# Travels of Destiny



## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

After a hiatus of two years from D&D. our resident DM decided to relaunch a campaign we started a few years ago. Its a home brew campaign losely based around a Celtic/proto medieval society. We are using 3.5 rules and will not be upgrading to 4.0. We have all been playing on and off since 2nd ed and were late converts to 3.5. Anyhow, as an attempt to write a first story hour, and inspired by the great authors whose threads i read,i shall be writing about our party's trails and tribualtions. So feel free to comment, criticize and give advice.

Many thanks 
Polynike

PS this session was intended as an intro to p&p D&D for one of the party members who had only played D&D computer games before.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

I play Lucious, a cleric of Bel (read Pelor), a devout priest who has followed the teachings of Bel since an early age.  Orphaned after an orc raid on the outlying farms of Dun Tonay (town where the campaign starts), i was taken in by the local orphange, run by the local Chapter of the Church of Bel. As a youngster i would attend services at the temple and showed an aptitude to learning the written and read word as well as a flair for the Apothecary's art. At the age of 10 i was accepted into the order as an acloyte and by the time i was 17 i was consecrated into the Church of Bel. It is the practice of the church of Bel to pair up its clerics with Holy Soldiers of the Faith, and it was this way that i met Helm, paladin squire of the Order of the Flaming Sword.

Helm(another PC), is an paladin in the service of the church of Bel, sworn to be Lucious's sworn faith brother. He hails from another town to the North of Dun Tonay and his devotion to the cause is utmost. Somewhat stocky, he has a magnetic personality and lives his life according to the tenets of his Order. Specialised in the Longsword, the symbol of his Order, he is a fearless fighter and will not shirk away from his duty and role as Protector and Purveyor of the Faith and the Innocent.

Felix, a long term friend from the orphange is the party's rogue. He was found outside the Cracked Tankard, lying in a wicker basket, on a starry night one summer 17 years ago. Somewhat of a mischief maker as a boy, his heart was full of noble intentions, though as a teenager he would often be found skulking along the roofs of Dun Tonay from one maiden's room to another. Nimble and quick he was apprenticed to the local tanner. A retired adventurer he imparted many skills onto Felix, who soon was adept at dagger throwing and was often seen with a short sword strapped to his thigh. As he grew older the deisre to roam stirred in his heart. We kept in constant contact as we grew up and i did not hesitate to accept his offer of help when sent on my first Faith Quest.

The last member of our party is Gibel. A man of the woods and an excellent archer. Very little is known of him by the people of Dun Tonay, indeed many rumour there is a touch of the Fey about him. For the past few months he had been seen skulking in and out of the trees that ring the town and would often bring in furs into town to trade during the mid-week market. More comfortable among the trees than people Gibel is a quiet sort that comes alive during combat. Despite this a gentle soul resides in this leather clad servant of the Woods.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

*Chapter One: Of the Cleansing and Purification of the Dead.*

Autumns in Dun Tonay were severe, a fore warning of the cold winter that was sure to follow. Though the woods provided a beautiful splash of different shades of brown, the ferocity of the winds and rain that buffeted this region of Deverrey, had made its folk hearty and hardy. Despite the hardships they had ploughed for themselves a decent living in this foremost outpost of civilisation.

Dun Tonay was a settlement of one thousand souls. It was built in the woodlands of the South West, the last area to be conquered by the armies of Deverrey about 95 years ago. Though no longer the savage frontier, life could be hard and some of the roads that traversed the woods were full of danger. One needed to be wary around these parts and knowing how to use a weapon was just as useful as working the plough. 

The Temple of Bel was the foremost building in Dun Tonay. As the dominant in religion Deverrey, the Church of Bel wielded great power and wealth and its clergy administered to the spiritual health of the people. It also had a splattering of martial orders that added military strength to its already substantial divine arsenal.  As such the Church of Bel was responsible for the security of Dun Tonay and its surrounding settlements.

*ACT ONE * 

The wind was howling with the fury of a banshee, and on its breath it brought the first warning of winter.

“It’s a foul night Lucious,” spat Helm, “it would be wary to head indoors and at the moment the warmth of the Tankard seems a better option than standing out here.”

“Aye,” muttered Felix as he wrapped his cloak around his slight frame.  

The group of four young men had been milling about town all day equipping themselves for the Faith Quest Lucious and Helm had sworn to take.  The funny thing was that the Faith Quest was not directly given but would rather manifest itself in some obscure form. When they left the temple this morning aster receiving the blessing, they had no idea where the Quest would be taking them.

The wind whipped itself into a frenzy as they approached the Cracked Tankard, the biggest Inn in Dun Tonay. Milling outside was the town drunk. Even from such a distance Lucious could smell the spirits on the man’s breath.

“Shpare a copper piece, brother,” slurred the drunk.

“Not again Rob,” answered Lucious. “What had you sworn in the Temple the other day?”

“You shee brother, itsshh the devil booze, itshhh not mee...”

“I’ve heard it all before,” replied the priest. “Never your fault is it?”

He was about to chastise the man further when Felix noticed the rolled parchment Rob had in his belt. It was nothing spectacular but it was the only thing not covered in mud or dirt on his person.

“What’s that you got there Rob?” he asked.

“Well, thatshh my treashhure map that isss,” he rasped, followed by a great belch. “Its yoursss for a handful of coppershhh.”

Ever the gullible one, Felix flicked a couple of coppers at the man and he handed the parchment over before ambling down the windy street for a few minutes before collapsing face first into a side alley.

“You shouldn’t have done that Felix,” chastised Helm. “You are only helping him descend futher into debauchery and sin.”

“Oh come on Helm,” replied the rogue, “we can’t all be pious like you and the Father over there can we? Us mere mortals need some distraction from the monotony of life. Don’t know about you but im going inside and looking at my treasure map.”

 With that he opened the tavern door and stepped into its welcome warmth.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

*ACT TWO*

The Cracked Tavern was awash with customers seeking shelter from the biting wind. The local patrons sat at their usual tables, these being full of tankards of ale and plates of hot and inviting stew. A troupe of minstrels provided some music that could be barely heard above the din being made by some off duty town guards that seemed to be taking some delight and teasing and manhandling one of the wenches. 

“Fine treasure map this turned out to be,” muttered Felix as he unrolled the parchment. “Its just one of those reward notices for Goblin heads that the City Guard have posted all over the city. Hold on a minutes its 10 gold a head. Hey we could really make some coin out of this...”

His ramblings were cut short by a loud female scream. One of the guardsmen had gone too far and had torn the bodice of her shirt. This was obviously met by raucous laughter and some not to gentlemanly comments on her sizable assets that were now struggling to break free.

“That’s too far,” grumbled Helm as he started to make his way towards the guardsmen. Lucious grimaced at this and followed to try and intercede. He did not want to start his Faith Quest with a brush against the Law. 

He was about to grab Helm by the shoulder and tell him to forget about it when the door of the tavern swung open again, Lucious noticed that driving rain had joined in with the swirling wind but it was the person who had opened the door that had captured his attention. Standing at the door was the rather plump and out of breath figure of Postulant Cadderley.

“Brother Lucious, thank the Holy Father you are still in Dun Tonay,” he gasped. “We have need of you at the Church. There is trouble at the Paramour Vault.” At the mention of the name Paramour even Helm turned away from the guardsmen and followed the rest of the party out of the door and into the rain.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

*ACT THREE*

After a short, wet walk to the Temple the party were gathered in the antechamber of the Deacon of Dun Tonay, Master of the Temple of Bel.

“Who are the Paramour’s?” asked and inquisitive Gibel, his accent betraying an ancestry far flung from Dun Tonay.

“The Paramour’s are one of the most powerful families in Dun Tonay and the Head of the Serpent Clan,” replied a by now very flustered Cadderley.

Deverrey’s society was organised into a system of clans. Several families swore allegiance to one clan or another depending on their interests, be they economic or political. Each family had to provide members to serve in the religious orders and had to answer to the call of the King if Deverrey went to war. But other than that the clan held the loyalty of each family in turn. Leaving one clan to join another could set off a series of inter family wars that could last for generations.

“Powerful indeed Postulant,” said a sullen voice. The door to the Deacon’s chamber opened and a wizened old man stood at the door way. His long white hair was braided in the style of the Elders and his left eye was empty, that side of his face ravaged by a great scar that seemed aeons old and seemed to have been made by some sort of claw.

“My gratitude to you Brother Lucious for answering our call,” he continued. “As you know the head of the Paramour family, Theros, has been at loggerheads with the Church for a few years. He has never hidden his apathy towards us or the works of the Father. Furthermore the rumours of his meddling with Necromancy seem to have been correct. Our auguries have pierced into the Paramour mausoleum in the graveyard and we sense the presence of the awakened dead.”

“Foul bastards,” exclaimed Helm, “this evil will be cleansed Deacon on my sword I swear by it.”

“It will take more than swords Helm,” retorted the Deacon, “something of great power is behind this. Not even my auguries could penetrate a darkness that inhabits the lower level of the crypt. I fear that your faith in the Father will be your strongest weapon in this fight.”

“Our faith is strong Deacon,” answered Lucious, “and we stand ready to serve the Father.”

The Deacon smiled and nodded warmly, “I know Lucious, I have known since the first day you walked in here all those summers ago.” “Postulant, arm these brave souls with the weapons of the Father and i thank you yet again. Now go as time is off the essence. I shall send a message to the Archbishop of this. May the Blessings of the Father light you way.” With that he retired once again into his chambers while the Postulant gave out potions and some  blessed sickles and led the party to the Paramour Vault.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

*ACT FOUR*

The Paramour Vault was easily the biggest crypt in the Dun Tonay graveyard. It was an impressive granite building that stood on hill overlooking the cemetery. The Paramours were not shy to show off their wealth and even in death this continued as a stone vault in an area where wood was the main material of construction was a luxury.  It was roughly of square shape with the Paramour family crest prominent in many of the intricate carvings on the stonework. Four stone gargoyles stood guard over the massive oaken doors that were the entrance into the crypt. Their eyes were painted red and wicked looking fangs protruded from their lips. The doors themselves were embossed with two great intertwining serpents whose mouths met at the curved brass handles. The stormy weather only seemed to enhance the menacing look of the vault. Postulant Cadderely made the sign of the Father and beat a hasty retreat leaving the party alone.

“I don’t like the look of those gargoyles,” Lucious said.

“Fear not faith-brother, there is no aura surrounding them,” said Helm confidently.

Felix approached the doors and examined the lock expertly. To his great surprise he found it was open. He cocked an ear against the wood but its thickness and the howling wind made sure that the rogue heard nothing.

“This is not the time to skulk around boy,” bellowed Helm, “evil awaits to be cleansed and I will be the vehicle of that cleansing.” With that he fearlessly turned the handle and the great doors swung open. As the party passed their threshold, the doors slammed shut of their own accord with a boom that echoed across the vault they now stood in.

Six great pillars held up the vaulted roof that seemed more impressive from the inside. Each pillar held a slow burning torch held in a rusty, snaked shaped bracket. Their flames casting a sparse light that barely kept the encroaching darkness out. Several broken caskets and coffins lay about the floor and this immediately brought the party to a state of ready alert.

“We are not alone,” uttered Helm, “undead filth are near.”

As he said those words a low moan could be heard and the shuffling of feet could be heard from the furthest corners of the room. Gibel immediately took a position on the left flank of the party upholstering a longbow and cocking an arrow. Felix slowly crept forward using the shadows to mask his advance. Lucious and Helm, both steadfast in their faith, advanced with a prayer on their lips ready to meet their undead foe.

“Foes ahead,” suddenly yelled Gibel as he loosed an arrow from his bowstring. A zombie, awkwardly dressed in the finery of a Paramour noble walked into the range of the torchlight. The sounds of shuffling feet behind it betrayed the presence of more if its kind. The arrow sticking out of its rotting gut did not seem to hinder it in the slightest as it continued its steady approach, the scent of fresh meat pervading its unholy senses.

“For Bel,” yelled Helm as he charged his foe. His exuberance, however, was to be his undoing as his sword swished harmlessly over the zombies head. The creature returned with a powerful blow to the paladin’s armour, pushing him back a step or two. Helm grimaced at the power behind the blow as the zombie roared, its fellows joining in an unholy chorus.

“Stupid brawn head,” whispered Felix as he buried his short sword into the creatures flank. The easy with which he had concealed himself greatly impressed Helm despite the Paladin’s distaste of skulking. 
Three more zombies appeared within the torchlight. These were also dressed in once fine garments and two of them had been women in life, their once graceful features twisted by the foul magic’s used in their creation.

At their appearance a warm nimbus of light filled the room. Its source was a small circular symbol that Lucious held aloft. Waves of positive energy filled the room. The undead creatures snarled a moment and as the wave pulsed over them wailed in fear and turned away seeking refuge in the darkness.

“Strike at them now,” ordered Lucious, the power of Bel will not last long. Helm buried his long sword into the back of the head of the zombie retreating in front of him. Rotting brains spilled out of the head as the creature slumped dead on the floor. He could see that Gibel had also drawn his sword and was engaging two zombies desperately clawing at the stone walls to escape the light of Bel. Felix had meanwhile drawn a further short sword and was carving chunks out of the remaining zombie. The rebuked undead did not provided much of a foe and soon only their stinking remains littered the floor.

“Are you alright Helm,” asked Gibel.

“Evil will have to hit harder than that to hurt me Ranger,” answered Helm.

“Well think before charging in next time,” chastised Felix. Helm’s response about skulking died on his lips as he remembered the aid the rogue had given him.

“Over here,” called Lucious. Before him stood the shattered remains of a stone altar. The altar had covered some stairs that spiralled down into the darkness.

“We are not the first to come in here,” said Gibel examining the dust strewn stairs. He pointed out the imprints of boots heading downwards. “Seems our way is clear.” He removed a torch from his belt, lit it and dropped it down the stairway. Its flames cast gruesome shadows along the rough cut walls of the stairwell. Though eerie, they were not as worrying as the moans that could be heard from the base of the stairs.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

*ACT FIVE*
Already having absconded the element of surprise the party charged down the stairs and met the three zombies at the bottom head on. Helm, full of rightful wrath tore into the undead foe with a relish. Bellowing his battle cry he had downed one and heavily injured another before the enemy had time to react. Lucious noted with satisfaction at the lithe with which Gibel had evaded his enemy’s attacks and neatly severed its head. Almost as soon as it had started the action was over.  It was only then that the noticed the stale dank air and foul odour that was absent in the upper level.

“I don’t like this,” said Gibel.

“Talk about stating the obvious,” chirped in Felix.

“Ouch, damn bug!!” suddenly yelled Lucious who had gone to investigate a substantial pile of rubble that lay against a set of double doors in the southern wall of the chamber they stood in. 

Attached to his foreman and greedily sinking its fangs into him was easily the biggest spider Lucious had seen in his life. He swatted the fist sized thing away but as he did he felt a wave of nausea come over him and all of a sudden his shield and mace seemed very heavy in his hands. He took an uneasy step backwards, his head spinning, when another spider darted from the rubble and buried its fangs into his boots. Thankfully the fangs did not pierce the hard leather.

Felix saw his boyhood friend sway and quickly rushed to his aid, but was taken aback by the size of the arachnid before him.  His hesitation nearly cost him dear and it took most of his agility to avoid the lunging attack. He countered quickly sank his short sword into the spider’s eye encrusted head. With a shudder it curled up and died. One of Gibel’s arrows made short work of the other one.

“Lucious,” called Felix, obvious concern in his voice.

“I’m alright, it will pass so...” he stopped talking as he was violently sick on the floor. A second wave of nausea overtook the cleric and he could feel his strength diminish and it was only through sheer force of will that he stood again and motioned towards the doors.

“Helm, open those, Bel’s work is not yet done here.” The paladin agreed and with a shove opened the wooden doors. As the party walked into the dim torch lit corridor that opened before them, no one noticed Felix pocket the few gold coins and the gem studded ring he had found in the rubble. Silently he worded thanks to the Paramours and followed his companions. 

The corridor was quiet and the air was heavy. The only sound was the crackling of the torches. Gibel crouched down and investigated the tracks on the floor.

“Our prey went this way, and alone it seems,” he said. He stood up and started down the corridor skirting the shadows followed by Helm who muttered something derogatory about skulking away from evil. Felix escorted the pale looking Lucious who seemed to have stabilised somewhat though clearly weakened.

Their path seemed to follow the outline of a square room that only had one entrance. Yet the discovery of a door on the eastern corridor had worried the party. No tracks had disturbed the dust on the floor in this area and despite the danger of leaving their backs uncovered the party had opted to investigate this door first.

Inside they found a sparsely dressed altar with six caskets lining the wall. The dust lay heavy and undisturbed cobwebs covered the room, Lucious shuddered at their sight. He was about to voice a warning when Felix said,

“Hey there’s a button on the underside of the altar,” without waiting he pressed it and almost immediately the caskets burst open, each revealing an animated skeleton brandishing cutlasses and wooden shields. “Oops!” said Felix ducking a wild slash.

The creaking of bones could be heard above the din of battle. Helm fought off two skeletons at a time but his long sword was ineffectual, often getting entangled on his opponent’s ribs. During a lull in the battle he dropped his sword and grabbed a warhammer from his belt. This allowed his opponent the opportunity it needed to land a heavy blow with its weapons. Helm felt it tear through the scale mail on his shoulders and he grimaced with pain as it felt the rusted weapon pierce his skin and almost hit the bone. His shield arm was immediately weakened, blood flowed down his arm and the skeleton seemed to enjoy the pain it had caused. Almost at once its head disintegrated as a mace smashed it to bits; the rest of the animated bones fell in a heap. Helm felt his vision blur, but almost as quickly he felt revitalised and he could hear soft chanting and feel a warm glow engulf his wound, the cut closing and the bleeding stop. His vision returned to normal and he saw Lucious in prayer to Bel channelling healing energy into his battered body. The cleric, lost in prayer, did not see a second skeleton amble up behind him and strike him hard with the flat of its blade across his back. Already weakened by the spider’s poison, Lucious fell forwards, barely conscious. At this a rage possessed Helm and using his hammer tore the skeleton to pieces. The battered cleric rummaged through his pack, drew a potion and drank its contents. The change in him was visible instantly. Colour flushed to his cheeks, and he stood straight looking were best to aid his companions. This aid was not required as all that remained of the foe were heaps of battered bones. He suppressed a smile when he heard Helm’s voice reprimand Felix for his skulking and button pushing antics.


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## Polynike (Nov 18, 2007)

*ACT SIX*

A large ornate wooden door stood before them. The prints in the dust ended here, well on the other side of the door. Gibel motioned for silence as his keen ears picked up something coming from the other side of the room. He pressed his ear close to the door...

“Bow before me thrall,” he heard a youthful voice shout.

“That trinket holds no power over me boy,” said a harsh guttural voice that sounded like the wind sweeping through a graveyard.

The next thing the whole party heard was a shriek followed by a bellow of triumph, “it’s mine.”

Helm pushed past Gibel and opened the door charging through into a torch lit wide chamber supported by pillars. Six shrouded tombs were centred around the middle of the chamber. The corners of the chamber were shrouded in darkness but it was the sight of the creatures that made Helm regret his actions. Several zombies and skeletons turned to face him while in the western corner a long limbed undead creature feasted on a corpse. A further undead creature stood above the corpse of a red robed human body. It is hand it grasped an amulet which it placed around its neck. It seemed to be surrounded by a foul odour. With a snarl it spoke,

“Feed on the fresh meat my minions.” The undead lurched towards the door where the companions steeled themselves for battle.

“Fight with Bel in your hearts and we shall prevail,” said Lucious as their foes closed upon them. Helm took a wicked blow on his shield and Gibel was pummelled by a zombie. Felix flanked a skeleton and connected with a solid hit. But it was clear that the odds were stacked against them. They were outnumbered and overpowered. 

Lucious knew what had to be done. He softly began a prayer to Bel gradually rising to a crescendo during which his voice seemed to be unnaturally loud. As he shouted his deity’s name his holy symbol flared as it had done earlier and once again bright holy light pulsed from it in a wave of bristling positive energy. The undead seemed to shield their eyes against the light, as the wave of light passed over them they shrieked in fear and turned away from the cleric, well all except the ghast wearing the amulet.

“Cleric, I shall feast on the marrow of your bones,” it spat hatefully before charging past its retreating minions and descended on the companions in a whirl of teeth and claw. Helm and Gibel moved to block its advance and as it neared them it was surrounded by a shroud of foul air, as if a hundred corpses were rotting nearby. Both gagged on the smell, Gibel retching loudly. The creature bellowed and lashed out barely missing the ranger.

Helm too was overcome but reacted quickly; trying to smite the vile creature before him but the evil amulet was protecting and bolstering the creature and the smite appeared to have no discernable effect on it.

“Another soldier of Light,” it uttered in a voice that sounded like the whisper of a grave, “i shall savour your holy flesh mortal.” With that it raked its filthy claws across Helm’s face leaving three trails of blood. The wound was nothing critical but Helm stood frozen in time paralysed. Lucious recoiled with horror as the ghast licked its lips with a horribly long purple tongue as it shrugged off a solid hit from Gibel. It returned with a solid bite on the rangers arm, Gibel too froze up as the ghast’s paralysis took hold of his limbs, his eyes a frozen picture of terror his mind aware of how vulnerable he now was against this creature of evil.

Lucious stepped forward bravely, his symbol held highly, in defiance of the desecration of life before him. With a loud bellow he shouted,

“Back to the pit that spawned you, foul beast, Bel banishes you to death that has already claimed you.” When he uttered the last word his symbol, indeed his whole body seemed to explode in white pure light that washed into the darkest corners of the room. The fleeing skeletons and zombies disintegrated as the flood of light washed over them. Even the ghoul collapsed dead but as the last vestiges of positive energy disipitated the ghast was still there standing unaffected, its dark amulet seemed bathed in unholy light that seemed to swallow the holy power of Bel.

“Very impressive lackey of the light,” it sneered but you are mine. It lunged forwards with a speed that seemed impossible for a creature of its gait. Its claws raked Lucious’s thigh and blood flowed freely. Lucious felt the cold, creeping curse of the ghasts paralysis and it took all of his fortitude to resist the effect. As the ghast prepared to strike again Lucious channelled positive healing energy into its cursed, dead flesh. The ghasts odour made him retch and, already weakened by the spider’s poison, he veered on the edge of unconsciousness. Still he persevered with his attack and holy, healing energy poured into the beast. Beneficial to living creatures, the positive energy wracked through the unholy beast’s wrecked body. It bellowed in range and anger and swatted Lucious away. The cleric stumbled backwards and hit the wall hard. 

As the ghast advanced it did not notice the slight shiver of movement in Helm’s hand. As it passed the paladin he lifted his sword and with a bellow of rage tore into its torso. Despite the amulet’s effects this hurt the ghast that turned its now frenzied attention to Helm. It scored a heavy blow on the paladin but such was his heightened state of battle lust, he shrugged off the paralytic effect and with one mighty blow sundered the ghast that collapsed in a pile of dust, only the amulet remaining. Gibel stood paralysed, Lucious was battered and bruised against the chamber wall and Helm, the battle rage subsided, was beginning to feel the effect of his multiple wounds.

He leant against the wall whispering a prayer of thanks then saying,

“Where’s Felix?”. The rouge had not been seen since the initial stages of the battle.

“Over here Helm, skulking away as usual and making short work of those undead that were fleeing away. Oh I’ve also found a chest behind a secret partition in the wall over there. Lucious are you going to be alright?”

“Yes,” answered the battered cleric, “though somewhat sore” he managed with a small smile. A loud crash made them turn but it was only Gibel regaining motion.

“Blasted thing,” he cursed.

“Lucious, over here,” called Helm who in the meanwhile gone over to investigate the red robed human corpse on the floor. Lucious limped across the room and saw that the corpse belonged to a young boy, maybe 15 summers old. He was clothed in red, velvet robes emblazoned with the Paramour family crest.

“Seems that the Deacon’s suspicions of the Paramour’s and Necromancy were true,” said Helm. Lucious nodded his head and wondered what the consequences for Dun Tonay going to be. He looked around the blasted chamber, the remains of the walking dead littering the floor.

“We must get word to the Deacon quickly, that amulet is radiating great evil, it must be destroyed Helm.”

“I agree brother, let’s get out of here before...” a loud bang, followed by a scream and the sounds of rocks settling made both of them turn around and draw their weapons. Felix emerged from a cloud of dust looking battered and torn and bleeding in several places. But his grin was wide as he carried a shinning shirt of chainmail, and an exquisitely made steel shield in his hands and his pockets seem to bulge.

“Not bad for a skulker eh Helm,” he said with a wink, just before he fainted from loss of blood.


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## Polynike (Nov 22, 2007)

We play every two weeks and will try to update as often as possible. Thanks for reading.


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