# Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)



## diaglo

Bartol Pinesheaf is the son of Karm Pinesheaf and Rowen Smythe, born and raised in a homestead off the Mistle Trail within the county of Mistledale near Elven Crossing, where Rowen's family maintains a weaponsmithy. Bartol's grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins run the smithy and surrounding farmlands, trading with travelers to and from Ashabenford. They do well enough. And lately business has been booming, as have the stories, rumors, and tales.

Karm, a full blooded wood elf, had saved young Rowen on one of the caravan trips to Elven Crossing from Ashabenford. They fell in love at once. And though Karm stayed many years with Rowen. He could not live the life of a settler nor could Rowen one of a nomad. So as time went on Karm returned home less and less with greater spans of time in between each visit. Rowen was content, though, for she had Bartol. Karm trained Bartol in the ways of surviving in the wilds. And his grandfather taught him the trade of a weaponsmith. Though, young Bartol, was never much good at following instruction. For this reason Rowen thought, she needed help. With Karm gone so often she took on the role of both kindly mother and strict watchmaster. She tried taking him to church often. The family reverred Torm. And it may have been foolish hope or desire, but Rowen believed her son destined to 
become a noble paladin. Of course, this was not to be. Although, 
Bartol ,too, worshipped Torm and had a goodly heart. He also cared little for the strict discipline. For Bartol had a temper. And when provoked it could be dangerous. Bartol feared its uncontrollable nature. So he became quiet and reserved, attempting to draw little attention to himself. Therefore his social skills suffered as well as his school lessons. Bartol secretly always thought his father was one of the Riders. And he hoped one day he too would be.

Like his uncles and cousins before him, he too, had to serve in the militia. Mostly because of his elven blood Bartol was always 
physically behind in his development. So after avoiding service for 
the last 5 years, Grandfather Smythe finally intervened. He handed Bartol Karm's bow and quiver, a greatsword in honor of Torm, 2 daggers, a suit of studded leather, and a backpack with supplies. He also gave Bartol a handful of coins and a big hug.

"Do us proud, Bartol, and return when you have completed your 
service."

The next day, Bartol set off on foot for the big city.


----------



## diaglo

*The Adventure Begins*

A leisurely hike down the road brought Bartol to Ashabenford. A road he had taken often on foot, horseback, or wagon. What awaited him this day only Torm knew. The closer he got to town, though, the more activity he saw. And even in the early hours work was being performed. Bartol kept to himself. "No need to disturb them with my menial questions," he thought.

Eventually, however, it became evident he would never find the answer he sought. As luck would have it an elderly gentleman was standing just ahead of him reading a sign post.

"Excuse me, but where do I find the militia?" Bartol muttered.

"Huh," the elderly man turned scratching his head "...What...can't you read? It says right there."

Bartol bristled, "Look, you could've just told me." And headed off in the direction the old man was looking. The elderly man backed away and then started to laugh.

"You're heading the wrong way. They are down by the ford."

Embarrassment and guilt grabbed Bartol, "Oops, sorry" And he quickly hurried to get away in the right direction.


At the ford were many groups of men, women and other beings. So to were there trained militia. These individuals were carrying bundles of longspears. But most striking were the Riders. The lead Rider, a woman of experience with an aura of command, spoke. The crowd hushed.

"Citizens of Mistledale, today, you have answered the call to service. You will learn the proper use of weapons and how to defend yourselves. Afterwards you may remain in the service or you may take your weapon and knowledge and return home." She then turned to the other Riders, "Carry on."

The trained militia took groups of 8 to 10 recruits off in different directions to train. Bartol's group included Corporal Olaf, a Dales veteran; Daniel, a farmboy; Arissa, another farmer; Barry, a stablehand employed by Zander Wilcot; Valgrim, a follower of Lathander; Thane and his animal friend; Eric, a fighter for hire; another yokol employed at the wheelwrights; and Timmay, a gnome.

Corporal Olaf pushed the group to test their mettle. First was a long hike. Then a set of drills. And then more drills. The whole while Thane spoke incessantly about his master or with his pet. Timmay had Daniel wrapped around his finger. And during a brief break Barry pestered Eric and Bartol to show him how to use their swords. Valgrim administered to everyone's aches and pains. 

One of the Riders from earlier in the day approached.

"Olaf, don't keep them to long. It is getting late and you still have a ways to go."

"Aye, we're almost done. Just a couple more drill." Olaf replied to the Riders back.

"Oy, more drills" Daniel said.

So drill they did.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

LOL.  I'm so looking forward to 'Barbarian Aerials'.

Guess you had to be there.


----------



## diaglo

*The road home*

"Enough," called Corporal Olaf. "We head back to town now. Keep up if you can  "

And with that the Corporal set a gruelling pace for Ashabenford. After a while though it became apparent that not all of the raw recruits were able to stand up to the hike. So the Corporal slowed down to let the stragglers catch up.

"I thought you younsters had some conditioning from working on a farm."

Thane replied, "Yeah, and I thought after being in the service of the Dales for how many years that veteran soliders advanced to higher positions of authority"

As darkness descended on the group the lights of the town were just becoming visible. Their spirits eased and their step became less bothersome. A general giddiness was soon evolving. And then the sounds of missles could be heard. Corporal Olaf in the lead went down with an arrow protruding from the back of his helm.

Timmay screamed, "Goblins to the left."

Everyone turned to see 4 torchbearing greenies climbing over a small wall followed by a much larger, meaner version. And 4 other sets of eyes were behind the wall still armed with bows.

Thane was the first to react. He quickly hummed to himself. And his voice got progressively louder. He then shifted his position to get cover behind Bartol. The plants and brush in the field around the goblins seemed to respond. It grabbed the torchbearers and the big one. It also seemed to work on the fellows behind the wall. Soon a very large area of the field was alive. This didn't prevent 2 of the goblins from firing their bows, however. Although it did distract them enough that no one was injured. The smart thinking gnome was next to react. He muttered a few words in an arcane language. And 3 of the torchbearers went to sleep. Unfortunately for them the grass in the field was very dry. And the torches soon had the field aflame. Not knowing what to do. Bartol hurled his new long spear at the large goblin. It went sailing far from sight. Eric drew his bow and fired into the crowd. A grunt was heard from behind the wall. The farmhands; Daniel, Gothor, Arissa, and Barry, scattered. Only Valgrim thought enough to check on the well being of Corporal Olaf. Olaf was still breathing. Valgrim said a prayer over the Corporal returning him to consciousness.

The fire grew. And the goblins did not fair well. The smell of roasting goblin is not a pleasant one. The fire and Thane brought down the large leader. Seeing their leader down and 4 of their companions cooked plus 2 more still bound by the plants, the 2 free ambushers fled. Timmay finished 1 of the bound goblins behind the wall with a crossbow bolt.

Bartol thought to himself they are escaping. They've hurt my instructor. They have set the field on fire. And then again maybe he didn't think. For all he saw was red. A rage took hold and he charged thru the field of flailing, burning plants. His target the last standing bound goblin on the other side of the wall. His anger was too great for the plants. But he did feel the touch of flame thru his armor. When he reached the wall, he sprang to grapple the goblin. With a spectacular display of aerial acrobatics he cleared the wall. But his aim was off. Too late he sailed over the goblin and landed face first on the other side of the wall.

Eric and the rest just stood dumbfounded. And then they started to laugh. Valgrim gathered Daniel and headed to town shouting for aid to put out the fire. With the priest snapping everyone back to reality Thane cancelled his control on the plants. Bartol must have looked a sight for the now freed goblin wet himself. In the heat of battle Bartol was still not himself. He rose up and took a swing at the goblin, missing completely, so he then drew his greatsword. 

Eric and Timmay moved closer, "Quit playing around." Timmay said."Bring the prisoner here."

The others started beating at the fire with their cloaks. And soon Valgrim, Daniel and other town members approached with buckets of water.


----------



## diaglo

*Why oh Why*

In the distance 3 other areas had a glow to them of a large fire.

Eric took the prisoner over to Timmay and Corporal Olaf. Bartol began searching the dead for valuables his anger slowly abating.

"Perhaps I should have a word with my new friend," Timmay said as he cast an enchantment on the snivelling goblin. In the rudimentary language of the greenies Timmay spoke."Tell me, friend, what you were doing here and from whence have you come."

The goblin spilled the beans. He told everything he knew. From the size, color, taste, feel, and length of his journey to what they ate and who owed him money. Gorg, the leader, had a map and was the only one in the group with the instructions. He had told his men to burn the big building on the edge of town, the White Hart Inn. Bartol produced the map, but it was charred. Although the goblin did know some other helpful information.

The group lived in a series of caves about 4 days away with some larger goblins, some hairier ones, and some enemies plus a very large friend. He didn't know how to get there though without the map. And the chieftain of the tribe took orders from some bad men. Corporal Olaf listened attentively as did one of the townsfolk who had helped put out the fire.

"Well then friend, thank you."  And with that Timmay placed a crossbow bolt between the goblin's ears. "Never really trusted him, any way." 

The other town member turned out to be the Inn's owner. He offered free room and board for the night to the entire patrol. Some of the group decided to go home or in Corporal Olaf's case file a report. Thane, Eric, Timmay, Valgrim, Bartol, Arissa, and Daniel went to the Inn.

"In the morning we shall know more," said the innkeeper. "For now, eat, drink, and relax."

Bartol refused to join the festivities. He took care of his armor and weapons. He also went to work on the long spear to make it more usuable by Timmay. Thane noticing his reluctance to join in gave him an elixir of pine whiskey with 2 berries in it.

"This will make you feel better."

Much later on the rest of the crew bedded down.


----------



## diaglo

*For Hire*

The innkeeper, Holfast Harpenshield, must have been up early or late last night for he had much news when the company came down for breakfast.

"There were 3 other attacks last night," he said."A young girl went missing from 1 of the attacked farms." 

As the group contemplated the news, Holfast continued. "And rumors of a missing caravan to Peldan's Helm are true. If you are looking to make some quick cash, go see Iletian Blackeagle. He is hiring caravan guards for a second attempt to reach the Keep.

This bit of news sparked everyone's interest. The goblin from last night had mentioned coming from somewhere near Peldan's Helm. Nothing like getting paid to go in the direction you were headed anyway.

"Well, I'm off this morning to see what the council plans to do. They are meeting at  High Councilor Haresk Malorn's home. Pleasure to have you stay with us. And thanks again for defending us from the goblins last night," with that Holfast left.

The company enjoyed a nice meal and then gathered their things. They set off for Blackeagle's Coster.

Timmay said, "Let me do all the talking."


----------



## diaglo

*Where do we go from here?*

Blackeagle was a busy man judging by all the activity. And as the group approached the builidings to ask for him, a door opened and a fellow bellowing orders came out.

Timmay noted, "Mr. Blackeagle, I presume. May we have a word with you?"

Iletian replied, "Aye, but you'll need to walk and talk. I'm on my way to the Council meeting."

The group started heading towards the center of town.

Iletian continued,"I'm trying to persuade the council to provide guards for my caravan. Of course, if they do. They will have to provide them for my competition also. And I don't think I like that idea. I don't suppose I could talk you and your friends into joining as guards?"

Timmay mumbled a few arcane words under his breath and then turned to Iletian, "Why yes, yes you could friend. What is a reasonable fee?"

By then they had reached the town center.

Iletian said, "Perhaps, we can discuss this after Haresk speaks?"

Two guards were posted to keep all at least earshot away from the door. There were several groups arranged about the front of the building. One group of elves stood off to the side. Another was a party of 4 adventurers. The third was a group of townsfolk with Holfast amongst them.

Bartol approached the adventurers, sizing them up. "Grrrrrrrrrrr"

Three of the group shrank quickly away and behind the fourth.

"Well, hello, there, son. I'm Sir Bradford of Tyr," the knight said, grinning and offering his hand.

"I'm not your son. But well met." And returned the handshake. "So you follow All Mighty Torm do you? I'm inclinded to him, myself."

Just then the council door opened and a group filed outside. It was evident that 2 members were not present, the councilors from Peldan's Helm and Glen. One of the Riders from the day before was also with the council.

Haresk spoke, "The council has decided not to send a call out to the militia, just yet. We are placing our trust in the citizens of the Dale to restore order. Word has reached us that Zander Wilcot's estate in the east was attacked. So we are sending a Rider to investigate.

Sir Bradford of Tyr along with my son, my daughter, and a woodsman guide are headed to check on the trouble to the Southeast.

And no, Blackeagle, we will not be providing militia for guards for your caravan. But I suspect you knew that already.

The council is also accepting volunteers to investigate the trouble to the west around Peldan's Helm. Speak with us afterwards if you are interested.

Are there any other matters?"

One of the elves stepped forward, "Yes, High Councilor Malorn. We have grave news for you concerning the Forest."

With that the group of elves and the council went back inside.


----------



## diaglo

*Which way did they go*

Bartol returned to the group. The Rider and the party of adventurers were already departing.

Iletian turned to Timmay, "I guess I do need you to escort the caravan to Peldan's Helm. And if you are interested to escort it back. How does 25gp apiece sound?"

Timmay waved his hands, "35gp sounds better."

Iletian's eyes glazed over, "Done. The caravan leaves in 4 days time. The journey will take about 4 days. And then a week to settle things with my agent in Peldan's Helm as well as restock before a return trip here. See the caravan leader, Snap, for any further instructions." Blackeagle excused himself and departed.

"I need to sell some things," Bartol grunted. "I'll be heading to the Six Shields after to hole up while we wait for the caravan."

"I'll come with you," Thane chimed."But I'm going to try the Velvet Veil for my entertainment. "

The rest of the party waited for the councilors to return. Why not get paid for investigating Peldan's Helm. Bartol and Thane headed to the Multhimmer's General Store. They exchanged the goblins armor and weapons for a few days trail rations and some oil. They then split up.

When Bartol arrived at the Six Shields; Eric, Valgrim, and Timmay were already there.

"The White Hart is too rich for my pouch," Eric explained. "The council said they would pay us if we could prove that no more trouble would be coming from Peldan's Helm."

Bartol pestered the locals for information about Sir Bradford of Tyr. One of them, Ned the Mad, said he thought the adventurers would not return. He had seen trees or shrubs walking down the road they headed. Others directed Bartol to the new temple. At the temple Bartol learned that Sir Bradford was an experienced paladin. He had spent the last few years in Sembia.

The days dragged on. Everyone was chomping at the bit to get going. Eric practiced his swordplay with Bartol. Timmay spent his time buried in his books. Valgrim tried telling all those who would listen about the wonders of Lathander. Thane helped a farmer birth a calf and another with his horse.

Eventually, the day arrived. And the guard company went to find Snap.

Snap had only 1 hand. The other was replaced with a whip. He greeted the guards with their orders and told them what he expected of them. He also commented on the nature of the road ahead. "Hated it" was his catch phrase. He and Thane were immediate buddies.


----------



## diaglo

*Wagons Ho*

"Wagons, Ho," called Snap.

And the caravan was off. There were 10 wagons in all. The guard company was mounted. A team of drivers, handlers, and the like pushed the beasts along to make good time. Still a 2 day trip by horse was going to take 4 for this crew.

Bartol kept to himself and didn't share in the ideal chit chat. Timmay was enjoying himself. With his quick wit and large vocabulary, he was talking circles around almost everyone. Thane and his animal companion took moments every so often to check on the soil, flora, fauna, and water quality of the area or just to wrestle. The companion looked like a large dog with nasty claws. Thane said it still had plenty of growing to do and that it is was a wolverine. Eric rode point and during breaks would chat with the teamsters. Valgrim was gaining a convert in one of the drivers. Each morning he would bless the caravan. Snap kept everything in order. We don't want to go to work today. But where there's a whip there's a way.  Every night Snap would circle the wagons. And the guard company took turns on watch.

After a day and half of travel, Snap called a halt and asked the guards to come in for a chat.

"A couple hours ahead there is a Bridge. It is the most likely spot for an ambush. Why don't you go ahead and check it out. We will come along at a normal pace," Snap ordered.

So the guard company set off to check out the bridge. Timmay went through a list of spells in his mind. As did Thane and Valgrim. Bartol checked his sword, spear, and bow. Eric readied his sword.


----------



## diaglo

*3 goblins gruff*

Bartol , eager for a scrap, took point. Over a slight rise, the bridge came into view. Three small, armed figures were arrayed in front. Bartol dismounted and began to approach on foot. Goblins.

In broken Common the lead goblin slurred, "Pay toll to cross our bridge."

Bartol replied, "And I suppose there is a troll under the bridge to back up your bravado."

Timmay started to say something, but Thane acted first. A sling stone sailed over Bartol's head and struck the speaking goblin. The goblin screamed. And 2 larger figures came out from under the bridge. The battle was joined, no more surprises, hopefully. 

Thane hurled another stone striking the injured greenie in the head. It went down twitching. Eric charged forward on his mount. The 2 remaining goblins moved close enough to Eric to take a stab at him. The larger goblins, hobgoblins really, hurled javelins at Timmay and Bartol, neither connecting. Timmay approached and fired his crossbow. He hit, but his target was still standing. Bartol and Valgrim fired missle weapons at the other hobgoblin missing entirely. Thane unloaded yet another stone, finishing the injured hobgoblin. From horseback Eric executed a brilliant manuver. His sword sailed low and decapitated the 2 goblins near him. Seeing all of his allies slain the last hobgoblin fled. Timmay, Bartol, and Valgrim launched missles at the retreating hobgolin's back ending his escape. The first goblin to fall was not in fact dead, yet. So after reviving him Timmay went to work on intimidating him for information.

The poor wretch didn't stand a chance. He told his whole tale. And offered to lead the group to his leader. Timmay was having none of it. He asked for directions and spitted his racial enemy when he was done. A truly gruesome sight, 3 goblin and 2 hobgoblin heads on spears placed by the bridge as a warning.

Just then the wagons came over the rise.

Snap hollered, "Any trouble?"

Valgrim replied, "None for us, but these poor creatures sure had more than they could handle."

Thane added, "One of them told us of a nearby hideout where the main group is staging their raids. We are going to pay them a visit. We will catch up with you by nightfall."

"Okay, I'll be calling a halt about 3 hours ahead. I'll expect you there this evening. If you don't show, I'll know this road is not safe," Snap offered.

So the guard company, now goblin hunters, set off for the hideout.


----------



## diaglo

*A hunting we will go*

An hour or so later the hunters found a small farm. They decided to tie up their horses and take a look. Bartol climbed the fence surrounding the farm. He left his bow on his horse and drew his sword. 

"I am useless with it anyway," he thought.

Timmay spotted a goblin moving in the barn. And the goblin spotted them. It ran into the barn.  Whether it was seeing the goblin or the final release of his frustration at finally getting into a fight, his blood began to boil. A javelin came from the barn at Bartol, but missed. Another javelin thrown from the farmhouse grazed him and drew blood. And that was all it took.

"AAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG," Bartol screamed and charged at the farmhouse window sword first. Straight and true he soared thru the window. His sword met some resistance at first but his momentum and anger carried him inside. He had spitted a hobgoblin on the end of his sword. He landed on top of the corpse. Inside were a small horde of greenies.

Over Bartol's shoulder and thru the hole he had made in the window, Thane threw a burning flask of oil. He then climbed the fence and advanced to the farm house door. The flask shattered against a goblin on the far side of the house. The flames scroched it and a few of its friends. Still the odds were overwhemling. Eric, Timmay, and Valgrim began to climb over the fence and move closer to the house. Partly to aid Bartol and partly to avoid any more missles coming from the barn. 

Three of the goblins attacked Bartol. One scored a nasty gash across the barbarian's backside. The apparent leader of the whole tribe was a large hobgoblin with a finely crafted sword and steel shield. It stayed back and looked for an opportunity to strike. Bartol swung his sword as he rose. The strength of the blow gutted one of his attackers. Thane called on his magic to enhance his cudgel. The flames continued to burn and 2 of the slower goblins fell. Eric burst thru the door and finished the goblin standing nearby. Timmay seeing that the others had everything in hand headed around the house to get a better look at the barn. Valgrim moved past Eric and crushed the skull of another greenie. And now the odds were in the hunter's favor.

With only the leader and the 2 attacking Bartol still remaining, the leader moved to attack Bartol 1 of its helpers weighing in as well. A scratch, tis but a scratch, was the best they could do to overcome the half-elf berserker. The other became a door guard and missed Eric. So Bartol halved another of the greenies. Thane snuck into the fray thru the window and struck the leader from behind. The hobgoblin was not happy. Eric sliced and diced the door guard. Timmay had troubles of his own. Out of the barn burst reinforcements, 3 goblins and a hobgoblin. He quickly released the magic to one of his memorized spells. Two goblins now slumbered. Valgrim with no opposition in front or beside him advanced and struck the leader. Down it fell.

The hobgoblin ran to the front of the house. It must not have noticed the trailing goblins fall. It was advancing on Eric, when back thru the window Bartol leapt. Skewered on the end of his sword was the last hobgoblin. A scream for help was heard from Timmay as the last remaining enemy attacked the hated gnome. Thane's wolverine ran from its position to aid Timmay. Thane, too, headed outside to help. Eric and Valgrim brought up the rear. Timmay stepped back and fired his crossbow wide of the goblin. 

The goblin turned from the gnome and struck the wolverine. Not a smart move. The creature raged. And all those nearby looked like potential victims. Thane tried calling to it to calm it. Bartol headed over to the slumbering goblins and seeing them sleeping let his ire die. He began trussing them together. Eric and Valgrim both stepped away from the wolverine. Timmay unloaded his crossbow into the back of the goblin's skull.

"Don't turn your back on this gnome," he said.

And it was over. Eric, Thane, and Valgrim went into the barn and began searching around. Bartol went back inside the farm house and put the smoldering fire out. He then dragged the bodies outside and searched them for treasure. Meanwhile, Timmay was having fun with his hated enemies.

Inside the barn Valgrim discovered the decomposing corpses of the previous owners in a root cellar. He and Thane carefully removed the bodies and performed the proper rites. The wolverine had vented its anger on the body of the dead goblin. It was covered in gore. Timmay had extracted some useful information from the 1 remaining goblin. Only 1 because he had made an example of the other one.  As the wolverine approached the last goblin, fear caused it to break its bonds. It ran for all it was worth. The wolverine thought it was a game and went after it to play. 

The total booty included a silver necklace with 3 small gems, a couple hundred silver pieces, and a gross or so of gold pieces plus the fine longsword, shield, and cheaper made arms and armor of the lesser goblins.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Nice fight.


----------



## diaglo

*To market to market*

Both Thane and Timmay cast spells to check the quality of the items. None of them radiated magic. The longsword did have a artisan's mark. This alone made it worth more to the party. With the natural light starting to head towards dusk the party made for the caravan.

Snap stated, "Halt, who goes there? Is that you, Bartol?"

"Aye, we have returned victorious," he beamed, "and with many goodies."

Snap looked the sword over and told the party it was of dwarven make. The craftsman was well known. However, he hadn't been seen for many years. Another Dale's local, Zanderat Wilcot, would pay handsomely for it. But his estate was miles to the East. So the guards settled back into their routine. No further trouble greeted them on the journey. 

A couple hours shy of Peldan's Helm, though, they did find the remains to the last caravan. The drivers, teamsters, handlers, and Snap tossed a few coppers near a small burial site near the burnt out husks.

"I hope Melvyn Wimbly made it safely," Snap whispered. "He was part of this expedition and a friend."

Bartol hung back to check on tracks. He also collected the coins. 

"No use to them," he thought.

The road wound around a small cliffside and then forked. One path lead upto the Keep. The Keep was on a small hill. The only visible entrance was over a drawbridge. The moat was shear dropped off to a deep ravine. The other to another of the Dales to the Northwest. But Bartol couldn't make out what the sign said. To the South was a swampy area. And to the North was a thick forest. The road ran alongside the forest for as far as the eye could see.

Activity on the walls of the Keep was non-existent. Two guards awaited the caravan at the moat.

"Hail and well met, Snap" cried the guard. "Tis a great sight to see you and your wares."

The other guard hurried inside to summon the corporal of the watch. The corporal returned and somewhat suspiciously eyed the guards.

"Who do you have with you? We need them to state their names and business here in the Keep."

The guards quickly offered their names. And Snap vouched for them. He also filled the corporal in on the hazards of the journey, including the goblin toll bridge.

"Alright then, stay in the outer bailey. You have access to any of the shops and accommodations you need there," the corporal stated as she backed away.

Snap laughed, "Any accommodations? There's only the one."

And with that he took the caravans to be unloaded. The guard company headed to the inn to check on rooms.


----------



## diaglo

(more to be added after Sunday. our sessions are every other Sunday.)


----------



## diaglo

*What do you do with a drunken...?*

The sign was plainly visible. It was a picture of a man with fire in his hand. Bartol hung back. But since everyone else seemed to think this was the place. He followed. It was an inn. A few locals, a couple townguards, and the serving staff were scattered about the place. Three of the locals, or maybe not, were dressed in the robes of Chauntea.

"Tyr protect you. Come in. Come in. Take a table and rest, gentle sirs," the innkeeper said."I'm Wilf. What can I get for you? Are you with the relief caravan? Are you here to bolster the garrison?"

"Slow down man," Timmay answered. "We were told we could acquire some rooms and a meal in this establishment. And yes, we did come in with the caravan. But no, we are not the relief garrison. I wouldn't expect one if I were you. The council in Ashabenford doesn't know the full extent of your need. We have come to investigate on their behalf. We ran into some trouble on the way here with goblins."

"Goblins did you say?" one of the guardsman brooched. "Well met travellers, I'm Marcus of Tyr. Please tell me more of your journey."

A slight young woman carrying a cat also edged closer. "I've just come from Ashabenford, too. My parents have gone missing. Do you think the goblins were involved."

The wolverine noticed the cat. Thane had to calm him down.

"Wolf, right here and now. I need some ale to wash the taste of goblin from my palate," Bartol bellowed.

"Anon, anon, good sir." Wilf replied.

Thane and the young girl, Bernedette, were soon deep in their own conversation. Both eyed Marcus of Tyr dreamily. And both made a remark or two about the barbarian.

Erik and Valgrim excused themselves early.

Timmay, Marcus of Tyr, and Bartol continued passing the time discussing the journey and their foes. Wilf returned ever now and again to replenish the drinks.

Bartol ordered a round for the company. And seeing the 3 Chaunteans offered them a drink.

The leader approached, "Why thank you. And Chauntea's blessing on this fine beer."

The more the merrier. The Captain of the Guard entered the tavern and joined in on the conversations. Soon everyone was gathered around the table. And then Timmay struck.

In his best tell all tale, he embraced the full mantle of a gnomish bard. He told of each blow, rock, and blade of grass. Everyone was very impressed. Pats on the back, handshook, warrior's grips, and oaths to the gods were muttered. Of course, it helped that his audience was inebriated.

By the end of the evening Bartol had insulted nearly everyone, drank way too much, urinated on the tavern floor,  got sprayed by the cat, donated some money to Chauntea, purchased a potion of healing, and had a really good time. He slept it off in the stables.


----------



## diaglo

*I'll trade ya.*

The next morning as a thousand little bugs crawled thru his head, Bartol set off to find the group at the inn. His mouth was dry and his stomach did a jig. He dunked himself in the trough for the horses outside to get rid of the cat smell.

Timmay was bright and chipper. Bernedette and Thane came down, too. Erik and Valgrim begged off. They were planning on staying in the Keep until further notice. Erik had offered to help Snap with the caravan. And Valgrim was still working on converting his friend to the ways of Lathander.

"Let us find out what we are worth. Shall we?" Timmay said as he handed Bartol the contents of their spoils.

On the way to the Bank Marcus of Tyr joined the group.

"I'm ready whenever you are," the paladin stated.

"Huh? Ready for what?" Bartol blurted out.

Timmay jumped in, "Oh, nevermind, we will be back shortly."

So the Barbarian and the gnome entered the Bank/ Moneychanger. After a brief haggling session. They had obtained a lock box and converted their funds to gold. They placed the Fine longsword, a shoddy suit of studded armor, and the coins in the box. Timmay held onto the key. The necklace it seems was made by a local jeweler, Reese. So they thought it prudent to discover what they could from the jeweler.

"Marcus, do you know Reese?" Timmay asked as they exited the bank.

"Aye, I was hoping to take you to him. He has a story to tell." Marcus replied.

Reese the Cobbler had fought with the Man with Fire in his hands many years ago. They and a couple others were the only survivors of the expeditions that cleared the Caves of Chaos. The Man with Fire in His Hands had stayed on at the Keep for a while after running the inn, but one day he just vanished. Reese was very happy to see young Marcus of Tyr take up the cause.

Reese the Jeweler would have to wait for another day. Timmay pocketed the necklace.


----------



## diaglo

*In Search of the Unknown.*

So with the sun breaching the treetops the adventurers set out for the Goblin Caves. Marcus of Tyr, the party member with the most local knowledge, took the lead. The party travelled westward along an illkept road. A forest bordered the trail to the North and a small stream with marshy grassland to the South. A hill or two with a few trees could be seen further to the South. An occasional rise and fall brought the travellers soon out of sight of the Keep. So too did the stream meander out of the range of vision. The trees began to crowd in from the North and an increasing number sprouted on the Southside of the trail. Trail was not a word Bartol would use to describe the path. It was very overgrown and became less and less easy to follow. Luckily he had some training from his father.

Three hours into the trek, the path veered North. An eerie howl could be heard thru the trees. And the jingle of bones or metal was almost perceivable.

"Don't stray from the path," Marcus of Tyr warned. "The Mad Hermit lives near. And he is not very friendly."

"What do we need to fear of 1 old coot?" Bartol smirked. He quickly climbed a tree for a better view. Marcus of Tyr just shook his head.

Thane and Bernedette were in deep conversation. They had chatted the whole way. She was relating the disappearance of her parents. Supposedly some time last night they had agreed to help her find them. But Bartol couldn't remember. Timmay was busy jotting notes in his book and reading over past musings.

A mile or two ahead to the West of the path, well not a path anymore, was a ravine. The ravine the goblin prisoner had spoken of 5 days ago. Bartol scurried down and told everyone what lie ahead.

After resuming their journey, the wolverine and Thane suddenly ran off to the left side of the group only to discover a treed raccoon. 

"So much for the big bad goblins," Bartol laughed.

And then it was Thane's turn to laugh. As Bartol nearly lead the group the wrong way. They had found the Caves.


----------



## diaglo

*Appearances can be deceiving*

Bartol scouted a little ahead. He slowed. Up ahead a group of 3 goblins sought protection from the light of the day. They made way too much noise as they grumbled in their guttural tongue.

"Goblins," Bartol yelled. He unleashed an arrow from his bow. The arrow missed its intended target.

The goblins reacted. They hurled short spears at the three closest adventurers. Bartol and Marcus of Tyr avoided the missles. But Timmay was too slow and a spear point grazed his side.

Thane unleashed a stone, which struck one of the goblin guards to the ground. And Timmay sent a crossbow bolt into the lung of another goblin. Marcus of Tyr closed the gap between the last guard and the group. He swung too high and missed. Bernedette moved behind Thane.

"Useless bow," Bartol thought. He pulled his sword and drove the point into the last guard.

Thane gave Timmay a healing berry. And Bartol searched the goblin's corpses.

Nothing. So Bartol took the point again useless bow and arrow nocked.

A strange creature yipped and ran off. It was covered in green scales and stood 3ft tall. Bartol fired, but struck a tree before the creature was lost from sight. He slung his bow over his shoulder disgustedly and drew his sword. Onward and slightly upward they went.

They had entered the Ravine, a boxed canyon really. A few cave openings were visible at various heights. A scattering of thicket and trees also climbed the sides. The cave the goblin had described was on the left side and close to the entrance to the ravine.

"There's our start," Timmay said. "The goblin said to avoid the higher caves and the ones closer to the back of the ravine. But let's see what we can find in the goblin cave first, shall we?"


----------



## diaglo

*put in his thumb and pulled out a ...*

Marcus of Tyr lead the group. While Bartol lit a torch.  Bernedette and Timmay occupied the middle of the group. And Thane cast a simple light spell on his club.

Not far into the entrance Marcus of Tyr faced his first decision. The passage forked. They could continue forward. The goblin had warned against this oh so many days ago. It was probably trapped.  The group could go left or right as well.

A look to the left showed a long tunnel. A similar scene was to the right. Marcus of Tyr chose the right. After travelling 30 or 40 ft the tunnel reached a T junction. A decision was not necessary. Two short spears sailed out of the dark missing Bartol and Marcus of Tyr. The fight was joined.

"BREEYARK," the goblins screamed.

Marcus of Tyr, Bartol, Timmay, and Bernedette advanced into the battle with a guard post of goblins. Bernedette was the first to strike. One of the goblins was slain. Five others remained. Four of these prepared to cast a volley of short spears and 1 was hefting a sack thru a rock wall into a room beyond. Timmay cast a few grains of sand into the air. And the rest of the guards went down.

Before anyone had time to do anything else. The rock wall moved and very large figure emerged. From all appearances this could only be an ogre.

Bartol worried that Bernedette and Marcus of Tyr would be within the ogre's grasp before they could react, raged and charged the giant. The ogre scanned the area. Seeing all of his allies sleeping and a charging half-elf, he swung his club. A most brutual shot. Bartol even enraged was gonna feel that one in the morning. And with the injury Bartol was unable to penetrate the ogre's skin armor. Marcus of Tyr reacted. Because of Bartol's distraction he was able to land a blow with his sword. The ogre did not like this treatment. And he smashed Marcus of Tyr with his return blow from his club. Ouch. A few ribs gave way. Bernedette moved behind the ogre.  Thane and the wolverine moved closer. Timmay began to dispatch the sleeping guards.

Bartol swung, again failing to leave a scratch. And Marcus of Tyr added another slash to the ogre's torso. Bernedette left a bruise on the right leg of the ogre. The wolverine closed and attempted to circle behind the ogre. The ogre struck the wolverine when it came into range. He then missed the wolverine as it took a bite out an ankle. Thane moved in behind the ogre as well.  Timmay continued the grisly business of cleaning up the guards.

Bartol saw a chance and buried his sword to the hilt in the ogre's chest. Down it fell barely missing the wolverine and Thane.


----------



## diaglo

*the beehive erupts*

Bartol cleaned his sword and retrieved his torch. Timmay continued with the guards. He went to find Bernedette when he was done. Marcus of Tyr moved to cover the group's back while Thane tended his wounds. Thane also cured Bartol and the wolverine. Bernedette had gone thru the opening in the rock wall the ogre had left.

Marcus of Tyr heard the shuffling of many booted feet. He scattered a pouch of sharp metal spikes on the ground by the tunnel the group had first entered. Around this corner came more goblins. The first 2 did not fare well with the spikes, although they still advanced. Marcus and Bartol easily dispatched them. Thane slung a stone and downed a third as it was just rounding the bend.

Bernedette, Timmay and the wolverine snooped around in the ogre's den. A large sack was plainly visible. Bernedette opened it and found some treasure.

Three more goblins closed more cautiously. Again Marcus of Tyr and Bartol layed them low. The remaining goblin turned and ran. Thane struck the wall just behind the fleeing creature.

Bartol manuvered his way thru the spikes and followed. But after awhile decided against it. He tossed his torch down the corridor. And then put away his sword and drew his bow. Marcus of Tyr collected his caltrops and returned them to his pouch. Thane went to look for the others. Bernedette had found a considerable sum of gold. Timmay and the wolverine also uncovered a sealed potion, some arrows, and a bone tube with a parchment inside.

It wasn't long before things got dicey. Bartol saw a group of much larger goblins, hobgoblins he remembered, come into view.

"We've got company. RUNNNNNNN," Bartol screamed.

He let loose an arrow and ran. The arrow caught the lead hobgoblin right between the eyes. The others bellowed and followed. Marcus saw Bartol run by. He scattered his caltrops again and joined the others in the Ogre cave. Thane also fled.


----------



## Angelsboi

*claps* 

You tell it so well Bartol and Bernedette may just surprise you =)


----------



## diaglo

*Will we ever escape?*

Bartol was the last to make it thru the rock opening as Marcus of Tyr swung it closed and lodged his sword in the side to seal it.

"What's going on?" Timmay asked.

"Hobgoblins," replied Bartol. "At least 6 of them, maybe more. I think I killed 1"

"Well, are we safe here?" Thane piped. "I see there is an opening to the outside over there. Maybe we should head outside? Goblins hate the sunlight."

And with that Timmay, Bernedette, Thane and the wolverine left. Outside, the entrance to the Ogre's Cave was hidden by a stand of trees and brush.

Marcus of Tyr said, "Listen. I think they have stopped."

It was true. The hobgoblins had struggled to open the door to no avail. Briefly, the noise of their feet could be heard fading from range.

"Maybe they are circling around," Marcus of Tyr continued. "We'd best go help the others."

"You'll need your sword." Bartol said as he drew the weapon from the crack.

"NOOOOO," Marcus of Tyr screamed too late.

The door swung open. And 2 swords struck Bartol on either side, which caused him to drop Marcus of Tyr's sword. Luckily he moved enough that they were just scrapes. Unfortunately for the hobgoblins, they gained Bartol's attention.

The attacker to the left was bisected across the waist by Bartol. Marcus of Tyr regained his sword, but couldn't make an effective attack with Bartol blocking the door.  The hobgoblin attacked, but deflected off Bartol's armor.

Bartol spun around and bisected the last attacker. None of the other hobgoblins were visible.


----------



## diaglo

*Once more into the breach...*

Bernedette and Timmay wandered back inside. They had shown the Ogre's loot to Thane. And he was trying to decipher the parchment in the sunlight. His trusty animal watched for trouble beside him. Bartol bent down and examined the hobgoblins' remains for any items of worth.

The party, except for Thane continued to search the dead. From the passageway to the right of the secret doorway back inside the goblin guard post, another group of goblins emerged. Bernedette muttered an incantation and a coating of oil appeared in their way.

Down they fell. One hobgoblin and 1 goblin escaped the mess. Marcus of Tyr and Bartol moved to the front of the ranks. Timmay used the last of his memorized spells to incapacitate the hobgoblin and 4 out of 5 of the goblins. They slept soundly.

The remaining goblin exchanged blows with Marcus of Tyr. The goblin ended up on the ground beside his companions. Bartol gathered the sleepers and bound them.

From the other direction a new group of hobgoblins or perhaps the remains of the other group arrived along with a handful of goblins.

Timmay turned. “Surrender,” he said in goblin. “And you may yet live to see another day.”

"You surrender," the hobgoblin leader answered. Timmay translated.

The negoiations bantered back and forth.

Bartol grew tired of it all. He grabbed the sleeping hobgoblin and slapped him awake.

"We have you surrounded. And we need more slaves. So you surrender," the hobgoblin continued. He heard the grunting of the hostage.

"That's what you think," Timmay smirked. "All of your bases are belong to us.  "

Bartol deposited the prisoner at Timmay's feet.  He then went back for 1 of the goblins.

"Enough of this," Thane said as he entered from the Ogre's Cave. He unleashed a stone, which struck the hobgoblin leader.

Thane's action stunned everyone. Neither side reacted. So Thane unleashed another stone. The leader fell. The goblins and hobgoblins charged.  They still numbered 2 hobgoblins and 3 goblins. Timmay took a spear to the side and lost consciousness. Bernedette was injured. She staggered and nearly lost consciousness, also. Marcus of Tyr still not fully healed from the Ogre's attack and the minor wounds from other battles moved to aid Bernedette. One of the hobgoblins attacked his exposed side. Down Marcus of Tyr fell. The wolverine ravaged a nearby goblin.

"TIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY," Bartol yelled and joined the fray. He spitted one of the hobgoblins.

Thane bashed 1 of the goblins skulls. The remaining hobgoblin and goblin attacked and further injured the wolverine. It went berserk and gutted the goblin. Bernedette moved and prayed to Tyr to help save Marcus. Bartol killed the last combatant.

Thane calmed the wolverine. Bernedette was successful in staunching any more blood loss for Marcus of Tyr. Bartol could not stop Timmay's loss, though. So Thane used his last spell and his healing goodberries on Timmay and Bernedette. Still Timmay and Marcus of Tyr were not out of trouble.

"The potion. Who has the Potion?" Bartol asked.

Thane handed it to Bartol.

But who needs it the most? Timmay or Marcus of Tyr? I can always carry Timmay. But Marcus of Tyr none of us can help while burdened. So...


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Mwahahaha....

Drink the potion, little man.


----------



## diaglo

*Down the Hatch*

Bartol poured the contents of the potion down Marcus of Tyr's throat. He convulsed immediately. A true battle was fought inside Marcus of Tyr.

"What the?," the group said as one.

"Poison. I suspect we purchased poison from the not so good Harvestmaster," Bernedette interjected.

Marcus of Tyr struggled. Thane and Bernedette hovered over him. None of his wounds showed signs of opening, luckily.

"Okay, okay, I think I still have some magic." Thane said. "I was holding back in case we needed it for the return trip. But it doesn't look like he can make it without."

Thane cast his spells and Marcus of Tyr revived. Marcus of Tyr called on Tyr's blessing and healed Bartol.

"You needed that more than I considering you will be carrying so much," Marcus of Tyr stated. 

Bartol placed the Ogre's sack over his shoulder. He then bent to pick up Timmay. But he decided he should lighten the gnome's load by handing the gnome's pack to Bernedette. She was more than happy to oblige. The spellbook inside may of had something to do with it. Bartol also pocketed the banker's key. Bernedette wasn't a part of that money. Timmay in hand he set off for the Keep.

"What about the goblins' hostages?" Bernedette asked. "I sure hope my parents are safe."

"We are no match for another patrol or assault," Marcus of Tyr responded. "By Tyr I shall return. We have our own prisoners to contend with now."

Thane gathered the 4 bound goblins and made them carry the unconscious hobgoblin. Marcus of Tyr and Bernedette leaned on each other for support.

As the group left by way of the Ogre's cave. A muffled shriek could be heard coming from the Goblin Cave.


----------



## diaglo

*Home sweet home*

The adventurers pushed themselves hard. And they pushed the goblins even harder. Bartol feared pursuit. If it came, he would dispatch the prisoners first. No point having them get in the way or be freed to help the pursuers. Marcus of Tyr and Bernedette were barely keeping pace.

This day, there was no pursuit. The miles and the hours passed uneventfully. Although, near the edge of the woods the group did hear the metal and whistling again.

Corporal Olaf would have been proud. By the time the Sun set they were in sight of the Keep. Bernedette sent her cat ahead with a note attached to get the guards. The group continued at a leisurely pace. Their burdens seemed lighter now.

The prisoners were exhausted. Their burden, the hobgoblin, had come to and was ordering them to release him, but Thane and the wolverine kept them moving.

Two guards arrived as the group approached the moat. They took charge of the prisoners. Captain Jherle and an elderly priest met the group at the gate. Father Demby of Tyr saw to the wounded and healed Timmay.

"Where's that Harvestmaster and his neophytes?" Bartol demanded. "He owes me 30gp. And I owe him a beating for selling me poison."

"In the morning," Marcus of Tyr offered. "We will seek our answers in the morning."

Bartol headed to the stable. The rest of the group went to the Inn. Inside the stable Bartol buried the Ogre's sack and the banker's key under a pile of hay. He was asleep almost immediately.


----------



## diaglo

*So many questions needing answers.*

As the  crowed the next morning, Bartol rose and prepared himself for the day. He uncovered the sack and pocketed the key. Next stop was the bank. A few coins had been donated to Father Demby last night, but there were still plenty left.

As Bartol exited the bank an angry gnome met him.

"Where do you think you are going?" Timmay asked. "And if you don't want to cluck like a chicken every time your name is mentioned, where's my pack?"

Bartol handed Timmay the key. "I thought you wouldn't be up yet," he said sheepishly. "I gave Bernedette your pack. So I could carry you."

Timmay turned and headed back to the inn. Bartol hurried to catch up.

Bernedette and Thane were not around. Marcus of Tyr sat enjoying a large breakfast.

"Come. Join me," Marcus of Tyr offered. "It seems our friend the Harvestmaster and his acolytes left earlier than expected. Thane and Bernedette have gone to investigate their rooms."

Timmay and Bartol sat down to eat. Many minutes later, Thane and Bernedette appeared. Bernedette returned Timmay's pack.

"A rancid smell of decaying plant or animal matter was found in the room," Bernedette stated. "I suspect the Harvestmaster was not a worshipper of Chauntea. More likely he followed Malar or some other beast."

"Let's go question the goblins," Thane said. "I think we will need to know more before we go back to the Caves. And I also think we should return today."

The group rose and went to the find the gaol. Marcus of Tyr vouched for the character of the group. An elf, the castellan's advisor, came with them to act as interpreter and to get more information for the castellan. 

The hobgoblin proved to be very stubborn. He had a large paw print tatooed on his chest. He proudly admitted slaying humans, dwarves, and elves. Marcus of Tyr summarily executed him for his confession. The advisor was taken back a little by this act, but he understood. Afterwards, one of the goblins was more than happy to spill the beans.

Marcus of Tyr pledged to release the goblin and his tribesmen if he could convince the chieftain to stop raiding the surrounding communities. The goblin agreed to act as a guide and to lead the group back to the chieftain. He made no other promises.


----------



## diaglo

*If you can't beat them...*

The nasty little creature lead the adventurers out of the Keep and down the path once again. It, Grack, complained the whole trip about the sunlight. Timmay played mindgames with Grack to get it to reveal any and all information. Bartol and Marcus of Tyr were more watchful. Now they knew the threat was real. Even Bernedette and Thane were quiet.

As the group approached the now familiar bend. Grack cowered under Marcus of Tyr.

"This bad man's place," Timmay translated for Grack.

According to Grack, the bad man apparently killed and ate goblins. Marcus of Tyr reassured Grack he would be safe if he kept to his agreement. So the group continued.

Everyone noticed a group of carrion eaters circling above near where the group would leave the path to go to the ravine.

"I hope that's not the hostages," Bernedette whispered.

"As do we all," Thane replied.

Unfortunately, it proved to be a grisly sight. Two female heads, one young and one old, spitted on spears. Grack said nothing. But he hurried off the path and toward the ravine.

As Grack neared the previous ambush site, he turned to the group.

"Be very quiet," Timmay translated. "We go this way."

And they skirted around and took a smaller spoor. Once again they reached the Ravine.

"Me go ahead to talk with chief," Grack offered thru Timmay.

"Not on your life," Timmay replied.

So the group entered the Goblin Cave. Bartol lit a torch.

They plodded the same tunnel they had travelled before. Grack stayed in the lead.

At the guardpost, only 2 goblins met them. A series of negotiations began. Marcus of Tyr, Bernedette, Thane, and Timmay handed their weapons to Bartol. And 1 of the guards stayed to keep an eye on the barbarian. Grack and the other guard took the rest of the group to speak with the chief.

When the others were out of sight and sound, Bartol flexed his muscles. The goblin cowered but did not leave.

"You were responsible for those ladies' deaths, weren't you?" Bartol said.

The goblin just stared.

"Fine," Bartol mummured. "I can't see killing you. And I don't know how much trouble the others are getting into unarmed without me. So..." And with that he brought his sword around just missing with the flat of the blade.

The goblin shrieked. It tried to stab Bartol but was wide. Bartol didn't miss the second time. The goblin sprawled out cold.

"Sleep tight," Bartol said as he went to find the others.

Around the corner and up ahead a ways Bartol could hear voices. He recognized Timmay, Bernedette, and Marcus of Tyr speaking, but the other voice was not Thane. There was also some guttural goblinspeak in the background. 

Bartol listened for a moment and then entered the room. The chieftain just smiled.

"So glad you could join us," the Chief said in perfect Common. "Is he dead?"

"Nah," Bartol answered. "But he will have a headache for a week."

Bernedette continued the negotiations. The party's demands included: 1) freeing the hostages 2) no more raids 3) information on the other tribes and 4) help against the other tribes. Their offer was: 1) leave the goblins alone 2) tell the Keep to leave them alone 3) a share of the treasure from the other tribes 4) and to forgive any passed crimes.

The chief's demands were: 1) gold 2) more slaves 3) arms and armor 4) death of the Old Hermit. His offer included: 1) to let the party live 2) to send Grack with the group as the tribe representative 3) to split the treasure 70/30

Needless to say. The negotiations continued...


----------



## diaglo

*Medic Alert. What are you allergic to?*

All this chatter bored Bartol. So he pulled out his whetstone and idly worked on his weapons. After a while, he heard the noise of footsteps coming from the back passage.

"I knew we couldn't trust these creatures," Bartol mumbled. He went into a fighting stance and prepared to slice and dice the first being thru the archway.

But torchlight proceeded the footsteps. And the sound of a human's voice droned on about the crowded nature of the caves.

"Hello," Valgrim said as he rounded the corner.

Bartol pulled up short of gutting the priest.

"Watch it, Valgrim," Marcus of Tyr commented. "You almost had a new bellybutton. Our barbarian friend is a little on edge."

"Oh, sorry," Valgrim apologized. "I was hoping to catch you before you made it into the Cave. I had a hard time finding you. Luckily, Lathander was smiling on me."

Turning back to the negotiations; Bernedette, Thane, Timmay, and Chief Van Dekk had come to an agreement. The party would clear a cave at the bottom of the Ravine to show their good intentions. And the goblins would provide more information on another tribe, provided the party returned.

The Cave to be cleared was home to the Eaters of Men. The physical characteristics of the Eaters were unknown to the goblins. They only knew those who went in never came out. To prove their deeds the party had to return with a trophy.

So far Chief Van Dekk had provided some useful information. The goblins were the Fist Clan. Their bigger allies, masters really, were the hobgoblin tribe known as the Wolf Clan. On the opposite side of the Ravine was a tribe of lizard like creatures, kobolds probably, called the Claw Clan. They were allied with the Eye Clan. The party presumed the Eye Clan to be orcs. The Wolf and Eye Clans were enemies. A tribe of hairy larger goblinoids lived higher up in the Ravine. But Chief Van Dekk didn't speak to them. The whole Ravine owed allegiance to a group of Priests. The priests were human. Or at least that is what Van Dekk speculated.

With little fanfare the party exited the Goblin Cave and set off for the bottom of the Ravine.


----------



## diaglo

*who's afraid of the dark?*

The party travelled further into the Ravine then they had previously. Bartol and Marcus of Tyr scoured the lay of the land ahead. Bernedette and Thane chatted away in the middle of the group. And Timmay and Valgrim brought up the rear. An odor assaulted everyone's senses as they neared a group of trees at the back of the Ravine.

"It wasn't me this time," Bartol smiled.

Thane offered a mint concoction for the upper lip of the adventurers to mask some of stink. Even in the middle of the growing season the trees in this part of the Ravine were nearly bare. The detritus on the ground was far beyond the normal decay. A cave opening was visible thru the treeline.

"Is this the one?" Valgrim asked. "Or is it the one up there?" He pointed to an opening 30 or so feet higher up to the left.


"We'll start here." Marcus of Tyr stated. "And if this isn't it. We will try the one above."

Bernedette, the wolverine, and Thane approached the entrance. The ground was squishy and damp. And as they moved into the cave it became a little bit crunchy. Bartol moved to the front. He poked the ground with his sword and uncovered the remains, a skull of some poor humanoid.

"Alas, poor Yorrick....I knew him, Horatio." Bartol stammered as he held the skull. A once silver coin fell out of the back of the skull into his hand.

Timmay lit a torch and entered with Marcus of Tyr and Valgrim. The cave went in three directions. To the right a mass of slime dripped from the ceiling and onto the floor. Ahead the tunnel meandered out of sight. And to the left some of the slime covered floor had been swept away.

"I'm not going right," Thane proclaimed. "Besides something to the left has made a trail."

Bernedette stared off into oblivion. "There is a source of magic to the left," She finally said.

Concentrating on the source Bernedette lead the way.

"Come back here," Marcus of Tyr called. He hurried off to act as a bodyguard. The rest of the group followed.

Bernedette's cat was the first to notice cave occupants. She launched herself off her shoulder mount and onto a rat as it was scurring past. Then everyone noticed. As a swarm of rats chittered around the feet of the adventurers. Bernedette's concentration was broken.

Bartol, Marcus of Tyr, Thane, the wolverine, Timmay and Valgrim all struck at the supposed assailants. The remainder of the pack rats fled. Not one of them had attacked the group.

"That's not good," Timmay said. "Something..."

Before he had a chance to finish, Bernedette shrieked. A very large and very sharp paw just at the edge of the light had appeared passing over Bernedette's head.

The race was on. Everyone, although initially startled, reacted quickly to chase the beast. And as the small torchbearing gnome rounded the corner to catch up, the group had cornered a very strange beast. It was part Bear, part Bird.

"Owlbear," Timmay shouted.

The beast charged. It raked its claws on Marcus of Tyr's shoulder. Marcus returned the favor with a stab to the beast's midsection. Bartol's anger boiled as the smell of first blood was released. He stepped in for a strike. His blow was fended off by the agile beast. Thane cast a spell which outlined the creature in multicoloured hues. Bernedette fired off a ray, which at first appeared to weaken the owlbear, but then had no effect. The quarters were to tight for Valgrim so he summoned Lathander's magic to surpress some of the creature's strength. Timmay, the wolverine, and the cat waited in the wings with the light source.

The creature tried to grab Marcus of Tyr, but was only able to glance off his armor. Bartol was not so fortunate as the beast bit him on the arm. Marcus of Tyr and Bartol both struck the creature. Thane launched a flask of burning oil, which splashed all over owlbear's chest. Unfortunately, the oil also burned Marcus of Tyr. Bernedette tried another ray. This one was like a string of icicles. It worked but seemed to have little effect on the creature. Valgrim moved closer and healed Marcus of Tyr.

The creature reached out and grabbed the raging Bartol. Bartol nearly passed out from the concussion of both of those paws and claws grasping him. Only his fury kept him alive. The creature began to back away. Marcus of Tyr in a parting shot stabbed the beast. Bartol raged and raged to escape, but to no avail. The beast was still by far stronger than the half-human. Thane moved closer and struck the final blow with his cudgel. The fire so close to Bartol was enough to cause him to lose consciousness. Valgrim and Bernedette bent to his aid. Lathander's magic stirred Bartol.

Bartol the barbarian raged and raged all over the dead beast.


----------



## Angelsboi

dont forget the title i suggested for the next installment


----------



## diaglo

*You ooze, you lose*

Valgrim, Marcus of Tyr, and Thane did what they could to restore the party to full health once again. While Bartol gleefully added the owlbear's head to a sack for the goblin chief. Bernedette and Timmay sorted thru the owlbear's nest to recover what treasure they could.

A bone scroll tube was uncovered with a divine scroll inside. Thane took the scroll to study later.

"Well what do we do now?" Timmay asked. "I think we've made enough noise to disturb whatever else is living nearby."

Bartol grabbed a torch and backtracked to try the next tunnel leading the group. Marcus of Tyr and the rest spread out to examine the cave.

After a few minutes of wandering, Bernedette's familiar reacted to movement on the floor.

"It moves," Bernedette vocalized just before a large pseudopod reached for Marcus of Tyr.

A large mass of goo crawled along the floor and responded to the warm bodies. It was grayish green in color.

"It's an ooze," Thane said. He quickly lit a flask and hurled it.

Bartol dropped his torch and drew his sword as he advanced. The ooze slammed hard against him. Bartol sliced the blob in two.

"Don't use your sword it won't work," Timmay interjected too late. Timmay climbed aboard Valgrim's shoulders.

Marcus of Tyr dropped a cover on the back of blob and used it to cross to the other side.

Thane crossed to the other side. The oozes reached for Bartol. Both missed. Bartol not having anything else to do cut one of the oozes into even smaller sections. Bernedette hesistated, but attempted to follow Thane and Marcus of Tyr's lead. Unfortunately, one of the oozes tripped her. She landed on the back of the larger one, struck her head, and lost consciousness. Valgrim also hurried to cross the other side with Timmay. He, too, stumbled. Timmay went flying. He landed bruised but clear of danger on the other side. The oil continued to burn. Marcus used his sword to cut Bernedette and Valgrim free. The blobs sizzled and expired.

"Well, I guess we need this scroll now instead of later," Thane said.

He restored Bernedette to consciousness. And then healed most of Bartol's injuries. Timmay wasn't much better.

"Let's hope that is all," Valgrim offered.


----------



## diaglo

*When it rains, it pours*

"We have yet to search the other tunnels," Bartol mentioned.

So the group returned to the entrance area and went down the middle tunnel. Nothing. A little drier than the rest but still empty. They again came back to the entrance. 

"I'll clear a path," Marcus of Tyr stated.

He took out his sword and the torch and cleared the slime from the overhanging arch to the right tunnel. He handed the torch back to Bartol. After walking a little way down the tunnel it opened into a small cave with a pool of water. A glimmer of metal on the bottom of the pool shone from the torchlight.

Bartol prepared to enter the pool. He was passing the torch to Valgrim when a mass of goo fell from the ceiling.

Bartol shook like a large dog and freed himself from the blob. But not before it left its mark. Thane hurled another flask of burning oil onto the ooze. Luckily Bartol moved aside to avoid being burned. Timmay was not so lucky or healthy. He went down. Valgrim pulled him free. Marcus of Tyr attacked the ooze with his sword, dividing it. Bartol struck  one of the oozes with the torch. Bernedette stayed out of range.

The oozes battered Marcus of Tyr. Valgrim forced a potion down Timmay's throat. Timmay was conscious again. Marcus of Tyr sliced another section of ooze. And Bartol attacked another. The oil burned. Crackle, sizzle, sputter. Stop. No more ooze.

No more healing spells, potions, or curatives. ANd nearly everyone in the party was close to exhaustion or death.

Bartol splashed into the pool to clean up.

"I say we bed down here for the night," Valgrim said. "In the morning I can restore some of our health. Right now, it would not be wise to visit the goblins."

"Yeah, we would make quick slaves," Timmay agreed. "And they will think us slain by the Eaters."


----------



## diaglo

*To the victor go the spoils, not quite*

The adventurers took turns on watch as well as tending each others wounds. Only Thane had escaped unharmed. Bernedette slept very restlessly. In the morning, Valgrim and Thane healed a little more of the injuries. Timmay and Bernedette prepared spells in case of more trouble with the goblins. The party divvied up the treasure from the pool.

Bartol grabbed the Owlbear sack and led the group back out into the light of day. He strolled to the Goblin Cave.

Two goblin guards met him just inside the entrance. He tossed the sack to the nearest one.

"We have returned," Bartol growled. "Go get the chief."

Even though, they didn't understand his words, they grasped the meaning behind them. So the party was led to the common room.

"Well done," Chief Van Dekk mused. "I see you survived. I had my doubts."

Timmay filled the Chief in on the nature of the occupants of the now empty Cave.

The Chief proceeded to inform the group about the hobgoblin tribe in the next cave. In return for killing or defeating the hobgoblin chief and providing the goblins with the remaining tribe members as slaves, the party would be allowed to free the hobgoblins' hostages.  The goblins would prevent any of the hobgoblins from fleeing. Chief Van Dekk also offered to house the party while they rested and regained their strength for the assault.

A small victory feast was enjoyed by all. Most did not drink the offered alcohol. Nor did they touch the meat. Bartol was the exception and celebrated like any *true* warrior.  

The foodstuffs were of excellent quality. It appeared that the caravan raids had been very successful for all those on the victorious side. And the wine too was of a fine quality. But the quantity not the quality was of the most interest to the warriors.


----------



## diaglo

*Bumbling, stumbling, rumbling*

Since the goblins were so agreeable and did not try any funny business. The party let down their guard a little. Valgrim, Thane, and Marcus of Tyr saw to everyone's remaining injuries. Timmay got a crude map of the Hobgoblins' lair from Chief Van Dekk. Bernedette studied her spellbook. Thane also talked the Chief into donating 2 flasks of oil for the upcoming mission.

The party also heard from the Chief about the Ogre's mate. She would be returning soon and would not be happy.

In the morning, the Chief led the group to a storage room. At the back of the room was a secret passage to the Hobgoblin tunnels.

"Good luck," Chief Van Dekk said as he dismissed the group. "We will cover the other exits in case of their retreat. I will be Chief of all the Caves.  "

Bartol opened the door and stepped into the passage. The others followed. At a T-junction the group split up. Timmay and Bartol prepared to attack a group of 4 hobgoblin guards on the left side of the tunnel. The guards were huddled around a table playing a crude game with dice. Bernedette, Thane, Valgrim, the wolverine, and Marcus of Tyr tried to cover their torches and went to the right.

Timmay reacted first. He tossed a pinch of sand into the air and mumbled a few arcane words. The guards as a group slumped down in slumber.

"Leave No enemies to prevent your escape," Bartol thought to himself. He strode forward and executed a guard.

Bernedette got a shock. A guard to the right saw the light and took a swing at her. Luckily, though, the wall provided some cover and he missed. Thane and the wolverine stepped to her aid and brought the guard down. No other guards were in sight.

The object of the group's mission was located in the direction Bartol had gone. So everyone hurried to catch up. It was a small room. But it had 2 doors.

Bartol executed another guard. Timmay came over and started binding the 2 remaining. Marcus of Tyr, Thane, Bernedette, and Valgrim covered the doors.

A guard stuck his head out the door to the left and fell to a sword thrust.

"BREEeeeYarkkkk," another Guard behind him screamed.

Thane let fly a stone, which struck but did not stop the shrieker. Bernedette summoned a protective barrier. Valgrim and Marcus of Tyr continued to cover the other door. Timmay was still trussing the sleeping guards.

Bartol moved into the room and gutted a guard. Thane slung another stone into the air, a miss. Just missing Bartol too. Bernedette also moved into the melee. The 2 remaining guards exchanged missing blows with Bartol and Bernedette. Thane continued to sling stones. Finally after several agonizing moments a stone brought the original shrieking violet down. The remaining guard scratched Bartol on the arm. This left him open to a counter by Bartol. Bartol took his head off.

In the meantime, a very large sentient wolf had entered the original guard room. Marcus of Tyr and Valgrim wounded the creature. But not enough to stop it from tackling Timmay. It thrashed about with Timmay in its jaws. The wolverine reacted to protect the gnome. Valgrim summoned Lathander's magic. The wolf beast lost some of its viciousness. Marcus of Tyr tried but failed to free Timmay.

Bernedette ran to the gnome's aid. Good or Bad, the creature dropped the gnome and tore into Bernedette.  When it was done it tossed her aside like a ragdoll. Thane saved the girl's life with a quick spell. Valgrim grabbed Timmay and prevented any more loss of his lifeblood. Marcus of Tyr and the wolverine brought the wolf low.

Bartol was attacked from another side door. The guard paid the ultimate price for the scrape.


----------



## diaglo

*Curses foiled again*

"Well," Valgrim mentioned, "they know we are here."

Timmay propped himself against the wall with the only still lit torch. A guard, a warrior, and a witch entered the fray. The witch stayed in the doorway. The guard went down first. Marcus of Tyr stabbed the warrior as he tumbled past. The warrior returned the blow to Marcus of Tyr. Valgrim and the witch squared off in a duel of magic. Valgrim won. The witch's spell was spoiled. Thane continued to try and revive Bernedette. He succeeded. The warrior tumbled back out of the room.

Bartol could smell the blood. But couldn't get in on the fight. Too many people in the way. He raged.

"Let me at 'em," Bartol roared. "LEt me at 'em."

He slammed thru the door the last guard he slew came thru. It led into the same room as the witch and the warrior. It was dark but the outline of them near the doorway was enough. Bartol attacked with gusto. Any normal, any 4 normal men would've died from the blow. Somehow the hobgoblin warrior did survive. This could only be the chief. Bartol was impressed.

The chief made a very smart decision and fled the way Bartol had come, sacrificing the witch. Valgrim, Thane, and Marcus of Tyr finished her. Bartol raged. He chased the chief. But soon lost sight of everything. Timmay still had the only light. And Timmay was not with him.

Bartol struck at the darkness. Again and again he swung his large sword.

Timmay, Bernedette, and the wolverine wandered into view with the light. A trail of blood led to a wall.

After a brief search, the door was opened. The blood trail continued. And another wall appeared.

"We still have 2 prisoners," Bartol thought. "I should've finished them. Oh well, too late now. We have to stop the chief from summoning more aid."

Another mad search to find a way to open the door happened. Tick tock, tick tock. It opened and Bartol charged thru with Timmay on his heels.

WHIIiiiirrirrr, click, click...


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Now that you're caught up, you might want to consider renaming the Story Hour to something a little more catchy (and eliminating the current typo, to boot).

Like: "Return to the Little Keep on the Borderlands of Mistledale 3E" , or

"In Search of the Unknown in Mistledale", or maybe just

"The Defenders of Mistledale" ...


----------



## diaglo

Done.

see you on Sunday.


----------



## Angelsboi

How about Four Plus TIMMAY!!!


----------



## diaglo

*Ambush...exeunt stage left*

Two crossbow bolts sailed out of the darkness. Bartol's instincts avoided 1, but not the other. Injured, but not fatally, he closed the distance between himself and the ambusher on the left. Another guard hurled a burning flask of oil thru the doorway into the midst of the group. It struck Valgrim full on. Bernedette and Marcus of Tyr both avoided the residual splash.

The room contained racks, bundles, barrels, and all sorts of other items. Many forms of weaponry and armor could be seen with Timmay's torch light. There were also 4 hobgoblins. Two were busy reloading their crossbows. One was arming himself with a longspear. And the last was reaching for more oil.

Marcus of Tyr closed with the spearman. The spearman thrust out but did not penetrated Marcus of Tyr's armor. Marcus of Tyr swung his sword, which the hobgoblin avoided. Timmay directed his attention to the oilman and the other crossbowman. With the flick of the wrist and the scattering of sand, both slept soundly. Bartol decapitated the other crossbowman. Seeing his allies fall, the remaining hobgoblin fled from his melee with Marcus of Tyr.

Valgrim swooned from his wounds and was revived by Thane. Bernedette summoned "Dawg." Dawg chased after the fleeing guard only to return barking. And then he vanished.

"Dawg says the way is clear ahead," Bernedette spoke. "The guard has fled around a corner."

She began binding the sleeping hobgoblins. Valgrim using some of Lathander's magic restored a little of his own health. Bartol, Timmay, Marcus of Tyr, Thane, and the wolverine hurried to watch the next corridor. When no reinforcements arrived they returned to the room and searched the cache of weapons and armor.

Many, many crossbow bolts, spears, a few shields, some battle axes, a few swords, and an assortment of armor. Thane recovered 3 more flasks of oil.

"Great," Timmay mumbled. "Our pyromaniac druid is armed to the teeth."


----------



## Angelsboi

She summoned her golden colored corgi named Dioji.  not 'Dawg' 

*mumbles* damn barbarian.

And dont forget her cheshire cat look-alike, Amy (short for amethyst)


----------



## diaglo

*When all else fails*

The group soon realized they had lost any hope of catching the Chief. Only Chief Van Dekk's ambush would stop him now. If the goblin hadn't doublecrossed them. The party bolstered their spirits and moved back into the corridor. Many booted feet could be heard disappearing ahead. After a brief jaunt to catch them, the party saw light ahead.

"That's far enough," a voice cried out in Common. "Throw down your weapons and surrender. We have you surrounded."

Two groups of hobgoblins blocked 2 tunnels visible in the light. The voice came from yet another side passage. The side passage was the source of the light. Fresher air also came from that way. An exit obviously. And the voice, the party guessed belonged to the Hobgoblin chief.

"You and what army," Bartol bellowed. "Coward. I'll take you on in single combat."

"Yeah, our Champion will wipe the cave walls with your entrails," Timmay added. "With whom am I speaking?" Timmay took over negoitations.

"Your Champion versus Ours." the Hobgoblin Chief laughed. "I am Chief Grokk."

"We have slain your guards," Bernedette sidestepped. "And the goblin chief Van Dekk is with us."

"Ha, ha, haaaa," Grokk snickered. "Van Dekk is with me."

"Damn dirty goblin," Timmay muttered. "I knew he would turn on us. Van Dekk show yourself."

Van Dekk appeared from around the corner. "Surrender," he winked. "You are no match for Fist and Wolf clans combined might." He ducked back.

"Well, what now?" Marcus of Tyr asked to the group.

Thane lit a flask of oil.


----------



## diaglo

*Your guess is as good as mine*

All Heck broke loose. The flaming oil landed amidst the group of hobgoblin guards directly across the way. Bartol buried an arrow in the skull of one of the hobgoblins from the righthand tunnel. Timmay put the rest of the visible combatants on the right to sleep. Bernedette, Valgrim, and Marcus of Tyr moved forward.

A very large wolf, worg probably, from each of the passageways attacked the party. The remaining guards fought thru the flames. Some perished. Chiefs Grokk and Van Dekk did not appear. However, the sounds of battle could be heard coming from their direction.

Thane lobbed another flask of oil at the hobgoblins. Bartol exchanged blows with one of the worgs. The worg pulled him from his feet. Marcus of Tyr, Valgrim, Bernedette, her familiar, and the wolverine battled the other. Marcus of Tyr and Valgrim were injured. Timmay summoned a strange shadowy magic to confuse one of the hobgoblins that did make it free of the flames.

Thane bolstered Marcus of Tyr's health. Bartol while still on his rump swung his sword and killed the worg. As he attempted to rise, a hobgoblin spearman struck him down. Valgrim moved away from the other worg and dragged Bartol free of the combat...


(A lot more happened but Bartol was unconscious for the remainder of the combat and negoiations afterward)

Bartol awoke with a start. "Did we win?"

"Aye," Timmay replied. " We also almost lost."

Timmay told Bartol of the appearance of an Ogress. Of the flight of the Hobgoblin Chief once again; Of the near death of Van Dekk by Grokk's hands; Of all the dead goblins and hobgoblins. And how only he and Thane remained healthy. Valgrim, Bernedette, Bartol, and Marcus of Tyr were in bad shape. And none of the spellcasters had any magic available. Even the potions and scrolls they had, they used. Timmay apologized for almost killing Bartol with an attempt to try one of the potions.

Van Dekk was helpful but not greatful. Many of his tribe were now dead. What few remained would not be enough to fend off an attack by any of the other tribes. He did, however, gain the loyalty of the hobgoblins taken prisoner by the party.

The party was in no shape to complete their mission to free the prisoners the hobgoblin tribe still had.


----------



## diaglo

*Home again home again...*

During the night one of the goblins summoned Van Dekk and the party. The remaining free hobgoblins were attempting a break. With little sleep and not enough time to regain spells the party agreed to join. But any prospects of battle seemed deadly.

"We are taking our slaves and leaving," Chief Grokk called out from the cave. "Any attempt to stop us or follow will result in their deaths."

"We will kill you when you leave," Van Dekk answered.

"Wait," Bernedette interrupted. "Let me see the prisoners."

"Come inside little girl," Grokk offered. "If you try anything funny we will kill the slaves."

"No wait," Timmay said too late, as Bernedette entered the cave.
 

After a few minutes a scream and a thump were heard from inside.

"Foolish girl," Grokk said. "We are coming out. Move aside."

"Let the slaves go and we will not trouble you again." Timmay tried.

The hostage negotiations continued. It was agreed that the party would collect the slaves from the roadside in 2 hours time. 

Meanwhile, Van Dekk went to prepare an ambush. The party would follow the Hobgoblins out of missle range and let them go.

Six slaves carried by 8 hobgoblins left the cave at the agreed upon time. They used a forced march. The party trailed them. Marcus of Tyr and Valgrim lagged behind.

At the roadside, the hobgoblins let down their packages. One of the hobgoblins lingered a few moments longer. A flash of steel could be seen. He then fled.

Bartol pulled his bow and sprinted to the rescue. One of the hostages pulled an axe off the ground and buried it in the neck of another of the hostages.

Although an incredibly hard shot on the run at the limit of his range with his many injuries and only moonlight to see by Bartol brought the attacker down with one shot. As he drew near he saw the attacker was a crazed gnoll. His arrow lodged in its heart.

The dead hostage was an orc. Of the four remaining hostages, all humans, only one was awake. Bernedette and the other two were starting to come round when Bartol bent to free them.

"Praise Chauntea," the awake one said.

"Screw Chauntea," Bartol huffed. "Thank Torm."


----------



## diaglo

*hey, with 1hp what can you do*

The party roused the prisoners. Two were guards. And the last was the missing merchant Wimbly. Everyone decided it was best to head back to Peldan's Helm. Of Van Dekk and his ambush there was no sign.

As dawn broke Valgrim gave praise to Lathander. The Keep was in sight. Charl and Sabine met the party at the gate. One of the other guards went to find Father Demby of Tyr. The party headed for the Inn.

At the inn, Timmay told the tale of the party's brush with the Caves. Bernedette chimed in and added a woman's perspective. But Bartol, always his truthful self, felt the tale was missing something so he retold it leaving out none of the details. The merchant's wife was one of the prisoners slain and left as an example by the hobgoblin Chief Grokk. Wilf's daughter was the other. Wilf was grief struck. But at least now he knew.

Oscar Wimple, the merchant's true name, and his guards thanked the party by paying for the drinks and food. He offered a more suitable reward when he had time to make it back to Ashabenford.

Wilf told the party that Snap had left with the caravan a day earlier. The grain in town had all gone bad.

The Captain of the Guard, Father Demby of Tyr, and Ellier the Castellan's advisor arrived and invited the party to a banquet that evening. The Castellan Denier wanted to hear more firsthand from the party.

So after cleaning up a bit and dressing their wounds the party went to a feast. Bartol made it about two steps in to the banquet hall before he made his first social blunder. Bernedette and Thane quickly took him in hand and led him aside. A cup of ale and he was easily distracted. When he attempted to interrupt the Castellan, Thane struck a blow for all civilization. And Bartol slept the rest of the evening.

(A lot more happened at the banquet but Bartol was asleep)


----------



## diaglo

*An old friend returns*

The next morning Bartol found himself in his usual bed, the stable. After dunking his head in the trough, he dressed and headed into the Inn. Sometime during his rest Valgrim or Father Demby must have tended to his wounds. Inside he encountered Eric.

"Long time no see," Bartol exclaimed. "We could've used your sword arm these last 4 days."

"Really?" Eric asked. "I've been busy myself helping with the caravan and then the Keep. Marcus of Tyr has returned to guard duty. Who's the chicky?"


"Oh, that's Bernedette," Bartol replied. "She, Timmay, and Thane are thick as thieves. Must have something to do with the magic they throw around. She will be upset to see Marcus of Tyr leave our group."

Timmay, Valgrim, and Thane soon arrived with the items from the bank. Valgrim elected to remain behind at Peldan's Helm as well. The rest of the group decided to pursue the Fat Cleric of Chauntea. Everyone guessed he was responsible for the grain spoiling. And with some samples of the rot and news from the Caves, Ashabenford seemed like the first stop. Tomorrow they would leave.

Before they set off, however, the group had some money to spend. Bartol bought a buckler from the smith. Not a good one, but at least it would help. Bernedette spent the day with Ellier the Advisor. Thane, Eric, and Timmay also bought supplies.

As most of the group returned to the inn, they discovered Brother Martin the Baker pleading with Wilf for help. Some monster was in his kitchen.

So Thane assumed it was the wolverine. Everyone tagged along just to be sure and to have a laugh at Thane's expense.

The Bakery was a small building and the wolverine was inside. But that wasn't the problem as Thane soon discovered. A small crust covered creature with fiery breath burnt the Druid's side badly. The wolverine fled with Thane right behind. Eric and Bartol drew their swords and advanced on the Monster Calzone. Timmay grabbed a chair and dragged it to a nearby window to get a shot at the construct with his crossbow.

The Monster belched a hot,thick, red paste on Eric. Timmay was still positioning himself for a shot. Eric cut into the crust. Bartol took a chunk out of the doorway. Thane and the wolverine stayed with Brother Martin.

The creature tried striking Eric but didn't penetrate his armor.Timmay just missed Eric's head. Eric sliced a layer off the crust. Bartol took another chunk out of the door.

The creature tried again but to no avail. Timmay hit. And Eric finished it off.

"Hhhmmmm," Bartol mentioned. "I'm hungry. I'm going to wait for this thing to cool down and then eat it."


----------



## diaglo

*On the road again*

Shortly after the meal, another interesting event occurred. Two riders from Tilverton, both badly injured and on road weary steeds, entered Peldan's Helm. Their caravan had been ambushed. They were the only known survivors. Very large, hairy humanoids had attacked from cover with missle fire. Bartol and Eric offered to escort the men back to Ashabenford.

Much later in the evening, Bernedette returned from her "studies" with Ellier. At first the comments the other party members made went completely over the naive girl's head. Much to her chagrin, though, she finally caught the jist of what they were saying about her and the Elderly Advisor.

Unfortunately, Wilf cut the drinks off early. The grain trouble proved to be harsh on Bartol's mood. It seemed that it was time to travel.

The next morning Bernedette rode with Timmay. And everyone made a few more comments at Bernedette's expense.

Supplies were low for the party. So Thane and Bartol had to provide from the wilderness along the way. Both were able hunters. The trip was uneventful the first 2 days. On the middle of the 3rd day as the party passed a familiar bridge, an elderly woman called to them. Her farm had been attacked by bandits. Her husband was injured and their livestock was stolen. Since the party was already occupied with other matters, they offered to relay the message to the authorities and to help the farmers upon their return.

On the morning of the 4th day of their trip from Peldan's Helm, the party reached Ashabenford. They quickly split up to relay messages, buy goods, gather information, and see family. They also asked about the Fat Cleric. Bernedette had the most luck. The Fat man had been to Chauntea's shrine. The food stores were spoiled as a result.

Bartol bought some better armor. He and Eric informed the Riders of the troubles on the road and of the continuing troubles in Peldan's Helm including the latest caravan raid. Afterwards everyone met back at the White Hart.

Glen or the Abbey of the Goldensheaf seemed the next logical step for the Fat Cleric. The party decided on Glen.


----------



## Angelsboi

Ellier the Advisor is an elf.  hes not THAT old and just because she is a Caller and learned the spell Mount doesnt mean anything


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Ye gonna update yer story b'for t' game thi' weekend, 'r are ye gonna tempt th' will of the HP dice gods?

(Not that chasing the evil fat friar is particularly stimulating reading, but one does have to keep his public happy.)


----------



## diaglo

*Distractions.*

Even on horseback Glen was a three day journey. Luckily Thane's family had ran an inn about halfway there. And Timmay was originally from Glen. So the party had a good understanding and some political contacts once they reached the town. Bartol and Thane once again provided most of the diet from the wilderness.

But the trip was not without peril.

Late one evening Amy, Bernedette's cat familiar, was prowling around hunting for some field mice. She was supposed to be on guard duty. Or at least that is what Bernedette had instructed her to do. When she saw some rather large figures crawling thru the brush. Upon closer inspection she discovered several humans. She quickly woke Bernedette. And Bernedette stirred the camp.

Eric fired an arrow into the brush striking one of the sneak thieves. The jig was up and battle soon commenced.  Timmay moved forward and tossed some sand into the air. Three of the men stopped crawling and fell asleep. Bernedette slicked down the last one with a nasty oily spell. Bartol charged forward to menace the last awake man. They wore the crest of the Zhents.

"Throw down your weapons and yield to me," Bartol commanded.

The lone man attempted to move and escape. Bartol severed the man in twain. Four horsemen approached. One dismounted and began to help the sleeping men. Thane and the wolverine moved closer and cast a spell to make the weeds come to life. Entangling most of the combatants. Bartol remained just at the edge of the area.

Eric fired and struck one of the riders with an arrow. Timmay cast another spell of sleep. A horse, the dismounted rider, and another rider slumped. Of the 2 remaining riders, one had freed his mount and the other leaped from his mount towards Eric. Bernedette moved forward and struck at the man as did Amy and the wolverine. The Zhent ran past them. The only free mounted rider turned his horse about and fled back the way he came.

Thane summoned the magic to control the grass ahead of the rider forcing the horse to veer aside. Right into the path of Bartol. Bartol's sword took the rider from his saddle. Eric fired another arrow at the last fleeing man. The Zhent would soon be clear using the cover of darkness. But he hadn't counted on the cat. Bernedette's familiar, Amy, leapt onto his back and brought him down.


----------



## diaglo

*Which way did he go?*

After a quick search the party was able to recover 6 of the Zhents horses. In the morning, the 5 prisoners were draped over their mounts. The party then set off for Glen with their new cargo.

As they approached Glen, Bartol spurred his horse into a gallop. Glen was surrounded by a wooden palisade. A small watchtower guarded the main entrance. The gate was closed.

"Hello, in the town," He called. "We are friends of Timmay. And we have Zhent prisoners to turn over to the authorities."

A gruff dwarf and a muscular human opened the gate and stepped forward. The rest of the party with the prisoners in tow reached Bartol. Thane and Bernedette both looked angrily his way.

"Timmay, you say?" the Dwarf questioned. "Aye, you may enter. We will take your prisoners only if'n you tell us why they are trussed up so."

Timmay quickly took over for Bartol. The party retired to the inn. A warm, hearty homecoming it was. He spun the tale of their journey and why they were here. He also asked about the Fat Man and if anyone knew Erland. No's all the way around.

The Dwarf at the Gate was a relative of Duergeddin, the Master smith. The sword the party carried was of interest to him. And after a few ales and the exchange of a "finder's fee" he was reunited with his family heirloom. The party also sold him the Warhammer. Overall, the trip to Glen was not a complete bust. Although, they had lost a few days on the Fat Man.

The next morning, Timmay said farewell to his family and the party set off back to Ashabenford, A very uneventful trip.


----------



## diaglo

*War, huh,  what is it good for?*

The party stopped by the Sharin Freehold just to be sure. But the fat man had not been there. All was quiet.

Not so in Ashabenford, the Place was turned upside down. The militia was setting off for Peldan's Helm, 500 strong. Orcs or some such creatures had besieged that town.

The party turned the Zhent horses over to the Riders as a tax break for the old farmers. Maybe when the war was over they would get them back. They also begged off going to war. The army set off without them.

They had other fat fish to fry. The question remained where did he go.

North to the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf and then to the Oakengrove Abbey seemed to be the next logical choices.

At the Golden Sheaf, the rot was ahead of the party. The harvestmasters had contained it to 1 field, but it meant that the Fat Man was 4 days ahead of the party. Thane worried that the Oakengrove may have suffered the same fate.

Bernedette acquired some potions from the Chauntean clerics. Bartol swore he wasn't touching them. No one knew Erland.

At the Druids' Abbey the Fat Man had attempted to enter. But the animal spirits had chased him off. The Oakfather warned Thane about a vision he had concerning him. The vision said that there was a the hint of the Elemental Flame Lord about Thane's person, Karesh or something similar. The Oakfather also did not recognize the name Erland.

The party was invited to stay. The Oakfather had some special private instructions for Thane. Which Bartol and the others were not privvy to. It was the first time the party had ever seen Thane humbled.


----------



## diaglo

*the Dreaded Gazebo. Jester makes a guest appearance.*

As they bedded down the party adopted a new travelling companion. The Oakfather had more than a few visitors. Another adventuring party was staying the night. However, they were reluctant to leave the safety of the Grove.

Pepto, a pimply faced, young halfling girl, had taken a liking to the party. And since the party was setting off for some real adventure. She was more than happy to accompany them.

"My mother always said to be helpful," Pepto told the party. "And it looks like you need my help more than my old companions."

Later that evening Bernedette swore she saw something block out the moon. When she woke the party, everyone else said her imagination was getting the better of her.

Thane led the group out of the Grove and onto the trail of the Fat Man. To Peldan's Helm it seemed. A few hours later, Bartol started to get worried. It appeared to him they were headed the wrong way. So the party adjusted their course. Thane and Bartol each aided the other stay on the trail.

A thick fog rolled in on the second day out. Progress and the trail were abandoned. The party agreed the Fat Man was the one responsible for the siege at Peldan's Helm. He was after all 4 days ahead of them. The fog continued to hamper the party. 

The party came to an old fence line. Bernedette dismounted and moved forward for a look. Ahead she saw 10 figures mulling about in the fog. Suddenly, the figures scattered. A large shape dove from the sky. The party's horses panicked as did Eric, Pepto, Amy, the wolverine, and Thane. Timmay, Bernedette, and Bartol kept their wits.  Maybe. Timmay was thrown from his mount. Bernedette climbed the fence and advanced on the area the figures were last seen standing. The fog was very thick. She heard a loud wet slurpy sound. And then saw a very large shape.

"Foolish girl," Bartol mumbled as he dismounted and tied his horse to the fence. He drew his sword and called out to Bernedette in the fog. "Bernedette, Where are you?"

A shrieking blur of movement went by Bartol.

"Run," Bernedette screamed. "It's a dragon."

Without a second thought, Bartol sprinted after the girl.

Timmay picked himself up and dusted off. He could hear the shouts of his companions.

"NOw what?" the gnome grumbled. The edginess he felt early was gone. Eric, Thane, and Pepto returned to the fence as Bernedette and Bartol arrived.

"It was 40 feet tall and bigger than a barn." Bernedette stammered.

"But we scared it away," Pepto piped in.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Yes, all fear the dread Gazebo.

Soon we will have the story of how the Fat Bastard stole Bernadette's mojo.  Stay tuned!


----------



## diaglo

*Halt. Who goes there?*

Bernedette bolstered by the presence of the whole party calmed down enough to relate her sighting.

The party cautiously crept forward. Everyone tried to stay within sight of another member. The first thing they came upon was a cow, steadily eating some grass. Followed soon after by a large wooden structure, A badly damaged barn. Bartol started to comment on Bernedette's vision when Timmay spoke up.

"From what I've read of Dragons," he began. "We are very lucky. The fear that gripped some of us was not natural."

Bartol soon found the remains of one of the cows.

"Maybe we should bring a few of the remaining cows along with us," Bartol joked. "In case the dragon comes back."

It was getting late, so by concensus the party decided the barn was a safe place to sleep. However, the party doubled the watch.

The fog lifted by morning and the trek resumed. Towards evening a patrol of riders approached.

They wore the colors of the Riders of the Dale. And the party was very happy to run into friendlies.

Pepto made friends with one of the grisly veterans. The old man offered her some of his "medicinal tonic." It was more like hooch. But Pepto didn't seem to mind. Bernedette on the other hand set her belongings a little further away from the Dirty Ol' man.

Timmay, Thane, Eric, and Bartol retold their story to the patrol leader. He offered to escort the party to the main camp. And to give them an introduction to Captain Neylessa Shendean, the leader of the campaign to break the siege at Peldan's Helm.


----------



## Angelsboi

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> *Yes, all fear the dread Gazebo.
> 
> Soon we will have the story of how the Fat Bastard stole Bernadette's mojo.  Stay tuned! *




Yeah, Baby yeah!  Maybe her and Elliard have a shag coming.


----------



## diaglo

*One upmanship*

What greeted the party as they came up over a familiar rise was not good. Besides another burned out caravan, a large host of troops surrounded the Keep. Every few minutes a ball of fire launched from the besiegers at the walls of the Keep. Another friendlier army was camped nearby. The Dalesmen had assembled a couple miles clear of the field. The party continued towards the command tent of the Dalesmen.

The camp was very orderly. Bartol saw Corporal Olaf's hand in the efficiency. But they didn't have time to go search him out.

A familiar woman in metal armor stepped out of the tent to greet the patrol leader. A brief exchange took place.

"Come inside," the woman said as she turned and reentered the tent.

The party dismounted and thanked the patrol, which was resuppling before heading back out. Bartol led the way into the tent.

Inside the woman was examining a rough map of the area. Various marks and figures were placed about the map.

"I'm Captain Shendean," she said. "I know you, don't I?"

"Yes and we you," Bartol answered. Bartol quickly retold of the previous meeting in front of High Councilor Malorn's home. He continued by updating the Captain of what the party knew of the besiegers and their leader.

"We don't know that for sure," both Timmay and Bernedette interrupted.

Bartol ignored them and told of his slaying Goblins, Hobgoblins, Gnolls, Orcs, a Giant and an Owlbear. He also mentioned the Humans behind the scenes in the Caves.

"And we scared off a Dragon," Pepto added with a broad smile.

"Well then you are just the group I need," Captain Shendean commented. "I have a mission set up to disable the enemies artillery."

"Our mission." a before unnoticed haughty elf claimed.

"Redundancy," Captain Shendean continued. "Two groups are better than one. Where 1 of you might fail the other will succeed. Think of it as a competition. I'll pay 200gp for each catapult you destroy. We have only counted two."

"Competition?" the Elf laughed. "From these. Well, after they get themselves killed, we will do their job also and collect the 400gp."

"Dismissed," Captain Shendean finished. "We will come get you when it is time."


----------



## diaglo

*Did anyone get the license plate number of that...*

The party left to get ready for the mission. Some slept, some studied, some sharpened their weapons.

"Bernedette, why don't you get a use out of that cat," Bartol whispered under his breath. "Send her to find out about our elven friend and his associates."

"Fine," Bernedette huffed. "I was trying to study."

Amy ran off to do her master's bidding. Although according to Bernedette, she was a bit upset about it.

The elf had gone into a small tent. Amy snuck under one of the sides. Inside there was the haughty elf, another elf in leather, a human in robes, and a dwarf in armor. There was also another cat, a Tom cat. 

"Meoooooowww," Bernedette cried out. "Get back here."

"You look a bit flushed," Timmay said to Bernedette with a smile.

"I'll be alright in a minute or two," Bernedette blushed and started fanning herself.

Bartol burst out laughing waking the rest of the party. Bernedette got up and went over to the other party's tent. She came back soon enough very angry.

"We are going to wipe the floor with them," she growled. "They have a human arcane caster and a female dwarf. I don't know why dwarves are so hairy."

It was soon time. A group of the Dalesmen led the parties to a spot as near to the enemy as possible.

Orcs, hundreds and hundreds of orcs. Bartol could smell them.

"Send a signal when you have completed your mission," the patrol leader said. "We will launch our attack then."

And with that the elf and his group were off and running. Pepto took the cautious lead for the party, followed by Bartol and Eric. Timmay, Thane, and Bernedette brought up the rear with the wolverine and Amy. Pepto's riding dog, the only mount capable of moving quietly with the group tagged along, too.

At the first signs of a sentry, Pepto signalled everyone to hold position. She moved ahead and pointed out the 2 orc guards. Bartol and Eric drew a line on them with their bows. Pepto tossed a dagger at the nearest one. It sailed off into the night. Before the orcs could react, though, they had arrows sticking out of them. Both fell over quietly.


----------



## Angelsboi

I swear i am so making you a collar and leash !!


----------



## diaglo

*The game is a foot*

Luckily they were the only guards. Two horses near the dead guards wandered off.

The first Catapult was a hundred yards ahead thru open terrain. Pepto led the group along a treeline to the next one. Amy broke off from the group to get a closer look at the first catapult.

Three orcs were loading the catapult. Another 3 were nearby. And two 8 or 10 man tents were visible.  A few hundred yards to the right and left of the catapults were very large bonfires. Many orcs were probably near them. It was going to be tricky.

Pepto started to the far tent for cover. An orc headed to the treeline to relieve himself. He must of spotted Pepto, because he drew his weapon and moved her way. He grunted something. And another turned his way.

Pepto made it to the tent and began to circle around. A guard stood in front of the flap. She swung and missed him. BUt when the orc moved to draw his own weapon he exposed an opening. Pepto didn't miss this time, a gruesome liver shot. Bernedette summoned magic to place a barrier in front of her. 

All heck broke loose. So Timmay stepped forward and commanded one of the alert guards to cry like a little girl. As the tears started to fall Eric advanced and ended the sobbing. Bartol angrily rushed the catapult crew. All he saw was red. Bernedette ran and opened the flap to the nearest tent. She quickly cast another spell to great effect. The 2 orcs inside could not gain their balance as they slipped and fell in a puddle of grease. Thane unleashed a stone from his sling and struck a guard near Pepto. Another guard came out of Pepto's tent.

Pepto killed the new guard with a kidney shot. And Timmay put 2 of the catapult crew to sleep. Eric moved to aid Pepto and killed the other guard. His follow thru swing took 2 of the tent supports down. Bartol and the last guard exchanged blows. Bernedette tried to bring her staff to bear on the 2 clumsy orcs but to no avail. Thane moved in behind Bartol's opponent and finished him off. A great rip was heard as 2 more orcs left Pepto's tent. These were obviously the leaders. One began casting a spell as the other took a swing at Eric. Bartol fell over sound asleep.


----------



## diaglo

*FIreworks...ooo the pretty lights.*

Bartol woke with a start. Thane was shaking him. Lucky for Thane he had a friendly face, as Bartol was still hopping mad. Bartol charged over to the catapult and began hammering away on the big crossbar with his sword.

Pepto and Eric were standing over the orc leaders bodies. Eric looked a lot worse off. Bernedette was still fighting in the tent with the 2 greased orcs. Thane began trussing up the 2 sleeping orcs near the catapult. Timmay was searching the leaders' tent and bodies for vital information.

Bernedette shrieked and stumbled out of the tent. She had a very large gash across her side. The orcs must have finally shaken off the grease. Eric ran to her aid. Pepto moved over to the catapult and began to analyze its moving parts. Bartol took one last swipe at the wooden bar. He gave up and turned to help Bernedette. Thane headed to help Bernedette also. He used some of his magic to seal her wound.

Eric was the first inside the tent. He only made it thru the flap. He squared off against the 2 orcs. Bernedette had slightly injured one of them. Bartol angry that he couldn't get into the battle chopped a support down and made another entrance. A hackfest ensued. Bernedette occassionally fired a bolt of cold magic into the fracas. Luckily she didn't hit either of her friends. Neither side gained an advantage. Until Bartol's fire died down. He found it harder and harder to swing and move. One of the orcs took this opportunity to score a blow. He added another on the next swing. By now he was the lone enemy. Eric had finished the other one. And Bartol bled. But in true warrior fashion he fought on. The orc payed for the injuries he had delivered. Bartol gutted the orc. He had been a worthy opponent in Bartol's mind.

"Here drink this," Pepto said as she handed Bartol a potion. She had deciphered the catapult and rendered it useless.

Too tired to even think he drained the vial. His body mended.

"Thanks," Bartol smiled. "I owe you when this is done."

Bernedette sent a bolt of magic up into the air. A beautiful blue streak of light. Another appeared a moment later from the other catapult. Amy was headed their way. Timmay and Thane had a small sack of items and coins, but not much else.

"Lets get outta here," Timmay commanded.


----------



## diaglo

*TPK?*

Valgrim would have been in his element, the light of the day broke across the field. The army from the Dale charged the orc lines. Without artillery support the best the orcs could do was fire what few bows they had.

The party fled the field towards their designated rendevous point. On the way, a familiar figure, the Fat Chautean Cleric, emerged from a large tent in the orc encampment. Most of the orcs were busy moving to the battle front. However, a dozen or so still lingered nearby.

"Let's get him," the group said as one. They were a couple hundred feet away.

Thane tried to hamper the orcs with a spell that caused the grass to sway and grab. It missed its mark. Only 1 of the creatures was stopped. The cleric and those around him started to react. Bartol as he advanced on the camp struck one of the orcs with an arrow. Timmay, Bernedette, Eric, Pepto, and the animals also hurried forward.

Bartol and Eric fired as they advanced. Bernedette did not. And soon she had outdistanced the group. Amy hung on for dear life. Thane, his wolverine, and Timmay hurried to catch her. Pepto had vanished in the tall grass. But her faithful hound gave her away to the party.

The Fat Man and his minions readied themselves. The Fat Man cast a spell. As did another of the orcs. A couple of them drained potions. Six of the orc guards nearby headed out to meet the party. One was still stuck in the grass. And 2 more were reading heavy crossbows.

Bernedette had advanced too far, too fast. The crossbowmen brought her down. Thane was quickly by her side. Timmay's small feet caused him to lag behind. An opportunity to hit the Cleric presented itself and Bartol struck true. But the Fat Man had plenty of padding and power. He quickly silenced Bartol's movement. Bartol just froze mid stride. Eric slung his bow over his shoulder and drew his sword. Pepto resurfaced. She saw Bernedette go down and ran to her side. The hound followed.

An orc in plate mail threatened Thane. He left a nasty gash in the druid. Thane could do nothing to penetrate the armor. Timmay ran to his party's aid as best he could. The Fat Man had a remarkable mace in his hand and joined the melee. Several of the guards also moved into combat with the party. Eric and the wolverine tried to steer the battle away from Bernedette's helpless form. Bartol continued to watch in stasis. Pepto poured her last healing draught down Bernedette's throat. She awoke.

The crossbowmen fired again. Timmay felt it this time. He nearly swooned. So he quickly downed a potion. Timmay had finally reached the combat. The orc spellflinger tossed some sand into the air. Everyone fought off the spells effect. The orc in plate turned his attention on Eric. But Eric's armor was tough. Thane whacked the orc warrior, as did Eric. The Fat Man grazed Eric. The orc guards couldn't hit the wolverine. Bartol still remained frozen. Pepto tumbled into the combat. She struck the warrior in plate. The warrior was very injured. Bernedette tried a spell on the warrior. He was not harmed. The orc stuck in the grass turned and moved further into the area of effect. He intent was not clear. But a tent was in the middle of the area. Perhaps, reinforcements or stronger weapons were inside.

So after the first few moments of combat. The party had slightly injured the Fat Man, badly injured an orc warrior, and bearly injured one of the guards. There were still 10 orc guards, the Fat Man, an Orc Spellcaster, and the orc warrior standing. The party had 1 uninjured Halfling, the animals, a revived Bernedette, a revived Timmay, a wounded Eric, a badly wounded Thane, and a frozen Bartol. And one orc was heading for possible reinforcements. So far all of the party's magic had failed to produce its desired effect.


----------



## diaglo

*Victory*

The orc warrior moved away from combat and downed a potion. His tribesmen occupied Thane, Pepto, and Eric's attentions. Thane was struck and fell. Timmay's magic caused the proud warrior to cry. The Fat Man also cast a spell. The area around Bernedette was suddenly very quiet. Eric brought one of the orcs to his knees. His follow thru strike was uneffective. Bartol regained the use of his limbs. He quickly fired an arrow into one of the crossbowmen. Although it didn't kill the orc, the impact was enough to cause it to pass out. He advanced and slung his bow. Bernedette, not knowing if she had lost her hearing or was indeed under a spell, closed on the Fat Man. The orc spellflinger was also now in the area of effect. The caster moved to get clear of the spell. Unfortunately, Pepto's dog took a bite out of the caster's hide. Pepto tumbled for a strike on the orc warrior. But his armor protected him from the lady halfling's blade. The orc in the grass was stuck again.

The sobbing orc warrior moved back into the melee. He was almost healthy again. His attack was errant. The crossbowman missed. The remaining orcs ignored Thane and took swings at Pepto, Eric, and wolverine, all for naught. Timmay closed to Thane's side and used another potion. He now had only one left. The Fat Man, feeling the effects of his own magic used against him, struck Bernedette as he fled. Bernedette passed out. He was struck by the halfling as he ran past. The orc spellcaster manuevered defensively enough to hit the dog with a bolt of magic. The dog retaliated. The caster was down. Eric and the wolverine attacked the orc warrior with gusto. But he remained standing. Well long enough for Pepto to finish him. Bartol drew his sword and ran one of the orcs thru on his way after the Fat Man. Amy gave chase. The orc in the grass broke free again. He traveled closer to the tent.


The Fat Man ran past the last orc crossbowman. The crossbowman was reloading his heavy crossbow. The 5 other orc warriors battled fought on. They drew blood from Pepto and Eric, but missed the wolverine. Eric, Thane, Pepto and the wolverine made short work of the orcs. Well Eric mainly, his sword seemed to move almost unhindered thru the orcs armor. Timmay fired a crossbow bolt into the fleeing Fat Man's back. The Chauntean cleric was feeling the effects of his injuries. Amy ran under the crossbowman's legs and closed on the escaping cleric.  The Fat Man spun around and flattened the cat with his mace. Bernedette's body shuddered. Bartol lopped the crossbowman's head off just as the orc finished loading his crossbow. The Fat Man and 1 stuck orc were all that remained of the party's opposition. And it looked like the Fat Man would almost be in the clear. Then Pepto's dog appeared. He grabbed the cleric by the throat and ravaged him. That left orc in the grass, he was almost to the tent.

Pepto pulled up short of the flailing grass. She hurled a dagger, but it was too short of the orc. Bartol bent down and picked up the loaded heavy crossbow.

"Surrender," Bartol yelled. No response from the orc. So he fired. Crossbows weren't his thing.

The others began the gruesome task of searching the bodies. Timmay hurried over to Amy. And using the last of the potions revived the cat. A second or two more and she would've been a goner. Bartol flung the useless crossbow and drew his bow. He casually pulled back and let fly and arrow. It caught the orc in the throat as it was opening the tent flap.


----------



## diaglo

*Followup*

As the last orc fell with Bartol's arrow in his throat, the party moved rapidly to search the orc camp and depart before any reinforcements could arrive.

The large tent was obviously the planning tent for the army's leaders.  Besides bedrolls and some personal belongings, it had a map of the area around Peldan's Helm showing the Caves and the disposition of the Orc troops.  A chest in one corner was found to be filled with gold and silver coins, a large emerald, a finely crafted necklace, and a vial and collection of exquisite arrows that radiated magic.  A spellbook was also found buried at the bottom of one of the packs.

Searching the remaining three tents revealed that one was empty, though a number of orcs had beded down there recently.  A second was filled with fine foodstuff, wine, ale, good cheeses, and a cache of arrows, bolts, and normal hand weapons -- not orc make, and likely raided from the Ashabenford supply caravans.  The third tent contained two enourmous Worgs that were chained to a great spike set in the ground.  Pepto and Thane burned the tent to the ground without a second thought, Worgs and all.

The bodies of the dead yielded additional coins, a number of finely crafted weapons, and some expended potion vials and scrolls.  The body of the Fat Bastard yielded other interesting clues: a divine scroll, a ring that radiated magic, and a note.

Timmay read the note aloud:

"Jozam - 

Despite the havoc I'm sure you have caused with the grain stores of the Dale, we need a greater distraction to keep the locals busy until our project is complete.  I'm sending the orcs with reinforcements to keep Peldan's Helm and the Riders busy for a time until our work is finished.  Ensure that fool B'nyaguul holds their attention for at least two tendays before you let his band break up.  Make a few examples to keep them in line.  I await the report of your success at the caves.

Erlend"

After the signature is a mark which resembled a stylized hand with a fanged mouth in the palm.


----------



## diaglo

*And so it goes*

As the party finished looting the remains of the orc camp, they could see in the distance the battle being fought in the vale below Peldan's Helm.  

The Mistledale militia advanced to meet the orc infantry; spears and shields clashing with orc-wielded swords.  Archers on both sides poored arrow after arrow into the closely packed ranks, though the Dalesmen with their advantage in numbers were slowly gaining the upper hand.  Suddenly, a horn call range out, and the center of the Dales formation parted, as a company of sixty Riders in black-enameled plate crashed into the center of the orc formation.  

With no leadership to steady them -- the great orc leader and his advisors having mysteriously failed to arrive when the battle was joined -- the orcs held briefly, but soon gave way before the Riders' onslaught.  The orc horde panicked, broke, and then ran before the onrushing lances of the Riders.

Within minutes it was over, surviving orcs throwing down weapons and running for the woods and freedom.  The Riders rode down many, and companies of spearmen and archers captured or killed many of the survivors.  By noon no orc could be found on the fields save the bound or the dead.

Two companies of adventurers walked wearily into the army's camp that afternoon, tired, bleeding, but victorious.  

Neylessa Shendean met them outside the command tent, a bandage on one arm and a rent in her armor.

"Well met," she said solemnly.  "Chauntea be praised; you have succeeded.  We began the attack at the second flare, and it was hard fought but swift.  The orcs seemed confused, demoralized somehow.  Fifty good Dalesmen will not see the sun set this day, but it is a victory.  I trust Peldan's Helm will be safe from orcs for a season or more yet."

The companies relate their stories.  Neylessa nods, her eyes distant.  "You did well to kill their leaders -- likely that made the difference between fifty graves and two hundred.  Here is your pay," handing over a heavy bag, " yet we have more to thank you for.  Now is not yet the time.  We still hunt the stragglers.  On the morrow we will police the battlefield and build a pyre for our dead, but the day after we will hold a tournament and a feast to honor our victory.  I hope that you will partake in the tourney, and demonstrate your skill of arms, then join me at my table for the feast.  There is yet more we could do for your valor."

She waves a farewell.  "Your friends in Peldan's Helm have survived.  They are thinner, perhaps, but that is easily solved.  If you would lead these supply wagons here up to the keep, I'm certain you will be well received.  Farewell for now."

The adventurers take their leave, one party silently repairing to a tent to nurse their wounds; the other gathers horses and wagons and leads them across blood-reddened fields to the now-open gates of Peldan's Helm.

Inside the streets are rubble-strewn and fire blackened.  The roof of the stable has burned, and here and there is a broken window or shattered doorpost.  By and large, however, the keep weathered the storm well.

The populace looks gaunt, but happy to be liberated.  There is a "Huzzah" and general acclaim as their heroes led the desperately needed supply wagons into the burned-pout stable yard, and the hungry citizens and remaining guards quickly unload.

"Tha' was a brave bit o' fightin' " says Wilf the taverner, "but we'd o' expected tha' of our heroes.  I'd be honored iffn' ye'd stay the week with me, free o' charge.  Everyone'll be visitin', wantin' t' here yer stories."


----------



## diaglo

*who gets what...*

Bartol visited the remains of the common room. The rest of the party was there divving up the loot: 660 sp, 475 gp, 3 vials of alchemist's fire, Golden belt buckle, Ruby pendant, Gold filigreed necklace, An emerald, 3 unidentified potion vials, A divine scroll, An unidentified magic ring, Four unidentified magic arrows, An arcane spellbook, Masterwork Mace with the Master Dwarven Smith's mark (the one the Fat Man used), Masterwork Battle axe, Masterwork Hand Axe, Masterwork Longsword, Suit of normal, and a human-sized Plate Armor.


Bernedette will look to the group. "Is there anyway i could ...use the longsword? I think maybe Corellion would want it that way." Bernedette also made claims to the ring. She had to identify its powers first, though.

Bartol shyly agrees, "Fair enough. You teach me to read and I'll teach you how to swing that small piece of metal proper." Bartol grabbed the arrows.

Timmay tallied the totals. He handed coin to everyone. Bartol gave 30gp of his share to Pepto. Timmay also handed Pepto the fine Hand axe. Timmay held onto the Orc's spellbook.

"Wow, thanks," says Pepto. "My mom always said that when someone does something nice for you you should try to repay them, but most of the time big folks never do. I guess they generally think they can take advantage of us cause we're smaller. I bet those orcs and the fat man learned better, huh?" Scratches the dog under the chin. "That's right, good doggie!"


"Aside from returning the mace to Glen," Timmay began, "and finding out about the potions, I say with sell the rest and split the profits."

Everyone agreed. Bartol was already enjoying his drink. He began asking Wilf about the other residents of the Helm.

Jadaile the captain, Sabine a guard, Charl a guard, Laurl another guard, Tella the stable girl, Ol'Tarlach the fisherman, Quince the tailor, Jocelyn the tanner, Hobbin the carpenter, Asham the cooper, Naramis, their kids, Rafe the Smith, his mother, Dara his wife, the kids, Moseley the Merchant, Mouse the halfling, Brother Martin, Abercrombie the priest, Fitch, Ellier the Advisor
Reese the Jeweler, Reese the Cobbler, and our Lady the Castellan, and Marcus of Tyr.


Charl was killed during the first attack on the gate; Sabine and Fitch were both wounded; Reece the Cobbler had his roof burned; a few other guards got killed, and the smith is low on bolts & arrows, and has a lot of work to do repairing weapons and armor. 

Ellier survived. Both Bernedette and Timmay perked up to this news. They left to go find him.

Conversation soon turned to the competition coming up. There were many events scheduled.

Thane believed that the party should all be in the "team competition". He thought they could really compete and do well. And the party would get to use their spells. On the other hand, he wasn't interested in any of the other events. But he might observe and mingle and spend some time off in the woods, meditating and having some discussions with K'shergh, the wolverine.

Pepto pops a zit. "Ooh, my mom always told me that it's better to work together than to always try to do things on your own! I'm in for the team competition."


----------



## diaglo

*From Timmay's perspective*

As the sounds of battle began to die out, Timmay scanned the corpse-littered field for signs of any remaining threat.  With most of his magic spent, the gnome would be resigned to using what cantrips he had left and then his readed crossbow should circumstances require such vulgar means.  But the battle was over and won; Jozam's body and those of his orcish retinue were strewn all about and the party reflexively began to search and strip their fallen foes.  This was a custom that they'd had great practice in and went swiftly, with Timmay making a thorough catalogue of the coin and items retrieved while Bartol and Erik split the heaviest loads amongst them.  Tim cradled the orcish adept's worn tome under his arm as the collected party surveyed the Riders' charge into the distant vale, a great wave that crashed into and consumed the monstrous ranks. 

Back in the company of Neylessa that afternoon the party shared their exploits and received the promised bounty before making way to the opened gates of Peldan's Helm.  Timmay was glad to see that damage from the siege was minimal and with their supplies delivered the group made way to Wilf's for their well-deserved rest.  An impish smile plays upon the gnome's lips as the taverner reminds them of the tales they'll be expected to share.  That night as Bernedette busies herself with their newly-acquired spellbook, Tim pores over the remaining resources they'd come by in their expedition and sets about making a fair distribution. 

The group agreed to pay Pepto for her services with the fine hand axe recovered from their defeated foes.  Bartol would find use for the arrows pending their identification, the scroll and alchemist's fire clearly meant for Thane, and Erik would presumably stake claim over the recovered platemail.  Timmay was at first surprised at Bernedette's reluctance to accept the payment offered for her potion, but the motive of her generousity quickly grew clear. 

"So far as the ring, we must first determine its properties and who would benefit most by its use."  If Bartol would teach Bernedette to use the fine elven blade she desired then that would be of no consequence to Timmay.  After all, it would not be Tim's money spent on the potions or scrolls to revive Bernedette when inevitably felled in an attempt at melee. 

The next morning Timmay went along with Bernedette into the Helm's inner keep to see Eliar, the elven castellan and, as the jokes went, far more to the human girl.  When Bernedette rushed forward to embrace the elder mage Tim somehow found the strength of will not to laugh or grin. 

"Timmay Scheppen of the township Glen," he introduced himself, "and a wizard of some circles' worth."  Timmay allowed his gaze to wander about the castellan's chamber as he and Bernedette exchanged words.  All the while he cradled the thick orcish tome beneath his arm, wondering if the elf would be so generous with him as with the young woman.  When finally asked about their business Tim brings his gaze up to bear. 

"Your lordship, Bernedette explained to me that you had assisted her in the scribing of a summoning spell.  I have in my possession a scroll of illusion, an heirloom, and I am now possessed of the knowledge and inclination to scribe it into my own spellbook.  I'm of mind to use this spell to entertain our friends of the Helm and the courageous Riders that have delivered it from danger during the tournament tomorrow.  That is my pressing business, as it will take me working throughout the night and morning to have the spell prepared in time.  Our adventuring on behalf of the Helm has not afforded me the chance to stock necessary materials, however."  

Now Timmay holds up the worn volume that he had entered with. 

"But I do not come as a beggar," he continues, now wearing a smile.  "We recovered this spellbook from an orcish adept.  Bernedette spent some time studying it last night and there might be spells or lore of interest to you within."  Timmay casts a sideward glance to Bernedette and then extends the tome towards Eliard.  If she had any plans for scribing before the tournament now would be the time and place to announce them. 

"Bernedette is right about more trouble.  The 'Priest of Chauntea' she speaks of, the fake pilgrim, was indeed a priest but rather one of Bane, so we believe.  And he is not the Erlend that I asked you of before."  As the gnome speaks he shrugs off his pack and recovers Erlend's note in case Eliar wishes to see.  "Jozam, the priest, was instructed to siege Peldan's Helm only as a distraction while Erlend waited at the caves we'd discovered and completed a project.  We can assume that word of Jozam's failure has reached Erlend and that he has hastened his plans.  There is perhaps a tenday or more before Erlend makes his move. 

"Tomorrow should remain a time for celebration, but the days after must be spent in preparation by Peldan's Helm, the Riders, and all good people of the Dale for whatever foulness this Erlend has planned.  I have my suspicions that he's in league with the Zhentarim..."  Timmay goes on to relate their encounter with the bandits.  

"I myself am at the cusp of a breakthrough in my research but require a proper laboratory to finish; mud and rain are not very conductive to our studies," he added with a soft chuckle.  "I am sure that each member of my party has their own mind on how to spend this time, but to prepare myself to defend the Helm once again I humbly request your cooperation in this research.  I will gladly share with you any progress made and my adventures have afforded me a sum of gold to recompense you for the materials spent, as you see fit." 

He drew silent to watch the shrewd elven magus weigh the debts within his mind's eye.  When it seemed as though Eliar had gotten a fair grasp of the proposal Timmay added one final afterthought. 

"Your patience is admirable but we mustn't forget that Bernedette does not enjoy the elvish luxury of time," speaking of the lost temple.  "It is my sincere desire to help her and your people in this quest.  When Mistledale sees the end of Erlend's threat I'll give my word to see Bernedette to the temple so that it might be reclaimed for all Corellon's people."  

Having played all of his cards Timmay now resigned himself to awaiting Eliar's answer.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Almost up to date! (You could post Eliar's respone to Timmay & Bernadette).

It was quite a fight at the orc encampment.  A few well-placed healing potions really turned the tide for the adventurers.

Extra credit for those who identify the palm-with-fanged-mouth!

(snicker - snicker)


----------



## Badger

*Could it be...*possible spoiler**

Great tale so far guys...

As for the bonus, could it be Moander???

*hoping I've not ruined it*

Look foward to all the future updates...

Badger


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Muahahahaha.


----------



## diaglo

*A blurring of storylines: Timmay, Bernedette, and Eliar*

"Elliard!! " Bernedette blurted, "I was extremely worried when we found out the keep was under siege.  I have both good and bad news.  The good news is now the priest of Chauntea is dead, it frees some stuff up for us to do.  Bad news is, something bad is going to happen in two tendays.  I dont think the group will want to go search for the temple, im afraid.  Unless, i can find it before that time period is up."

She looked at him with eyes that were sad.  "I want to help you and discover the secrets of Corellion myself.  I've been praying to him and i feel he has been by my side.  I brought Timmay with me because he had some things he wanted to ask you.  By the way, how has the Summoning spell worked?"

"Corellon be praised!  It is good to see you again, child." Eliar responded.  "And well met to your companion, whom I suspect is a mage of no small water!  We observed a great battle among the orc catapults from the battlements.  I feared that perhaps you had been lost.  Luckily, the orcs, animals that they are, never found a way into our keep.  I spent most of my time putting out the fires that their catapults lobbed over the walls, and dodging arrows on the battlements."

He motioned for the two adventurers to have a seat in his study, which is rather messier than the last time Bernadette visited.  The suit of fine chain that hangs against one wall is smoke-blackened and has obviously seen recent use.

"I never put the summoning to use, I'm afraid, as I was saving that in case the beasts broke in.  Merbieren asked that I put my arcane skills to work helping the people of the Helm, and that I did."

He paused briefly in reflection, then continued.

"I am glad to hear you believe Corellon is with you.  There are many that would take offense at a human worshiping the Protector, but we have for so long fought the long retreat, and I think it is time that his teachings received a wider audience.  Though you must realize I am no priest, and that, having lived much of my life with the humans of the Dale, many of my fellows feel I'm corrupted by your, *ahem* "short-sighted" worldview.  Fear not about the shrine.  It has been lost for a mere 200 years, but half my lifetime.  A few weeks or months or even years are of little note.  There is time yet."

He began to putter about, tidying up.

"But is there some reason you come to visit, so soon after the battle?  We have much to do here to put things right, and I am weary after a tenday of siege."

"I wont have time to truly make what i would like," Bernedette added, "and as much as id like to scibe into my own spellbook, i think i will just keep reading this and see if i can try to read his notes and prepare them from his notes for a while. After all, we dont have much time in this matter."

She looked at Timmay and Elliar. "He's right about the time issue. You have been around hundreds of years. I, only 16. As soon as this is done, we will seek the temple out. Corellion has more for me to learn before i go there i imagine."

She turned to Timmay. "We need to also head back to Ashabenford with the body of the priest. As proof to the Master Harvester and to the Table of the Bountiful Harvest. She said we would be rewarded. Maybe we could get some more healing potions."

Ellier also turned to Timmay. "Ah, fellow seeker of knowledge!  I am sad to say that the recent calamity has deprived me of much of the ingredients I use for my own magical research, and I await another delivery of supplies.  Let me take stock."  He pauses to examine what is left of the special papers, quills, and inks on his workbench.  "Ah, I have but little supply, but it shall suffice, I think.  You would be prepared to share what you have found in the tome with me?  May I examine it?"

The elven mage cast a minor incantation, then lowered his head to examine the profferred spellbook. "The great disc spell of the archmage Tenser!  Would that I had had this a tenday ago, so I had not strained my back so hauling buckets of water!  Hmmm.  Others of these I have equivalents for, or no use.  Though the ability to create a magical ward here will be of use to the Castellan, no doubt."

"I also appreciate your concern for my people.  Wise as your people are in the ways of the arcane, they have seldom offered to help the elves out of mere friendship.  Very well.  You have done a great service to the Helm, and I owe a service in return.  For the spells of which I spoke, should you allow me to copy them from this tome, I shall give each of you a gift of quills, inks, and parchment sufficient to scribe one equivalent magick.  Timmay, for your offer of help, and a share in the fruits of your research, I shall offer you the materials to complete your research, for the sum of, say, 500 gold talents, or the equivalent in gems or goods?  I would do more, but that sorely depletes my stock of magical implements.  I would part with more, but it is dear to me -- I would ask that you share 200 talents per spellbook page of materials, and I have but eight pages worth to spare.  What say you?"


----------



## diaglo

*Put your game face on*

The day before the tournament flew by quickly. Bernedette and Timmay spent their time with Ellier. Eric and Pepto wandered off on business of their own. Thane went to meditate outside the walls of the place. Bartol busied himself with preparations for the tournament. Rafe tacked a makeshift gauntlet image on Bartol's buckler. And Bartol got Quince the tailor to fashion him a surcoat.

The day of the tournament everyone got up early. Wilf was anxious to get to the grounds. So he tossed everyone out after a quick breakfast. Timmay, Bernedette, and Ellier strolled together. Thane met the group there. Bartol rode in on his mount. Nothing out of place. His coat of arms and crest prominently displayed. Torm would smile on him.

Ellier led them to Nelyssa's tent. It looked like old home week in Cormanthor. Crestor the Battle Mage, an elf older even than Ellier, was speaking with 2 other elves and Nelyssa. High Muul and his party were there also. One of the younger elves spoke with a very nasally whistle. He was very bubbly, too. He introduced himself as Evion. The other young elf was Alrissian, a ranger. Bernedette perked up. It was obvious that Marcus of Tyr and Ellier had been forgot.

Bernedette and Timmay haggled a little with Crestor over exchanges of magic. High Muul interrupted the conversation often. Bartol was starting to very much dislike the elf. The other party members were also upset.

"I'll wager your coat of mail," Thane began, "that we defeat you today in the tournament."

"And what do I win," High Muul retorted.

"How about this?" Bernedette said as she drew the elven longsword.

"Done." High Muul agreed."It is going to be a pleasure showing you how to respect your betters."

Nelyssa anounced the start of the games. Archery was the first event.


----------



## diaglo

*I shot an arrow into the air*

Evion, Bartol, Alrissian, High Muul, Timmay, and a few of the locals entered the event.

"High Ball," Bartol bellowed. "I've got some coins here that say I best you."

"I'll take that wager," High Muul replied. "Do you have 5 gps Barbarian?"

"Put your money where your mouth is," Bartol steamed. "Make it a platinum."

The event required the contestants to shoot 10 arrows at 60 feet. They were scored on where they struck the targets. After the first three shots, the crowd soon could see who were the better archers.

Bartol split one of his arrows with another. He was followed closely by Evion, High Muul, and Alrissian.

Another volley of three, Evion was closing on Bartol's lead. Alrissian and High Muul were dead even.

And then another volley of three, Bartol was still in the lead.

But the last arrow cost him. Evion edged him. Alrissian beat High Muul for third place.

In a brief ceremony Nelyssa presented Evion with a handful of magical arrows. Bartol won 15gp. And Alrissian won 10gp.

"I'm getting drunk tonight," Bartol said.

"Here," High Muul offered as he handed Bartol his coin.

"The joust is next," a crier shouted.

"I'm so there," Bartol grinned.

"I'll join you," Alrissian added.

"I don't suppose I could convince you," Bartol asked,"to join us in the team competition. Our gnome friend is not up for it. He says it will interfere with his magic show."

"Why certainly," ALrissian agreed.

Bernedette blushed.


----------



## Angelsboi

She is Not a slut!!!  She doesnt like Elliar in that way!!


----------



## diaglo

*To the list*

Of course, the jousting competition was full of the Riders. Alrissian and Bartol were the only adventurers to join the list. A few of the locals also signed up.

Bernedette, Timmay, and Thane were off preparing for other events.

This was the competition Bartol had most wanted to join. To be like his Father and to gain the attention and respect of the Riders was his true intent. He drew a young lad of sixteen mounted on a plow horse as his first opponent. The youth had a makeshift shield and borrowed patchwork armor. The officials provided blunted lances for all of the competitors.

The rules were simple. Three passes. One point for each touch of your opponent. Three points if they fell. The one with the most points advanced.

Bartol knelt and said a quick, but heartfelt prayer to Torm. He then mounted. He and the farmer were the first up.

Whether it was nervousness or fear of unleashing his anger, Bartol never did settle his stomach. After the first 2 passes neither rider connected. On the third pass the farmboy planted his lance square into Bartol's chest. Down went Bartol laughing.

"Good shot," Bartol congratulated the  youth. But it meant Bartol was out of the competition. Maybe next time. He curried his horse and gave him an apple, before returning to the crowd.

Alrissian and his opponent tied. Both advanced due to another rider's horse coming up lame. Nelyssa's Lieutenant was easily handling his opponents. He was also decked out in full plate armor and riding a wonderful warhorse.

Wilf and his wife wandered among the crowd. The competition continued.

"Peanuts, Bangers," Wilf hawked. "Ale"

"Wolf," Bartol bellowed. "An ale." Bartol handed him some coins. "Keep 'em coming."

"Typical," High Muul sneered. "I don't suppose, you still have my coin. Are there any in the list, you would care to select?"

"Sure," Bartol mused. "I like Alrissian to win."

ALrissian won again and again. And so therefore did Bartol. This placed Alrissian in the final against the Lt.

"Double or nothing," Bartol beamed. Maybe losing early was a good thing.

Alrissian scored a hit on the Lt. He also deftly ducked the Lt's lance. On the second pass both riders struck home. Neither fell. The last pass was unsuccessful for both. Alrissian won and so did Bartol. Alrissian's prize was a Warhorse with military saddle. The Lt. bowed to ALrissian.

"Well done," he said,"Sir elf."

"Up next," a crier called. "Individual melee."


----------



## diaglo

*Midget Mage Wrestling*

The rules of the competition were again very simple. Nonlethal combat only. Blunted or padded weapons. No spells.

Bartol and Thane talked strategy for the Team event. Thane cast a spell on Bartol and himself. Spells were allowed for the team competition. It was something Bartol had never seen before, a covering of magic that acted like armor. Bartol was a little skeptical considering he already had a Chain shirt.

High Muul and his cronies were also busy.

The first in the ring were Timmay and Bernedette. Although Bernedette was weak by most human standards she did have a slight edge on the little guy. WHich soon became apparent. They slugged it out. Toe to knee. Neither got close enough to grab the other. But Bernedette landed a couple overhand shots that TKO'd the gnome.

Alrissian took a different stance. He used his bow with arrows that lacked a point. As his opponent set his weapon to anticipate Alrissian's advance. The bowman landed a couple well placed shots. Stunning and then downing the confused man.

Bernedette met a warrior with a padded mace in the second round. Thump, thump. Nighty night.

Alrissian advanced again and again.

In the final he met a dual weapon-wielding fellow ranger. Alrissian couldn't escape the man. One, two, one, two and it was over. He did, however, win some more gold talents.

"Team event," the crier called. "Only 2 teams have entered. The Heroes of Peldan's Helm and The High Company."


----------



## diaglo

*Eric's Grandmother WARNING*

Timmay sat in the grand stand with Amy, Nelyssa, Crestor, and Eliar. Bartol, Thane, Alrissian, and Bernedette entered the ring from the left.; High Muul, Carl the Human mage, the Other Elf (who turned out to be female), and the female armored dwarf from the right.

Thane cast another spell on Bartol. And Bernedette highlighted Torm's symbol with another spell. 

"This will remove injuries from you as the combat continues," Thane began, "High Ball says you are a poor excuse for a Rider's son." Thane egged Bartol on. 

Thane also cast another magical armor spell on Alrissian. Bernedette did something similar for herself. A large magical barrier appeared in front of her. She also sprouted wings.

"Begin," Crestor announced.

Bartol was the first to act. His temper took control of his actions. He charged across the field and bashed High Muul. If someone hadn't blunted his sword, Bartol may very well have killed the elf. The lady elf tumbled past and tried to strike Bartol from behind. She was shocked by Bartol's uncanny reactions. High Muul recovered enough to land a blow. Thane moved into melee with the elf woman. A wooden cudgel can do wonders. He had her full attention. Bernedette took to the air. Carl cast a string of spidery webs up at the young girl. She avoided the mess. Alrissian fired 2 quick pointless arrows at the armored dwarf maiden. Neither penetrated her heavy metal. She in return summoned some divine magic. She directed it at Bartol. He was uneffected.

"I'll teach you to talk bad about me," Bartol raged. He again hammered on High Muul. And moved a little to the side so all the combatants were in front of him. The lady elf landed a glancing blow to Thane instead. High Muul must have been reeling from the blows Bartol landed, b/c he couldn't come close with his swing. Thane laid the elf maiden out cold with another shot from his cudgel. He then moved behind Alrissian. Bernedette greased the area around Carl. Carl moved aside and cast another strand of spider silk at Bernedette. Although not a graceful flyer, Bernedette did manage to avoid the spell. Alrissian fired another volley of arrows at the dwarf. One struck her, one missed. She called on more divine magic. The area around Bernedette was quiet. The dwarf also edged closer to the melee.

Bartol swung too high as High Muul ducked under a blow that would have knocked him out of the competition. High Muul moved behind the dwarf and downed a potion. Thane mumbled something under his breath. A fog rolled in around him. The entire ring was obscured. Bernedette flew to the dwarf. Now neither could cast spells. Carl readied his staff. Alrissian moved forward but couldn't see the dwarf. He shot in the general area she had been standing. The dwarf moved closer into the fog.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Timmay went down like Bernedette in an elven village.  

Nelyssa had to react quickly. She pulled the crossbow bolt free of the Gnome's chest and laid her hands on him.  

Timmay still lived. But he was also poisoned. Amy sent a message to Bernedette.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

> Timmay went down like Bernedette in an elven village.




ROFLMAO!

Of course, Timmay didn't think it so funny at the time, having been sneak attacked to -8 HP with a poisoned heavy crossbow bolt.  Luckily there was a paladin standing right next to him.


----------



## Angelsboi

I gave them permissionto use that line.  David (Timmay) told me that and i couldnt quit laughing!


----------



## diaglo

*unfinished business*

Bartol attempted to find Carl. It looked like Thane and Alrissian could handle the dwarf. And the mist hid High Muul from view. A figure streaked past on Bartol's right. He swung at it. It was High Muul. The elf responded with a miss of his own. Thane and the mist moved closer to the stands. Bernedette responded to Amy. She hovered over the mist and tried to get Crestor's attention. The silence around her made it hard for him to understand. She frantically waved her arms and hands. Carl now outside the mist struck the figure on the edge of it with his staff, Bartol. Alrissian crept forward and fired an arrow at a low figure. It struck the dwarf. She advanced and missed the ranger.

"Fool mage," Bartol screamed as his sword came into view. He landed a solid blow. Carl was out of the fight. High Muul missed again. Thane backed further away from the melee. The whole grand stand was now engulfed in the mist. Bernedette now completely frustrated sped away from Crestor.

"Stop the competition," Crestor bellowed. "Guards, secure the area."

Alrissian and the dwarf lowered their weapons. Bartol still fumed.

"You were mine," Bartol yelled in High Muul's direction."We should've won."

"I don't know what you are talking about," High Muul responded. "I barely have a bruise on me."

Eventually the mist cleared. The Rider Lt. from the jousting competition and some of his men were earnestly trying to figure out who the intended target was. They suspected Timmay was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nelyssa, Ellier, Crestor or the Castellan were more important.

Bernedette and Timmay convinced them to continue the tournament. It wouldn't be good for morale if they let this incident stop the festivities. The poison had run its course and left Timmay very weak.

"Next up," the crier called,"King's Squares."


----------



## diaglo

*Battle Chess*

The weakened Timmay, Bernedette, and Bartol entered the event. The recovered Carl did too; although, he had a rather large knot on his head. Crestor and Ellier both begged off joining the competition. Bernedette was slightly heartbroken.

Timmay wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Whew,” he exclaimed. “I thought Bernedette was gonna cost us by being polite.”

A couple older farmers, obviously veterans of the game, a guardsman, Evion, and another spellcaster filled out the ranks. The other spellcaster was named Serten. He had an almost palatable air of immunity to him. He was also very quick witted.

The object of the game was to capture the opponent’s King. You had a variety of pieces with varying moves at your disposal. The number of turns it took to accomplish your goal was important. More points were earned for faster victories. The first one to 20 points won the match. Bartol faced Carl in the first round. Because of the earlier threat to Timmay, Bartol placed his sword in easy reach by his side at the table.

Bartol tried for common moves. Tried and true victories he had won against his cousins in similar games. Carl was slightly better. It was a long match. Even though, Bartol won a game and tied another, it wasn’t enough to stop Carl.

“I guess,” Bartol said when it was over, “you got to thump me back.”

Bernedette and Timmay advanced as well. Evion did not.

Timmay faced Carl next. Bernedette had one of the old farmers. Serten was resting after finishing off both his first and second round opponents. Unfortunately, Timmay was still too distracted by his injuries. His lack of strength was a constant reminder of the wound he had received. Bernedette coasted.

Serten faced the other old farmer. Bernedette had Carl. Serten’s match was over early. Bernedette and Carl waged a war of wills. First one would win and then the other. They tied often. In a careless move Carl exposed his King. Bernedette took advantage for the win.

The final was not so lucky or challenging. Serten made the fewest moves possible. The match was over in one game. Bernedette was stunned.

“A break is in order,” Crestor announced. “Please everyone try some of the wares from the vendors or try your luck at the Wheel.”


----------



## diaglo

*Round and round it goes...where it stops*

The vendors had many interesting items for sale.  Bartol stocked up on spirits and trinkets.  He bought a piece of muskrat on a stick to answer his belly’s grumbles.  Bernedette found a place at the Wheel. High Muul was already there. Thane too warmed a seat. Timmay went to practice for the performance competition. Alrissian acted as his guard.

A game of chance with cards was another way to win or lose. The elf maiden from the High Company was winning too often. Bartol watched her closely. She was skimming cards off the bottom of the deck. But she was very fast and very good at it. 

“You cheat,” Bartol accused.

No one else noticed. She flashed a big smile and exposed a little more flesh and none seemed to care. She did however collect her winnings and leave the table.

“I must prepare for my performance,” she said as she exited.

The Wheel of fortunes, the largest draw at the gambling tent,  was easy enough to understand, but harder to win.  Twenty slots spun. Entrants could bet on any of the individual numbers or on the trends, odds or evens. Ten gold talents was the maximum bid, 1 copper penny the minimum.

Bartol bet odds. Thane bet evens. High Muul and Bernedette scattered the field.

“Lets spice it up, shall we, High Ball?” Bartol enticed High Muul. “Platinum says I win.”

“Done,” High Muul replied. “I hate taking your money. It isn’t even a challenge. But someone must teach you a lesson.”

The bets went back and forth. The parties killed time until the performance competition was ready. Bartol ended up 4 platinum ahead. Everyone else lost coins.

Bernedette tired of losing and frustrated by the team competition’s early end, leaned over to High Muul.

“I have 10 platinum and 40 gold talents,” she stated. ”That says we will win the talent competition.”

“Oh, little girl,” High Muul answered, “You know not of what you speak. I’ll take your bet. My money’s on Rachel”

“Next event,” the crier called, “the talent competition.”


----------



## diaglo

*Here's Johnny...*

“Well it appears,” Bernedette remarked to High Muul, “we have 3 entries to your 1. So I’ll place my wager on Timmay.”

“Whatever,” High Muul laughed, “you wish. I only need the 1.”

The first performer was a young man and his blade. He did a dance. Although very entertaining, Bartol thought it looked to risky for real combat. Timmay was the next up. The party scattered as plants throughout the crowd. Timmay told the tale of how the party had ventured to the Caves of Chaos. He used several spells to add flavor. Bartol  thought he must have missed something for the crowd was not overly impressed.

A rank amateur farmboy told a few off color jokes. He was booed off the stage. Bartol tried his hand at recapping the story Timmay had blundered. Although slightly better than the farmboy he wasn’t very impressive either. Rachel, the elf maiden, did some slight of hand tricks with a scarf. She was good. And Bartol now understood how the others had missed her cheating.

Thane, Bernedette, Amy, and K’shar tried stupid pet tricks for the crowd. Their act flopped. A bard from Ashabenford, one the party had met at the White Hart, sang an old favorite of the Dales. He won. No doubt about it.

Crestor announced the winners, the bard, Rachel, and then the young blade dancer. A beautiful instrument was the prize.

“That concludes the competitions,”  Crestor continued. “I hope everyone will join us in the feast.”

Bernedette handed her money to High Muul. “Here,” she said.

“Keep the gold,” the haughty elf replied, “I don’t feel right taking money from a child.”

Bernedette flung the gold at him.


----------



## the Jester

*A little after the fact, but hey, I was out of town!*

It was great fun playing Pepto Winker-Jinker... I hope I get the chance to use her again one of these days!  Lemme tell ya, this campaign is the first time I've ever enjoyed playing in the Forgotten Realms; high praise goes to Olgar for his dming, and to all the players (at least, the ones who were there when I was) for a damn good time!


----------



## Angelsboi

*Re: Battle Chess*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> *The weakened Timmay, Angelsboi, and Bartol entered the event. *




You mean Bernadette right?


----------



## diaglo

Oops. edited for correction.  

Jester, HOpe you enjoyed your inclusion in the story. of course, it was from the Barbarian's perspective.


----------



## diaglo

*One, two, three*

The supplies the army brought from Ashabenford, as well as those recovered from the orcs, helped supplement the meager fare from the Helm. Hunters brought in meat from the surrounding forest. A large dire sow was the main course. Her suckling piglets were an added bonus. Thane avoided the meat.

Bernedette sat between Bartol and Alrissian. Partly to keep Bartol from embarrassing the party, but most to get to know Alrissian better. She also wanted to hear the recent word from him about Ashabenford.

He was barely three bites and a few sips of his ale into the feast, when Bartol felt ill. Violently ill. He thrashed about at his setting. He drew his sword and bashed the table.

"Poison," He gasped. "I've been poisoned."

"Well, with all you ate and drank today," High Muul began to infer. "It is no small wonder."

Wilf was brought in by the Rider Lt. He swore he had nothing to do with the poisoning. A burly old guard had been chased away from the supply tent. The Lt. still believed someone was trying to harm Nelyssa.

Four guards had to restrain Bartol. Thane applied his cudgel to the side of the barbarian's head.

When he woke, Bartol was still feeling not quite himself. His body raged against the stuff. The sun had set and the party was on their way back to the Helm. Every few steps, he stopped to heave. Soon nothing came out, but he still retched.

He was just straightening back up when Thane fell. A thin blade was retreating back into a tent. Bernedette pulled  the flap open on the tent. Inside a hobgoblin assassin had a bloodied rapier. Alrissian reacted quickly. He fired two quick arrows. One caught the hobgoblin in the gut and the other in the right eye. The assassin was dead before he had a chance to move. Timmay searched the body. Bartol stopped the flow of blood from Thane's side. A few rough sketches of Bernedette, Thane, Timmay, Bartol, Valgrim, and Marcus of Tyr were found on the body of the assassin along with some vials. Most of the potions were used.

The party continued to the gate of the Helm. Timmay reported his findings to the Lt. The Rider Lt finally believed the party. Everyone settled in for the night. No one slept well.

The party decided to split up. Timmay and Bernedette were planning on helping Ellier restore his lab and do some research. Bartol, Thane, and Alrissian would head to Ashabenford and then on to Glen. Alrissian would stay in Ashabenford and gather information. Bartol and Thane would return Duergeddin's Mace to Glen and sell some of the other items. Everyone would meet back in Ashabenford in a tenday.


----------



## diaglo

*Cliffhanger*

Bartol was quite pleased. He had a sack full of coins, after visiting Glen. He also regained the use of his stomach. He couldn't hold much down the first couple days of the trip. Bread and water are nice, but after 5 days he grew tired of them.

The party met back at the White Hart. Everyone was whole again. Timmay and Bernedette decided to go find the elven temple for Ellier. The rest of the party agreed. It seemed undead and other horrors were their main concerns now. Bartol placed the sack of coins on the table. Timmay split up the funds. Bartol also gave 2 of the magic arrows to Alrissian.

Bernedette and Alrissian visited the Harvestmother to fill her in on events. They came back with several potions. They also had stopped in on Haresk Malorn's daughter. Her party was the last to go South. And she was the only one to return. Timmay went with Bartol to the Temple of Tyr. They bought the place out of holy water and healing salves & potions. Timmay promised to send word if they found Sir Bradford of Tyr or any of the others. Thane also did some shopping. Although, he kept his purchases to himself.

They took a day to relax and enjoy themselves. They also caught up on each other's news. Bartol got drunk.

Their quest was South. They needed to find the Dark Road. Rumors of dark things and dark elves abounded. Alrissian took the lead. Bernedette rode with him. Then came Timmay. Followed closely by Bartol. And Thane and K'shar brought up the rear. After a half day's ride, they entered the forest. Eventually the path was only wide enough for a single rider. And then it became difficult to remain on horseback. So everyone dismounted and lead their horses.

Alrissian noticed a slight fork in the road. One road went up a rise and seemed to head towards an encampment. A trail of smoke rose ahead from that direction. The other fork continued South.

"I say," Bernedette called,"we head to the encampment. It seems close and if it is not the way we can always backtrack. Besides it is getting dark."

"It's your call," Timmay answered. "None of us has any better ideas for the location of this lost temple."

The party struggled up the rise. They traveled for another hour or so. When suddenly, the branches and brush around them came to life...


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Interesting title change.  Are you considering going to the rescue of Sir Bradford of Tyr?  He may not want to be rescued.


----------



## Angelsboi

well David and I know that the Sunless Citadel is coming up as is the Forges of Fury.  But i dont think this is it.  I have a sinking suspicion this may just be the Standing Stones.  I havent read the Standing Stones on but i have read the Sunless and Forges.  Ok, well i read Wulf Ratbanes Forges of Fury =)


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Metagaming! No XP for you!


----------



## diaglo

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> *Interesting title change.  Are you considering going to the rescue of Sir Bradford of Tyr?  He may not want to be rescued.  *





Nah, I was pimping for more readers.  

I thought the 3etards needed a title of an adventure they would recognize.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Then you ought to post to the Quintessential Story Hour Pimpin' Thread, below.


----------



## diaglo

been there. done that. see y'all Sunday.


----------



## Angelsboi

its not metagaming when you mention names from a module a DM has.  Its metagaming when you go "Oooooo this way!  I have a feeling Meepo is this way!"


----------



## diaglo

nah. Meepo is here on the EN World boards.


----------



## diaglo

*Dual wielding scimitars and bowmen.*

Bernedette had just pulled a piece of yellow cloth from a tree. It had been tack there as a warning obviously. On the cloth was a sketch of a human skull with a sword thru it. It must have been a spell trap. The trees and brush tried to entangle the party. Bernedette and Timmay were both caught.

"You shall not pass," a voice cried out in accented Common. Two arrows struck Bernedette. The elven shafts caused her to swoon.  Mumbling was also heard nearby.

Alrissian had time to spy their attackers. Three camoflagued figures of slight build, one was an elven woman. They were scattered around the front and left side of the party. All had bows in hand.

"We mean no harm," Alrissian called out.

"Die," the figure in the front answered,"Human lover."

"Well you aren't far from the truth there," Timmay mumbled under his breath. A little louder he shouted, "Damn dirty Humans."

The front bowman fired again. An arrow struck Alrissian. They meant business. Alrissian returned fire. The elven woman fired a green glowing arrow into Timmay. Droplets of green goo burned the area near the impact. She then slung her bow and reached for something in her belt. Thane conjured his own magic. The flora near the front bowman and the lady elf was soon moving. Bartol hurried to confront the last figure. Although he could only get close enough to cause the elf to drop his bow.  All of the ambushers were sun elves. Bernedette was still unconscious. Luckily she wasn't bleeding out.  Amy woke Bernedette. Timmay downed a potion of healing.

The lead bowman was held fast. Alrissian shouldered his bow and drew his rapier as he advanced. The elf woman moved clear of the entangling brush and fired 2 missles at Thane from a rod in her hands. Timmay screamed again as the goo ate into him. Thane was clear of the entangling brush now and threw a fiery missle of his own, the alchemist's fire. K'shar charged on the lady spellcaster. Bernedette struggled free. Amy was now caught.

"Surrender," Bartol offered to his adversary, "and I'll not need to harm you."

"You are an aberration, half- breed," the elf answered.

Bartol struck his foe, a dualblade-wielding elven ranger type. The ranger missed Bartol with both weapons. A wolf came out of the woods and fought by the ranger's side. Amy went to help Timmay. Timmay downed another potion.

The bowman struggled to no avail. Alrissian poked him. The lady elf fired another volley of magic at Thane. Thane slumped. K'Shar ravaged the lady elf. The fire and the wolverine finished her. Bernedette moved to Thane's side. Amy broke free of the brush. Bartol feinted to strike the ranger and caved in the side of the wolf with a mighty blow.

"You killed my friend," the ranger cried and raged. "You will pay for that." He struck Bartol with his blades. Timmay couldn't get free of the brush.

The bowman stopped struggling and tried to draw his sword. Alrissian finished him. K'Shar continued to rip on the elf woman. Bernedette gave Thane a potion to revive him. Amy went to help free Timmay from the hell weeds. Bartol swung again at the ranger. The ranger feinted an attack and ran. With all of his allies down and the party mostly clear he obviously knew he wasn't safe. Bartol took a parting shot at him with his bow.


----------



## diaglo

*At long last it is found*

Bartol downed a potion of healing. The party quickly searched the fallen. No clues were discovered as to why the elves had ambushed them. But they didn't want to hang around and see if reinforcements were coming.

Alrissian took the lead and after another few hours they found a 3 story building. It was overgrown with vines. The door was slightly ajar. As everyone was tethering their mounts Bernedette went inside.

"Well this looks like the place," Thane said.

"What happens inside an elven temple?" Timmay asked Alrissian.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "They remind me of brothels. You always have to pay for services rendered."

"No wonder Bernedette hurriedly went inside," Timmay chuckled.

The party heard a shriek. Alrissian was the first to the door. Inside Bernedette was sprawled on the floor. Two elven figures were pawing her. Three others were flat on their backs in a puddle of slick fluid. And a sixth was blocking a staircase going up. There was an odor of decay in the air. Thane started to light some oil. K'shar moved to Bernedette's vicinity.

Alrissian stabbed one of the creatures with his rapier. The zombie struck Alrissian. Bartol didn't have time to draw his sword. So he improvised. He barreled thru the door and lunged for the nearest creature. He tripped on Alrissian and landed at the ranger's feet. Thane hurled his flask of oil. It struck the 3 greased bodies. K'shar and Amy battled the other 2 free figures. Timmay pulled out his crossbow and moved closer. The elves were zombies.

Alrissian stabbed again into the zombie near the stairs and door. It was now clear of the stairs. Bartol drew his sword and chopped at the legs of another of the undead. He took the flesh off to the bone. K'shar and Amy still fought on. The supports for the stairs started to burn. Timmay crept past the melee and up the stairs. He then turned and buried a bolt into Bartol's zombie. It collapsed. Thane went to Bernedette's aid. He cast a quick spell to stop any more blood loss. She wasn't yet conscious. The three other zombies were no longer struggling. They stood up.

Alrissian again stabbed his zombie. It fell apart. Bartol stood and brought down one of the zombies under the stairs. K'shar brought down the one he had been battling. The fire was rising on the stair supports. The wood was old and very dry. Timmay covered Bartol with his crossbow. When one of the last 2 zombies moved out from under the stair, Timmay plugged it. This left just one. Thane continued to help Bernedette. His attention went to the fire. The zombie lumbered over to Bartol but was blocked by the buckler.

Alrissian poked the energy out of the creature. Bartol began to beat the fire out. Thane stepped up and cast a shower of water extinguishing the flames. Bernedette finally woke up. Timmay proudly put away his crossbow.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

I think the phrase "went down like Bernadette in an elven temple" was bandied about at the time ...

The pervy elf fancier gets no respect.


----------



## diaglo

*Alley Oop!*

It was Alrissian's turn to swig a potion. The party examined the area. The foyer was a 20' x 20' room with a stairs leading up. The stairs although now charred were still serviceable. No one went up. On the main level, a door lead off to the right of the platform. Another opening was under the stairs. And yet another archway lead off to the left. The archway opened into a chapel. A series of pews, 2 statues, a large tapestry, and an altar were inside the chapel. Alrissian, Thane, and Bartol checked the floor for footprints. A heavy layer of undisturbed dust was all they found. Going under the stairs and thru that portal lead into a 50 ft hallway. Here too was a layer of dust. Underneath the dust Timmay found a trail of dried blood and a larger area where a struggle took place. The hallway lead to the chapel and had yet another doorway.

Bernedette cleared off an area of the tapestry. It was a scene from elven folklore. An elven god defeating an orc. She began to pray.

Night had fallen. So the party established watch shifts and bedded down. Bartol scattered caltrops in the hallway. He also spiked the doors. That left only the one archway to watch. Bernedette and Alrissian took first watch. They woke Timmay and Bartol for the second. Thane and K'shar had last watch.

Bartol woke to Thane kicking him. He slept on his side and his ears were numb. He quickly started donning his armor. Alrissian and Timmay were staring blankly into space. Bernedette was mumbling something. Thane and K'shar were fully alert.

"What's going on," Bartol asked.

"We've got company," Thane replied. He cast a spell. A layer of magic covered his skin.

"It's an allip," Bernedette bellowed. "They are undead."

Bernedette followed Thane's example and a suit of magic armor soon protected her as well. Bartol could see and hear something now. A 3' tall grayish figure sank thru the ceiling to land near the altar. It was babbling something. Bartol scooped up Timmay and raced outside the temple. Alrissian was already ahead of him. 

Bernedette and Thane remained behind. Bartol pulled the bandoleer of holy water from Timmay and dropped the gnome. Timmay and Alrissian fled at full speed. Neither of them were of their right mind. Thane struck the creature with his cudgel. The creature's babbling increased. Bernedette summoned magic. Her beam of magic missed the creature. The creature reached for Thane. But the druid was too quick.

Thane swung again. And this time Bernedette connected with a ray of her magic. Bartol returned and hurled a vial of holy water. It passed thru the creature and shattered on the back wall. The creature touched Thane. Some of the light left the druid's eyes. 

Thane swung again. And again Bernedette tried some magic. Bartol uncorked a vial and sprinkled the area. He coated the altar only. The creature once again touched Thane. The allip sunk into the floor.

All reasoning seemed to leave the druid. He grabbed his sickle and cut a large section out of the tapestry as he ran from the room. Bernedette tried to think of something. Bartol turned and threw Bernedette over his shoulder. He sped after Thane.

"Put me down," the caller yelled. "We have to cleanse the temple of that thing."

Bartol slowed down only after he ran into Alrissian and Timmay. Both were back to normal. Thane was long gone. Bartol told them what had happened.

"We better get the horses," Timmay said. "It is the only way we will catch Thane."

When the remaining party members made it back to the mounts, Bartol finally put Bernedette down. She glared at him and then went back inside the temple. Alrissian followed her.

"Foolish girl," Bartol said as he prepared his and Thane's mounts.

Bernedette and Alrissian came out and also prepared to leave. Timmay watched the whole circus with a smile. Bartol hurriedly went back and gathered his caltrops. They then set off after Thane.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Two lessons here:

1.  Know when you're outmatched and be ready to run, and

2.  Bedding down in a lost/haunted shrine when you've only explored two rooms, with lots of cozy forest outside, is a bad idea.

Next time the allip isn't likely to spend four rounds doing nothing before attacking.


----------



## diaglo

*Subtle signs*

Thane ran for all he was worth in the direction of home. It wasn't hard finding his trail. Hopefully, the elf or elves wouldn't ambush the lone druid. It was ,however, several hours before the party finally caught sight of him. He was still running with the tapestry flapping over his shoulder.

"Thane," Bartol yelled, "wait for us."

Thane stopped and waited for the party. He argued that he would feel better after reaching home. He had lost touch with his divine sense. He couldn't summon his magic, nor could he string many complex thoughts together. He wanted his mother's advice. Bernedette convinced him to come with the party to the White Hart in Ashabenford. Maybe someone in town could help him. Bernedette took possession of the tapestry.

"What a mess," she said as she threw her hands up in the air. "You desecrated the temple. First with trying to burn it down and then with destroying this tapestry. I only hope this is enough proof for Eliar."

Thane didn't seem to pick up on any of the meaning behind the young girl's rant. Bartol handed him the reins to his horse.

As the light of day broke the party left the Dark Road and the forest. Bartol heard a whistling sound pass near his shoulder. An arrow with a piece of yellow cloth struck a tree the telltale skull and sword sign. Bartol snapped it off and looked back into the woods. No one was there. Alrissian came back with his bow drawn. Thane spurred everyone else on towards Ashabenford.

They rode throughout the day. The horses were near death's door when the party reached the White Hart.

"I'm buying," Bartol offered.

Only Alrissian took him up on the offer. Bernedette left the party in a huff and went to her family home. Thane crawled inside the stable to sleep. And Timmay went to the Temple of Tyr to report on Sir Bradford of Tyr.

Bartol and ALrissian drank and told tales to all those within earshot. The ale flowed freely. And Bartol bought many a round. Their favorite bard stopped by to thank them for the ale.

"Where have you been?" the singer asked.

"On a quest near the Vale of Lost Voices in search of a lost elven temple for Eliar the Advisor of Peldan's Helm," Bartol replied. "Well actually we were just humoring Bernedette. She would agree to do anything for Eliar."

"So I've heard," the singer winked and joined in the joke.

Bartol told their tale again. He showed the arrow and cloth to the bard.

"Meet me at the temple to Chauntea tomorrow," the singer whispered. "I would know more about these elves and your tale, but this is not a good place to discuss it." A little louder he said, "Thanks again for the drink." He then drifted back to the stage and began singing.

Bartol and ALrissian looked at each other and shrugged. They drank late into the night.


----------



## diaglo

*Round and round we go*

"Oh my head," Bartol said as he woke.

"Morning," Timmay chipperly replied. "I spoke with the priest of Tyr. Where do we go next?"

"Keep it down would you," Alrissian groaned.

"Where's Thane?," Bernedette said as she entered the common room. "He wasn't in the stable. I'll send Amy to find him or K'shar. And just what happened here last night?"

Bartol and Alrissian told of their chance encounter with the bard last night. Well, at least what they could remember of it.

So after eating the party headed to the Temple of Chauntea. It was now near midday. The clergy inside were cleaning up plates from their midday meal.

"You are too late for the repast," one of them said. "May I help you?"

"We're here to see the bard," Bartol blurted out, "I think."

The priest quickly and quietly moved them to the cellar door.

"Do you know your way around?" the priest asked. "He should be down there."

"I've been done there before," Bernedette stated. "I took a look at the Watchful sister's yeast problem."

Timmay fell over laughing. Bartol and Alrissian just snickered.

"What?" Bernedette fumed.

The conversation with the bard was much more serious. Timmay and Bernedette showed Elrand papers and the ring to the bard. He advised the party to seek the Oakfather or the Head Abbot of the Goldensheaf. Bernedette got a message from Amy. Thane was already on the way to the Oakfather. The party thanked the bard and told him they would let him know of anything new as they had to prepare for the journey.

They gathered their things and set off for the Oakgrove. It was late when they arrived. So they were sent to simple rooms to rest. In the morning they discussed with the Oakfather all they had discovered. He in turn told them Thane had already done so. The ring did change his attitude.

"Moander," the Oakfather announced. "But this can not be. He is dead. How much do you know about his portfolio?" The Oakfather then continued to enlighten the party. "I can do no more for you, but wish you luck."

Thane rejoined them. The Head Abbot of the Goldensheaf was his only chance for recovery from the allip's touch.


----------



## diaglo

*A quest*

They set off for the Goldensheaf.

Again the whole hierarchy was followed. First an acolyte, then passed to a harvestmaster, then so on and so on. At each step the party told a part of their tale. Until they finally sat waiting for the Head Abbot. Hours later they got their audience.

Thane made his plea. And the party showed the ring of Moander.

"I have the power to restore you," the abbot said to Thane. "But we will need a contribution to Chauntea, say 700 gold talents. And you must undergo a quest. Along with the ones you have already promised to undertake."

"Huh?" Bernedette asked.

"I'll tell you later," Bartol whispered.

Thane agreed. He pulled out his pouch and emptied it on the offering plate. Not much came out. Bernedette added some more gold.

"Fine," Bartol grumbled. "I told you to run from the creature. But did you listen to the Wise Bartol. No...." Bartol added another 300 gold talents.

They were still 150gp short.

"I can add 70 more if you add another 80," Timmay said to Bartol. They did.

Thane and the Head Abbot went into a side room to perform the ritual.

"So," Bernedette began, "what other quest?"

"Well, we agreed to find Duergeddin's final forge and lost weapons cache for his heir in Glen," Bartol answered. "Thane also had some secret mission for the Oakfather. Though, I don't know what that entails. And of course, I'm guessing the Abbot means our mission to find the Elven temple. Or he could be talking about the one to Clear the Caves. Or maybe our investigation into Erland. Or the disappearance of the caravans. Or our help with finding the Moander cultists. Or maybe..."

"Okay, okay," Bernedette was looking off into space as she interrupted. "After we deliver this tapestry to Eliar. We will find some magical weapons so we can battle the allip. Eliar says he wants the tapestry."

"Huh?" Bartol queried.

"He just told me so." Bernedette beamed. "And for now I think you, Bartol, should use the elven sword."

Thane returned as good as new. The party set off for Peldan's Helm. It was the first day of Marpenoth. The cold, low light days were fast approaching.


----------



## diaglo

*I have returned.*

The four day journey was almost uneventful. Almost. On the last day of the trip, the party heard the sound of wolves howling. They had heard rumors about wolves. They pushed their mounts a little to get to the Helm. The wolves got closer. It was now dark and the moon didn't provide much light.

"We aren't going to make it," Bernedette said. "Lets make our stand."

Bartol dismounted. And led his horse to a more defensible spot. He drew the elven longsword and thrust it in the ground. He then set his long spear to receive a charge. He could just make out the wolfpack, four large worgs with hobgoblin riders.

Thane and Bernedette couldn't see them. Bernedette's magical armor coated her once again. Thane did likewise. Alrissian prepared his bow. Timmay called out to Thane when the riders were near. Thane cast his spell to control the tall grasses. One worg was held fast. The rider dismounted. And he too was held. Another rider dismounted. The last two riders spurred on their mounts. The first rider rode by Thane and poked at him with a lance. The other rider struggled thru the tall grass. His mount narrowly missed being spitted on Bartol's spear.

Bartol thrust his spear forward into the worg and drew the elven longsword. Alrissian fired 2 arrows into the riderless worg that wasn't held. The 2 dismounted riders, one held and the other free, fired arrows into Alrissian. Thane flung a magical fire at the held worg. K'shar attacked the worg that had ridden past. The rider was thrown, but he tumbled clear and started to rise. Timmay dazed the poor hobgoblin with magic. Bernedette called for a magical friend.

K'shar's worg attacked the wolverine. Bartol's worg and rider missed as they rode passed. The rider turned around for another pass. Alrissian's worg closed within range. Bartol's temper rose. He turned and ran after the last mounted worg. He swung low and took the front legs off the creature. The rider had to tumble free as his mount died.

"Corellon Larethian is with you," Bernedette yelled.

"Torm be praised," Bartol answered.

Alrissian stepped back and fired another 2 arrows into the worg. The two hobgoblin archers fired again at Alrissian. He and the worg were starting to look like pin cushions. The worg missed with its bite. Thane moved over and cast a spell to aid Alrissian. His body slowly started to mend. Bernedette's summoned wolf bit K'shar's worg. K'shar ripped the throat from the worg. He was uncontrollably raging. The held worg broke free of the grass. Bernedette called for another magical friend. Timmay added insult to injury. He cast another spell on the dazed hobgoblin. The hobgoblin stopped everything. It seemed to be thinking. The other hobgoblin drew his sword and fought with Bartol.

Bartol missed the hobgoblin. Alrissian stepped back again and ended the worg's life. The last worg took a bite at him. The archers fired again. Thane struck the worg. Bernedette's first wolf joined the druid and ranger. K'shar raged on the stunned hobgoblin. Bernedette went after one of the archers. Timmay plugged the other archer with his crossbow. Bernedette's other friend appeared behind Bartol's hobgoblin, but missed with his bite. The hobgoblin grazed Bartol.

Bartol skewered the hobgoblin. He began a search of the bodies. Alrissian missed the worg. The worg fled. Thane finished the held archer with more fire magic. The last hobgoblin threw down his weapon and screamed in hobgoblin. K'shar tried to bite Timmay. Timmay hurried over to translate for Bernedette and get clear of K'shar. Bernedette held her staff menacingly as she waited for Timmay.

Thane finally calmed down K'shar. Bernedette bound the prisoner. And Bartol, Timmay, and Alrissian gathered the spoils.

"Halt who goes there," a familiar voice called. It was Sabine and a small group of guards from the Helm. "We saw some fireworks"

"Tell Wolf," Bartol grinned. "I have returned."


----------



## diaglo

*Return to the Keep on the Borderlands*

Sabine took possession of the hobgoblin prisoner. The party led their mounts thru the gates of Peldan's Helm. Wilf was happy to see them. Bartol, Alrissian, and Thane settled in for a night of drinking. Timmay and Bernedette went to see Eliar. They turned over the tapestry. It was late when they returned. But not too late for another round.

"Wolf," Bartol called. "Another round. Timmay and Bernedette have arrived."

"Anon," Wilf replied. "Anon, good masters."

The party decided they would interrogate the prisoner in the morning. They also agreed to visit the Caves once again. Wilf arrived with another round of courage. Timmay and Bernedette replayed their conversation with the Advisor.

"Tonight we drink," Bartol started. "For tomorrow we may die."

"Gulp," Wilf swallowed his tongue.

"Not you, WOlf," Bartol said as he struck the innkeep heartily between the shoulder blades. "Torm..."

"Corellon..." Bernedette interrupted.

"Silvanus..." Thane followed.

"Lord help us," Timmay rolled his eyes.

Alrissian just laughed and downed another drink.


----------



## diaglo

update available after this coming Sunday.

see y'all then.


----------



## diaglo

*A slight change of plans*

Timmay rose early and left a note for Bernedette:

"I've gone to spend some time researching with Eliar. Do not disturb me. I will find you.

Timmay"

As the rest of the party gathered for their morning breakfast, they were pleasantly surprised to find Erik in the Common room.

"Torm be praised," Bartol said. "It is good to see you again friend."

"And you also," Erik replied.

They quickly retold their stories. Bartol droned on and on about the monsters slain. Erik always a man of few words stated simply he was once again free to adventure. He had just arrived with the latest caravan of supplies for the Helm. Thane presented Erik with the Fat Cleric's armor. Bernedette was not herself. Or maybe she was more herself, very despondent. Alrissian had once again left the party to deliver a letter to the elves. This one was from Eliar.

"Our first order of business this morning," Thane told Erik,"is to question our hobgoblin prisoner from last night."

Jadaele, the guard captain, piped in from a nearby table, "right, I'll take you to him."

"We will need someone to interpret," Bernedette mentioned as they followed. "Timmay is busy."

"I'll send for Eliar," Jadaele responded.

The hobgoblin was chained to the wall. He seemed very defiant. The party waited for Eliar. Bartol pulled on his thick gloves and stepped forward menacingly. The hobgoblin blanched.

Thane pulled out a tattooing kit. The tools were very painful looking. He lit a brazier.

"I'll not be a party to this," Eliar stated as he arrived. He pulled a scroll from his robes and touched everyone inside the jail.

Thane winked at him. "We can handle it from here."

Eliar left. With the magic from the scroll all of the hobgoblin's babbling now made sense. Thane casually put one sharp-looking arrowhead in the brazier. The hobgoblin soiled itself. It spoke freely of its mission. Greck, the hobgoblin chieftain from the Caves had left the area around Peldan's Helm. Upon returning to the Clanhold in the Thunder Peaks, a place known as Mug's Teeth, he lost face. To restore face he had to make an example of the party. Bernedette was the object of the worg riders' mission. They had travelled or waited for 10 days for the caller to return to Peldan's Helm. Their war party was larger originally. But they had lost members in their travels. The hobgoblin begged for freedom. In exchange for taking the party to the Clanhold, the party agreed to release him.

"Well," Thane said to Jadaele, "we found out what we wanted to know. If you need anything more he's all yours."  The party left to go shopping for mountaineering supplies. They also stopped in on Reese the Cobbler for a map and any useful information. Later that evening Thane returned to the jail and healed the hobgoblin, so it was fit enough for travel.


----------



## diaglo

*Deeper into the wilds*

Bartol spent quite a bit of his money. He bought a pair of metal gauntlets with a locking mechanism, a grapnel, replacement supplies for his healing kit, and other odds and ends. He also bought 10 rods of light. Thane, Bernedette, and Erik also fitted themselves with supplies. Bernedette turned down the offer of a fine set of woman's chain mail underthings. 

The next day, Sabine met them at the gate with the hobgoblin. The creature was stripped down to a loincloth and shackles.

"Shall I send word to yer next of kin," she joked.

"See you in a month or so," Bartol replied. "Tell Timmay where to find us."

They set off for the Thunder Peaks. The going was easy. They soon passed the area that led to the Caves. The hobgoblin pointed to the normal trail. So they bypassed the Caves.

Bartol and Thane provided for the party from the game along the trail. Each evening they spiked the hobgoblin to the ground. Nothing unusual bothered the party for the first 3 days.

On the morning of the 4th day, K'shar warned Thane of watchers. For nearly 2 more hours the party felt their presence. Finally Thane spied one and called out in Common.

"Hello," the druid said. "We mean no harm."

A large spotted dog came out from behind a tree. It tilted its head as if it understood the party.

"A Kooshee," Bernedette squealed with glee. In elven she asked, "Are you alone?"

"No," came a voice also in elven from above. Four slender figures soon appeared.

"Hail my brothers," Bartol called in Elven.

"Come quickly," the lead Elf said, "we must away. We will talk when it is safe."

Some crashing could be heard nearby. Bartol, Bernedette, and Erik followed the elves. Thane and K'shar held back.

Another 3 elves hurried by Thane. They looked at him and shrugged but kept moving.


----------



## diaglo

*Curiosity killed the wolverine*

Thane ducked behind a tree with K'shar. The crashing sounds got closer. When curiosity could no longer be contained he peered out from his position. Five feet away stood a mammoth of a creature. A true giant. The monster was all in furs and carried a stone club. It was over 3 times Thane's height. Unfortunately for Thane they saw each other at the same time. Thane moved back and tried to cast a spell. Too late.

The hungry being reached down and grabbed the druid. He began to squeeze him as he lifted. K'shar attacked the monsters feet. The wolverine couldn't penetrate the furs. The giant swatted the wolverine. Turning K'Shar into paste. He again squeezed Thane. Thane yelled for help.

The lead elf turned to his men and smacked his forehead. Everyone turned around and sprinted back to Thane. Thane was several hundred yards away.

The giant looked at Thane, looked at the wolverine, and made a decision. He tossed Thane to the ground and picked up the wolverine paste. Thane recovered his footing. He pulled his cudgel and moved to the giant's feet.

"Let him go," Thane screamed.

The giant back handed Thane knocking him unconscious and turned to leave.

The elves, Erik, Bernedette, and Bartol fired a volley of arrows and bolts. Some struck the giant, but it didn't seem to care. The giant took a bite out of the wolverine in its hand and strode off into the woods.

"Come," the lead elf said again. "Grab your friend and lets go before he finishes that meal and comes looking for more."

Bernedette poured a potion into Thane's mouth. The party and the elves left in a hurry.


----------



## diaglo

*Roughing it*

At the elven camp, Bartol, Erik and Bernedette spoke with the leader. Thane sat to one side stunned. The elves told them they had been trailing the giant for several days. Their main mission was to stop any further orc raids from this area. They were originally from Essembra in Battledale.

The party told the elves of their mission to the Thunder Peaks. And as to why they were in the company of a hobgoblin. The elves were not familiar with Mug's Teeth. Bernedette began to tell the tale of her quest to become a priestess. 

"Oh, behave," one of the elves said in elven.

"You must teach me that," Erik laughed. "That is the first time I've seen anyone shut her up."

Bartol pulled his elven sword and the banner from his pack. He started to fill in the rest of the story. The leader didn't like what he saw.

"There are runes on this blade," he said. "And one such as yourself should be careful to whom you show this." He indicated the warning banner. "The sword, too, is not something I would show to many." He changed the subject. "The Thunder Peaks are 3 days West of here."

Thane prepared a meal for the company. Soon conversation died. The elves told the party to relax and not worry about taking watch.

The next day everyone said their goodbyes. Bartol told the elves to expect a gnome to pass thru this way. An hour later, the party discovered the giant's trail. They also found the remains of its meal. Thane built a pyre.

Two days later the party found themselves in the foothills. They followed a trail to the top of one and looked down on a beautiful valley. They struggled the rest of the next day to climb the next rise. The trees changed and the air got thinner. Across the way the party could see snow on yet another series peaks. They could also see Mug's Teeth.

"Lets camp off the trail here," Thane said as they reached the ridgeline. "It seems the most defensible. And I don't want to get caught in the dark."

"No fires," Erik added.

The party took care of their mounts and set up camp under the canopy of a large evergreen. They had a meal of dried meat.


----------



## diaglo

*Ambush phase I*

Bartol went back to the trail. He scattered his metal caltrops on the path. He tried to cover the party's tracks as best he could on his way back to camp.

Dusk fell. The party was just setting up their watches when the howls of wolves could be heard. After a few anxious moments goblin voices soon followed.

"I left my caltrops," Bartol whispered to Thane, "on the path."

Thane smacked his forehead.

Bartol rolled out from under the tree and began crawling forward for a look at the trail. Thane followed him. Erik and Bernedette both prepared themselves for the worst.

Bartol stopped when he could see the trail. With his elven vision he could see 4 mounted figures, hobgoblins on Worgs. Bartol stood up and took aim. Thane pulled out a vial and hurled it. A very lucky toss, since none of the humans could see, the vial struck a hobgoblin and burst into fire. Alchemist fire. Now they could see. Bartol launched his arrow at the lead rider. It struck the rider's armor but didn't penetrate. The hobgoblins dismounted and hid behind their mounts.

"Why did you do that?" Thane asked.

"You threw first," Bartol laughed as he prepared to fire again.

Thane cast a spell. The brush on the trail grabbed and held the Worgs and their riders. Bartol, Erik and Bernedette fired a volley of missles. One worg broke free and charged Thane and Bartol's position.

Thane tossed a ball of fire off into the night. Bartol slung his bow and drew his sword. His bloodlust took control. He struck the worg. Three stuck hobgoblins pelted Bartol with bolts. Another 2 worgs broke free of the brush. Erik and Bernedette moved forward. One hobgoblin and one worg lay dead from missles and fire.

Thane covered another hobgoblin with oil. Bartol battled 2 worgs now. As he killed one the other pulled him off his feet. Erik and Bernedette fought the other worg. The hobgoblins continued to fire bolts. One bolt struck the worg Erik was fighting.

"Idiot," Thane cried. "Didn't you wonder why I tossed oil on you." Thane cast a ball of magical flame from his hand. The hobgoblin screamed and died. The other two threw down their weapons. Both Bartol and Erik finished their opponents. Bernedette went back to camp to pack.

Erik quickly stripped the bodies. Bartol tied up the prisoners.

Thane took one look at Bartol and said, "Let me do that. You help Erik." Bartol and Erik broke the weapons and took the armor. Bartol recovered his caltrops.

Thane tied all 3 hobgoblins together. The 2 new ones didn't give the other one a very friendly look. One actually bit a chunk of ear off the original prisoner. Thane gagged them.

The party moved camp. Bartol, Thane, and Erik had all received some injuries during the fight. They needed to rest before going further.


----------



## diaglo

*Ambush Phase II*

"What did you do that for?" Erik asked Bartol at the new campsite.

"Well, I only saw the 4 of them," Bartol replied. "I thought we could take them. Besides I didn't want them reinforcing the Clanhold."

"I suppose they know we are here now," Bernedette added. "We sent up a pretty good signal fire."

"Good idea," Thane said. "We will setup another ambush, in case, they come looking for their clanmates."

The party rested. Along about midnight the following day, they heard activity near their old campsite. Another patrol passed by.

When everyone was healthy again. The party setup their trap. Thane paced out a series of flasks of oil alongside a narrow section of the path. Erik and Bernedette staked out a good spot to fire missles. And Bartol made a large pile for a bonfire.

Bartol was to be the advanced scout. He would hike ahead down the trail and then act as bait to bring the patrol back to the trap. He noticed worg tracks both coming and going. Some showed signs of loadbearing.

After waiting most of the night, Bartol wandered back to camp. The bonfire had gone out.

"I guess they won't be coming tonight." Bartol said to the others as he sat in his designated ambush spot. Hours passed.

Thane and Amy were across the way on a small ridgeline. Amy suddenly perked up. She told Bernedette, who in turn let Erik know. Erik hit Thane with a stone. Bartol saw the stone. But too late. A very large rider mounted on a very large worg had passed the trap and a second rider was almost out of the danger zone.

Erik reacted first. He fired an arrow down the path. But he couldn't see well. It struck a tree. Thane tossed a sunrod over the ridge behind the riders. Another rider was trailing. Bernedette began a calling. The riders turned and charged up the hillside. Bartol drew his sword and let his blood take him. He struck the first worg. The rider sunk his lance into Bartol's side. The second rider and worg charged Erik's position. The last rider dismounted and moved to Bartol and the worg closed with Thane. Two arrows sailed out of the night, striking the cover near Bernedette. Two archers were further down the trail. No one could see them. But they were making enough noise to discern their whereabouts.

Erik engaged his worg and rider. Thane fought his worg. Bernedette's summons was answered by a glowing eagle. The bird swooped down on Erik's rider. Bernedette began another calling. Amy leapt to Thane's defense. The little familiar weaved underneath the worg and latched on. Bartol repaid the rider with a massive strike. The hobgoblin was a strong warrior, probably a leader among his clan. He dismounted and drew his sword. The worg and flunkie couldn't break through Bartol's defense. Erik's rider was also ineffectual. But the worg found a weakness in the armor. Erik bled freely. Thane felt the bite of an arrow from behind. The worg pulled him from his feet. The archers were inside the danger zone now. And they were both visible.

Erik continued to battle the worg and rider. Thane stood and hurled a flask of fire into the danger zone. The hobgoblin archers lit up. Bernedette's second summons was also answered by an eagle. This one attacked the Hobgoblin Hero. Amy attacked Thane's worg again. Bernedette fired her crossbow. She downed Erik's hobgoblin. The other eagle went to help Bartol. The quarters were tight. Bartol, Bernedette, and Erik plus the 2 glowing eagles where very near each other. The Hobgoblin Hero, his flunkie, and 2 worgs were part of the mix. A few yards away and slightly elevated Thane fought a worg with Amy. Bartol adjusted his position and his attention. He chopped the flunkie in half. The worg bit Bartol. And the Hero scored another hit. The far worg tried for Amy. Erik was getting very weak. Another injury and he would be out of the combat. Bartol with his increased anger was still in shape to take some punishment. Thane was hurt. Only Bernedette and Amy were healthy. Maybe the caller was finally learning.

Erik landed a blow and finished the worg. He moved to Bartol's aid. Thane abandoned Amy and healed Erik. Bernedette used her tried and true spell of grease on the Hobgoblin Hero and worg. They didn't fall. The eagles attacked the Hero. One vanished afterwards. Amy stayed with her worg. Bartol manuvered again. He drew the Hero closer to  the party. His feint worked. The Hero charged into Bartol's sword ending his life. The 2 worgs fought on. Neither hit their respective targets.

Erik and Bartol downed the larger worg. Thane, Bernedette, Amy and the eagle before it left attacked the last one. The beast tucked its tail and ran.

Erik gave chase. He buried an arrow in its skull.


----------



## diaglo

*Contract fulfilled*

The men of the party were even worse off than the first ambush. They downed a few potions. And Thane used what was left of his magic. They would need at least two days of rest and more of Thane's magic before they could take on another patrol.

The loot from the second ambush was similar to the first. Except the Hero had a nice dwarven made sword, several potion vials, and a gold medallion. The sword had a mark similar to Duergeddin's on it. Bartol took it and handed Bernedette back the elven one along with the potion vials. Bernedette quickly went to test the potions. One had the magic of conjuration about it. Two others did not radiate magic. But they were heavily stoppered. Bernedette unsealed one to have a look inside. Poof. A vial of Alchemist's fire. Down the caller went. Everyone else was safe. Thane saw to the young girls' wounds. Her hair was gone. And the skin on her face was slightly melted.

[EDIT: doesn't change much to the whole story, but it was funny at the time  ]

The party decided to close the pass. They gathered timbers and some boulders. They put the prisoners to work. They spent most of a day clearing the brush for a line of fire for their bows and building their blockade. They rested and waited. Bartol made a covering for the prisoners from 2 of the worg pelts.

On the first day, Erik and Thane noticed a raven circling overhead. It wasn't unusual considering the carnage. But it perched nearby and watched. When Bartol and Erik reached for their bows it flew off. On the second day it came back.

"We can't wait for Timmay much longer," Thane said. "That raven is an omen. My guess is the Wolf Clan has a spellcaster. And that is its familiar."

"I agree," Bernedette commented.

"Well the trail near the swamp beyond is easy to follow," Bartol began. "I saw some tracks down there leading off to the next rise. We can make it in a day if we setoff after breakfast."

The travelled the next day. Thane lashed a rope to his horse and lead the prisoners. Erik, Bernedette, and Bartol kept watch as they crossed the open ground. When they reached the other side, Bartol dismounted. He handed his reins to Bernedette. He armed himself with the Dwarven longsword and a steel shield from the Wolf clan.

"Give me a 15 minute lead and then follow," Bartol instructed. "I'll scout ahead and see what's waiting for us."

Bartol sprinted up the path. There were several swithbacks. He made note of the fact the trail was wide enough and firm enough to support the weight of a rider and a mount. He guessed this was leading to the main entrance.

After the third switchback Bartol saw a guardpost. Two hobgoblins stared off blankly into space. Bartol pulled the shield in front of his face. He continued up the trail. Below he could just make out the rest of the party starting up the first switchback.

"Grenakrll?" one of the guards queried.

"TO ME," Bartol bellowed in Common over the edge and charged the rest of the way to the guards. He skewered one on the longsword. First time using it and it was a kill. The entrance was rather large. Thirty feet across and twenty feet deep before it turned out of sight. The other guard yelped something in goblin and fled at a full run around the corner.

Bartol withdrew his sword and turned back down the trail. The others arrived at a gallop. Erik first, then Thane dragging the prisoners. Bernedette brought up the rear of the party with Bartol's horse. Bartol strolled back to Thane.

"What," Thane puffed, "happened?"

Bartol ignored him. "Contract fulfilled," he said to the original prisoner. "If I see you again, I won't be so kind next time. These two I didn't make a pact with." It didn't matter that they didn't speak the same language.

He took the prisoners' rope and severed the bond of the original prisoner from the other two. His hands were still bound. Bartol then lowered his shoulder and pushed the other prisoners over the edge. The free one turned and ran. The other two made a loud squishy sound when they hit bottom.

"I chased a guard into its burrow," Bartol finally told the group. The sound of a metal door slamming shut and locking was heard. Erik moved slightly into the entrance and was looking down the hall. He saw a series of steps.

TWang, twang...


----------



## diaglo

Due to the holidays and school breaks our next session isn't until jan 12.

look for the continuing adventures of the Heroes of Peldan's Helm in 3 weeks.


----------



## diaglo

The hardest part of the next session will be including Timmay. Whether he was captured by a patrol and is now ahead of the party inside the Clanhold or whether he heard Bartol's bellow and rode to catch up.

Other things for the party to consider:

Erik is the most in trouble. He is inside the entrance and exposed to whatever shot our way. He does have the best armor.

We also have the issue of what to do with our mounts. Unless we find a stable or safe room inside the clanhold, we may have to set them free. I don't feel like lugging around all the extra equipment/weapons I normally carry on my horse. Plus I was growing fond of "Bob". They are also not mules and not warhorses, so they are not good for a dungeon crawl. Which I'm guessing this adventure is.

Water, food, healing potions, ammo for our ranged weapons, and spell components are also important.

After this ambush against the party, we will need to figure out what we have available to get inside.

The sound of the metal door slamming doesn't bode well for us. The clanhold will be alerted and locked. From our prisoner interrogation we have an idea that there are at least a dozen hobgoblin warriors plus a rogue subchief and an unknown chieftain inside the clanhold. We also don't know how many more guardians they have. We are guessing they have a spellcaster, most likely a sorc or wiz, b/c of the raven.

Traps, other entrances, spellcasters, and light sources are the next troubles/problems we face.

It should be a good session. But it may be a hard one.


----------



## Angelsboi

i come back from haitus and all hell breaks loose.  I guess Bernedette will have to kick some much needed ass!


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Who knows what malicious evil lurks within the stronghold of the Wolf Clan?

Will the party discover sufficient magical power to return to the hidden Elven temple and reverse its desecration?

Or will they all perish screaming in the darkness?

Only one week until they find out ...



HINT: I've got a special, unique mini painted up for the Chief of the Wolf Clan.


----------



## Angelsboi

anyone else here find what he said a tad bit frightening?


----------



## diaglo

Darkness and returning to the temple, both are scary.

I ain't gonna go back until I find something to hit that allip with. And that would mean fighting something just as powerful to recover the magic.

Edit: i didn't see that HINT line on the bottom of Olgar's post. oh boy, what minis did he buy?


----------



## diaglo

*Before I go further*

Let me explain a little of the metagame happenings.

The session you are about to read had one 32 round combat plus a little sidetrek plus another 3 rounds of combat sprinkled over a rest period. our DM, Olgar Shiverstone, rolled 6 critical hits, 2 of which he rolled crits on the confirmation of the threat, yes we use a variant for crits, but luckily for us not the instant kill one. We got a little confused with some of the rules during the session, but in the end we worked it out to our satisfaction. And it didn't slow us down hardly at all.

We game from 1200 til 1800hrs. one player couldn't arrive until 1630hrs and another couldn't make it. You will see them inserted quite well.


----------



## Angelsboi

Umm Bartol, i think we should change the Story Hour thread now.  And folks, the other player is my fiance' Randy who plays Alrission Mo'brith.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Well, it probably would have been less than 32 rounds if not for my little error with the _Obscuring Mist_ (teach me not to look a spell up myself ...), but the body count was rather high on the enemy side. We spent 3 1/2 hours on the combat -- not too bad of a round/hour rate.

Though I can't shake the feeling that I was being rather nice to the PC's ... must be time for another _potion of Rat Bastard! (tm)_.

Page four.  Whoo hoo!


----------



## Angelsboi

No, no.  I believe killing my familiar was *Rat Bastard](tm)* enough thank you.


----------



## diaglo

*From bad to worse...*

Twang, Twang, Thump Thump. Two arrows fired from the sly struck Erik. One a rather nasty shot took him in the neck. The other just grazed him. The fighter nearly fell from his saddle. Thane noticed 2 arrow slits, a little higher than Erik was on horseback, on the far wall. Before the next series of arrows could be launched he spurred forward and pulled Erik and horse to some cover. Thane shouted out the location of the arrow slits.

Bartol fired an arrow at one of the slits. He couldn’t see the other one. His arrow struck the edge of the slit, but didn’t enter. Bernedette dismounted and ducked behind the barbarian. The hobgoblins, or at least what the party could see and guess of their attackers, fired another volley. One arrow struck Bartol. The other went errant near Thane. Although with the cover, the archer wasn’t very likely to hit Thane or Erik. Erik took a potion from Thane’s pack and drank it.

Thane tended Erik’s wounds and added some healing magic to help. Bartol fired again striking just to the side of the slit. He quickly moved around the corner to see if he could see the other archer. Bernedette now felt exposed. She moved toward Thane and Erik. She fired a bolt from her crossbow. It struck the wall. Both archers fired at Bernedette. She took an arrow in the side. The other arrow passed thru her clothes but didn’t draw blood. Unfortunately for Bartol he ran into the range of 2 more archers. Both were lousy shots. Erik reached into Thane’s pouches and grabbed a flask of oil.

Thane summoned more magic. This spell caused a fog to quickly obscure all things around the druid. The only visible party member was Bartol. He fired another arrow at the newly revealed archers. Lucky for them they had cover. Bartol worried that all his best shots would still never penetrate. So he fled back into the mist. Bernedette moved closer to the wall and half scurried/ half crouched her way further into the clan hold. She eventually left the mist. But she didn’t expose herself to any of the arrow slits. Amy leapt off her shoulders and scouted ahead. The original two archers blindly fired into the mist. Erik felt his way around and tried to light his flask. He moved closer to the wall to try and located the slit.

Thane pulled and flask out also and lit it. He too felt for the arrow slit. Bartol charged out of the mist and past Bernedette.  She reached out but failed to stop the barbarian. He continued running. Soon he had entered new room. The sound of the closing door from early could only have been from here. A large set of stone doors with metal reinforced bars slightly recessed in an alcove barred the way. The room interior was also more detailed. Obviously dwarves had carved this chamber. Bartol ran right up to the door. He turned around to scan the room. Bernedette and Amy followed. Bernedette tried the door. It wasn’t locked but it also didn’t budge.

The hobgoblins missed their opportunity to get a free shot at the party. They also missed Erik and Thane in the mist. A loud click was heard at the stone doors. The last lock and bar was thrown into place.


----------



## diaglo

*Third times a charm*

Erik launched his burning oil at the wall. It splashed down the side. His horse moved them clear of the mess. Thane was luckier. His flask sailed thru the arrow slit and into the interior of the guard post. Screams could be heard. Bartol stepped away from the door and peered back into the carved chamber. An arrow stuck out from the opposite side of his vantage point. He followed it back to an arrow slit. He drew a bead on the opening and waited for movement. Bernedette tried the door one more time. She gave up and wandered over to Bartol. Amy found another arrow slit and informed her master. The hobgoblins were quiet. They were up to something.

Erik rode out of the mist and up to the door. He urged his horse to give the door a shove. Thane moved to the next arrow slit by feel. He tried to toss another flask inside. He succeeded in dousing the wall with oil. Bartol became frustrated. His anger took control. He slung his bow and threw himself at the stone doors. Even with the horse’s help the doors would not give even an inch.

“Where in the Nine Hells is Timmay when you need him,” Bartol fumed. “He would’ve handled these pesky archers with one spell.”

“He’s researching a different form of the Mount spell with Eliar,” Bernedette whispered.

“Only in your dreams,” Erik added.

Bernedette moved near one of the arrow slits to try and take a peek. An arrow flew over her head. She could see at least 1 hobgoblin inside. Erik urged his horse to aid Bartol with the door. Thane hurled a flask of oil thru the second arrow slit. He moved further closer to the rest of the party. And briefly Bernedette could see that the room beyond. The fog soon shrouded everything including Bernedette. Bartol again tried to breakdown the door.

Bernedette began a summoning. None of the party could see her features. But if they had they would have noticed a very sinister aspect. The veins in her neck turned a deep purple, almost black, and her eyes grew red. She was not a nice girl, anymore. The hobgoblin fired another arrow out of the slit. The mist saved Bernedette. However, an answering shot was fired from the other side of the chamber. This one did strike the young caller. Erik and his horse continued to aid Bartol.

“Burn, burn, damn you,” Thane screamed as he tossed more oil into the room beyond.

CRACKKKKKKK, The doors gave and the bar broke with a heroic effort Bartol had done it. Into the room the barbarian went.


----------



## diaglo

*The great new expanse*

This new room was even more trouble. Before the fog obscured his vision, Bartol saw he had a 10’ ledge followed by a large chasm approximately 30’ across and who knew how deep. A 3-rope bridge spanned the chasm. On the far side 4 hobgoblin archers and a shaman looking female looked Bartol’s way. On the near side 2 hobgoblin guards were near a door. The door was slightly ajar. If not for the fact it was open Bartol may not have noticed it. When closed the door fit too precisely with the wall. He had to stop them from closing the door. He drew his long sword and shield. The mist soon obscured everything.

Bernedette’s summoned friend attacked the hobgoblin archer. Bernedette and Amy fled the chamber and followed Bartol into the new room. She made it as far as the door before having doubts.

“Bartol, where are you?” She asked. “What do you see?”

“Watch your step,” he replied. “Don’t go further then 10’ into the room or you may fall a very long way. There are more of the hobgoblins 30’ beyond the ledge.”

The hobgoblins hadn’t quite figured out what to do. The 2 on the party’s side of the chasm pulled weapons and turned. The archers held their fire. Erik on his horse had seen the same things as Bartol. He rode into the room and attacked the guards. His sword sliced thru one and continued on to the other. But the second guard had more of the mist to cover him. Thane dismounted and strode to the now open doorway. His horse bolted back to the entrance.

Bartol launched an attack at the last guard. The mist saved it again. Bernedette’s little fiend continued to attack the hobgoblin archer. Bernedette did a quick calculation based on what Bartol had said. She called to Dawg. The hobgoblin spell caster/ shaman/ witch doctor/ whatever likewise did a calculation. Erik and his horse fell over blissfully asleep. The archers fired into the mist in the general area of the combat sounds.

Thane moved to wake Erik. Bartol struck exactly where he thought he should. Unfortunately, the mist saved his target. Dawg appeared on the far side of the chasm. He bit into one of the hobgoblins. Bernedette’s other creature, a fiendish bladeling, attacked one more time. Bernedette and Amy found another door on their side of the ledge. It opened and out tumbled a hobgoblin.

“Get away from me,” Bernedette screamed like a little girl and swung her staff.

Bartol’s opponent also missed in the mist so did Bernedette’s. The spell caster tried a different tactic. She reached into the deep recesses of the party’s conscious and brought forth their greatest fears. It didn’t work. The archers on her side of the chasm attacked Dawg. Dawg was banished. Erik rose and killed the guard. That left only the one near Bernedette. Thane bashed him senseless.


----------



## diaglo

*Now we see who's boss.*

Bartol strode to the door. Inside 3 more figures gathered. They had the size, shape, and smell of more hobgoblins. Bartol struck one down. Bernedette and Amy moved closer to the new door. The spell caster tried one last time. Erik didn’t fall asleep this time. And the 2 figures in the door also shook off the effects of the spell. One of the figures tried to tumble passed Bartol. He miscalculated. Bartol landed a vicious blow. The figure grunted but survived. He repositioned himself. The other missed Bartol in the mist.

“I see we meet again,” the figure said in Common.

“Grekk!!!,” Bartol roared. “I will kill you this time.”

Erik’s horse rose and wandered out of the combat. Erik moved passed the door guard and landed a blow on Grekk.

Thane poured a flask of oil over the entryway to the other door. Bartol finished the other hobgoblin. And closed the door hoping to trap Grekk inside with him and Erik. Bernedette opened the other door a little more. Amy ran ahead. Her bladeling also returned home. From the rope bridge two figures emerged on the ledge. Grekk fled. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he had gone back to the guard post with the arrow slits. Erik followed.

“Ohhhh ,” Erik yelled. “Runnnnnn.”

Grekk had ducked around a corner and 2 more guards stepped up to help him fight Erik. Erik took a swing at Grekk. There was another presence in the room, a very large and imposing one.

“Ummm,” a deep voice growled probably in hobgoblin, “Tyasodfo iooih aodihra.” An ogre with the glint in his eyes of more than a little brains was the speaker. He wielded an axe in each hand and wore a chain shirt.


----------



## diaglo

*Out on a limb*

Thane turned to the new figures. He tossed a vial of alchemist’s fire at one of them. It sailed to the side. Bartol opened the door and prepared to flee only to find the area ahead of him on fire. He instead chopped one of the figures. Bernedette and Amy ducked inside the hidden guardroom. Bernedette recovered 2 quivers of arrows. No more guards were inside. The figure between Bartol and Thane leaped free of the fire and ran to safety. He was headed back to the entrance. The same direction the party wanted to go. Grekk and his crew attacked Erik. Grekk placed one blow under Erik’s ribs. The other blows didn’t penetrate the heavy plate of the walking tank. The chief just laughed. Erik fled. He shoved the door closed behind himself.

A few moments passed. The fire went out. The party gathered around and tried to figure out what to do. None of the hobgoblins or the ogre tried the door.

“They are waiting us out,” Bartol said. “When the mist vanishes the archers on the other side will pepper us. And I’m sure they have the arrow slits covered again, if we try and flee, they will do the same. We need Timmay.”

“I hope he gets here soon,” Thane replied. “I’ve used all my healing magic.”

“I’ve got a few spells,” Bernedette offered. “But nothing that will get us clear.”

The time gave Bartol the rest he needed to restore his strength. He felt his way to the rope bridge. He tossed his grapnel to the far side. Erik noticed his movement.

“Bartol, what are you doing?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

“TO ME,” Bartol roared. He made his way across the rope bridge using his own rope as a belay, just in case.

Twang, twang, twang, twang.

As Bartol edged along the rope bridge, he eventually left the mist. The hobgoblin archers let fly a volley of arrows. Two penetrated the barbarian’s armor. He made the far side. He dropped his rope and drew his sword. The archers did not concern him. The spell caster on the other hand was bothersome. He charged passed the guards and plunged his sword into her lung before she could finish her casting.

The mist vanished. Three of the four hobgoblins had cover behind a stone pillar. Thane tossed a vial of fire across the chasm. Bernedette began to see the benefits of a crossbow. She fired a bolt. And Erik used his bow. One more hobgoblin down, the remaining three fired at Bartol. Bartol gained another scar. He cornered two of the archers and finished one of them. Thane struck another with a ball of magical fire. Bernedette just missed Bartol. Erik’s arrow struck the pillar. As the cornered hobgoblin dropped his bow and reached for his sword, Bartol beheaded him. The last one fired again. Bartol quickly dispatched the pest.


----------



## diaglo

*Down goes Bartol*

“Yeah, team,” Bernedette cheered with glee.

Bartol shook his head. He sheathed his weapon and began searching the bodies, four guards and a spell caster. The spell caster was halfway up a set of stairs that led to the only way out, another double door. Bartol hoped these weren’t locked. He didn’t think he could repeat his earlier effort.

BOOOMMM.

On his side of the chasm, Bartol had forgot to take into account reinforcements. He looked up to see the Ogre Chief striding thru the doorway, two hobgoblin guards right behind him. Another figure stood back in the door. As Bartol looked back to the others, the doorway Erik had been guarding also swung open. Grekk tumbled into view. He also had 3 guards.

“So much for that,” Thane mumbled. He tossed a vial of alchemist’s fire at the Ogre. It fell short just missing Bartol. Erik was too slow to get at Grekk, but he did kill one of the guards. Bernedette began a summoning. The Ogre strode forth avoiding the fire, but luckily missed Bartol with one of his axes. Grekk kept tumbling. He ended up next to Bernedette. His attack was wide. Bernedette screamed again anyway. Bartol ran for the bridge. The Ogre reached out and clipped him as he exposed his back. Bartol stumbled and slipped on his own blood. He did a face plant and slid out over the lip. He fell into the chasm.

“NooooooOOOOOOooooooo,” the party screamed in unison.


----------



## diaglo

*All good things come to an end*

Down, down he fell, his arms flailing around trying to find something, anything to stop his plunge. Maybe it was a silent prayer or plea on his behalf by Bernedette or maybe it was Torm’s blessing. But Bartol was lucky. His gauntlet grabbed a rope, his rope, dangling over the edge. The full force of the halt nearly pulled the grapnel free, not to mention Bartol’s shoulder. But at least he was alive for the meantime. His life’s blood was still flowing freely from the gash the Ogre had delivered.

Thane stepped to Bernedette’s aid. He planted a solid blow on the side of Grekk’s head. Bartol saw Grekk’s threat finally ended. Erik had his hands full. He decapitated one guard, only to find two more taking his place. Bernedette began another summoning. Another fiendish creature answered her first summons. It attacked the Ogre. The guards and the Ogre made short work of the bladeling. With his other axe the Ogre chopped one of the ropes on the bridge. Another figure looked over the edge at Bartol. It was one of the human clerics Jozam had with him back at Peldan’s Helm. He cast a spell calling on the doom of all those not loyal to his deity.

“You owe me 30gp.” Bartol yelled up.

“Crap.” Bartol looked up and saw his rope in line with the Ogre’s axe. He summoned what strength and courage he had left. He let his anger have what was left of his sanity. The idea was to pull the Ogre into the chasm. He swallowed his last potion.

Thane launched another vial of oil at the Ogre. This one unlit. Erik finished another guard. The last guard closed the door and locked it. Three small creatures answered Bernedette. She tried to weaken the Ogre with a spell. Nothing she did seemed to work. Perhaps the human cleric’s god was stronger here. The guards and the Ogre made short work of one of the summoned creatures. Bartol climbed. Too close. The Ogre reached out and struck him.

Thane launched a magical ball of fire at the Ogre. He ignited. Erik fired his bow at the Ogre, but couldn’t penetrate. Bernedette fired a crossbow bolt. The Ogre and the guards dispatched the last of the summoned creatures. Bartol lunged for the Ogre. The Ogre connected and that was the last Bartol knew of the party’s fate.


----------



## diaglo

*Don't worry, be Happy*

Fear not there is still more to the story.


----------



## diaglo

*To the Rescue*

Timmay and Alrissian set off from Peldan’s Helm days behind the rest of the party. Timmay had a few new spells in his spell book. And Alrissian had delivered a letter to the elven community before returning for Timmay. With Sabine’s instructions they quickly covered ground. Alrissian’s warhorse was very spirited and had to constantly be reminded to wait for Timmay.

“Do you think we will reach them in time?” Alrissian asked.

“Of course,” Timmay replied, “don’t you worry.”

Three days later, the two travelers stood beside a small funeral pyre.

“Animal remains,” Alrissian said. “I would guess those of a small bear or bear like creature.”

“Wolverine,” Timmay surmised, “I’m guessing. Maybe we should be worried.”

Alrissian took point. They traveled another couple days uneventfully. As they climbed a small hill they discovered signs of battle. The remains of 4 very large wolves and 2 hobgoblins were mostly eaten and ravaged.

“I think we are on the right trail,” Alrissian chortled.

“I hope they saved some fun for us,” Timmay added.

They crossed the stretch between Mug’s Teeth and the party’s ambush hill. It was getting very late.

“Maybe we should set up camp,” Alrissian commented.

“A little bit further,” Timmay piped in. “You lead.” 

At the base of the rise they found Bob, Bartol’s horse. Most of his supplies were still on board. Timmay and Alrissian stripped Bob and hobbled their own mounts with him. They gorged themselves on Bartol’s tack. Timmay pocketed 8 sunrods.

“I don’t see the other mounts,” Timmay noticed. “Maybe Bob got loose. Alrissian why don’t you scout ahead.”

The ranger jogged ahead checking the trail. Timmay pulled out his crossbow and loaded it. As they started on the next switchback, they saw the entrance to the Clan hold. Three horses and the rest of the party’s odds and ends were being watched by a hobgoblin, a rather burnt and beat up specimen.

Timmay and Alrissian shot the creature before it could raise its voice. Timmay lit a lantern. It was very dark now.  And Alrissian checked out the horses and supplies and looted the corpse.


----------



## diaglo

*Dead pussy*

“Here have a swig of this,” Alrissian offered a bottle to Timmay.

“Okay,” Timmay thanked him, “I do have a powerful thirst.”

CRRRUUUUNNNCCCHHHHH

“What the?” Alrissian guessed.

Timmay ran silently ahead. As he rounded a corner he saw Amy darting thru a set of broken doors. His lantern light illuminated the doorway. In the light he saw Erik run passed. Alrissian rounded the corner behind Timmay and started to the doorway.

CCCLLLLIIIIICCCCKKKKK

Thane and Bernedette also ran to the now once door. The hobgoblin had closed and locked it.

“NooooOOOooooo,” Bernedette sobbed. “Amy, come back.”

Moments later Bernedette swooned. Alrissian caught her.

“Where’s Bartol?” Timmay asked.

“Gone,” Thane answered. “Maybe dead. We had an awful battle. An Ogre, one of the priests with Jozam, and what is left of the Wolf clan took Bartol and fled.”

“They just tried to seal us inside that room,” Erik said as he pointed back to the other guardroom. “I’m guessing Bartol is dead. But who knows, uh, he is lucky.”

“Dead,” Bernedette wailed. “Amy is dead.”

Alrissian tried to console Bernedette, “Just be thankful they won’t eat your pussy.”


----------



## Angelsboi

Yupp.  Amy died trying to save Bartol and it was no such luck.


----------



## diaglo

*Filling in the gaps*

Thane, Erik and Bernedette filled in the gaps. They told Timmay and Alrissian of the death of K'shar at the hands of the Hill giant, their encounter with the elves, their ambushes on the hill, and the eventual entrance to the Clanhold.

Thane continued the story," Bartol was knocked down by the Ogre. Try and recall the start of this whole thing, Jozam had 2 acolytes, Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber. One of them grabbed Bartol and dragged him thru that door across the chasm. The Ogre fled with his two guards. But not before we hurt him. He had to drink a potion to restore some of his health before he could finish the task of chopping down the bridge. I restrung one ropes. And Bernedette almost fell trying to cross. Erik went across and recovered a wand and some items from the female hobgoblin spellcaster before returning. We tried to wait it out inside this other guard room. But they didn't give us enough time. With the two of you here now maybe we can regain some spells, restore some of our strength, and free Bartol."

"We found the horses and I have some of the sunrods," Timmay interrupted.

"I'll take those," Bernedette said.

The group figured out watches and setup a new barrier. Erik drank one of Alrissian's potions.  Thane also strung another rope across the chasm using his magic. They rested.


----------



## diaglo

*A little help...*

In the morning, there was new activity. Some time in the night someone had cut the ropes again. Thane quickly went about the task of tieing them back together. Bernedette flung 2 sunrods into the chasm. She wasn't strong enough to get them across. Her third attempt succeeded.  Alrissian scampered across. Bernedette tried to follow. Halfway across she ran out of steam. She screamed and held on for dear life. Thane leaned out and grabbed her hand just as she started to slip.

Whether it was the scream or just the movement, two hobgoblin archers appeared at the doorway. They fired a volley of arrows at the nearest party members. Alrissian sent to arrows into one of them. And Timmay tossed some sand up into the air.

"Sleep and bother me no more," Timmay muttered. The last archer slumbered.

Thane pulled Bernedette back up to the second rope. She scooted across. Thane followed. Erik also had a little trouble. He wobbled on the brink of falling but redoubled his effort. He made it. That left only Timmay.

"Uh, Bernedette," Timmay called. "May I borrow your spell book?"

"My book," Bernedette wondered. "Whatever for?"

"Well you do have an Servant spell cast on it, right?" Timmay stated. "I want to use it to help boost me across. I am not a muscle bound gnome. And I would prefer to use my brains and bottom to overcome this obstacle."

"Oh," Bernedette said. "I see. Why, of course. Book, Fetch Timmay."

With the book firmly planted under him, Timmay half rode and half pulled himself across the chasm with the ropes.

Bernedette pulled her Elven crafted longsword. She stepped upto the sleeping hobgoblin.

"This is for Amy." She plunged the sword into the victim's neck.

"So much for questioning the prisoner," Erik chided. "Well, Timmay would have ended up doing the same I guess."

Alrissian, Erik, Thane, Bernedette, and Timmay strode thru the doors into the next part of the Clan hold.


----------



## diaglo

*SPOILER ALERT*

S
P
O
I
L

E
R


A
L
E
R
T

This warning is for the party.

Bartol had terrible dreams. He awoke with a start. A strange figure; a dwarf, or what could have been one, was shaking him. The fellow was too thin and bald. He had been shaven, and not in a kind fashion. He had many bumps, bruises, and scrapes.

Another short prisoner, and indeed it was a prison in which Bartol found himself, was nearby. He was much worse off than the dwarf or even Bartol.

“You’re awake,” the dwarf said. “I think you’ll live. At least for a little while longer.”

Bartol examined himself. They had stripped him of everything. And someone had closed his wounds. He was sore from head to toe, not unusual for a night of drinking, but he hadn’t touched a drop. He then remembered the battle.

“Did anyone else survive?” Bartol hurriedly asked.

“Anyone else?” the dwarf replied. “I don’t know. They only brought you.”

Bartol began to worry.


----------



## diaglo

update this Sunday.

a first, i think, in a very long time; the entire group will be there.

Alrissian

Timmay

Erik

Bernedette

Thane

and

Bartol

characters we have lost due to players moving on:

Marcus of Tyr

Valgrim

edit: and Pepto's guest appearance.

although they may have fallen victim to the hobgoblins or the DM may have further use for them as NPCs.

i will only be posting the first part of Sunday's session. i'm hosting a Super Bowl party and have to cut out early. the rest of the die hards are gaming long after i leave. maybe we can convince Angelsboi or Olgar to finish the story hour where i leave.


----------



## Angelsboi

Bernedette will post her prays to Corellion Larthithian if you want =)


----------



## diaglo

*Reunited and it feels so good*

What did Bartol know? He and the dwarf were just getting to know one another when some familiar figures appeared at the prison’s entrance, the Ogre and his remaining tribe. The dwarf shifted back to the other prisoner. No it wasn’t another prisoner. It was two, two human dirt farmers. They were holding on tight to each other like a couple scared rats in a cage.

“Rats in a cage,” Bartol thought. “I’ll not become like them.”

Too late. Bartol turned his attention back to the entrance in time to see a punch from the Ogre. And then all was dark again.

He heard voices. One of them was familiar. He struggled to regain consciousness.

“Okay, okay,” a young feminine voice was saying with obvious concern and trepidation. “Give us, Bartol, and we will leave. It was Bernedette.

Bartol opened his eyes. He was bound in chains and laying at the Ogre’s feet. An axe rested on his neck. A multitude of pelts hung at the Ogre’s belt. One was very familiar. 
By the look on Bernedette’s face and the fact she was staring right at it, Bartol could only guess what happened.

They were in a chamber partially lit by a sunrod in Bernedette’s hand. A small pool of water was just off to the side. Most of the walls were very naturally formed. The dwarves hadn’t done much to this area.

“Go,” the Ogre responded in Common. He reached down and easily lifted Bartol. He flung the barbarian towards Bernedette.

“Come on,”  Bernedette reassured him. “The others are waiting.”

They crept along down a corridor. The Ogre trailed behind. There were many tracks in the dust of the passage. Bernedette began to wink and nod her head in a strange fashion. Her activity got more and more rapid. Finally the two approached an open door. They went thru. Timmay, Thane, Erik and Alrissian were on the other side armed for bear,….Ogre.

“Attack you idiots,” Bernedette screamed. “Didn’t you see my signaling.”

Even though, the party hadn’t gotten the hint. The Ogre had. He turned a corner and ran off. Erik, Alrissian, and Thane hurried to follow.


----------



## diaglo

*Free at last.*

“The Dwarf,” Bartol mumbled. “You must find the dwarven mason, Dorik Stonebeard,  before it’s too late.”

“I knew it,” Timmay replied with glee. “I knew he was alive. Bernedette, I’ll free Bartol. You go help the others.” Timmay summoned some magic. His hands practically dripped with acid. He touched Bartol’s chains.

Bernedette ran to catch the others. They sprinted down the corridor and stopped in the same chamber Bernedette and Bartol had just left. Four other passages intersected with the chamber. And a small alcove with iron bars also occupied a wall.

“Let me out,” a dwarf cried in heavily accented Common from the alcove. “’Ave you gat a’ axe.”

Bernedette went to free the dwarf. Alrissian, Erik and Thane watched for signs of the Ogre or his men.

Timmay tried again. It was enough. Bartol broke free from his chains.

“Free at last,” Bartol sighed. “Torm be praised. Don’t put these chains on me again.”

Timmay left Bartol in search of the others. Bartol closed the doors and barred them. He then followed Timmay.

“No point,” Bartol figured, “in allowing the Ogre to sneak up from behind us.”

Thane and Erik went to help Bernedette. Thane summoned some magic. The metal of the bars heated up. Bernedette exhaled her icy breath magic on the hot bars. And Erik pushed with his heavy boots. The bars gave. The Dwarf was free. The two dirt farmers pleaded for mercy.

“For your own protection,” Bartol told the farmers, “you’d best follow us. There is no safe way out of here.”

"Bartol," Bernedette chastized. The young caller helped calm the scared farmers.

“No more noise,” Alrissian shouted to the others. “I don’t hear or see any activity. The Ogre is gone.”


----------



## diaglo

“A’ axe,” Dorik interrupted. “’Aven’t ye gat a decent weapin?”

“Look Gimpli,” Bernedette turned to the dwarf. “Just stay out of my way. You could at least thank us for freeing you.” Bernedette handed the Elven longsword to Bartol.

Thane summoned a covering of magic. Mystical blue furs also adorned Bartol. Bernedette did likewise for herself. Her armor looked very different, two points on top of her …and a metal string going down thru her legs. Bartol had to look away. 

“I feel strange,” Bartol admitted. “This is so different from any of the magic I control.”

“Magic?” Dorik asked. “Bunch o’ dirt farmres and spellsneezres, wonderful, I’m ‘avin’ a nightmare. I needs an ale, a very strong ale.”

“I’m with you there,” Alrissian piped in.

“And I,” Bartol agreed. “But first I want my things. My father’s bow and grandpa’s sword, and…”

“Let’s go find the Ogre.” Thane broke in. “Bartol drink these.”

Bartol downed 3 quick potions. Some of his color returned. But he was still only about 40% of his usual self. Enough, he hoped for what lie ahead.

"Don't mind them, Master Mason" Timmay beamed. "We are pretty good at this adventuring work."

They inched down the passage the Ogre had taken. It curved to the northeast. After going only 30 feet or so it opened up into another chamber. Erik tossed a sunrod ahead. The light showed a pile of boxes, crates, and sacks.

“My things,” Bartol exclaimed. He crossed the chamber to search.

“Get them,” a voice bellowed in Giant and Timmay translated.


----------



## diaglo

*Timmay is the Gnome*

Two arrows sliced in from the dark. One struck Bartol.  The enemy closed on the party. Three wolves, 2 hobgoblin archers, and the Ogre were now visible in the light. Bartol saw his own blood and raged. He chopped one of the wolves down. Alrissian fired into melee. One arrow struck a wolf and the other the Dwarf. The wolf took a bite out of the Dwarf also. The other wolf bit Bartol. The Ogre closed and hewed Bartol. Bartol was hanging on by willpower alone.

“Which one o’ ye ar’ my enemies?” the unarmed Dorik yelled. He retreated. The wolf took another bite out of him. Bernedette and Thane ran back to the other chamber. They were going to try another passage to see if it looped behind the Ogre. Erik finished the wounded wolf. Timmay stepped up and cast one of his most devastating mind spells.

“Who’s your daddy?” Timmay intoned. 

The Ogre cowered. It began to weep uncontrollably.

Another voice was heard in the dark. The language was not very friendly. It could only be the Moandite.

The archers fired and the wolf bit again. But the magic armor worked this time. Bartol injured the remaining wolf. Alrissian drew his rapier and stabbed the Ogre. Dorik chased after Bernedette and Thane. Thane rounded a corner. Two more arrows are fired. One sunk into the druid’s side. Bernedette quickly summoned 2 copies of herself. Thane hurled a sunrod across the chamber. The Moandite and two hobgoblins crouched behind a low wall. Erik moved to the Ogre. A mighty blow ended the Ogre’s threat. Timmay covered the 2 visible archers near Bartol in shadowy magic. He moved to the Ogre’s body.

“Dorik,” Timmay called. “I’ve found you an axe.”

The two blinded hobgoblins drew swords and stumbled around. The last wolf died on Bartol’s sword. Alrissian sheathed his rapier and fired his bow. One of the blind hobgoblins was no more. Dorik sprinted passed the party and headed to Timmay. Bernedette entered melee with the Moandite acolyte. The archers struck and finished one of the Bernedette images. Thane fired 2 bolts of magic from his wand. One more hobgoblin went down. Erik saw Thane’s light way down the chamber. He hurried as fast as his armor would allow.

“Two Bernedettes,” Erik moaned. “This is a nightmare.” As he neared the combat, a lone wolf growled. She was in an alcove.

Timmay pulled a potion from his pouch and gave it to Bartol.

The blind hobgoblin attacked the air. The Moandite and the last archer both missed Bernedette.  Bartol downed the potion. Four potions in less than 5 minutes, his bladder was almost full. Alrissian slung his bow and drew his rapier. He advanced on the blind hobgoblin. Dorik gathered up the Ogre’s axe, a dwarven waraxe of excellent quality. Bernedette struck down the Moandite with her staff. Thane fired his wand again. The hobgoblin archer fell. Erik turned around and went to help Alrissian.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Re: Timmay is the Gnome*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> *“Who’s your daddy?” Timmay intoned.
> 
> *




LOL.

There I was, Dwarven waraxe and battle-axe wielding Ogre Ranger with Combat Reflexes, ready to lay some smack down.

Protection from Good up from my buddy the evil cleric.

Will save?  Say what? Scratch one Ogre Ranger.


----------



## Angelsboi

Funny how as the game has been progressing, Bernie has started to suck less and less, yet still is the brunt of jokes.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Angelsboi said:
			
		

> *Funny how as the game has been progressing, Bernie has started to suck less and less, yet still is the brunt of jokes. *




You sure you don't want to edit that particular post?


----------



## diaglo

The shadowy substance left the hobgoblin. He was the last of his tribe. His subchief, Grekk, was dead. His chief, the Ogre, was dead. All of his clanmates were dead. He would not run. He was but a simple warrior. But he would die honorably here and now.

Bartol closed with the warrior. The Elven blade scored a slash along the hobgoblin’s chain mail, but did not mark his tough hide. The hobgoblin lashed out. He punctured Bartol’s lung. Down went the barbarian; only his anger kept his heart beating. Alrissian poked at the foe with his rapier. A shield, the wolf paw emblazoned on the front, deflected the blow.

Thane, unaware of the combat still going on, approached the she wolf. She was guarding her cubs. Thane reassured her.

“Damn you, Bartol,” Bernedette called. She uncorked another potion and sped to the scene.

Erik moved into position. He too was uneffective in harming the hobgoblin. Timmay searched the Ogre for anything else that might be helpful.

“Leave it to me,” Dorik tumbled thru the mass combat. The hobgoblin swung at him as he passed. Dorik completed his roll and buried his new axe in the hobgoblin’s back. So ended the Wolf Clan.

Bernedette made it just in time to save Bartol. He spasmed and was about to expire. She poured a potion down his throat. He still bled. So she applied another. Third time was a charm. Bartol’s fits ended. He started to come round.

“Are you alright?” Bernedette queried. 

The first words out of Bartol’s mouth were, “I gotta go .” He had downed 7 potions in less than 5 minutes.


----------



## diaglo

*What's mine is mine*

Bartol shook his head. “For a second there,” He said. “I could’ve sworn I saw 2 Bernedettes.”

The party had to find the 2 dirt farmers. They had fled back to the prison. Bernedette convinced them it was safe again. Thane stayed with the she wolf until all the bodies were stripped. The crates, boxes, and sacks contained items from caravan raids.

Bartol put on a suit of the hobgoblin chain mail and picked up a shield and bow. The chamber had another exit. Alrissian opened the door. The passage beyond looked like it would head back to the entrance. The group plodded cautiously along. On the side of one passage was a door. Bartol found a human skull spiked to the base. Alrissian, Dorik, and Erik turned a corner. Bartol, Bernedette, Timmay, Thane, and the dirt farmers pushed the door open. Inside Bartol saw two chests. Both were large enough to hold his things.

“My father’s bow,” Bartol entered.

“Wait,” Thane and Bernedette tried.

Alrissian, Dorik, and Erik also found something interesting, a dwarven statue with arms held out. As Alrissian approached the statue, it belched a gas. Alrissian felt weaker. Erik and Dorik were unaffected. The passage ended. But Alrissian’s elven instincts made him search. He found a secret door.

Bartol did find his things. He also found Dorik’s arms and armor. The other chest contained coins. Bartol stripped off the hobgoblin armor. Everyone but Dorik left the room. Bartol and Dorik helped each other into their familiar gear. As Bartol stood looking around, he, too, saw a strange outline of a door.

“Bartol,” Bernedette asked from the door. “Are you decent?”

Bartol examined the door. Bernedette came over and looked at the writing. Thane and Timmay followed suit.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Re: What's mine is mine*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> *“Bartol,” Bernedette asked from the door. “Are you decent?”
> 
> *




"Bartol" and "Decent" are two words that shouldn't collide together in the same sentence.


----------



## Angelsboi

i whole heartedly agree


----------



## Angelsboi

So, Bartol, hurry up already so i can post my parts =D


----------



## diaglo

*Minty freshness*

Bartol thought, “The room we are in could only belong to the Ogre, Ulfe.”

He studied the outlined door. There were crude designs in blood all over the wall and the door. He found the mechanism to open it. Another thought occurred to him. “This room beyond must contain the Clan’s treasure hoard.”

Timmay translated the scribbling. It was hobgoblin graffiti. Roughly it said this was not a healthy place to enter, an obvious ruse by the Ogre to keep his subordinates out. Bartol ignored the writing on the wall. He opened the door. Inside, coins were scattered or piled throughout the room. The party gasped. Bernedette quickly mumbled a soft cant. She pointed out areas that radiated a magical aura. There was magic inside. Timmay also crept forward for a look. Thane hung back by the other door. Dorik and the dirt farmers milled about.

Erik and Alrissian opened the other hidden door. They both entered the room beyond. Stacks of dead hobgoblins and their things were located against the far wall. Bunks and loose chairs completed the rest of the décor. A stench of the beginnings of decay emanated from the bodies. Alrissian found another well crafted and concealed door behind the bodies.

Bartol marveled at the treasure. More coins in one place than he had ever seen. He moved into the room for a more thorough count. Magic. The coins began to swirl and coalesce. Bartol ran. They formed the outline of a Dragon. A dragon constructed of coins.

“DRAGGGGOONNNN,” Bartol screamed. He bowled over Thane on his way out of the room. Bartol was in no shape to handle even one lone cat, much less a dragon. He ran down the hall and into the room with Alrissian and Erik still screaming. Bernedette quickly closed the door. The coins dropped to the ground.

“What do we do now?” Timmay asked in a calm voice.

“We prepare,” Thane replied as he picked himself up and dusted off. “There are too many goodies in there for us to let the hobgoblins recover.”

Bartol ran thru the door Alrissian was just opening. He ran on. He found another secret door and the way back out. He turned back when he realized no one had followed him.

“I’ve found the way out,” he said sheepishly upon his return.


----------



## diaglo

*Let fate decide*

“We rest, regain our spells, heal, and get ready,” Thane started the discourse.

“I’m leaving,” Dorik stated. “And I’m taking the dirt farmers with me.”

“Wait, Master Mason,” Timmay tried. “We really could use your help. And besides the wonderful axe you now have, perhaps, a share of the spoils will convince you?”

“You can have 30gp from my share,” Bartol offered. “I owe you that much for helping me out while I was unconscious.”

“Okay, okay,” Dorik agreed. “What do you want me to do?”

The party settled around and discussed their options. They formulated a plan. Thane cast his last two spells on Bartol. And Alrissian donated his last potion to the barbarian’s health. Still Bartol was not quite recovered. But Bartol at half mast was still a formidable force. Once they agreed upon the plan, they went to rest, to take watches, and to heal. In the morning they would let fate decide.

Bartol said his prayers to Torm. “Oh Great Torm, hear my plea. If I should die tomorrow, let me die in your service and for the good of my companions.”


(OoC: This was where I had to leave. Angelsboi will let you and I know what happened next. I still don't know.)


----------



## Angelsboi

*A Minted Dragon*

((OK, so now i get to finish the regaling tale of what happened to us.  Let's see how good i do ...))

The group readied their spells.  Bernedette was decked out in thin, black spiked leather armor that appeared when she commanded that Corellon protect her and she called forth five images of herself, all in the same armor, carrying the same crossbow, with the same messed up (yet returning) hair.

"Great.  Instead of one useless caster, we have six."  Chided Eric the fighter.

"Can it Eric."  Retalliated the young caller.

"So, whats the plan Bernedette?"  Asked Thane getting ready.

The entire group was shocked and turned to Thane seeing if it was really him or someone in disguise.  Bernedette looked to Thane.

"You have never asked me about battle strategy.  Why are yuo starting now?"

Thane looked at her.  "Good point.  Lets do the usual."

"Charge blindly and hope to live?"  Asked Bernedette.

"Isn't that always the plan?"  Asked Timmay.

The secret stone door was opened once again as Thane started his nature work against the rough ceiling and it became clay and started to give.  Timmay glued and webbed the floor, hoping to stop the coins from forming into the draconic beast that formed from them.  The room was small and the party was plenty.  The dwarf waited for the word 'now' so he could tumble in and take out the dragon.

The dragon reared back and breathed gold and silver coins full force at the people in the doorway.  Bartol, Bernedette, Thane and Eric took the brunt of the blunt coins.

"Now?" asked the dwarf.

"Steady.  Steady.  Hold it."  said Timmay.

Thane still continued to work the ceiling making it from clay to mud, dropping and covering the floor.  

"Come forth creature of metal and spires, hear me now and follow my desires!"  Bernedette called out as a creature of human size appeared to help Eric and Alrission who followed into the fray.  "ATTACK!"

"Now?"  asked the dwarf.

"NOW!"  Shouted Timmay, Bernedette and Thane.

The wily rogue tumbled into the fray to attack the dragon.  His waraxe passing through much as Erics had.  "Fools!  This is a fool's mission!"  He tried to leave but was stuck inlace, thanks to Timmay's glue.  "Ack!  Magic!"

Thane got wise and handed Bartol his magic club.  "Here."

Bartol charged into the fray and started attacking it along with everyone else.  While everyone was missing it, Bartol's strikes were sound and true.  Soon the draconic beast of coins took its last hit as something from where its heart was went flying into the mud.  The coins fell to the ground in a small tinkling sound.  It sounded like crystal rain. 

"Is it ... gone?"  asked Bernedette.

Thane walked up to Bartol.  "Thank you."  Thane quickly grabbed his club back.  Bernedette thought she almost heard a 'Yoink' sound.

"Well, no time like resting up."  Eric said.

Thane and Bernedette looked at each other and then at Timmay.  "And like diving for gold!"  

Timmay and Bernedette were the first to leap into the room of mud and start searching for coins.  

"Ya know Bernie, we need to remember this."

"I know Timmay.  We can do this at Peldans Helm's next tournament.  Midget Mage Mud Wrestling.  I can do Reduce on myself."  She smiled and Timmay chuckled as they shared their own private joke.

The entire group started searching the small 15ft by 15ft room and they found what was in the chest of the coined dragon.  It was a rapier with dwarvisha nd elvish writing on it.  The crosshilt was of dragon wings while the pommel was the dragons chest and head.  The eyes were saphires and the dwarvish writing declaired it was to be used in guarding the treasury at Myth Drannor.  Bernedette gasped.  She translated the elvish writing to declair its name was Hordemaster.  It had a special mark of Durgeddon.

It took 2 days for the group to recover and get the treasure they had recovered from the hobgoblins crypt and the last stand of Hordemaster and the company.

Master Mason declaired he would take the humans back to the town and Timmay gave him his share of the treasure so far.  He then proceeded to tell the group of a door inside the keep that the ogres wanted him to open but he refused.  He told them they couldn't open it either.  Timmay took note of this and both he and Thane sent word back to their respective families that they were ok.  The group bid Master Mason and the two scarred humans Bernedette had befriended farewell to continue their search of the mountain home.


----------



## Angelsboi

*Other people, All around me, Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot*

During the two days the group was mining the coins and gems from the previous fight, Thane was back talking to the wolf and her cubs.  He was working his naturistic ways and soon she came around.  He informed her to stay there in the alcove and he would return.  It was safe for her there and not adventuring with the group.

After the two days of mining and the dwarven mason and humans left the catacombs, the group found a room full of supplies that the ogre and his crew had stolen.  They started to go back by where the cleric had been bludgeoned to death by both Bernedette and Thane.  There was a well there and some bars in the wall that seemed to be caked with flour, blankets and matresses.  Leaving it alone, they continued on into a rough rock corrider that seemed to be just left.

The group, with the exception of Bernedette, was looking everywhere for something she thought wasn't.  

"Is this what you are looking for?"  Thane reached up and moved a rock slightly and a door swung open.

The secret passage lead into a well made hall that lead into a dead end.  After carefully searching for 20 minutes, the group found a latch that opened up the wall into a dark room still obscurred with a little smoke.  The warming fire was cold and Bernedette nearly screamed at the yellowed skulls hanging from ropes on the ceilings.  Some human, mostly dwarfen and other small humanoids.  Timmay was not pleased.

The room with the skulls lead into a large room with many dwarven frescos and a huge door at the far side.  A set of stairs lead down into the dark where trickling water and the faint sound of buzzing could be heard.  As the group panned out to look around, the buzzing sound got louder.

"Damn mosquitos.  Abominations!"  Thane mumbled.

"Im not an abomination."  Bartol cried out.  

As the large creatures with long noses started to fly into the group, Erioc slew one with a hit of his blade, swinging blood everywhere.  One attached itself to Bartol, who, promptly pulled it off and slammed it under foot.  Two attacked Alrission and a third was looking for another tempting dinner.  Timmay came to the rescue letting loose his famed silence spell.  All three stirges fell.  Alrission grabbed his neck and was quite pale.  Eric and Bartol had fun squishing the little buggers.


The group retreated to the room with skulls so Alrission could repair himself and Thane could repray to his gods for help.  The next morning, Alrission was once again up and not weak.  Everyone was ready to see what was behind the mysterious door.  So back into the fesco room they headed only to hear the faint buzzing sound again.

"Ok everyone, be ready!"  called Eric.

Eric sliced one in twain as Timmay fell the others with a simple sleep spell.  The group made their way into the room towards the door.  Bernedette looked at the bars in the room filled with blankets, matresses and flours.

"Well, looks like we know where this leads."  Bernedette sighes.

"Thane commented, "Stirge proof.  Smart thinking."

Eric opened the door, although it had some major resistance.  No sooner than the door was opened, then the group was sprayed with a thick, viscous liquid, worse than alchemists fire.  Thane seemed to be blessed by the fire gods as he was unharmed.

Eric, Bartol, Bernedette, Alrission and Timmay were all on fire and only Thane could stop it.  Thane helped Bartol extinquish the flames on him.  Bernedette, Eric, Alrission and Timmay both fell from the pain of the fire.  

Thane ran to each of them reviving them with what few minor curing abilities he had and stabalized them.  Timmay came around and looked at everyone.  

"Oh great.   Bernedette won't shut up about this one will she?"

Thane shook his head no.


----------



## Angelsboi

*Trouble and Solutions*

The group retreated as Bartol dragged the fighter Eric out, Thane grabbed Alrission and drug him out and small gnomish Timmay tried dragging Bernedette out.

"A hundred pounds my gnomish ass.  Do I look like a milk maid because i think someone here is a cow!"  He grunted until he saw Bernedettes backpack floating and remembered her floating spellbook.

"It helped once.  Couldn't hurt to try again."  He got her spellbook out and put her arms around it and used it to drag the young caller out of the room, back into the skull room.

"This is getting old."  Said Thane.

The next day, Thane healed everyone and was out of spells yet once again.  Bernedette came too and saw everyone, save Thane, had no hair or eyebrows.

"You all are very sweet to do this for me so I dont look so bad.  I promise, i have a small cantrip that will fix this soon.  I just need a couple days rest and some money."

"We have that."  Thane chuckled.

Everyone looked at Timmay the hairless gnome and commented among theirselves how he appears far more intimidating with no eyebrows.  The group once again treaded back into the fresco room to not hear the sounds of buzzing.

"Guess they got tired of us whipping their collective asses."  Timmay noted.

"I have an idea."  Bernedette said.  I think i may have a way to open the door so we dont get toasted.

The smell of brimstone and the feeling of heat surrounded the group as Bernedette started chanting.  "From the heat and from the fires, summon forth to fulfill my desires!"

The group didn't chuckle, wanting to see what Bernedette was about to do.  A man appeared with dark red skin and the group instantly recognized it as a tiefling.  Bernedette spoke in a glutteral language and the creature nodded, showing his allegiance to the young caller.  It opened the door for them and the trap went off once again as the group stayed in saftey.  

The fire cleared back and her creature was gone and the door was closed.  "Well, it was worth a shot.  i figured maybe its fire immunity -"

"No, no.  It was a good idea Bernedette Timmay said.  We just need a little time to figure out hwo to get back there."

"Why?"  Asked Alrission and Eric.

Thane piped up.  "Easy.  The dwarf said that the dwarves protect their most valuables best.  Id have to say as Master of Fire, this is a damned good trap.  Maybe we can make the rock clay and we can pinch it together.  That would take another day though."

"Another day we may not have.  We have been here five already and if you pinch it, the fire may cause an explosion.  We will be running out of light soon enough."

"Hey, i have lanterns and candles and blankets.  We will have light."  Thanke said.

Timmay chimed in.  "The Dales may be cold this winter but we'll have light!"

"Well we should finish up here befre we go down there.  There may be some good stuff down there."

Bernedette nodded.  "I agree Thane."

The group found themselves back in the main area and checking out the previous area they had found a red glowing a couple days prior.  Thane and Bernedette thought it was a forge but instead found the coals long burned out and it was just a makeshift kitchen.  They all felt a cold draft and Timmay made note of it.  "A chimney."

"Well we need some time to regroup and regather.  We need some more supplies."  Thane explained.

"Tilverton is about 5 days away and Ashabenford is about 8 days away."  Eric pointed out.

"Well we could use the horses and my book to drag this stuff out of here and back to Tilverton.  We could stay about 5 days and return."  Timmay said.

Bernedette nodded.  

Alrission volunteered to stay behind and make sure nothing was taken out or the evil clerics of Moander couldn't start anything else.

The group left the elfen ranger behind and headed off toward Tilverton ...

The group decided to take what treasure and spoils they have back to Tilverton to reduce their weight haul and allow time to regather and reform a plan.

Alrission stayed behind at the mountain home to keep an eye out as the adventures gally off.


----------



## diaglo

Hah, I hit. I hit.

It pays to have someone else roll for you. 

edit: i think you can start calling me Bartol Dragoncrusher now.  

destroyer of metal dragons...no wait...that doesn't sound good.


----------



## diaglo

Bartol reassured Bob. It had been a few days and the poor creature had been lost without his master. He gave him the last of the good stuff. Bob was glad to have Bartol back.

“You’ll have to wait until we get to Tilverton, boy,” Bartol told him, “before we will have any more goodies. I’ll make sure you are safe.”

Bartol then curried and cared for Bob before the unfriendly task of loading him back up with the spoils.

“Tilverton?” Bartol asked to the wind. “I seem to recall hearing rumors back in Ashabenford about trouble in Tilverton.. I also remember that Merchant and his guards saying this road is dangerous.” Bartol turned to the others. “Keep an eye out for big hairy goblinoids or orcs. They weren’t specific about how many or how large. But the caravan survivors did say they were sneaky and well armed. I hope the dirt farmers and Dorik made it back safely."

Bartol pulled his wolf pelts closer. The weather was shifting.


----------



## Angelsboi

Bernedette moved near the half elven barbarian.  "I remember hearing something about that as well Bartol but we can deal with it.  Thane always has his ear to the forrest floor.  We just need a town and some civilization.  Good for the groups morale ya know."

She clung closer and grabbed ahold of Bartol's arm as they walked.  She shivered growing cold in the late autumn.


----------



## the Jester

This remains a very cool story hour... I really liked the fight where Bartol got knocked over the edge!   That was very dramatic.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

You should have been at the table!  I think the party burned 5 hero points that session.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Interlude -- The Quaan*

The dark, cowled figure sat hunched in thought, one elbow resting on one armored knee, the slate band of a platinum ring pressed to his lips.

_*You have something to report?*_

_"Yes, my lord,"_ came the hurried reply.  The creature grinned under its cowl, picturing the panic of its minion. _ "A setback.  A minor one.  Another of the tribes we hired has been destroyed.  This one was guarding the door ... the door that had not yet been breached."_

_*And the source of this setback?*_

_"Adventurers, my lord.  The same as before"_

_*A petty bother they are, nothing more.   Is your retrieval of the artifact complete?*_

_"Yes, my lord.  Soon, we think, it shall reveal the path to the warrens."_

_*Bend you mind to the discovery of the key.  Another of our pawns has opened the warrens; we must find the key to the door beyond!  Already my agents search ... but the Network works against us.  As do others.  The key, Erlend!*_

_"And the adventurers, my lord?_

_*Act against them as you see fit.  You still have much to atone for.  There is no hurry.  All that matters is to retrieve the item that will free our master.*_

_"But if they interfere again ...?"_

_*My dear Erlend ... has not our master taught you that rot claims all, in time?  Patience.  They play a perilous game of which they know not the rules.  If others do not destroy them, they will face us eventually.  Go now.  Focus your alliance on locating the key.*_

_"Yes, my lord Hedrack."_  Hedrack felt the bow of the man with whom he communicated, then removed his hand from his lips, severing the connection.  

Patience.  The fools would be dealt with in their own time.  They were only one of a number of petty obstacles ...


----------



## diaglo

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> *Interlude -- The Quaan*




Show me da Money  

next story update 02/09/03

more pleas for readers/comments will continue thru this week


----------



## reichtfeld

Timmay Scheppen, gnome enchanter extraordinaire, had arrived late along with the elven bowman Alrissian to the aide of their embattled companions within the hobgoblin stronghold.  But that delay was certainly well-spent to see the potency of magics that Scheppen employed, having perfected them in the company of the august wizard Eliar at the keep of Peldan's Helm.  He even chided Bartol in good humor for sending the barbarian's ogre captor into a sobbing, quivering mass with a simple enchantment.  Against goblins, of which the gnome's hatred had been well-demonstrated with the few uses of his crossbow, his spells were of great potency.  Yet against strange and unliving foes they were of almost no avail as was seen in the group's chaotic melee with the dragon construct.  Indeed they all brought strengths and weaknesses to the collective, but together as one they were a phalanx of sword and spell, bow and staff, strength of arms and strength of will all brought to bear against the foes of good-hearted Dalesfolk.  

There was no questioning what kept the party together despite the terrible risks they always faced: imprisonment most recently for Bartol and death for them all, but perhaps the girl Bernadette most of all, as she was so often wont to tempt that grim fate.  They had come quite a ways together since the fateful Shieldmeet, which, even for the long-lived gnome seemed to be more distant than it truly was.  Together they shared great risks in the defense of their home and their values, but those risks were not without reward.  Certainly each drew comfort and delight from the service they rendered the Dales and its peoples, yet the end of each battle saw little Timmay concerned with one reward in particular...

Treasure.  Praise be Oghma, the piles and piles of it, enough shining coins for him to bathe in.  The gnomish wizard sat cross-legged on the smoothed stone floor of the chamber surrounded by mounds of gold, silver, and copper coins; stacks of swords, bows, and suits of armor all of various make; gems, potions, and everything else that he'd made his duty to tally.  Tim adjusted the spectacles he always wore for this ceremonious event and lowered his summoned quill back to the parchment spread over his lap.  

_The engraving upon the fine silver blade names it as _Hoardmaster_, which its demonstrated ability would seem to substantiate, having conjured forth a "dragon" composed of its deceased owner's wealth, or hoard.  The engraving includes the tale of its origin as a gift to the treasurer of doomed Myth Drannor.  "Hoardmaster" also bears the crafting mark of fabled dwarven smith Duergeddin, although the twin daggers that composed the conjured dragon's fangs do not bear his stamp despite what is, to my untrained eye, impressive craftsmanship that would suggest a link.  No doubt there will be intense debate amongst my companions as to this weapon's fate.  Delivering it to Glen for an appraisal would be an affront if we should decide to deny them the blade pending its value, although there is none but our elven scout that would put it to best use, magical properties notwithstanding.  I would like to think that the dwarves would offer as generous a bounty as demonstrated in the past for the blade's return, and if so that should leave all parties satisfied._

Tim raised the quill and scratched at the singed remains of his blonde goatee.  If the company had been cursed for pride having mocked Bernadette's baldness then it certainly wouldn't explain Thane's escape from the merciless flame.  Of all the places to find his head uncovered it had to be within the dank and cold of a dungeon such as this.  The gnome would have scowled as he dismissed the quill into oblivion if not for the boom of a familiar voice.

"Timmay!"  A muscled half-elven figure stepped into the doorframe, prompting a smile from the enchanter.  "Well if it isn't my favorite POW," he murmured in a friendly tone while rising up and turning to face the barbarian.  "And just when I needed a good, strong fellow to start loading the horses.  What superb timing!"  Of course any sarcasm was lost on Bartol, who relied exclusively on his swordarm rather than any wits.  "I'll go fetch Alrissian as you haul the gear outside."  He trusted the ranger to best secure the burden of loot onto their respective mounts, perhaps with Thane's assistance as well if the druid could be trusted not to 'misplace' any treasure into his own personal pack.  As the gnome scurried out in search of their aide he wondered at what use a druid could have for any wealth within the woods.  Then again, it wasn't the woods they would travel to, but Tilverton.  And if there were an alchemist then Thane would find a new home for his share, spent on bottled fire.

The enchanter idly rubbed a hand over his bald scalp, cursing the substance with coarse whispered words.  It would serve as a severe reminder of Bartol's monopoly on door-bashing until Bernadette could finish her research to replace the loss.  Until then, though, Timmay was left to consider the sale of their treasure and what provisioning would be necessary for the acquisition of more.  Because their work was certainly not over within the hostile confines of the forge, rather it had only just begun: more foes to defeat, more treasure to liberate, and always more riddles to answer in the ongoing battle with Erlend.  His acolytes defeated, it would not be long until the enemy came against them himself.  

Would they be prepared?

---

They say this cat Timmay is a bad mother
_Shut your mouth!_
I'm talkin' 'bout Timmay. 
_Then we can dig it!_

He's a complicated gnome 
But no one understands him but his froggy
_Timmay!_


----------



## Angelsboi

ah the signature line from Shaft.

_Damn Straight!_


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Dude!

Timmay the Gnome can _write_!

Good to have another chronicler of the epic!


----------



## diaglo

Public Service Announcement

that's why it pays to stay in school

and not do too many harmful things to your body and mind




give us some more time and we will have him talking and writing just like us old fogeys.


----------



## Angelsboi

Heh.  Well, Sunday should be quite interesting.  Glenn said we wont get a theme adventure (since its almost Halloween) but we'd be very very frightened.


----------



## diaglo

*On the Road again...*

The party evenly distributed the coins, arms, armor, and the gear for each of the horses to haul. Bartol occasionally took some of the extra weight off of Bob. The animals were tethered together for ease. Thane spent time with the wolf bitch and her cubs. Although not tame, there was a new understanding. She was starting to accept the party as her new pack. The horses avoided  the wolves.

The first day was almost completely uneventful. The party passed thru the wilds and found the Moonsea Ride to Tilverton. Bartol checked for tracks of other travelers. The road hadn’t seen any activity for many days. On the morning of the second day, a larger group of riders was visible in the distance. They appeared to be human or humanoid and were mounted on horses. They were armed and armored.

Bartol worried. He handed the reins of the horses to Erik and jogged ahead of to check things out. No visible signs of the riders on the road. No areas where an ambush could occur. And he found an area of woods that Thane could use in their defense if need be. He jogged back to report. The riders had moved to another ridge. They waved their weapons in the air but did not advance on the party.

Bartol started to draw his sword.

“Would you cut that out,” Thane said as he playfully swatted at him with his cudgel.

“Calm down,” Timmay added. “They appear to be just a patrol.”

Bartol would not relent.

“Please,” Bernedette cooed.

“Okay,” Bartol replied and let go of his hilt. Bartol took the reins again from Erik.

The night was  beginning to fall when the party finally spied a watch tower.

“This must be Tilver’s Gap,” Erik stated.


----------



## diaglo

*Not one more step...*

“Hello in the tower,” Bartol bellowed from a safe distance.

“Hello on the road,” came a reply. “Approach and state your business.”

Two armored and armed guards opened  a door. Higher up the tower a third figure could be seen playing with a wand.

“He’s cast a spell,” Timmay whispered.

“Some sort of divination,” Bernedette added also under her breath.

The party approached the guards. They were clad in the uniform of Purple Dragons.

“We are here as a simple trade caravan,” Timmay offered as they closed. “We hail from Mistledale.”

One of the guards held the door open, while the other went inside. A moment later another figure emerged with the guard. He was the Sergeant of the  Tower.

“We need you to sign the register,” the sergeant stated. “And we will need you to peace bond your weapons.”

“I’m not signing anything,” Bartol angrily remark.

Timmay tried to settle the matter diplomatically. The sergeant and the barbarian squared off. Only with the intervention of another visitor did things cool down. A moon elf, with long black hair and the hint of white in the front dressed in black studded leather and armed with a short sword and bow, was also being detained by the Watch.

“I’m Veridian,” the elf broke in. “And if you will have me as a companion, I will finally be able to continue my journey. It appears the Purple Dragons don’t like lone travelers in Cormyr.”

“Cormyr,” Bartol murmured. “I’ve gone further today then I ever have before. I’ve never been outside the Dales.”

“None of us have,” Timmay tried to console him. “But for adventurers like us, who needs to fear the path we tread.”

“Adventurers?” the sergeant asked. “You’ll need to sign the name of your party into the register.”


----------



## diaglo

*What's in a name?*

“Sign?”  Bartol growled. “Are you still mocking me?”

“Just do as I taught you,” Bernedette hummed. “You’ll do fine.”

“But we are just here to trade,” Timmay stated again.

The party finally gave in. Timmay wrote the name into the ledger:

*The Eleventh Hour Adventuring Company*

“And now to peace bond your weapons,” the sergeant continued.

Bartol and Erik were each allowed one dagger free, but everything else was bound. Timmay, Bernedette, and Thane’s weapons were also bound. Veridian had submitted to the process earlier.

“Spell casters, too, need to be bound,” the sergeant added. Just then the figure from on high entered the lower tower from another door.

“Those two for certain,” the war wizard indicated Timmay and Bernedette.

“And me,” Bartol proudly admitted.

The arcane and barbarian spell casters were peace bonded. Thane remained quiet on the matter.

“There are wolves at the door,” one of the guards interrupted.

“They’re with us,” Thane stated. He slept outside with his pack.

The others were fed and bed down for the night inside the barracks. Timmay and Veridian stayed up late talking. Timmay told Veridian everything he could about the party. Bartol saw to Bob. Besides the party’s animals, there were 15 other horses inside. All had the brand of the Purple Dragons. Bernedette focused on her research. Erik was his normal quiet self.

Tilverton was 1 day further travel to the West.


----------



## diaglo

*Bright Lights, Big City*

The party planned to leave early the next morning. Mostly so they would make it to Tilverton in time to find an inn. But partly due to the unwelcome greeting the guards had given them the night before.

Before leaving the sergeant once again reminded the party of the laws and customs of Cormyr.

“You will be safe,” he began. “So there will be no need to draw your weapons. If you do use them or cast spells you will be punished. Only by visiting Arabel and obtaining a legal writ will you be free to move about the country. Even then you must be willing to show your charter to any and all Purple Dragons upon request. Further…”

“I’ll hold you to your word,” Bartol commented. “If we are not safe I will hold you personally responsible.”

“Bartol,” Thane screamed. “Let’s just go.”

They left at a quickened pace. As the road moved closer to the city, more activity was noted. The lands were all well tended. And the buildings became more frequent. The party could see Tilverton a mile or two away before they arrived. A high stone wall surrounded the city. The gates were open. Guards patrolled the walls and on the ground. As the party passed thru the main gate, the party paused. The Sun was just beginning to set.

“Torm,” Bartol prayed. “Protect us.”

“We’ll need to stay together,” Thane commanded. “We don’t want to get separated. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Veridian smiled.

“Move along,” a guard said. “You’re holding up traffic.”

“Friend,” Timmay grinned. “Do you know a nice inn or a place to stay?”

The guard directed the party to a gnome priest in the market square. He was a practitioner of Gond. Timmay ran ahead to find him. The rest of the party followed. Bartol brought up the rear with the horse train. Veridian scanned the crowd.


----------



## diaglo

*A night off...*

The two gnomes were thicker than thieves. Speaking of thieves, Veridian’s eyes spied one. A young lad was carefully cataloging the party’s goods. Veridian mentioned this to Bartol and went to have a chat with the youth. He told the boy to watch himself.

The priest talked incessantly. But at least he led the party to a nice inn. He also directed Bartol to the only tavern in town, the Flagon Held High.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Bartol called out to the inn as he continued with the party.

The Windlord’s Rest was a very nice place. The owner again was a gnome, Thungor Triblane. He offered the party a very nice room. When he summoned his staff to unload the caravan, Veridian intervened.

“We’ll handle this,” the elf said.

Erik, Bartol, and Veridian unloaded the loot. Thane took his pack to the room. Thane was the first to get ready for the night. He had plans. Everyone guessed what those might be, but no one asked.  Timmay stayed with the other gnomes and chatted away. It was the most the party had ever heard Timmay say. Although most of the conversation was in gnome, so no one knew what they were talking about. Bernedette buried herself in her studies.

After unloading and seeing to Bob, Bartol got ready for a night on the town. He pulled out his finery. The tabard of Torm he hadn’t worn since the tournament and his normal clothing. He took a bath and shaved. The stumble on his head he left alone. He strapped on his fine dagger, bonded longsword, and his peace bond gauntlets. He wasn’t about to break the law and cast one of his spells. Veridian offered to join him, although, the elf didn’t look happy about going.

The Flagon Held High was busy. There were numerous people milling about the front of the place. Veridian took a slight detour to an alleyway to check on things. Bartol followed to relieve himself.

“No use in wasting a trip,” Bartol decided. “Better to go in empty, that way less trips out to the garden.”

There were multiple side doors. As the two companions finally approached the front door, a dwarf was tossed out.

“Next time,” the bouncer yelled. “Pay with real money.”

“Ah,” Bartol relaxed. “I feel more at home now.”


----------



## diaglo

*Bartol the Dragoncrusher*

Veridian face paled.

“I think,” he quickly stammered. “We need to exchange some of our coin. I don’t think they will accept Dales’ talents. They expect crowns. Come with me to the bar.”

“A fellow after my own heart,” Bartol agreed. “The bar is an excellent choice. But I was kinda hoping for a table nearer to the stage.”

They entered the tavern. The place was even more crowded on the inside. Bartol quickly pushed his way to the bar. The din was almost deafening. All conversations were held at a shout.

“Barkeep,” he ordered.  “A glass of wine for my friend and an ale for me.”

“First,” Veridian quickly interjected. “We’d like to exchange some coin.”

“Very well,” the bartender replied.

Bartol handed over a sack of silver coins. The bartender counted them out and slid back the equivalent in Cormyrean coin.

“Keep ‘em coming until we run out,” Bartol said as he turned around. He headed to a table.

“We’ll pay as we go,” Veridian leaned over the bar and took the sack back. He went over to the table and slipped the sack back into Bartol’s belt.

After Veridian sat, Bartol bellowed for another round. 

“I’ve a terrible thirst,” Bartol began. “I’ve just slain a dragon…”

The place fell silent.

“And I’ve got a load of coin burning a hole in my pouches,” Bartol continued to yell. “Oh, but it’s quiet in here all of sudden.”

Bartol had gained the attention of a nearby table of Red garbed adventuring types. A female half elf approached. She had the hide of some red scaly creature as her gauntlets.

"May I join you?” she asked. “I would love to hear of your tale.”

Veridian slapped himself and panicked. He got up and sprinted out of the tavern.


----------



## diaglo

The noise in the tavern resumed. Bartol proudly told of his exploits against the Coin Dragon. The lady was very interested. She asked many questions. She also bought Bartol a few rounds. Bartol didn’t seem to notice that Veridian had left. He was in his own world. He had company and she was interested. She also told Bartol of her own battles with dragons. A red fire-breathing monster, she and her companions had slain. She wore part of its hide as armor now.

Bartol was just getting to the good part of the battle when he heard and saw Timmay.

“I’m so terribly sorry, my lady,” Timmay addressed the female. “Bartol is fond of telling tall tales.”

“Timmay’s much better at this story telling them I am.” Bartol offered.  “Tell her about the Giant or the other Dragon. The one Bernedette saw.” 

Timmay tried to steer the conversation away from the party’s encounters and more towards the triumphs of the Red garbed group. The lady half elf finally got the idea. She excused herself and went back to her table.

Veridian eavesdropped nearby.

“He’s just an idiot barbarian,” she said as she sat down with her friends.

Veridian winked to Timmay. Bernedette and Thane stood by the doorway. Erik had remained behind with the loot.

“Well,” Bernedette said to Thane. “There is only one way to get him out of there without telling all.”  She ripped a slit down the side of her dress and hike it up a bit, exposing some leg. “Wish me luck.”

Thane stood dumbfounded.

Bernedette entered the tavern

“Oh, Bartol,” she called. “Aren’t you going to keep me warm tonight? It is my birthday.”

Bartol’s jaw hit the table. He practically knocked over his drink and any of the furniture nearby in his attempt to leave.

Several other patrons also headed Bernedette’s way and a waitress carrying drinks, too.

“Compliments of the gentlemen at the bar,” the waitress said. In a whisper she said, “We need to talk.”

“Bartol, honey, why don’t you and Thane head back to the inn and get ready for tonight,” Bernedette took the hint. “I’ll catch up.”

Thane was still standing awestruck. Bartol grabbed him and dragged him back to the inn.


----------



## diaglo

*She shook me all night long*

 

Thane was supposed to knock out the barbarian. But somehow he missed the clue. Instead he did as Bernedette had instructed. He helped Bartol prepare for the night's activities. Erik laughed the whole time.

Bernedette in the meantime was shown a familiar ring symbol by the waitress, Alisiar. Bernedette in turn winked to Veridian and Timmay. She then left to the safety of the inn. Or so she was thinking.

Timmay and Veridian cased the joint a little while longer. They saw the waitress signal another patron. It appeared the Cult was active in Tilverton too. Timmay left separate of Veridian.

Veridian also noticed some one watching the Flagon from a nearby window and some familiar rogue markings on a side alleyway.

(I won't go into detail about Bartol and Bernedette, but suffice it to say it is an important part of the story for a later post.)

Bartol raged twice that night.


----------



## Angelsboi

OOC i tired to roll Bluff (Seduction).  I rolled a natural 20.  Bartol rolled a Sense Motive and rolled a natural 1.  It was Fate.


----------



## diaglo

*Shopping trip*

The next morning Timmay called the party together for a meeting.

“Morning,” Bartol chirped. “What a great day it is. Don’t you think.”

“Uhhh, No,” Thane sourly replied. “You made such a racket last night.”

Bartol blushed. Bernedette still hadn’t crawled out from under the covers. In fact she was holding onto them very tight.

“Today, I think we should sell everything,” Timmay ignored the Grin on Bartol’s face. “But we need to be careful. We know the Cult is here. Until we have divided up the shares I don’t think we should separate.”

Bernedette finally crawled out of bed. The party was all business. Everyone told what he or she knew. Veridian offered to find the local broker’s guild, since he was not a part of the caravan share. Bernedette handed him the magical ring jsut in case he needed it.

Timmay knew from his gnome friends all the best places to go. First stop was Dundar’s Fine Blades. Timmay haggled with all his considerable might. The party agreed upon a hefty sum. Dundar didn’t have the funds on hand. So he gave them a token to exchange at the moneychanger. The party also had coins they needed to change. So the moneychanger was the next stop. Timmay tallied up everyone’s share. The party split up.

Bartol went hog wild shopping. He revisited Dundar’s shop. And then he went to the market. And to other places that caught his eye as he wandered about town. He bought better armor, a larger shield, some silvered daggers, some arrows, more rope, winter gear, pouches, a bandoleer, sacks, and a gift for Bernedette, a heavy woolen cloak in blue with a crescent moon, the true sign of a cleric of Corellon Larethian. As night approached he headed back to the inn. He still had a lot of money left over. He wanted some potions and holy water. But that would have to wait.

Meanwhile, the others were busy too. Veridian had paid a visit to Phidalpar Undreir, a local fence. He learned much about trouble headed the party’s way. When he left he ran into Bartol momentarily to warn him and to get directions to the others. Thane visited the grove to Silvanus. He left his pack here for the coming days. Thane knew that Bernedette and Timmay would be spending several days working on their spell books. Timmay and Bernedette visited the Tower of Wits and Work. The wizardess, Filani, came highly recommended. They spent some time there, enough time in fact for Veridian to find them. He told them of the trouble and set off to the Purple Dragon’s barracks. He purchased a temporary adventuring charter before going back to the inn. Erik had returned to the inn. He had everything he needed. Eventually everyone returned.


----------



## the Jester

Wow, Bartol and Bernadette...

I'm thunderstruck. 

Whoda thunkit!


----------



## Angelsboi

trust me.  We were all shocked.  Glenn said this session would be scary.  Boy was he right.


----------



## Angelsboi

i should also point out that while Timmay and Bernedette were at the tower seeking the advice of the sage, Bernedette found out that her parents where no longer on the Prime Material Plane.

The plot thickens =)


----------



## diaglo

Timmay and/or Bernedette are you gonna post your interpretations of the bar scene or should i just continue with the story?

i know you both mentioned this.


----------



## biorph

AH HA!, now I may have to post Veridian in the cast of characters.


----------



## Angelsboi

((oops!!  I thought you were gonna finish!  We;; here ya go!))

Lies.  All lies.  This is what *really* happened ... 

Bartol decided to go to the Flagon Held High while Thane did some of his business, Timmay talked to the gnome propriator and I researched my spell, ya know, the one that will grow hair back.

Well we sent the new elf guy (and if i hear one more elf joke, i swear something from another plane will be called forth) to babysit Bartol.  If you wanna be a part of our group, you have to prove your worth and babysitting the barbarian is deffinately proving your worth.

So anyway, i hear someone shout 'Timmay!' and i thought we were going into battle.  I look outside and see the new guy, Veridian, running down the street, followed by little Timmay.  I run downstairs and run into Thane as he's coming out of Grimwald's Revenge.  We look at each other and know instantly Bartol is in trouble.  Veridian came and got help from Timmay because he couldn't control Bartol.  He truly is one of us.

We arrive at the tavern to see Bartol talking it up with some woman flashing gloves made of red dragon scales.  Her companions are also wearing red and call themselves the Company of Dragon Slayers.  It appears theres two of us slayers in town.  It appears our barbarian told the group about us being in the Thunderpeaks and about the dragon we slayed.  We all tried to get him to shut up and no avail.  I had to do the only thing i could.  He is 20 years old and 20 year old guys want one thing more than treasure or ale.

I ripped the side of my dress to my high thigh.  He was astounded.  I told Bartol he would get some if he went back to the room and waited for me.  I tried to get Thane to knock him out but i guess Thane's response is 'If he aint getting any, one of us should be.'

We stopped Bartol from telling all of our secrets and we discovered the cult of Moander in town, thanks to the ring i wear that hides wether im good or evil.  I trudged back to the room to find Bartol all nice and clean and waiting.  I cant believe i lost my virginity to Bartol on my 17th birthday.  

At least the next day he still talked to me and even bought me a dark blue cloak with a silver crescent moon, the symbol of Corellion Larethion, the god i worship.  He truly does know me.  The next day we found out the young girl from the Flagon Held High (who approached me about Moander) was murdered, her throat slashed.  The guards found out, from Bartol of course, that we had a connection to her and he wanted to speak with Bartol.  To get him out of trouble, i came to the rescue once again.

I told the guard he had an alibi and it was me.  The party attested to this and told them how we 'celebrated' my birthday.  He asked if anyone else not from the party could confirm our story.  We told him to ask those in rooms around us.

Thats what *really* happened.


----------



## diaglo

*Unrequited Love*

“We need a plan,” Erik said as everyone finally put away their new things. “Veridian believes we are going to be visited this evening by a gang of thieves.”

Veridian retold his news. Thane, Timmay, and Erik added some ideas for strategy.

“I’m never going to get my hair back,” Bernedette cried. “I need 3 days to finish my research and part of another to identify some of our items.”

Bartol’s bubble burst. “She’s never going to care for me as much as she does those books,” he thought. He looked at the pages of his spellbook. The one Bernedette had helped him create. The one from which he was learning to read. “Maybe if my spellbook had some new magic…”

The basic plan was to watch and wait. Veridian found a hiding place. Erik guarded the door. And Thane, Timmay, Bernedette, and Bartol took turns looking out the window or resting. The night crept by very slowly.

Everyone had dozed off. When a shout was heard. And the light outside seemed to be too bright

Bartol got up and started putting on his gear. Bernedette helped him. When the last buckle was in place Bartol grabbed his shield and went for the door.

“No, not the door,” Thane grumbled. “They are probably waiting for us in the hallway.”

“Fire… stable…” someone on the street shouted again.

“Fire,” Bartol shouted. “Bob. I must save Bob.”

Bartol turned, braced his shield, and charged out the window. Bernedette briefly grabbed him, but remembered they were on the ground floor. So she let him go. She quickly followed.


----------



## diaglo

*Out of the Frying pan and into the Fire*

The fire raged stronger than anything in Bartol’s blood. He plunged into the stables and headlong into a cloud of smoke.

“Bo…b…b,” Bartol coughed.

He opened a stall and shooed the horse out. He turned to the next stall and did likewise. The flames climbed and the roof burned unchecked. Bartol didn’t have much time. He ran to the next set of stalls.

“B…art……o….” Bernedette started to say. She coughed and stumbled.

Bartol grabbed the last horse and started back for the entrance. He helped Bernedette outside. A bucket brigade had formed. They were mostly woman and children. Although the watch had been called. Bartol laid Bernedette beside the well and went back for more. 

He launched a bucket full onto the roof. Bernedette came alongside him.  

“They can handle this,” Bernedette said. “We must go back and help the others.” She turned and ran.

Bartol swore. He tossed another bucket full of water and sped after the young caller. The Purple Dragons had arrived.

Bartol soon caught up. As the two lovers entered the inn again by way of the front door, Bernedette saw a battle in progress. A female stranger, Veridian, Thane and Erik were scattered in the hallway. Two other strangers lay dead on the floor. Bartol ran passed Bernedette to aid the others. From a side room a rapier struck his shield. Veridian reacted to the attacker and tumbled into the room.

Timmay emerged from the party’s room and mumbled in draconic, “I’m the gnome.” The attacker froze. 

Bartol dropped his shield drew his GreatSword and took the head off his opponent. He then turned to the last stranger. He advanced.

“Calm down, big boy,” Bernedette whispered as she grabbed his arm. “Save that energy for later.”


----------



## diaglo

*Caught in the act*

It was true. Timmay had the strange woman completely enthralled. The others began to search the bodies.

“Fire,” Bartol remembered. “The stables are still on fire.”

Although, he now had lost some of us strength, he turned and went back to the stables. His anger always seemed to leave him weakened afterwards.

Forty or so people battled the blaze. Bartol went up to a man in armor shouting orders.

“Where can I find the leader of these Dragons?” Bartol asked.

“I am the Commander,” the man replied. “I’m busy. Grab a bucket or get out of the way.”

Bartol ignored the orders. “This was all a distraction. We were set upon by thieves. We slew 3 of them.”

This got the Commander’s attention. He ordered his subordinate to take over with the fire and followed Bartol back to the room.

“That makes 4 murders,” the Commander said as he walked, “this night.”

They arrived at the room. Timmay was interrogating the “guest.”

“We didn’t murder anyone.” Bartol retorted. “Who else was slain?”

“When is defending yourself murder?” Thane rejoined.

Timmay had the "guest" tell all to the Commander. As the Commander was taking the prisoner away, he turned to Bartol.

“I don’t have to answer your questions, but I’m interested to find out why you are curious. The fourth victim was found in an alley by…”

“The Flagon Held High,” Bartol finished his sentence. “Her name was Alisiar. She was a waitress, barmaid at the establishment. Either her throat was cut or she was poisoned or both.”

“Yes,” the Commander gasped. “Where were you last night? And how do you know so much?”


----------



## Angelsboi

pardon the bad double entandra but wait till you see how tight his alibi is ...


----------



## diaglo

*Cherry picking.*

“I went to the Flagon Held High with Veridian,” Bartol confessed. “Alisiar was our waitress. But I didn’t stay very long. I had a better offer.” Bartol winked.

Everyone turned to Bernedette. She blushed.

“I was with Bartol last night,” Bernedette whispered.

“Speak up,” the Commander ordered. “It sounded like you said you had relations with the barbarian.”

“I did,” Bernedette said a little louder. She was bright red with embarrassment. Under her breath she added, "I lost my virginity."

“And they were pretty loud about it,” Thane chimed in. “Just ask our neighbors or Thungor.”

“I will,” the Commander replied. “Don’t go anywhere.” He left with the prisoner.

A few minutes later he returned with a couple of his men. They helped cart off the bodies of the dead thieves.

“Your story checks out,” the Commander said. “But I don’t want you going far. Will you be staying here for a few more days?”

“Of course,” Timmay answered. “There is no better inn in all of Tilverton.”

The Commander followed his men out.

“Looks like we have some more things to sell,” Erik broke in.


----------



## diaglo

*3 days and 3 nights*

The inn was now safe. Although the roof to the stables was ruined, Thungor reported it would hold. So the horses were returned. It started to sleet. The party got ready for bed.

Bartol edged closer to Bernedette. “Can we try that again?” he asked.

“Not tonight, lover,” Bernedette replied. “I’m still too sore and besides I need to get some rest to prepare my magic tomorrow.”

Bartol was stunned. But he too was also exhausted. The smoke had filled his lungs and taken a lot out of him.

The next morning, Timmay led Bartol, Veridian, and Erik out to sell their newly acquired things. They visited Veridian’s fence and got a decent price. Timmay doled out the coins. Erik went back to the inn to pay Bernedette and Thane their share. Veridian went back to the street to gather some more information. 

Timmay and Bartol went Temple hopping. Bartol started at the Temple to Helm. Timmay visited Gond’s house of worship. Bartol met Timmay there. They then went to the Rose Temple of Lathander. They figured Thane had Silvanus covered. A very happy and interesting meeting happened at the Rose.

Valgrim resurfaced. Bartol lifted the priest off his feet.

“Oh,” Bartol said as he put Valgrim down, “it is good to see you are still alive. We had no way of knowing if the hobgoblin assassin had done you in. Or if you had fallen prey to other creatures.”

“Lathander watches over me,” Valgrim replied. “I answered his call to return to service. I will be here if you should ever wish to visit me again.”

Timmay and Bartol left shortly afterward. Both were very happy.

Bernedette spent the next 3 days in research. Timmay also spent time with his studies, but most hours were at the Tower of Wits and Work with a certain female wizardess. Erik roamed about town. Thane sought some herbs and other items from local shops and the Grove. Bartol worked on his spellbook and cared for the horses. Veridian was busy. Very busy.


----------



## biorph

it should be noted that I was actually busy, unlike some party members who were Busa, with a capitol B.


----------



## diaglo

*The rogue done good...*

After the 3 days were up, Bernedette came into the common room of the inn. She was giddy. She had a full head of red hair. She mumbled some words and touched Timmay’s head. His blond mane returned. Next she approached Erik. Erik waved her off. He had gone for the bald look. Over the last few days he had shaven his head again.

“Bartol, Dear,” she cooed. “I’m sorry I haven’t paid more attention to you.” She rubbed her hands over his crown. Bartol’s thick brown coif grew. She added red highlights.

“Enough,” Veridian interrupted. “There is much you should know.”

Veridian told everyone of his last 3 days adventures. Tonight Bernedette was to meet alone with an agent interested in the magical Moandite ring. Bartol offered to go with her. So did the others. Veridian begged off. He had other things to see to. After the recap Veridian left.

“I don’t like this,” Thane blurted. “How well do we know this Veridian?”

“He’s alright,” Erik spoke up. “His heart’s in the right place. And he has helped us. None of us would’ve gotten the information he just provided.”

“That’s what I mean,” Thane continued. “Nevermind. We will know more tonight.”

Bernedette had also been busy identifying some of the party’s goods. They had a potion of Bull strength, a potion of inflict wounds, a potion of cure moderate wounds, and a wand of protection from good with a few charges. They still had a potion of transmutation, 3 potions of illusion, a potion of conjuration, and Hoardmaster to identify. Though, Bernedette didn’t have the time or the components. Timmay had a new friend. 

“Say hello to my little friend,” Timmay said as he reached into his pocket.  “This is Smacks.”

The party prepared for the evening. Bernedette stood in the detailed alleyway. Bartol hung in the shadows nearby with Erik. A man sized figure approached.

Everyone tensed. A bowstring plucked and a whistle was heard.


----------



## Angelsboi

Yes, _Bernedette's Beautiful Boufant_ is completed.  Its a 0 level spell that allows the caster to regrow hair in any style and color.  Bernedette had black hair, now she has red.

And yes, She is growing fond of Bartol.  Her barbarian in ... raw hides.


----------



## diaglo

update after this Sunday.


----------



## diaglo

*The strangers you meet in a dark alley*

Since the season was changing, dusk came earlier and earlier. It was the time when most businesses and people were finished for the day. It was also the time when most rogues or other nefarious beings were just getting started. It was the time for the party to be worried. They were in the alley behind their inn. As they had been instructed. A figure approached them.

An arrow sped out of the night. It was directed at Bernedette. Her attention was on the stranger staggering towards her and the party. Luckily, she was not alone. Thane threw himself in the way of the arrow. He hoped his hide armor would prevent the assassin from striking true. And lucky for Thane and Bernedette, Erik was even better armored. The tank moved even faster. The arrow deflected off the heavy mail.

“It’s an ambush,” Bernedette screamed. “Timmay, we need you.”

Bartol saw the sniper. A cloaked figure dressed in black armed with a bow and a quiver full of arrows. The figure was perched on the opposite rooftop. Bartol sprang to the building and leapt for the overhang. He tried to pull himself up and onto the roof. Thane also reacted. He summoned his magical ball of fire and cast it aloft. It struck the figure. The figure fired two quick shots at the party. Neither found flesh. Erik fired an arrow over the figure's shoulder. Bernedette also launched a bolt into the night.

A great crash was heard. The window adjacent to the other figure in the alley burst a sunder. And a dwarf climbed out.

“By Great Moradin’s Hammer,” the dwarf cried out.

The other figure in the alley staggered forward. It appeared to be a man. He was clutching his face. He collided with the dwarf. The dwarf quickly examined the man. He muttered some strange words in dwarven. Magic.

"What have you done now?" Timmay muttered as he climbed out of the party's window and into the alley.

Bartol tried again to gain the rooftop. He slipped and fell. Thane prepared some more magic for the sniper. But the figure downed a potion and vanished. Although the light from Thane's fire magic was still lighting the sky.  Erik and Bernedette turned their attention to the other occupants of the alley. The dwarf continued to tend to the man's injuries. For he was injured. He was missing his eyes and his tongue.

Bartol brought his shield around for cover. He reached up and dragged Bernedette to him. Thane, Erik, and Timmay watched as the light of Thane's magic vanished over the rooftop. Bernedette couldn't decide if the dwarf and the man were friend or foe. She thought to immobilize them. She cast her magic at the feet. A slurry of thick grease had the man falling and the dwarf wondering.

"What are you doing Missy?" the dwarf asked.


----------



## diaglo

*The Rogue's true colours revealed*

"Who are you?" Timmay asked nicely. "I heard you speak of Moradin. And I see by your arms and armor you venerate his teachings. I’m Timmay Schepen of Glen. And these are my boon companions.”

“Well met,” the dwarf replied. “I know your family. I’m Ulfgar of Moradin. I’m also from Glen. But this is no place to stand and talk of such pleasant meetings.”

The party quickly scanned for the sniper again. Thane and Ulfgar took the injured man inside the inn. Thungor approached.

“What’s this all about?” the innkeeper asked turning towards Ulfgar. “Who will pay for the damage you’ve caused?”

Veridian came in behind the party, slightly winded. Bartol turned to Bernedette and made a gesture at the rogue’s sudden appearance. Bernedette shrugged.

“This man is injured,” Timmay began. “Someone’s dug out his eyes and cut out his tongue.”

“These,” Veridian interrupted holding out his hand. “He is the proprietor of Grimwold’s Revenge. He is the man I was to meet.”

Bernedette blanched. Bartol pulled her aside. 

“I’m starting to get more suspicious of our new elven friend,” Bartol whispered. “He wants the ring you carry. He has been leering at HoardMaster. And he set up the meeting. There is more, but I don’t want him to know that we know.”
Bernedette nodded her understanding.

The main conversation continued for a few more minutes. Veridian flung 5 gold pieces at Thungor. The party was leaving.  By all indication they were headed to the Temple of the Wonderbringer. Ulfgar was travelling with them. Bernedette and Bartol hurried to catch up.


----------



## diaglo

*We done nothing wrong*

Ulfgar and Thane helped their patient as best they could.

"His name is Hasantasser Bloodshoulder," Veridian told everyone.

"I know," Thane responded. "He has a knack of turning his enemies into frogs. No offense Smacks."

Erik, Timmay, and Veridian watched  the street for any more attackers. Bartol and Bernedette watched the rogue.

"A patrol of Purple Dragons is headed our way," Erik noted.

Bartol broke off from the group and approached the patrol.

"D'oh," Bernedette muttered and ran to catch him.

The others hurried on their way. Bartol saw that Veridian looked relieved to see the patrol wasn't following the main group.

"Halt," a guardsman shouted. "Who goes there?"

"I'm so glad we found you," Bernedette started before Bartol could speak.

"And why is that?" a more important looking Dragon, a sergeant by his uniform, asked. "And why are you out so late?"

"We've lost our way...

"We've been set upon by an assassin," Bartol blurted out, "just outside our room at the Windlord's Rest."

"And why didn't you report this," the sergeant inquired?

"I am...

"We were just about to," Bernedette finished. "He got away."

"You are not citizens of Cormyr." the sergeant stated. "So why do you wear your weapons so openly."

"We are a chartered Adventuring Company," Bartol retorted. "Our friend Timmay has our charter. He has just taken an injured man to the Temple of Gond."

"You must come with us," the sergeant commanded. "We will look into this."

"And the attack?" Bernedette hinted.

"Very well," the sergeant relented. "Take us to the scene. We will then need you to come with us to the constabulary. All things in their due course."


----------



## biorph

hmmm, true colors, ... ahh but if only you knew. ;D

BTW I only found one eye.


----------



## diaglo

*Bartol clears his conscience...*

Bartol and Bernedette returned to the ambush site. They reenacted their parts. The sergeant had his men search for evidence. He also sent a part of the patrol to the Temple of Gond. The Purple Dragons recovered some of the missiles fired during the attack. The sergeant pointed out a very nasty looking substance on one of the arrows. He also questioned Thungor. Too many unanswered questions, too many leads. Eventually the sergeant grew tired of going around in circles with Bartol and Bernedette. The two lovers bickered or huffed about every word spoken to or against the sergeant. Bartol was just trying to be helpful. He had nothing to hide. Bernedette felt otherwise. She indicated the ring on her finger.

The patrol took the adventurers to the constabulary. They were led to a small room and left. They were not unarmed, but they were not free to move about either.

"I don't trust our thief," Bartol finally stated plainly. "Too many unpleasant things have happened since his appearance. Timmay is a  naive fool. Veridian joined us conveniently  at the border. He convinced Timmay to tell him everything. He noticed or contacted the thief inside the gate. He tagged along with me to the Flagon Held High. He followed Alisiar, the waitress, after she left for the evening. He told us of the first ambush. My guess is it was a distraction, while his other agent killed the girl. He has been after your ring from the beginning. And he has been leering over Hoard Master. He is an elf, which by itself means nothing, but since we have met other not so friendly elves this just makes for something more to watch. He is rather rude or abrupt with most people. He has a strange growth on his neck. He wears all black and is a talented bowman and rogue. I suspect he could easily have disguised himself.  He arranged our meeting in the alley. He claimed to have other business. The person he was to contact ends up in the alley with us, missing his eyes and tongue. Veridian had them. Were they trophies and he was showing off his prowess?"

Bernedette's jaw dropped. "How can you say such things? And for that matter how come they make sense and are reasonable conclusions? Although we need evidence. Everything you just said is circumstantial or conjecture."

"I'm a man of action," Bartol replied. "That doesn't mean I don't pay attention. Though, it does mean sometimes I ignore what my good sense tells me." The barbarian winked at the caller.

She blushed.

Bartol kept talking. “And another thing, how do we know Alisiar was evil. Perhaps she was an agent of another organization. Say she was a friend of the Bard, Jhaer Brightsong.  Maybe, we were being tested. Not everyone who is sneaky is evil.”


----------



## diaglo

*They haven't built a gaol yet...*

Bartol paced. When the door finally opened, Bernedette let out a big sigh.  Timmay, Erik, Thane, Veridian, and Ulfgar entered along with a war wizard and the sergeant. Everyone spoke at once. The war wizard held up his hand.

“I will ask you a simple question,” he began. “What other business do you have left in Tilverton?”

“Thane?” Timmay whispered.

“None,” Thane replied to the wizard. A little lower he mentioned to Timmay “I don’t feel Chauntea’s pull on me here anymore.”

“Well then,” the wizard finished. “The High Priest of Gond says Hasantasser will be able to respond to some questioning tomorrow. Afterwards I suggest...”

“We will be more than happy to oblige you,” Bartol smirked.

The sergeant showed them the way out. But instructed them to return to the Temple of Gond in the morning. The party chatted the whole way back to the inn. Erik remained his vigilant self. Timmay filled in Bartol and Bernedette about the findings at the Temple. Alisiar body was there. The High Priest had spoken to her departed soul. She was not an evil spirit. But she was also not telling all. Bartol waited for Veridian to get a little ahead. He then told Timmay about all his suspicions. Timmay clucked and shook his head. It seemed Timmay was already ahead of the game.

Veridian had told another story to Timmay. When he had gone to Grimwold’s Revenge for his meeting with Hassantasser, all he had discovered was a bloody mess. After a brief search he had found an eye and tongue. He thought if things were bad for him they would be worse for the party. So he had run back in all haste, only to arrive too late.

Ulfgar tagged along wondering just how he had gotten himself into this mess. The majority of the party he was convinced were just plain crazy. But he did admire Timmay’s way with words and Bartol’s appreciation of weapons. Moradin knew they needed his guidance.


----------



## diaglo

*Kicked out of town*

When the party returned to the Windlord's Rest, Timmay did his best to help Ulfgar retain his room. Thungor was not too happy with the dwarf. Nor was he overly friendly with Veridian. Thane was absent briefly. He stopped by the grove to pay his respects and to collect his wolves. Bartol saw to the horses.

Finally, the party settled in for the night. Several Purple Dragons were seen patrolling outside the window and inside the common room. They gathered all the things they would need for a hasty retreat. They paid their bill before bedding down.

In the morning, Ulfgar met the party in the common room. He had prepared a few spells for the Dwarven Inquisition. No one would suspect the dwarf.  He also at Bernedette's request scanned the room for any taint of evil. Only the ring in the caller's hand registered. She quickly handed it to Veridian. The rogue was not evil, but he still got his wish. The ring was his. He smiled as he put it on. Though, Erik still had Hoard Master.

Some time during the night, Veridian had returned to Grimwold's Revenge. A young lady was tending to the affairs while Hassantasser was away. She claimed to be his daughter.  A patrol escorted the party to the Temple of Gond. Many citizens of Tilverton gawked at the procession.

The High Priest had down his best, but the information broker was still not whole. He was whole enough, however, to answer questions. Several higher ranking officers and the war wizard were also in attendance, as well as, a sharply dressed citizen.

"Who are you?" Bartol blurted out.

"I, sir, am the Lord Mayor," she replied. "High Priest, if you would."

The party groaned.

The High Priest stepped forward and cast a zone of truth around the occupants of the area.

"No lie may be told while you stay here," he mentioned.

"Goodie," Bernedette squealed with glee. "Oh, Bartol. Do you love me?"

"Aaaaa, ummmm, ...." Bartol stammered and turned red with embarrassment. 

Timmay saved the barbarian. He went to town with the questioning. He asked the injured man about the attacks, about the information the party sought, about his daughter, and  about the cult. He also directed the others when to chime in. It was beautiful music. Unfortunately, it was little more than filler. The party only learned one thing. Hassantassar didn't have a daughter. But  mostly the answers placed more blame on the party for the mysterious troubles of late.

"It appears," the Lord Mayor announced. "That the guild is once again active."

"The Fire Knives?" an officer asked.

"Perhaps," Bartol offered. "We can handle them for you?"

"This is our affair," the Lord Mayor said. "The Purple Dragons will see to it. I suggest..."

"We are way ahead of you," Erik answered.

"Ulfgar," Timmay proposed. "Will you join us? We have need of a dwarf and a healer. And since you are both, we are doubly blessed."

And with that the party left Tilverton.


----------



## Angelsboi

YAY!  Bartol *does* love Bernie!


----------



## diaglo

*A time to reflect and a time to chat*

The trip from Tilverton was pleasant. Although, the season was definitely shifting. Everyone tried to make Ulfgar feel as welcome as possible. Timmay filled him in on the party's misadventures, enemies, friends, and the layout of the hidden forge. They also spoke of common associates and places in Glen. The party bypassed the border tower without so much as a by your leave. And then they were in the Thunder Peaks again. Thane and Bartol provided for the party along the way. 

Timmay had traded his mount in for a riding dog, Marmaduke. Ulfgar was similarly mounted. While Bernedette, Bartol, and Thane rode on horseback. Erik rode Alrissian's warhorse. And Veridian used Erik's old roan. The wolves and the dogs made an almost perfect pack. Thane was always comfortable when he bedded down. Bernedette and Bartol had returned to the normal routine of adventurers. Both knew it was necessary to survive.  But whenever time permitted they would have idle conversation of a more intimate nature. Veridian had done well for himself so far with the party. Of the party's few items of magic, he had garnered at least one, the ring. Thane and Bernedette each sported a wand. And Erik held the party's trophy, Hoard Master. Thane also had another new purchase, an ever-glowing lantern, and his cudgel. And Bartol was decked out in a variety of new weapons and potions. He and Ulfgar spent time discussing the merits of various metals and other materials in the forging of the weapons. Ulfgar was impressed by Bartol’s dwarven made longsword.

The fact that the trip was so uneventful made it even more useful for several reasons. It helped alleviate the worries Bartol was having concerning Veridian. Bartol even apologized to Veridian for his paranoia. Veridian said he hadn't noticed. The trip helped settle watch and marching orders in cases of trouble. It also helped everyone see how they could best help the group. And everyone knew what the other was thinking when it came time to face the real dangers. But some things it didn’t change.

Thane still had his geas. Bernedette still wanted to clear the Elven temple. Bartol still wanted to return Duergeddin's works to Glen, as well as impress the Riders. Timmay still wanted to improve his collection of spells and books. Erik still wanted...well no one was really sure what Erik wanted. But he seemed to be having fun.


----------



## diaglo

*Hi honey, We're home...*

The first thing Bartol did as the party climbed the hillside to Mug's Teeth was check for new tracks. Nothing new in the last tenday or so. So the party climbed to the entrance. A small pile of out of place stones greeted them.

"What's this?" Bernedette asked.

"An old trail trick," Thane replied as he bent down to examine the pile. He pulled out a note and read it aloud.

"Fought off another patrol. No new sign of hobgoblins for 3 days. Gone to scout around the perimeter. I'll be back. Alrissian."

Thane guessed the note was less than a few days old. He scrawled a return message and put it back.

Bartol strapped on his shield and swords and approached the first turn. He watched for any movement from the arrow slits. He scouted ahead.

"All clear," Bartol said as he came back.

Everyone gathered their things. They left the wolves and dogs to guard the horses. The secret door was closed anyway. And no one felt like carrying the animals across the rope bridge.

Bartol strung a belaying line across and crossed first. The others soon followed. Ulfgar and Erik had to take their armor off to insure their safe crossing. Once on the other side, Thane pulled out his lantern. Bartol lit his as well. He dangled it from a loop at his belt, so the bullseye pointed one way and then another. Eventualy Timmay got tired of shadow puppet show and offered to carry it. The group went directly for the old door with the fire trap.

Ulfgar approached Veridian. He mumbled a few words to Moradin. "This will protect you some from the fire. Just in case."

"Now, I think I can help," Veridian smiled. He pulled a series of poles out and tied himself off. Soon he was aloft on the stilts. He approached the door. Everyone else stood way back.


----------



## diaglo

*The Lamest show on Oerth...Aber-Toril*

Besides the stilts, Veridian had a third pole to poke around in front of himself. Timmay got a strange idea. He mumbled a little under his breath. Suddenly a strange ghostly melody could be heard. Rumpp...bumppp....da...da..da..
da...Rump....pump....pa...

Bernedette took the cue and reached into her spell pouch. She began to juggle.

"Step right up ladies and gentlemen," Thane added.

Ulfgar shook his head. He asked for Moradin's guidance. He also cast a spell on himself. His skin gained a slight blue tinge. He strode past the rogue and up to the fire trapped door.

The music and the party stopped and scattered.

Ulfgar gave a slight grunt and pushed the door open. The chamber made a loud clanging sound and then a hiss. Nothing else happened.

"Ha," Erik laughed. He walked up behind the rogue and pushed him over. "Going down."

Veridian as gracefully as possible rolled to his rump. He would've tumbled, but the stilts were still attached.

Everyone else began to laugh. The room beyond was clear of any occupants and danger. Several large chambers with pipes leading to the door were all that remained of the trap. It was used up.

Bartol grew tired of the waiting. He strode off to the only tunnel the party had yet to explore, the way down. Bernedette hurried to catch up. Several feet into the descent Bartol heard water falling. He also noticed the passage sloped and was damp. Not a good place to walk without some protection. He pulled out his rope and began to tie himself off. Bernedette did likewise. The rest of the party moved past the two of them. Veridian and Ulfgar took the lead.; followed by Timmay and Erik with the lantern; then Thane with his light; and finally Bernedette and Bartol.

"It's slick you might consider some precautions," Bartol mentioned. "You could tie off with us?"

No one paid him any heed.


----------



## diaglo

*Gone fishing...*

The party descended for many minutes. The sound of the rushing water got louder. And the air in the cave got more moist. Finally they came to a fork in the tunnel. To the left a stream cut thru the rock. It was possible to walk the path but it was very treacherous. The way ahead continued to descend. Veridian scouted a few feet into the tunnel on the left. He turned back.

The party elected to continue descending. The tunnel opened into a large cavern. Another stream cut thru the center. The water was very fast flowing. It ran from North to South. Where the stream came in from the North, another scan showed a steep climb. Most of the armored party wouldn't fit. There were two more passages on the other side of the stream. Where the stream exited the cavern in the South, it appeared the dwarf or gnome might be able to pass. Ulfgar volunteered to check it out. Bartol tied the dwarf off on the rope.

"Give a strong yank on the line, if you want us to pull you back," Bartol said.

"Just watch out for any large cave trout," Thane chuckled.

"We've got the wrong bait for that," Erik added. "Halfling is recommended with a stronger test line."

Ulfgar took the plunge. The water came up to his beard. As he continued, however, he had to lean his head back to gasp for air. He was soon out of sight.

Erik, Bernedette, Thane, and Bartol waited for the dwarf's signal. Timmay held the lantern so everyone could see. Veridian scouted around with his bow drawn. He covered the 2 passages on the far side.

Time crept by very slowly.

"Do you think he's alright?" Bernedette asked. "You don't think he's drown or was struck unconscious, do you?"

"We'll give him a few more minutes," Thane agreed, "and then we'll haul him back."

As the party prepared to pull their new and unfortunately dead, or at least that was what they were thinking, companion back; the rope went taut.

"We've caught ourselves a big one," Erik screamed as he pulled. The others helped.

Ulfgar came up sputtering, "Draconians."


----------



## diaglo

*Anyone want to skinnydip...*

"Are you hurt?" Bernedette asked.

"No," Ulfgar replied as he was extracted from the water. "But one of them did throw a javelin at me."

"Which way do you think will get us to them?" Bartol questioned. "Did you see any other exits? How many of them..."

"Slow down," Timmay jumped in the conversation. "Let Ulfgar talk."

"I believe I saw 2 of them," Ulfgar finally added. "They are human size, but lizard like. And boy does something reek in that cave. I didn't see any other exits. But I did see a couple dead hobgoblins. They looked like they were dressed for dinner. And they were the main course. One of the lizards hurled a javelin at me. They both had several strapped to their backs."

"Trogs," Bartol murmured.

"Big kobolds, if you ask me." Timmay grinned. "I am so going to love this."

Bartol rolled up his rope. The party headed across the stream and to the passage closer to the South. After quick bend and they found themselves in a much larger cavern. This one glowed with a green iridescence. The party was on a shelf looking down on most of the cavern floor. It was covered in a fungi. On the shelf with them were 23 dwarven sepulchres.  Most were unmarked or unremarkable. Three, however, did contain the names of the occupants’ remains. Ulfgar said a prayer to Moradin for the fallen.

"Now which way?" Timmay asked.

"Up here," Veridian replied. "I've found a smaller tunnel. It leads into the next chamber."

Ulfgar scurried inside. With his vision he could see so much more of the chamber. A pool of water was 10 feet below. Blind white cave fish swam in the pool. Bartol joined him with a lantern. He secured his grapnel and  tossed his rope down. Ulfgar tried to lean out on the rope and swing to a ledge. Bartol helped him swing. Clang, clang, clang, thud.

"I hope they aren't in this chamber," Veridian noted. "You make enough noise to stir the dead."

Bernedette looked back at the sepulchres. Bartol, Bernedette, Veridian, and Thane soon followed the dwarf. Thane had jumped right into the water. It was not too deep for the taller party members. As Timmay was taking hold of the line. Everyone paused. A strong stench wafted  in. Bernedette and Veridian began to retch.

"I think we've found them," Thane commented.


----------



## diaglo

*George of the jungle and his cronies*

“We come in Peace,” Bernedette bellowed into the dark in Draconic. “Make love, not War.”

There was no reply. Ulfgar summoned a magic hammer. He then charged around the edge of the water and into the chamber. He could see the 2 trogs. And they him. They each hurled a javelin and leveled a spear. Bartol set down his lantern and drew his sword and shield as he moved into position. Bernedette barely cast a spell. Her warrior's armor soon covered her vulnerable parts. Thane also cast a spell. An orb of flame appeared in his hand. He struck one of the lizards. Veridian fired an arrow. But he was still very weak from the effects of the smell. Timmay and Erik were stranded up on the ledge. Erik followed Thane’s earlier lead and jumped into the water. The heavily armored warrior made quite a splash. Timmay became a sniper. He fired and reloaded his crossbow from the safety of the ledge. Why not, he had  a height advantage. He had cover while he remained prone. And he could easily reload and fire the crossbow without suffering trouble from his surroundings. Timmay was no dummy. His bolt struck the other trog.

The trogs didn’t realize they were outclassed and outgunned. They were just defending their home. Or perhaps they were fighting a delaying action, while reinforcements arrived. Ulfgar struck his burned opponent with his warhammer. His magic hammer still didn't strike true. The trog adjusted his position to make his longspear more effective. The trog’s attack struck the ground to the side of the dwarf. The other trog buried his spear into Bartol. Not a good idea. Bartol’s anger drove him forward. Bartol’s blade went into the lizard’s shoulder and out its side. He struck with a ferocity that should’ve killed the creature. But it didn’t.  The trog lost the use of one arm and bled from the area of flesh that dangled. Bernedette barely missed Ulfgar with her crossbow bolt. Thane tossed another ball of fire into the melee. It sailed over the combatants. Veridian’s arrow ended the suffering for Bartol’s foe. Erik waded out of the water and to the shore. Timmay also fired into the fray.

Ulfgar took a step forward and a swing at the trog. It dropped its spear and ran out of sight of most of the combatants. Only Ulfgar could see where it went. The magic hammer went after the trog. Bartol moved to the dwarf’s side. Part of the group filtered forward.

“Ahaaahhahhhaaa,” Timmay grabbed the rope and swung out.

“Geronimo,” Veridian gleefully shrieked. The elf plopped into the pool like a cork. He began to swim across the deeper part.

“They’re coming,” Ulfgar cried out. Three new trogs had entered the battle. Bartol had yet to quench his ire.


----------



## diaglo

*Dragonslayers*

Bartol charged one of the trogs, narrowly avoiding the longspear set for him. He slashed the creature. Again the wound was gruesome, but not fatal. The trog could do little to get his spear to thrust.  The other two trogs surrounded Ulfgar. Neither could penetrate the heavy armor. Ulfgar waded in with his hammer. He landed a glancing blow. Thane fired yet another ball of fire. This one struck the trog to Ulfgar's right. Bernedette cast another spell. In front of her an image of Correlon appeared. Erik finished Bartol's opponent. However, there wasn't another near enough for him to catch on the follow through. Veridian and Timmay headed for drier ground.

Bartol closed on the trogs. One of the trogs tried to stab him. But Bartol moved to the side and threatened with his sword. He couldn’t get close enough to land a blow. The trogs repositioned. If nothing else they at least had worked together in combat before. But their spears were no match for the dwarven metal. Ulfgar hammered away. Thane brought his cudgel into play. And that left only one. Bernedette thought to use her longsword. But decided against it. She fired a crossbow bolt into the trog. Erik blocked the trog’s retreat. And Veridian fired the last shot in the battle. An arrow protruded from one of the trog’s eye sockets as it fell. Timmay moved to the center of the light sources. Bartol’s lantern was still by the side of the pool and Thane’s lantern was in his free hand.

“There’s a door this way,”  Ulfgar said as he ran to the far end of the chamber.

“These guys are tougher than I thought,” Bartol said to the air. He set down his shield, sheathed his longsword, and prepared to draw his Grandfather’s Greatsword. But he noticed that Ulfgar was beyond the range of his sight. So he lit a torch and went to stand watch with the dwarf. The others had returned to the pool side.

A few moments later, Verdian yelled the party’s War Cry, “TIIIMMMMAAYYY.”

“Have you got this?” Bartol asked Ulfgar.

The dwarf nodded.

Bartol ran back to the rest of the party. As the barbarian came around the bend, he saw Thane casually standing against the wall. His lantern showed a side chamber. Inside Bernedette and Veridian were pelting a very large lizard with missiles. The lizard was chained to the opposite wall. It was guarding 2 chests. Bartol extinguished his torch and bent to pick up his lantern. Erik likewise waited for the inevitable.

“I think I can make a decent pair of boots and a belt out of the hide,” Thane commented.

“Some druid you are,” Timmay laughed.

“Well,” Thane huffed. “The other group from the Flagon Held High doesn’t have to be the only Dragon slayers.”

“That ain’t a dragon,” Bartol added. “But I guess maybe theirs wasn’t either.”


----------



## diaglo

*A taste of their own medicine*

Veridian and Bernedette retrieved bolts and arrows not destroyed in the slaying of the beast. Veridian then turned to the chests. Everyone else stepped way back. Thane provided the light from on far. Timmay and Bernedette went to find Ulfgar. Erik and Bartol waited to see if there was anything worth carrying.

Veridian examined the chests very carefully. He was methodical, but cautious. Finally, he tried the lock. Neither chest was locked. The party hunkered down. The first chest opened to reveal a hoard of silver coins. They were very old and the damp conditions had tarnished them. Veridian opened the second chest. Again, more coins, but inside he also found two vials. Thane hummed a spell. Bartol strapped his lantern to his belt as he and Erik began to pack the coins. 

"Magic," he announced. "One is conjuration. The other is..."

CRashhhh, Thump

"By Great Moradin's Hammer," a voice called. Ulfgar had company.

Bartol dropped everything. He sprinted back to the door. He drew his Greatsword on the way. His lantern just hinted at the scene. Ulfgar had a pack of trogs surrounding him. The largest of the group wore a breastplate and began to hum.

Bernedette and Timmay struggled out of a patch of grease.

“Do I want fries with that? Oh, Ronald McClown,” Timmay yelled. “You are so gonna pay for that. Taste the power of Timmay‘s Crippling Caution.”

Timmay hummed his own tune of magic. The pack of trogs froze. Their tactics changed. Suddenly, they were no longer on the offensive. It was as if they had lost all ability to attack and thought only to save their own hides. The leader was the only one unaffected. 

A random thought came to the party simultaneously, “I hate Timmay’s choice of spells.” Obviously some greater being was watching this battle. 

Bernedette called out to her magical friends. Thane, Erik, and Veridian also responded to the sounds of battle. Thane’s lantern was directed better.

Ulfgar waded into the battle his hammer striking left and then right as the pack tried to surge away. One of the trogs fell to the blows. They tried to flee back thru the door. A large lizard blocked most of the way. Bartol skirted  the pool and moved closer. His lantern pointed at the ceiling. But with his vision he could still see most of the battle. The leader hummed again. Momentarily, Timmay and Bernedette got a little drowsy. Both recovered.

“You don’t know who you are messing with,” Timmay answered. Timmay turned his attention to the lizard. He tossed some sand up into the air. The lizard slumped over asleep. Ulfgar caved in its skull. Bernedette's call was answered by a glowing eagle. It dove into the pack. Bernedette turned her attention to the leader. She snapped a bone over her knee and fired a bolt of magic. It struck true. But the results were unclear. She assumed she had weakened him. But he didn't appear to be having trouble with the weight of his armor. The slower party members also closed the distance some more. Thane and Veridian would soon be in battle. Erik, well, some times heavy armor is more of a restriction than you know.


----------



## diaglo

*Full speed ahead*

The trog Chieftain stepped to the side, pulled out a vial, and downed it. He vanished from sight. The remainder of the pack was able to flee now that the lizard was dead. Ulfgar surged thru the door right behind them. Maybe not a good thing. The second wave of trogs inside had not been affected by Timmay's spell. They took turns thrusting at Ulfgar. One scored a deep wound. The priest took it stoically, but he couldn't take another like that. Ulfgar found the burned trog from the first encounter  and laid him low. In an attempt to try and get the leader to reveal himself, Bartol ran past the spot he was last seen. Nothing happened. So Bartol continued thru the door. His lantern bounced from one side of the passage to the other. He briefly caught sight of a trog behind Ulfgar. He swung his sword out in front of him. It found flesh. Luckily it was higher up than that of a dwarf. The trog didn't survive the blow.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Bartol roared triumphantly.

Timmay also moved into the new passageway. He reached into his pouch and tossed some more sand into the air. Several of the trogs fell over sleeping. Bernedette's eagle dove into the fray. Bernedette tried a new tactic.

"Reveal all things magical to me,"  She scanned around the large chamber.

Thane stopped by the door. Veridian also tried to find the Chieftain. He put his ears and nose to work. Erik finally made it to the caller.

Of the trog tribe; the Chieftain vanished, 3 warriors slept, 2 battled Ulfgar, and another was still under Timmay's spell. One of the sleepers was injured as was the enthralled one. Ulfgar stepped back and prayed to Moradin for healing. The trogs attacked Bartol. One scraped his arm. Bartol attacked and slew the awake injured trog. Timmay pulled out his dagger, Dragontooth. He moved to the side of  the injured sleeping large kobold, or at least to Timmay's way of thinking. He stabbed the creature’s hide. It stirred. Oops. Bernedette’s eagle continued to harass the combatants. 

In the other chamber, Bernedette concentrated. She moved slightly forward.

“He’s somewhere over there,” she told Veridian. Veridian was already ahead of her. He stalked around trying to pinpoint the sounds. Thane summoned his orb of fire. It struck one of the trog’s near Bartol. He then pulled out his cudgel and continued to block the door. At least his lantern made things more visible. Erik threw up his hands and headed to the door.

“I hope the two of you can handle him,” Erik said to Bernedette as he left.

Ulfgar struck the burned the trog from behind. That left one standing and one now awake battling Timmay with 2 still sleeping. Timmay’s trog missed the gnome as he rose. The other took a stab at Ulfgar. Bartol went to Timmay’s rescue. He brought his sword in hard. Now there was only one still standing. Timmay eyed the other sleeping forms, but decided it was too risky with the last trog nearby. He went into a defensive stance as he tried to cast a spell. The trog couldn’t get in a stab. But it did shrug off the effects of the spell. Bernedette’s eagle took a parting dive and vanished. Bernedette lost the sense of magic.

“He’s gone from here,” she called out. She drew her longsword and joined the others. Veridian pursued a little further. He saw a form enter the water and swim away. Thane started to strip the hide from the lizard in the door. Erik approached the battle. He really needed to do something about his armor movement.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Re: The Lamest show on Oerth...Aber-Toril*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> *Besides the stilts, Veridian had a third pole to poke in front of himself. Timmay got a strange idea. He mumbled a little under his breath. Suddenly a strange ghostly melody could be heard. Rumpp...bumppp....da...da..da..
> da...Rump....pump....pa...
> 
> Bernedette took the cue and reached into her spell pouch. She began to juggle.
> 
> "Step right up ladies and gentlemen," Thane added.
> 
> *




Oh, now that's funny!

I was too busy running the encounter to really appreciate the humor in the situation.  Now that I think back I can't keep a straight face!


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Re: A taste of their own medicine*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> *A random thought came to the party simultaneously, “I hate Timmay’s choice of spells.” Obviously some greater being was watching this battle.
> *




It's not his spells I hate; it's the bloody high save DC's.  And they're all Will saves!


----------



## diaglo

*The tribe has spoken*

Ulfgar threatened the last warrior. The creature threw down its weapon and backed into a side chamber. Inside 3 smaller, females hissed and guarded a dozen hatchlings.  Bartol brought his sword down on the sleeping form of one of the trogs. SPPPlllattt. Blood and gore flew everywhere. (OoC: i did 32hp of damage and i wasn't even raging)  Timmay moved into position and stabbed the other one. It stirred. Oops.

"Save one for me," Bernedette called out. She flanked it with Timmay. Veridian ran back to the group. Thane shook his head and joined the others around the trog. Erik entered the battle. He grazed the creature.

Ulfgar also moved around the trog. It looked around. One female human, one gnome, one heavily armored human, one heavily armored dwarf, and one half-drow (well not really, but that's what Thane looks like with the white hair), and an elf and half-elf nearby. It lunged at Bernedette with its claws and fangs. She screamed. Luckily her magic saved her from any harm. Unluckily for the creature he gained Bartol's attention. Bartol circled around the group and brought his Greatsword down. It split the creature from neck to navel (do trogs have a navel). The blood and gore covered the barbarian, druid, dwarf, and Erik. Timmay and Bernedette were able to jump aside. Everyone turned back to the remainder of the tribe.

"Wait," Veridian spoke in their defense. "We don't need to kill them."

"We usually," Thane replied, "don't like to leave enemies behind. They have a tendency to cause trouble later." Bartol, Timmay, and Erik agreed.

"Well perhaps we can use them to find the treasure or tell us of  traps?" Veridian asked.

"Great," Bernedette surmised. "You don't want us to end their misery, but you want to use them to set off traps."

While the group argued, Bartol entered the side chamber. The last warrior tossed some coins at his feet. It also pointed to another doorway.

"Tribute," Timmay exclaimed. "Now that's more like it."

Veridian checked then opened the door. The Chieftain's chamber had a large chest. Again the rogue went thru a ritual of checking. He found a small hidden compartment. A ruby wrapped in green was uncovered. He opened the chest. More old silver coins. The party had almost more weight than they could carry. They left the tribe alone as they carted off the loot. But they didn't leave any weapons behind. Timmay suggested they carry everything to the fire trapped room. They were the only ones who knew it was not still loaded. They also headed back to the barracks and out the secret door to check on the animals. Thane and Timmay brought the pack inside. Ulfgar saw to Bartol's wounds. Bartol was the only one in the party injured.

"We need to recover spells," Bernedette mentioned.

"I've still got almost all of mine," Bartol added and smiled.

"Well you are the only one," Timmay remarked.


----------



## diaglo

*Watching and waiting*

Timmay, Bernedette, Erik, Thane, and Ulfgar rested first. Veridian and Bartol  stayed on watch with the animals. Veridian secured the door and Bartol scattered his caltrops. They used Thane’s lantern as their sole light source. They needed to conserve their oil and torch supply. They had also refreshed their water skins.

“I’ll take second watch,” Veridian remarked, “also. I don’t need as much rest as the rest of you. I’ll wake Ulfgar and Erik for third watch.”

Bartol reluctantly agreed. He was starting to trust Veridian more. But still something made his senses tingle. Maybe it was just the spider he squashed crawling on his neck. Bartol’s mind went back over the images of the passages and chambers below. He carved them into a plank of wood near the lantern; something to leave for Alrissian, if he ever returned. During his watch, Bartol cleaned and checked his weapons and armor. He repaired a tear in the sole of his boot. And he used his whetstone on his blades. Veridian did the same.

“Where did the large trog go?” Bartol thought to himself. “Why did he sacrifice his tribe? And while we rest, so will he. What other magic might he have? Will the animals notice them before we do? And what of the dwarven community? We found their tombs, but where did they live? From what I know of dwarves, the caverns the trogs occupied were too chaotic. There must still be more to find.”

Veridian sat staring at Hoardmaster. The rapier was still strapped to Erik’s side.


----------



## diaglo

*Update after tomorrow*

Bernedette will not be adventuring tomorrow. She is taking some time to read her spellbook and wait for signs of Alrissian or Erland's thugs.

and as always we don't know if Erik will be coming either.

but we did a mad scramble for carpooling and Veridian is going to make it. and considering Ulfgar came with Veridian and Bernedette last time. i guess we aren't sure of his statis either.

so the known cast for tomorrow's act will be:

Veridian, Timmay, Bartol, and Thane

with high probability of Ulfgar and Erik.

and the stand ins for Bernedette and Alrissian won't be making an appearance.

and of course Pepto, Valgrim, and Marcus of Tyr are in support roles only now under the direction of Olgar Shiverstone.


----------



## biorph

wow...I'm definately in axious awaiting of this week's write up.


----------



## diaglo

*If this be my last...*

Bernedette bid her paramour good luck. She elected to stay behind. The party was concerned  Erland's thugs might come in unannounced. And with Alrissian wandering about in the wilderness, they had no one to guard their rear. Bernedette therefore as usual volunteered to keep watch. She also wanted time alone to work on her spells and to think thru all that had happened to her. Maybe she just needed some time away from Bartol.

"If you love me, set me free," she begged. "If I don't come back it wasn't meant to be."

Bartol reluctantly agreed.

Timmay handed Smacks to Bernedette. The party left most of their things behind. They only took what was absolutely necessary. Thane bade his pack to stay and guard with Bernedette.

So after the normal morning ritual of prayers, meditation, and reading, the party set off for the lower cavern again.

Bartol was the last to leave. He kissed his lover and strode off not looking back.

The trek took 30 minutes of steady plodding. An occasional trickle of water grew to a steady stream. When the party crossed the stream again. They were back to the point of taking the plunge.

Veridian decided to check the off shoot further. He stripped off most of his gear. Bartol secured his grapnel and rope. Veridian tied himself to the rope.

"If this works like we expect," Veridian said. "I'll meet you around at the other side."

The rest of the party plunged ahead. Veridian slowly lost sight of the front party members as they took the light sources. He could just make out Timmay and Bartol.

"Shoot," he murmured. "I wish I had Thane's lantern."

A rock dropped in the stream.


----------



## diaglo

*Vengence is mine...*

Ulfgar was in the lead. He had just reached the bottom of the slope. Erik followed close behind; then Thane,  Timmay, and Bartol.

"Guys," Veridian called from further back. "I just heard something."

Nearly everyone turned back to see what Veridian was saying.

ROOOOOOAAAAAARRRR

A large furry shape lumbered out of the darkness.  It seized the dwarf. And pulled him close to its body. Ulfgar was alive, but just barely. Erik struck the bear. Thane followed with a ball of fiery magic. A series of javelins flew at the party. The bear pawed Erik. He also crushed Ulfgar closer to his body. Four trog warriors were below. One struck Timmay. Bartol raced to Erik's side. He swung hard and true. His Greatsword left a huge gash in the bear's torso. (crit 37hp damage and i wasn't even raging). The bear staggered and turned to flee.

Timmay grabbed his pouch.  "You want a piece of me," the gnome called out. He tossed some sand into the air. Two trogs slept.

Erik took a wild swing at the bear. And Thane began to cast. He step behind Erik and touched him.

The bear dropped the unconscious dwarf  and ran. Erik's blade caught the creature in the front paw. And Bartol's blade struck its hindquarters. It was dead before it hit the ground. The two remaining trogs launched javelins at Erik. Neither penetrated.

"I willss hasss my revengess,"  a voice hissed in Common.

Three bright firey bolts fired out of the night and struck Timmay. The trog Chieftain was visible nearby.

Bartol vaulted over the bear's corpse and attacked a trog before it could attack Ulfgar.

"Ronald McTrog," Timmay smirked. "I see you." Timmay began to cast a net of shadowy magic.

Another form materialized and struck Timmay down with a very large club. A larger trog stood over the fallen gnome.


----------



## diaglo

*Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust*

Timmay still lived. But blood rushed from the wound on his head. Ulfgar too was still unconscious.

"TIIIMMMMAAAAYYYY," Veridian screamed the battle cry. He sprang to the gnome's aid. But he came up short. 10 ft. short. He forgot he was tied up.

Thane launched another of his fiery balls. This one struck the warrior.

"TIMMMAAAAYYY," Erik bellowed and charged up the slope. He struck the large trog warrior.

The trog and his Chieftain turned their attacks on Veridian. He was caught between them. The Chieftain missed. But the warrior landed. A rather sneaky underhanded blow. Much like the elf was used to delivering. Bartol was stuck by his opponent. And the other trog woke one of the sleepers. Bartol saw blood. He lost control. He struck down his opponent. Timmay continued to bleed.

Veridian used Erik's aid and landed a sneaky stab of his own. Thane moved closer into the battle. He tossed his fire over the combatants heads. Erik struck the warrior again.

The trog tried to kick Timmay over the edge of the shelf. A 20 ft drop from this part of the slope. Instead, Erik struck him again. The warrior and Timmay both plummeted. Timmay landed on top of the warrior's body. Veridian dove for the gnome. The rope yanked him back. He careened past the Chieftain. The Trog stepped over the rope and knocked Veridian into next week. Veridian dangled over the edge of the shelf.

Bartol poured a potion down Ulfgar's throat. The dwarf shook himself.

"Timmay's over there," Bartol told Ulfgar. "He may not be..."

Veridian bled.

Thane summoned some magic. It was magic similar to Bernedette's. Erik attacked the Chieftain, but couldn't get past the breastplate.

The Chieftain stepped back and vanished. One trog advanced on Timmay's prone form. He plunged his longspear into the gnome's heart. The other made an attempt at Veridian. But the elf was too high up. He moved to wake the last trog instead. Ulfgar wade into the battle.


----------



## diaglo

*Let the mourning begin...*

Bartol was at the edge of his vision. He saw two figures. He swung at them. Ulfgar was moving  to Timmay. But decided to draw his hammer after he saw what the longspear did.

Thane's magic summoned 3 nasty rats. They attacked the area the Chieftain had occupied. One bit into flesh. Thane turned his attention on the trogs below. He struck one with a stone. Erik tried a different ploy. He tackled the Chieftain.

The Chieftain squirmed free and fled. His minions battled on. Two trogs surrounded Ulfgar. One stabbed the dwarf. The other battled Bartol. He too scored a gash on the barbarian. Bartol swung wide. Ulfgar stepped back and said a prayer to Moradin. He asked for sanctuary.

Veridian stopped bleeding. However, he was still breathing. Some luck was still with the party. Thane barely missed Bartol. Erik pulled his bow and fired an arrow into the wounded trog below.  One trog took a stab at Ulfgar. The other turned away and went for Bartol. Bartol's trog stabbed him again. Bartol swung wide. Ulfgar moved to Bartol's rear.

Thane tossed his fire magic. The trog died. Erik fired at a new target. The two trogs stabbed at Bartol. He had another wound. Bartol killed the injured trog. His anger was spent. Ulfgar bolstered the barbarian's wavering strength. He called on Moradin.

Thane went to Veridian. He pulled him up. Erik fired another volley into the trog. The trog took another poke at Bartol. Bartol laid him low. Ulfgar heard a noise. The Chieftain fled past the party unseen.

Bartol went to the Bear. He began to take his trophies. Erik did likewise to the trogs. They gathered the weapons and  Timmay's body.

"I hate all lizards," Erik said in disgust. "They killed Timmay."

Thane and Ulfgar brought Veridian back from the brink. Thane also took care to collect the meat from the bear.

"Come we must go back up," Thane commanded. "We need to rest and care for Timmay's body."

The party trudged back to Bernedette.


----------



## Angelsboi

Wow that was a short session  

Ah poor Timmay.  Bernedette will write a great and many things about you my little gnomish friend.


----------



## biorph

short for Timmay maybe, but believe me it's NOT over.


----------



## diaglo

*The meek shall inherit...*

"I will see him brought back," Veridian declared.

"He should be buried with the dwarves," Bartol responded. "He attempted to find and free this lost stronghold. He should be honored among their dead. There are 20 empty tombs. Timmay would like it."

"Bah," Thane fussed. "Maybe the Oakfather can reincarnate him."

Bernedette sat weeping. She clutched to her chest Timmay's spellbook. Smacks had given her a hint of the news, by his agitation. Smacks was even now wanting to go back down into the caverns.

The party took turns on watch. Bartol, Ulfgar, and Thane saw to the wounded.

"We must think of Timmay," Bernedette finally muttered. "He would want us to continue before Erland and his goons arrive. We must..."

"Aye," Ulfgar agreed. "We will go down again in the morning."

The hours passed slowly. Each of the party members lamented the gnome's passing. Each paid tribute in their own way.

Bartol sat stunned twiddling his dagger, the match to Timmay's Dragontooth. He glanced over at Erik. Erik still carried Hoard Master.

Erik swore to rid the caverns if not the whole world of the lizards. He sharpened his blade.

Veridian pondered. Only the gnome knew his thoughts. And now the gnome was gone.

Thane accepted Marmaduke into the pack. It was the least he could do for his friend. He busied himself with curing and smoking the bear hide and meat.

Ulfgar took Bartol's words and  meditated. He, too, thought Moradin would favor the gnome's final resting place here.

Bernedette...well she had inherited the world. Timmay's world and his things were now hers.


----------



## diaglo

*A new companion*

Bartol almost didn't go. He knew he should. But he couldn't leave without Bernedette. And after losing Timmay it made things even harder. In the end, he did go. Only because Veridian didn't want to and vocalized it adamantly. The stubborn barbarian went to fulfill Timmay's quest.

The party again passed down into the caverns. This time nothing or no one met them. They decided to try the tunnel ahead they hadn't ventured down before. It proved to be empty. But there were several more passages leading off into the caverns. One such passage was blocked by a series of iron bars. The gate was half ajar. The party cautiously crept forward. Inside the cage was another set of bars. An animal had been here. And it wasn't treated nicely. Ulfgar discovered a body, a human. And he was still alive. Bound, gagged, and covered in burlap. But not much worse for wear. Bartol pulled out his healer's kit and tended to the man's injuries. He came around when Bartol put some salts to his nose.

"Whhhat," the man mumbled. "Where am I?"

"You are with friends," Ulfgar replied. "I think. We are adventuring underground. I am Ulfgar of Moradin. And these are my companions."

"I am Elwood," he replied. "Underground? My friend and I were camping in the woods. We were just trying to find a lost stronghold. I had heard some fanciful tales and wished to see if they were true."

The party talked to the prisoner. He came round slowly. They exchanged more pleasantries. The party even told him of their quests and what they now faced. Elwood responded in kind. He had a way with words. He was truly gifted with a glib tongue. His equipment was also found.

"Will you accompany us?" Bartol asked. "Or do you wish to travel back and wait with the woman?"

"Charming," Elwood replied to the group. "Isn't he? Oh, yes, I would like to find my friend. Or learn of his fate."

The group now scoured the area. Nothing but what the bear left. They went further along the tunnel. It branched off some more. The party checked these areas out also. Empty. The trogs had taken all they could and fled. After the third chamber the party came upon a wondrous sight. A glowing blade was visible in the hand of a corpse. The corpse was covered in mold and fungi. It also wore some mail.

"Don't go any further," Thane commanded. "That is yellow mold."

Thane summoned his magical hand. It grabbed the blade and dragged it free. Spores flew into the air. Thane sprayed the area in oil. A fast trickle of water swept some of the oil further into the chamber. He ignited the oil.

BBBOOOOOOMMMM

The spores detonated.

"Well," Veridian sneered. "So much for surprise. Now everything knows we are here."


----------



## diaglo

*The dead are honored*

The party was able to enter the chamber after the oil went out. A brave dwarven skeleton occupied the armor. Two arrow heads lay inside the ribcage. The glowing sword revealed Duergeddin's mark. It also named itself Glory Tongue in runes across the base of the blade. It was a bastard sword. And fit into Erik's hand like it was made for him. The glow intensified. An area 10 ft around Erik was illuminated when he held Glory Tongue high.

"It has a hint of evocation magic about it," Thane murmured as his concentration faded.

"Erik might I suggest you hand Hoard Master to Veridian," Bartol spoke up. "No point in wasting the power of the rapier, if we can have two magical weapons in use."

"Three," Thane reminded Bartol as he touched his cudgel.

Veridian accepted Hoard Master graciously.

The armor was badly corroded. But it didn't matter. The party decided to entomb the dwarf with his fellows. The trickle ran into another chamber. In this chamber too was a dwarven body recovered. This one wore a ruby crested helm. Ulfgar said rites over the two fallen. He bolstered Bartol's strength with the aid of Moradin's favor. They carried the bodies back to the sepulchres. Each was buried with honors. The helm with one warrior. And the armor with other. Erik promised to increase the fame of Glory Tongue. 

"Where to next?" Thane asked.

"Down into the glowing fungi," Ulfgar guessed. "The trogs or the dwarven ruins or others might live beyond."

So the party descended into the Depths of the earth.   They had little need for their lanterns. But they stayed to the path. Something or someone had kept a rough path clear of the molds, slimes, fungi, and algae.

They wandered along. Suddenly a cloud of something assaulted their nostrils. Most everyone coughed and sneezed it clear. Erik and Veridian stood still.

"Guys," Bartol prodded. "That thing has eyes."

Bartol pointed at a large mushroom like thing. Erik pulled a trog head from his bag and waved it.

"What are you doing?" Thane queried.

"Accept the spores," Veridian mouthed. "He is communicating with us."

"Man, you are tripping," Elwood blurted.


----------



## diaglo

*Don't take the brown acid...*

But the party agreed. All but Bartol. He resisted as best he could. A second cloud of spores covered the party. Suddenly all of the fungi and molds and slimes and colors were alive. They were soooo vivid and they were talking all at once. Everything slowed down or sped up and it all made perfect sense, Man.

For sure, it was like, soooo Gnarly.

"I am the Myconid King," the big Toadstool thought.

"Whoa, cool, I heard that, No man. I felt that. No wait, I errr I uhh Yeah, I can dig it."

"Is that me thinking that or you?"

"What if Dawg were spellled Kat.

Bartol, Focus...Purple Haze all in my brain. Brain, I wish my brother George was here.

I am the Lizard King. Father, yes, Son, I ...No wait..

I am the E. G(ary). G(ygax) man, Coo coo Ca cHoo.

I am the Walrus."

Please sit.

Whoaaa how did we get here...and like these look like stools... cool

Will you drink with me.

Ent water, sure, why not, I hear it does things...

No just a local brew of my own concocting. 

The party thoughts rambled on and on and on. and

Let me get back to the story...The party learned from the King that he did not like the trogs, nor the hobgoblins. He was the last of his kind. He also knew of the dwarves and had seen Duergeddin's Mark on a door. The party carried the bodies of the trogs from all over the caverns back to the King. In exchange the King gave them 6 potions.  Ulfgar also promised to let the dwarves know of the King's kindness.

Elwood composed a tune for the happening. It was incredible. Awesome..like.. so bitchin'


----------



## diaglo

*Gricks, smicks...*

What happened next was a blur for awhile. But basically, the party went back to the cavern. They strode in the direction of the door of which the King had spoken...thought...communicated to them. Ulfgar and Veridian were on point. They saw something. Something long and many  limbed. They were a mass of tentacles and a beak. Erik moved forward. With a swish, Glory Tongue chopped one of the creatures in two. It died. Veridian pulled Hoard Master. He skewered another. It was slightly larger and survived. It struck at the rogue with its tendrils. Two raked the elf's flesh. Ulfgar called on Moradin's favor. He healed the wounded. Thane touched Bartol. He was suddenly stronger. But less agile. Glory Tongue severed the rest of the creature's grasp on this plane. It shuffled off this mortal coil. It pushed up daisies. It...was Gratefully dead.  

The party climbed a slight rise and there was the door. A large metal door. With a very complex lock. And Duergeddin's Mark. Veridian tried his best. But everyone knew it wouldn't be enough. Erland's thugs, Grekk and Ulfe in particular, and the trogs and their sneak thief warrior had probably already had a go at the door. No the party needed to find the key. But where.

Only one place left unexplored in the caverns. A slippery slope down. The party tied off to each other. They proceeded further down. Bartol lit his lantern. He moved it left and then right. No one liked the fact the barbarian was in the rear. After a treacherous descent, they ground leveled off. To the East was a set of doors. To the South another passage. And to the West a large pool. The water fell from on high into the pool and flowed South thru another passage. That one was all water. Veridian checked the doors. They were sealed shut.

"Lets scout out the passage South," Ulfgar reasoned. "We can always open the doors later."

So South they went. across a stone bridge and round a corner. The current was strong in the water. Another door was found in the South at a dead end. It was 2ft deep in water. Bartol and Ulfgar advanced. Bartol heaved the door aside. Water rushed out. The dwarf had to leave. It was up to Bartol's armpits. And it was very, very cold. Bartol began slugging ahead. Veridian and Erik joined him. They searched the rooms beyond. They only discovered the remains of a hobgoblin. It's pouch disintegrated when Bartol grabbed it. He recovered two vials. He handed them to Veridian. The party dried off and warmed up.

"Back to the sealed doors," Thane shrugged. "No key here."

Bartol's increased strength still lingered. He pulled one door off its hinges. A sight of decay and waste met the party's senses. An old kitchen or pantry. Nothing like the yellow mold inside but still it reeked. Another chamber was ahead. Thane and Veridian entered two archways.

"Back," Thane yelled. "There is an ooze. Abort the mission."


----------



## diaglo

*the blob II, the sequel*

The ooze didn't react. The bulk of the party huddled back in the chamber. Bartol edged closer to the door. He had his bow in hand and an arrow knocked. Ulfgar was the only one still reading Bartol's thoughts. Bartol buried his arrow into the ooze. It dissolved. And then the ooze advanced. It surged thru an archway. Ulfgar moved thru the other one. He entered the chamber the ooze had vacated. Nothing valuable again.

Elwood played a tune for inspiration. Veridian fired an arrow into the ceiling. Erik struck the ooze with Glory Tongue. The ooze licked the edge of the blade. But did not mar it. Thane tossed a flask of flaming oil onto the ooze. Bartol moved thru the archway after the dwarf. And beyond into another chamber. Nothing in that one either.

"Nothing here," Bartol called out.

The ooze bashed Erik. Its pseudopod and acid eating thru his armor. His armor was beginning to ruin.

"Bartol," Erik screamed. "You owe me."

Veridian's arrow ended the oozes movement. The arrow dissolved.

Erik cold cocked the barbarian.

"I just wanted to get it to move," Bartol said as he rubbed his chin. "I can outrun it and I wanted to see the chamber beyond."

"Yeah, right," Thane disagreed. "You just want to poke it."

With the ooze dead. The party did a thorough search. Nothing. Bartol yanked the hinges off the next and last door. Another useless search.

"I guess we cross the bridge and continue into the dark," Elwood surmised. "I sure hope we find my friend."

Ulfgar healed Erik's wound. The path crossed the river again. A natural bridge this time. And then they were in another chamber. Bartol saw a white blind cave fish flopping on the far shore. A tendril grabbed it. And then the stone put it into a large maw. Bartol slapped himself.

"Dudes, I think I'm coming down hard," Bartol barked. "I swear I just saw that rock eat something."

It was a very large rock. And it had eyes.

"Welcome to my dinner table," the Rock spoke in Common.

"Now I know I'm wigging out," Bartol groaned. "I think I just heard it speak."

"You did hear it," Veridian croaked. "We all did."


----------



## biorph

*Magical Mystery Shroom*

ahh yes the Myconoid king, he was super cool.  I'm suprised we didn't have to make will saves to prevent setting up a commune and spend the rest of our days tripping our asses off the way we were acting.  I'm just wondering what he'll entitle the encounter with cat's grace now.  Oh Ryan, I'm sorry, you missed the campaign embodiment of the blue mushrooms episode of Cowboy Bebop.

darn those gricks, I can't believe I went before then and forgot to sneak attack. Bad! Bad rogue!

lines I should've used:
No one can "PICK" a lock man, the lock picks you.

My hands are like huge, they can touch anything but themselves *touches hands together* WHOA!

SHHH, wait, we don't need to find a key, I think I can pour myself through the keyhole...darn it, I need more juice


----------



## diaglo

*Mr. Roper*

Bartol pulled out one of his 2 magical arrows.

"Arrow! Black Arrow I have saved you to the last... If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now...oops wrong story...

"Hold, Brave Sir Bartol," Elwood gestured. "Let me have parley with the creature."

Veridian was already conversing with the Rock in the language of the Underdark.

"Feed me, Seymour, Feed me..oops another wrong story..It has been many moons..."

"You can see the moon down here?" Ulfgar quipped.

Elwood negotiated passage. In exchange the party would provide a meal for the creature from whatever they fought on the other side. They blundered ahead.

And came to a halt. A door greeted them. It had a set of bars to look inside. Your typical holding cell area.

Bartol began to pace. Veridian was really nervous.

"What have you never seen a prisoner before?" Elwood laughed. As Veridian fumbled with the lock and checked it for traps.

Erik pushed it opened.

Inside 3 small cells were locked. The only occupant was a dead dwarven skeleton in the last cell. Veridian unlocked the first cell. And botched the next two.

Thane noticed an ornate key around the skeleton's neck. His magical hand brought it to him. Bartol raged against the ma...cell doors.

"Don't fence me in," Bartol shrieked.

"Well looks like we are stuck here until morning," Ulfgar stated. "Lets get to know each other a little better and talk about strategy to get us free."


----------



## Angelsboi

Damn!  I missed *Mushroom Samba*.  DAMN!


----------



## diaglo

*a perfect plan gone awry*

Basic strategy included all magic. Ulfgar would cast sanctuary on himself and then obscure the passage near the Rock with a mist. Everyone would use the wall as a guide to flee to safety. Ulfgar strode forward. The others followed behind him ready to bolt.

Ulfgar called on Moradin. What he got instead was a stone appendage. The creature lashed out and pulled the dwarf to its mouth 10 ft. Veridian fired an arrow. It winged the appendage, but didn't free Ulfgar. Erik ran up and grabbed Ulfgar. He tried to heave the dwarf back. Elwood moved forward and played a tune on his flute. Bartol moved into range and missed the appendage with his Greatsword. Thane called out to his friends. Three circles of light appeared near the Rock.

Ulfgar struggled with Erik's help to free himself. The Rock was stronger. But he moved no closer. The Rock sent out 5 more strands. One grabbed Elwood, another Bartol, several missed Erik and Bartol. Veridian downed a potion from the Myconid King. He was suddenly much more agile. But he also had things of blue and red streaking thru his hair. He looked almost Rastafarian. Erik pulled again on Ulfgar. Bartol chopped down on the strand holding him. He was free. Thane's rat friends attacked the Rock. Thane summoned his ball of fire. It struck the Rock. Thane's eyes bugged out. The Rock screamed in pain. Elwood was dragged closer to the Rock and into the fast flowing water. He couldn't get free.

"Guys," Thane said. "That thing took every ounce of my skill and then some pure luck. I don't think magic will work. But regular fire might."

Ulfgar's strength left him. The Rock pulled him closer. Three of the strands grabbed at the rats. And the maw latched on to one. Elwood too moved closer. And his strength too was going. Veridian fired an arrow at the Rock. It was too tough.

"It is well protected, too," Veridian added.

Elwood slipped free. The current pulled him downstream. Veridian moved to the edge of the water to wait for Elwood. He hoped to catch him before he was swept down and under the rock face. Bartol severed the strand. Ulfgar was free. But the weight of his armor was too much. He couldn't even lift a finger. Erik tugged on Ulfgar and dragged him back to safety. Thane's rats attacked their strands. They did little but distract the Rock. Thane waded out into the current. He and Veridian would save Elwood.

Elwood paddled over to Thane. Veridian and Thane pulled him up onto the bank and then onto the solid ground. The Rock had one free strand. It caught Bartol. Bartol chopped himself free and ran to safety. Unfortunately, Bartol was back at the entrance to this cavern and the others were stuck back by the cells. The Rock bit into another rat. They vanished.


----------



## diaglo

*should i stay or should i go...*

"Where's my food?" it asked. "Give me one of your members."

The party assessed their situation. Ulfgar and Elwood were essentially bumps on a log. Ulfgar was immobile and Elwood could only crawl very, very, slowly. They had 2 potions of strength from the Myconid King. But after watching what happened to Veridian. They thought better of it. Erik did have one potion of strength, Bernedette had identified. But he was holding onto it for an emergency. The Rock was practically the same. And magic wise they couldn't hurt it.

They had most of their magic. And no one was injured. Thane and Veridian could help Elwood. And Erik could drag Ulfgar. But they would need to avoid the 3 remaining strands and leave some equipment behind. Mainly the dwarf's armor. Bartol was only in shouting range. He lit his lantern. And after talking to the Rock for awhile he wandered off.

"Bernedette," Bartol said. "I am so glad to see you. The others are in danger. Help me with this."

Bartol came back to the cavern entrance.

"Here," he said as he flung some meat.

"Bartol?" Thane called. "What are you doing? We are going to rest here and restore our strength. We will attempt to get free tomorrow."

"I don't think so," Bartol called back. "I saw him move. This thing...

"I'm not a thing," the Rock interrupted. "And I am not deaf or stupid. Just ask the dark elves in my belly. Get me more."

Bartol threw the rest of the bear meat at the Rock.

"That is our provisions," Veridian ranted. "I saw you. You fed it all of our food."

"Not enough," the Rock spoke. "Must be more and bloodier."

"Okay," Bartol answered. He turned around and went back into the caverns.

Some time later he returned.

"Here," Bartol huffed. "RUUUNNNN."

The others hadn't picked up on the clue. The Rock grabbed the body of the trog. This one had some mold and fungi starting to form on it.

"ERRRrrr," Bartol fumed. "I got that from the Myconid King. I was hoping you were ready to run when I distracted him. Oh, nevermind."

The others just ignored him. They were playing at games. Erik had some dice out. And Elwood was drawing on the stone with a charcoal stick.

"So what do you do next?" Ulfgar asked the group from his back. "Thane roll for me."

"A 2," Thane smiled. "A miss."


----------



## diaglo

*The dearly departed or Timmay's finds his worth*

Bartol wandered back to Bernedette.

"I don't know how much longer I have," he said. "The Rock isn't going to let them play their games all night."

"Bartol?" Bernedette stood up. "What are you doing? Tell me. What are thinking? No, no, don't do it. Please, don't."

Some time later as Bernedette slept. Bartol rolled clear. He moved over to Timmay's body.

"Please forgive me my friend. But others are still needing you. You among all of us knew how to sacrifice for the good of the rest of us worthless retches. I hear there is a great treasure to be had where you are going."

Bartol strode away carefully carrying his sacred package.

Before he entered the cavern, he called out to the others.

"GGGGUUUUUYYYS," he yelled. "BEEE READY."

"So what have you brought me?" the Rock asked.

"One of our member," Bartol answered tears streamed down his face.

"TTTTIIMMMMMMMAAAAYYYY," Bartol yelled the battle cry one last time. He hurled the gnome's form across the stream.

The Rock grabbed it and swallowed him whole.

"GGGGOooood," the Rock replied. "I am sated."

The others scurried passed. Erik dragged Ulfgar. Veridian carried the supplies. And Thane helped Elwood.

After they had reached  Bernedette and safety.

"You never leave one of your party behind," Erik fumed. "Bartol, I hope you aren't going to resist the beating you are about to receive."

Thane, Veridian, and Erik worked the barbarian over with the flats of their blades. The half-elf cried the whole time.

Much later.

"Thank you," Elwood whispered. "He must of been a very dear friend."


----------



## biorph

oh sure, make us the bad guys, we were more than happy to wait until tomorrow and try again with a better plan but someone had to get all corpse happy.

;P


----------



## diaglo

biorph said:
			
		

> *oh sure, make us the bad guys, we were more than happy to wait until tomorrow and try again with a better plan but someone had to get all corpse happy.
> 
> ;P *





the mic is still open. you can post your version here or on another thread. i'm just filling in Bartol's side of the story. you will note Timmay and Bernedette have done that in the past.


----------



## Angelsboi

Bernie wasnt there.  I cant comment.


----------



## the Jester

Wow- sad to hear that Timmay died!


----------



## reichtfeld

"I promised myself I'd stop ensorcelling the suicide waves of mooks the day it stopped being fun."  I'm eager to explore the potential of a bard and needed a change of pace.    Anyways, here's some nonsense to bump the thread.  Maybe I'll do a post about Elwood's groovy lute exploration in the cavern of the mushroom king.  Which reminds me, that's the name of the composition he made on his _natural 20_ craft (music) check.  Look forward to enjoying this psychadelic masterpiece in a tavern near you.  "In the Cavern of the Mushroom King," by Elwood Darey.  But until then I'll post this:

---

"Help me, please!" the crumpled figure pleaded from his place beyond the bars.

He had been a prisoner in the foul caves for at least a tenday at this point.  It was impossible to judge for sure without benefit of the sun's warm, gentle rays.  In the deep there was only the sparse light of the mold and the omnipresent stench of heady musk.  As far as Elwood was able to determine, the noxious scent came from the lizards themselves, skulking bipeds that he had overhead speaking a pidgin form of Draconic.  Nothing that he had overheard gave any clue to the fate of his companion, though.  It seemed almost an eternity had passed since the two minstrels were sitting at their campfire, each with instrument in hand and joined in a duet to celebrate the coming winter.  Yet the harmony of their voices betrayed an underlying anxiety, and it was an anxiety that became justified as quickly as the troglodytes' stench and their ambush came upon the two adventurers.  Darvin was first to rise and meet the challenge, immediately beginning to sing in a strong tenor that conjured forth powerful magic.  Elwood followed in turn by exchanging his lute for the quarterstaff at his feet, prepared to defend his mentor long enough to repel the assault.  Yet Darvin choked upon his words, overcome by the smell, and Elwood's staff was of no avail against the scaled hunters.

Elwood still bore some cuts and bruises in his place within the cell.  When first awakening days ago he had found himself stripped of instruments, pack, and belt.  The creatures were not so stupid after all to deny him his component pouch, and while the bard had a fine singing voice it would not be enough to compel his captors for a release without the use of a charm.  So Elwood was left alone, shackled in the crude stone cell to worry over the fate of his companion and to lament their shared failure.  For days this had continued, left alone but for the company of his own voice and clapping, sustained by the rationing of wet, edible mosses within the chamber and beginning to regret the smell of his own waste as much as that of the troglodytes.  _Why am I kept here?  Who is your chief?_  He would attempt to communicate in simple Draconic whenever a lizard could be heard outside, but their only answer was silence and that silence's implication grew to terrify him.  Perhaps he was being kept for food, or even yet a sacrifice to their foul god?  What news of Darvin?  Whatever plans the creatures had were obviously disturbed when some time after Elwood had resigned himself to whatever fate may bring, the monsters disappeared.  And now he had been roused by the sound of voices.  Voices speaking Common!

"I beg of you, release me!"  The bard's hoarse call was met by the sounds of clanking steel and hurried footsteps across the unworked stone.  A voice responded in turn, rather oafish, but nevertheless having what Elwood's trained ear could pick out as an accent peculiar to Elven's Crossing.  "We're the good guys, hang on!"  The pitch suggested a half-elf: a burly, enthusiastic half-elf.  Elwood could pick out several other pairs of feet approaching, one moving with appreciable stealth and almost drowned out entirely by the noise of heavy armor.  "Wow, they had a prisoner down here!"  When the voice bellowed out again Elwood grimanced and rolled his eyes, regretting the notion of being rescued by amateurs as much as he relished the prospect of freedom.  No sooner did the half-elf speak then another voice chimed in, murmured with exaggerated disgust but intentionally clear enough to be heard: "And you figured that out by yourself?  Congratulations."  Elwood would later recognize the voice as belonging to the company's druid, and that none of their members were in good spirits due to the loss of a wizard from their number earlier in the caves.

The bard retrieved his belongings from the chamber outside while sharing the story of his capture.  An agreement was quickly struck to join them and discover Darvin's fate.  For at least a while, Elwood Darey had joined the Company of the Eleventh Hour.  After a search of the surrounding tunnels he was forced to concede there was no sign of the senior minstrel.  But by this point Elwood had determined that these yokels were in desperate need of his services.  Or, more truthfully, that they were now the best chance for him to liberate the treasures of the Forge.  If Darvin still lived then time would tell, but Elwood knew that his mentor would prefer he press on.  _You must be prepared to make many sacrifices combating evil._  And Elwood had pledged to make those sacrifices, just as Darvin had.  By the light of the silver moon they would prevail and on a silver harp they would celebrate _victory_.  Someday.

Someday.

"I miss you, friend."  Elwood whispered the words and clutched at a pin in the recess of his pocket while trailing after the party into a veritable forest of tall fungi.  For all the pain that Toril could bring it truly remained a fantastic world full of beauty and hope.  He relaxed his grip upon the pin and smiled for his first time under the mountain.


----------



## diaglo

*Update after this Sunday*

This coming session's possible encounters:

what's behind Duergeddin's Door numero uno? open the door and visit the sealed forge.

smoke 'em peace pipe with the myco king: take a wait and see attitude and learn more from the Big Toadstool.

Erland's brute squad makes an appearance: now that we have the key. will Erland's band show up?

starvation, dehydration, and fatigue: winter is coming and we are running low on supplies.

learn more about the lost bard.


----------



## biorph

*The roper encounter, the other point of view*

They retreated back into the cell out of the foul creature's reach.

"Is Ulfgar alright? He just sort of crumpled back there." asked Veridian as the entered back into the safety of the unused jail.

"Uggh, I feel as weak as a newborne babe" croaked Ulfgar as the rest of the party pried  his armor off him so he could breathe better. "Whatever that thing did to me, it wasn't fooling around."

Their new companion Elwood, was looking a little better than the dwarf, aided by the fact that he could still move under his own power.

"Well at least the half-elf got away so there's some hope of a rescue." Elwood said the rest of their party leveled their gazes at him.  "Oh come on, I mean I know he may be a it crude but he's not a total id-"

"YES, he is" interrupted Thane "Things are only worse for him being out there."

"That reminds me." said Veridian "Back in a second".

"Try not to get your ass kicked by an invisible Troglodyte" said Thane

"Bartol's not by the door anymore, which probably means he's going to try something" Said Veridian ignoring the Druid's comment

"Great." intoned the party in sarcastic unison.

As they made plans for their escape, Veridian heard a shuffling at the far end of the other carven exit.  "May as well see what he's planning."

Veridian decribed a scene where the barbarian threw the hobgoblin skeleton at the roper attempting to appease it.

"Did he miss the part where it said it wanted blood struggling meat?" asked Thane

The roper was of course, not appeased.  The rest of the party attempted, futily, to dissuade Bartol from any futher attempt to appease it.  They'd formed a plan to fill the cavern with magical fog and sneak past the blinded roper.  The attempted to convey This to Bartol but in typical fashion the barabrian would not listen.

"And he's gone off again, oh great, what now?"

The party seated themselves outside of the jail knowing that a show was soon to be imminent.

A few minutes later Bartol appeared again, this time with one of the bodies from the Myconid King.  Everyone else hoped he'd obtained it without pissing the king off.

again, as everyone save Bartol expected, the Roper was not appeased.

"Must be bloody, must be fresh" it said.

As he left a thought occured to Veridian "He's running out of things to feed it, I'd be forry for the creature, but please let him just give it a horse so we can be done with it, I don't mind if I have to walk back to the glenn."

Bartol of course decided rather than just a horse carry an extra rider, he's throw it something else.  He decided to give it the bear meat the party had just obtained.  Again there was no appeasing the creature.

The party was screaming at him now, begging, pleading, and threatening.  Anything so he would just stop trying.

"Gone." said Veridian "He's gone again, just like an entire winter's worth of food he fed it, just like Ti...Oh no, he wouldn't dare would he?" veridian looked at Erik and Thane with panic in his eyes. "Bartol would try to feed the Roper..."

The unsaid name fell heavy on their ears, it seemed to echo in the silence. Timmay

"If he does" said Erik "Then when I get my hands on him I'm going to..." "We're going to beat some sense into him" finished Thane. 

"Yes" replied Veridian "WE will" another thought occured which he said aloud "Why is Bernedette letting him feed that thing all our stuff?"

"Pfft, She's probably asleep or something, the poor girl is going to be in for a nasty suprise when she finds out what's he's done" replied Thane.

Again Bartol returned and as feared, he carried the young gnome's body.

"GGGGUUUUUYYYS," he yelled. "BEEE READY."

"So what have you brought me?" the Rock asked.

"One of our member," Bartol answered tears streamed down his face.

"TTTTIIMMMMMMMAAAAYYYY," Bartol yelled the battle cry one last time. He hurled the gnome's form across the stream.

The Rock grabbed it and swallowed him whole.

"GGGGOooood," the Rock replied. "I am sated."

The others scurried passed. Erik dragged Ulfgar. Veridian carried the supplies. And Thane helped Elwood.

As they exited the carvern Thane told him "You get to tell his wizard parents why their son is dead and there is no body for them to bury."

"Hmm" thought Veridian, "no body indeed.  It's clearly a creature of it's word, perhaps it might be willing to return at least the skeleton if we give it something in trade, give the body some peace.  Well Bartol does have that horse he's so attached to...no, no sense in punishing the creature for something it had no part in.  They'd probably find something suitable soon enough anyway."

After they had reached Bernedette and safety.

"You never leave one of your party behind," Erik fumed. "Bartol, I hope you aren't going to resist the beating you are about to receive."

Thane, Veridian, and Erik worked the barbarian over with the flats of their blades. The half-elf cried the whole time.  The tears were lost on the elf, everyone knows children cry most often when they know they deserve the punishment they rare about to recieve, because then they can't get out of it.

Bernedette took no action to stop them, but her face was unreadable, Veridian couldn't tell how she felt about all that had just passed. 

As he took watch that night the rogue's thoughts were heavy and muddled "Damn it, Timmay is dead, the body is gone, all the food is gone.  This couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time.  What am I going to do NOW!?!"


----------



## biorph

*Letter to family*

Dearest Sister,

The past repeats so quickly among these short lifed ones, I almost feel trapped in the same sequence of events, ever running, never succeeding.  I've no knowledge of how things took the course they did.  She sees me crawl.  I hate Her so.  I hope you will not forget our agreement.  Mercy is found at the tip of a sharpened shaft.

ever yours,
Veridian


----------



## diaglo

*Down into The Final FOrge of FUry*

There was only one option left to the party. The Dungeon Door. The door with Duergeddin's Mark. The door to untold treasures and monsters. But first, they had to be ready. So Thane and Bartol gathered supplies from the wilderness. Food, water, and wood. In the meantime, Ulfgar and Elwood regained their strength.

After all was in readiness, they again descended. Elwood decided to remain behind this time. He would guard the rear. The path was become well worn. The only thing that had changed was the fungi. They had started to invade the corpses of the gricks.

Veridian took possession of the key from Thane. He approached the door. Everyone else moved back. A perfect fit. The door swung open. The rogue in the lead. Followed closely by Ulfgar, Thane, Erik, Bartol, and Bernedette. They climbed a flight of stairs. And turned a corner. And into an octagonal room. Three large bronze dwarven statues occupied the room with 2 visible doors. Bernedette mumbled under her breath. Another door was revealed.  She placed her hand against the stone. It was real and unmoving.

"If amateur hour is over," Veridian interjected. "I'll see about getting us in."

The rogue tried searching for traps on the statues first.

"Uh, the door is over there," Bernedette quipped.

The rogue found a mechanism to open the door. He turned and smiled to Bernedette. He then opened the door and entered. Another flight of stairs up and a door. Bartol pulled his hammer and spikes out. He spiked one of the doors in the octagonal room. BANNGGGG. Veridian opened the door at the top of the stairs.

"ljwohieroi," a voice cried out in a foreign tongue. "Hfoiaoerhnk, asdfhoaier"

"They think we are intruders," Veridian translated. "They are telling us to leave."

Ulfgar and Thane went inside. Veridian covered them from the doorway. Erik too.

Bernedette tried the other door in the octagonal room. Two of the statues released a trap. The caller was laid low. Bartol had to pour a potion down her throat to revive her. 

"I'll not tell you again," the voice switched to accented Common. "Leave our home."

"This is the home of the dwarves," Ulfgar replied. He spied one of the inhabitants.  A dark elf. He pulled his warhammer out.


----------



## diaglo

*Legacy of the Drow*

"Retreat," Thane said as he backed away from the dark elf.

 Veridian didn't. He fired an arrow into the elf's neck.The dark elf was dead. There would be no negotiations.  The drow was not alone. Several twangs were heard. And Ulfgar fell over napping. The room also went dark. Bartol charged into the room. He grabbed Ulfgar and dragged him back to the stairs. Erik moved forward to cover Bartol's retreat. Neither of them could see well.

"It's a trap and you are in on it," Bernedette accused Veridian. She covered herself in magic.

Thane hurried back to Ulfgar. He started looking him over for any wounds. He discovered a poisoned bolt. Veridian crept forward into the room for cover. There were several columns to hide behind. A drow male captured Erik's attention. He fired a bolt at him from a hand crossbow. Two more fired at Veridian. After leaving Ulfgar to Thane's care, Bartol moved in the direction of the sounds of battle. He left the darkness, only to be attacked by a spiked chain. A female drow blocked his path. She became visible with the attack. Bartol swung wide. Erik moved closer and attacked the male. Bernedette moved to Bartol's aid. She tried to cast a spell from Timmay's repertoire. It failed against the drow, but slowed a large spider. Two spiders had joined the battle.

Thane's work would not rouse the dwarf, but it would prevent him from suffer any ill effects. Veridian fired at Erik's opponent. The drow female lashed at Bernedette bouncing off her magic. The drow continued to fire at the combatants. Veridian was struck again. And the spider bit him. Erik's opponent missed. Bartol split the female drow in two. He advanced to the next one. Erik fought and killed his drow. Bernedette moved to finish the frozen spider. She wounded it. 

Thane summoned some magic and attacked Veridian's spider. Veridian moved aside and drank a potion. He vanished.  The spider lunged for Thane. One drow attacked Bernedette and the other ran. Bernedette went down. Bartol swung at the drow near Bernedette. He got stuck instead. His Greatsword and his locking gauntlets worked against him. Erik pulled him free.

Thane splatted the spider with his cudgel. Veridian moved into position and fired into the web. It stopped the arrow. A door closed in the distance. The drow concentrated on the caller. He lifted his sword to end her life. Bartol raged. His Greatsword tore thru the web and the drow. Body parts fell on the caller. He finished his rage on the frozen spider. Erik moved to the doorway thru which the other drow had fled.

Battle was over for now. Bartol gave Bernedette another potion.

"What happened?" Bernedette asked. "Are we safe?"

"Not yet," Bartol answered. He stumbled back to the dwarf.


----------



## diaglo

*Battle on two fronts*

Ulfgar came around. He was eager to return to the action. Erik guarded the door the drow exited. Bernedette scanned the room. A throne occupied a dias. Graffiti covered the walls and the columns. Veridian searched and mutilated the bodies of the drow.There were 5 doors from which to choose. No one, but Ulfgar offered to follow the drow.

"Where to now?" Ulfgar asked.

One of the doors had some strange writing on it. No one could decipher it. This seemed the obvious choice. Ulfgar entered.

It was a shrine to the Dwarven gods. Three altars and a setting for pews were placed orderly about the room. Several piles of bones were also near the altars. Ulfgar approached the altar to Moradin. An evil presence stirred.

A hideous corpse rose to confront the cleric and two of the piles of bones animated behind him. Thane attacked the bones with his cudgel. Bartol also moved into the fray. The skeleton hit him as he charged. Bartol swung wide. His anger now controlling his actions. Bernedette joined them.

From the other room a cry was heard. "They're coming." Erik screamed. The sound of battle followed. Veridian went to help Erik.

"In the name of Moradin, Begone foul beasts." Ulfgar shouted. The unengaged skeleton crumpled. The corpse reached for Ulfgar.

Thane destroyed the skeleton. Bartol moved to Ulfgar's side. The very air was tainted around the corpse. Bartol's Greatsword bit deep into the flesh. Bernedette also closed with the corpse. Ulfgar used his warhammer. The corpse struck Bartol. Bartol felt his soul being sapped.

Thane moved to the door. Bartol decapitated the corpse and ran to the door. Bernedette and Ulfgar in hot pursuit.


----------



## diaglo

*TPK*

The scene in the other room was not very promising. Erik was stuck in a net of webbing with a female drow. He still had the use of his arms. He had his bow drawn. One male drow lay dead at his feet. Veridian was in close quarters with another male. A dead male with an arrow in his heart lay nearby. A male covered in magic stood by the throne. And another male was heading for the door behind the throne.

Veridian looked injured. Thane moved closer into the room, but it would be a little longer before he could heal him. So he tossed some of his fire magic at the web holding Erik. Bartol charged upto and skewered the male with Veridian. Bernedette trailed behind. She launched a spell at the male mage. Nothing happened. Ulfgar in his heavy armored still hadn't entered the room.The male on the throne tossed a small bead of fire over Bartol's shoulder. It exploded in a great ball of flame. Bernedette went down. Veridian escaped untouched. Thane and Bartol rolled clear of most of the flames, but they were smoldering. One male vanished thru the door behind the throne.

Erik attacked the mage. Veridian fired at the now unstuck female. She collapsed. Thane healed Veridian. Bartol also charged the mage. Ulfgar roused Bernedette with his magic.The mage stepped back. He unrolled a scroll. Another ball of fire landed in the party. Veridian avoided it again. Thane and Ulfgar were both burned. Bernedette went down. From the door 3 more drow arrived. One wore heavy plate and carried a spider emblem on her shield. She struck Erik. Erik nearly lost consciousness. His wounds were catching up to him. The other two moved to attack Veridian. Veridian killed the one trying to circle behind him. A figure materialized behind Bartol and Erik. She had a double sword. Her movements were unreal. She took two swipes at Bartol and one at Erik. Luckily none penetrated.

Erik moved clear of the combat. He headed to Ulfgar and Thane's position. Veridian poked his opponent with Hoardmaster. The drow crumpled. Thane launched magic fire at the priestess. It ignited. Bartol positioned himself between the mage and the priestess. His swing bounced off the magic armor of the mage. Ulfgar bolstered his strength with Moradin's might. The drow mage moved away from Bartol. He launched another small bead of fire. Thane, Ulfgar, and Erik went down. The fast moving double sword-wielding female made short work of Bartol. One, two, three strikes and the barbarian was down. The priestess headed in Veridian's direction.

Veridian struck the priestess. A deadly jab to the neck. She collapsed.

"Let us talk," Veridian called. The male drow mage and the female warrior advanced.


----------



## diaglo

*Summary*

And so ended the adventures of Bartol Pinesheaf.

biorph may finish out the story.


----------



## biorph

*The quality of mercy is not strained*

One of the main tenents of the Drow is that while mercy is for the weak, humiliation has endless entertainment value.

So I stood there, as Hordemaster slid out of the heart of that priestess of the spider bitch, I realized that I was still outnumbered, 1.5 to 1.  The wizard was firing a cross bow at me, pfft, have the drow been underground for so long that they abandoned the use of real bows?  if he was resorting to a weapon he was out of spells that posed any threat to me.  The woman on the other hand was another matter, she was more able in combat and probably stronger as well.  He speed was enhanced with what I could only assume was magic.  I had no way out but to parley, which meant death for the party, I may lie well, but I can't negotiate to save my life...or theirs for that matter.

"Do you wish to save your friends moon elf?" she asked me

"What did you have in mind?" I replied

"We will leave them alive, we will take their possessions and leave you yours, how you explain that to them is up to you."

Had I been a wiser man I would have realized then she knew  her situation was almost as desperate as mine.  I had a feeling the two of them were all that remained of their group.  a thousand paths lay open to us had I chosen otherwise.  well most of us anyway.  The little fat human girl called Bernedette had her life in that book she carried.  If I were to let them take it, I may as well let them slay her, and here is where the wisodm of the dark elves shown through, mercy only led me more death.

"Could you not spare the girl her book" I asked "I means the world to her"

The warrior looked at the remaining wizard who shook his head.

"If you wish to face me in combat you may yet win the day" she replied.  I was not that big a fool.  

I was much much bigger.

The party was almost dead, my back was to the wall, if I failed in my attempt we were dead.

I revealed to her exactly who she was dealing with.  I could see the disgust covering the fear in her eyes.  I told her "More of my kind are coming, when we find you we will rend the living flesh from your body and leave you screaming as we slowly devour a piece at a time.

The problem is that it's hard to scare someone holding a ver large double bladed weapon she knows how to use very well.  Especially when she has only a few scratches on her. She was not afraid. (OC: if only someone had spent a hero point to make her fail that sense motive check she would have run).

"My first offer has expired elf, trying to bargain and threaten from the weaker position, tsk tsk, we will kill your party and let you be free.  Or..."

"Yes?"


----------



## Angelsboi

Bernedette is not fat.  She looks like Neve Campbell.

And id rather be fat than a drow traitor.  And murderer.


----------



## biorph

*as ye have sown*

"Or," continued the drow "You can sacrifice your life and we will give them theirs."

In the back of his mind Veridian heard Her voice again.  The low mocking tone she normally used was gone replaced by one dripping with sincerity and reason.  "Think really carefully before you decide to do something all <i>noble</i>.  In your misguided efforts to help them all they've repaid you with is suspicion, accusations, insults.  To your face the druid said that he suspected you were some sort of daylight adapted drow, the fat girl has been ntohing but an annoyance, when she realizes you know the langauge of the underdark she won't think you learned it to hunt their kind, she'll think you learned it to ally with them, the half human, well, what did you really expect of someone with polluted blood anyway, He doesn't even have enough respect for the dead the bury them properly, and the only person you were close to too.  such a shame, there's no way to bring him back now.  What have they ever done to deserve your sacrifice?"

"Do you swaer that they shall be kept safe if I do sacrifice myself?" he asked the female drow

silence was all the response he recieved

"You know they're trained better than that.  She's let you twist in the wind this long becuase your indecision amuses her.  She's not going to let them live even if you do die.  The dwarf and the half-human will be taken deep into the underdark and tortured until the end of their natural lives.  The humans will be used for the children to cut their teeth on and to practice new torture methods until their frial little bodies just give up. The girl will be raped repeatedly, she and her half demon children will be the torture toys of some preistesses son, the children sold off as pincushions to drow spinsters or perhaps used as a sacrifice.  Look around you, they've all stabilized themselves.  Their wounds are not flowing, they're alive.  Any chance they had of a quick painless death did the minute they didn't.  She will kill you and bring them back to her clan as hostages.  If you leave though...  She's partially wounded and the wizard is useless for the rest of the day.  She's almost sure she can beat you in a fight, but that doubt is what's keeping you alive.  As you stand here listening to me it slowly runs out.  Decide now before it is too late."

"Farewell" he said

The warrior and wizard's faces broke into smiles.  They took the key off Bernedette's body escorted him to the dorr, showed him out, bowing in a gesture of mocking respect, and slammed and locked it behind him.

He returned to the camp to talk to a very puzzled Elwood

"Where's everyone else?" he asked

'Dead if they're very lucky' thought Veridian "We ran into a party of drow, probably a dosen of them total and I don't think we even met them all"

"We..we must save them mustn't we?" Elwood replied

"They're drow, if they're very lucky their beyond our help now, and if they aren't then I truly pity the agonies they will go through before sweet death takes them."

"But...but" Elwood stuttered

"They have the key to the door and I know of no other way in.  I tried to save everyone, but in the end I was only able to walk away with my own life."

The bard's face fell "so it's..." "Hopeless? Utterly" finished Veridian "I am going to Peldan's Helm" he continued "I reccommend you come with me if you wish to save your own life.  It's approaching winter and the roads will be rife with hungry animals and gangs of bandits.  I suggest you come with me and we can protect one another.  I'd offer you my firendship, but that doesn't seems to have done anyone any good lately."  

Packing up the horses, releasing the wolves, the packed up the horses and marmaduke and began the trek to Peldan's helm.  "How ironic," thought Veridian, "now we have more than enough food."

In his meditations those nights all he heards was Her mocking raucous laughter.


----------



## Angelsboi

*New Beginnings*

The young man sat at the table of Wulf's Tavern in Peldan's Helm.  He had arrived with another group of travelers just days before.  His clothes betrayed his nobility.  He wore a silver necklace with an ornament of a skeletal hand holding scales.  His armor was spiked and dyed studded red leather finely made.  It matched his 'wake-up-and-rolled-out-of-bed' styled hair.

His whip was studded and made very well.  Across his back he had strapped a bastard sword.  He was grim and looked stern.  

He saw an elf walk in seeking a room and then asking for adventurers.  The young noble looked at his hafling friend, the mysterious hooded human who appeared to be with the Riders of the Dales, a monk who was seeking a temple and another human male.

The noble raised an eyebrow as the elf talked and another elf across the way started waving a flaming sword around.  The elf with the flaming sword introduced himself as Highmul and claimed he had got the flamming sword in the Barrows to the south.  Undead were fought there.  They even met with a creature wrapped in cloth.

"A mummy."  The man said.  The elf looked impressed.

The man introduced himself as Richter Belmont, of House Belmont from Cormyr.  He claimed to come from a long line of Hunters and was seeking adventure slaying the undead, and finding a temple to Kelemvore.

After the elf, who introduced himself as Veridian, explained what happend, Richter and the others looked at him suspiciously.  The elf claimed he didnt care much for the group and one of his party members sacraficed another party member to something called a Roper.

News came from a priest called Abercrombie about the Company of the 11th Hour Heros.  They had died.  Richter put 2 and 2 together and realized Veridian came from that very same group.

Wulf closed the tavern down early and the next day, the town sage Elliar gave a memorial to the heroes.  Richter had introduced himself to Elliar as did Veridian and the monk.  Elliar told them of a temple the Heroes were supposed to liberate and had failed.  Elliar mentioned they had fought a creature known as an Allip.  Richters eyes lit up.  Elliar told the three to come back the next day after the three had vowed to go fight it.

They all went back to Wulf's were Veridian began to speak to Highmuls friend, a dwarf, who had fought in the barrows.  Veridian began to speak to him and his story changed yet again about what happened with the Heroes.

"So you lied to us?"  Richter asked, wanting a straight story.

The elf looked at him and said, "Excuse me do I know you?  Ive never met you before yesterday."

Richter smiled.  "Remember you dont know me when we go to that temple Elliar wants us to and you need to be healed."

Veridians eyes widened as he realized he had agreed to travel with him and another to the temple.

Richter got up and left for his room.


----------



## diaglo

*Fiddle SKipstone*

Fiddle Skipstone is not your typical halfling. His parents were of mixed race. His father, Kendal Skipstone, was a strong warrior through and through of true Strongheart descent.  His mother,  Dyal Willberry, was a Lightfoot seamstress in a travelling show. They met in Luiren. And for 2 whole years they remained together. But like all Lightfoot halflings the road beckoned. So away the Travelling Willberries went. As a parting gift, Kendal gave their son, Fiddle, a masterfully crafted short sword. He had Dyal promise that someone would teach the lad its use.

So from the time, Fiddle could walk he dreamt of using his sword. The Willberries crossed many lands. By sea, by foot, and by wagon they roamed. The leader of the troupe was a ranger. He was the most admired figure in the camp. Breaking new trails, finding new lands, and living the life of constant travel and adventure, the halfling ideal. But it would be many years before Fiddle learned the way. His first stop was to help keep food on the table in another fashion. Fiddle had quick fingers and feet.

Fiddle part in the troupe was to collect things in their travels. Things people left carelessly unattended. Things they obviously didn't want. Things they wouldn't miss. Fiddle was a good collector. Eventually, the troupe reached the Dalelands. The land of more big people. But also the land of relatives. Fiddle's aunt was a legend. She was said to know the answer to almost any question. She was full of advice. And gave it freely. Something Fiddle admired. And her daughter, Pepto, was just as quick of wit. She and Fiddle enjoyed each other's company.  Although, Pepto had all Lightfoot tendencies. She left home often and came back with grand tales. 

One such tale was recent, this would be Fiddle's first great adventure. A dragon as big as a barn. Fiddle practiced his tracking techniques. He practiced with his sword. But years as a collector taught him, he favored the dagger more. And he practiced dressing wounds and game. When he was finally ready. Fiddle set off for Peldan's Helm.

Now that he was a ranger, Fiddle learned the truth. The life of a ranger is a difficult one. He was a solitary figure. He was disconnected from the rest of his family. He was denied the comforts of which he was accustomed. He missed them. For these reasons, he turned back to his old trade. And found himself in an Inn, The Man with Fire in his Hands, in Peldan's Helm. With winter's nasty truth wailing outside.


----------



## diaglo

*A night at the Inn...*

Fiddle sat at a table with several peculiar big folk. Sir Richter Belmont, of the Cormyr Belmonts, a fighter type with a nasty looking whip and bastard sword strapped across his back. The noble, or so he said, called for some salt. His pouched bulged with coin. He and Fiddle had met on the road to Peldan's Helm.

Vlad, another fighter type, but also in light armor like Fiddle. A good natured fellow. Just returned from Damara. He said he was eager to help clear the trouble of late. Even word had reached Damara of the battle at Peldan's Helm. 

Aaron, a monk of the Old Way, in search of lost knowledge. Bald of top with a tuft of hair on his chin and around his ears. A glowing gray coloured stone circled his head. He was looking for more of his order.

 Hawk, a Rider of the Dales, or at least connected to them for he wore the garb. He professed to be an archer and a tracker. His bow was close to his hand. He was the quiet type.

At a nearby table were some guards of the Helm. And local artisans occupied another table. The last table, however, was noteworthy.  A female dwarven cleric, a female elf, a human mage, and standing; an elven warrior. He was showing off a flaming sword. The magic was quite impressive. If not alarming.

"Fool," Vlad spoke. "Do you want to burn this place down?"

Before the elf could answer. Another elf entered the Inn. He looked ill-equipped for the weather. The elf was decked out in all black leathers. His boots showed much use.

"Innkeep," the elf spoke unconcerned that Wulf was busy. "A room and some ale."

"Anon, good sir," Wulf answered after quietly apologizing to the guards. "We are all out of rooms. Perhaps you could convince someone to share theirs."

The elf continued, "I have just returned from battling a Roper and many drow."

Soon everyone returned to their conversations. The mention of drow sparked Fiddle's curiosity.

He slipped outside. And followed the path to the stables. He entered undetected. The stableboy was very busy. He found an interesting sight. Two riding dogs , a splendid warhorse although poorly cared for of late, and 3 other riding horses. All of the animals looked worn out.

Fiddle made friends with the dogs.  So as not to cause them to bark. He examined the horses more closely. A large number of laden sacks were deposited  in the stalls. Although curious, Fiddle left them. The mention of Drow ringing in his ears. He looked at the soil and the horses droppings. They had come from the West. Several days travel. Fiddle's ranger skills paid off. He went back inside.


----------



## biorph

*Diaglo can take it from here, I'll provide color commentary as neccessary.*

A few days journey brought us to Peldan's Helm.  Elwood went to get us a room while I looked for some place to sell the rest of the party's good, they wouldn't need them any more.  A bear skin, a lizard skin, some odds and ends, a nice sword and a saddlebag full of silver.  Over the few days I had told Elwood all about the cancer.  There was nothing else to do, I figure he may as well get to know who he's traveling with.  Am I a fool to trust a bard I just met to keep him mouth shut?  Perhaps. But I'd be no bigger fool than I had been in my negotians with the drow.  dreams continued to haunt me of ways I could have handled that better.  Just as before.  And they would fade over time, just as before.

I went to the local trading post and got my money changed for something lighter and less noticable.  This was the moment I'd been dreading.  The Druid was the only one who'd not worn his hero's medal.  I felt it only right to return it to them.  It had no value to me, it wasn't something I'd be able to sell here, nor would I want to.  I'd taken enough from them without tarnishing their memory further selling their glory in some local pawn shop for barely enough coin to buy drinks.  The man was flabbergasted and immediately asked where I had obtained this.  I told him I had found it on a party of dead bodies.  It was close enough to the truth, I could always be more honest if neccessary, right now I just wanted to have a few days off of the road to rest and relax my mind.  The man shooed me out and told me to come back tomorrow.  Soon the entire town would know about the destruction of the company of the 11th hour.  I needed a drink and went next door to see how Elwood fared with our rooms.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Angelsboi said:
			
		

> *Bernedette is not fat.  She looks like Neve Campbell.
> *




Well, maybe she _wasn't_ fat.

She's spider food, now, though.


----------



## reichtfeld

It was a bit presumptuous posting Elwood following along to Peldan's Helm.  I'm guessing that my absence Sunday was covered by Elwood staying with the Myconid Sovereign and nursing his roper wounds which were stubborn to recover due to the malnourishment and fatigue of his recently-ended capture.  And when Veridian came up and told of the party's demise, Elwood would mourn but then part ways and travel to Shadowdale for the winter in order to give a report about what's transpired at the dungeon and raise a call to clear it.  He would insist that Veridian travel to Peldan's Helm in order to relay news of their heroes' deaths while Elwood addresses his mentor's fate.

I saw the line-up of the new party and it needs a lot more than a bard, so with the DM's permission I am wondering if a cleric of the Red Knight might take quarters at Peldan's Helm for a winter's break from pilgrimage throughout the Dales' holy sites.  The Harper joke just wouldn't be funny anymore with Bernadette dead.    The company now needs a chaplain far more than a publicist, regardless.


----------



## Angelsboi

It was awful.  And we'll have two clerics.  Just as soon as Richter can find a temple to Kelemvor.

So Veridian traveled back by himself eh ...


----------



## biorph

*spider food*

well I guess I can't cell her fat anymore, she's finally achived that figure that even elven females dream of having, just bones and bumps.  Still like I said better dead than subjected to the tortures of the drow.  Especially since we didn't see anyone die.


----------



## Angelsboi

*sighes*

Ok, now that im not playing a nieve young girl, can we stop making fun of my characters now?

At least Richter hasnt done anything to constitute that.  And its not like Bernie was the only one who did stupid things .... 

oh well.  new character to try out =)


----------



## diaglo

and you will find Fiddle is very different from Bartol in his outlook. Olgar had some taste of him when Jester came to visit.  and Thane/Hawk too knows a little more about his appetites.


----------



## Angelsboi

yeah, i know a bit about you too.  I catch your grubby little fingers in my pocket again and i will start cutting them off one by one ...


----------



## biorph

you know we only mock because we love.


----------



## reichtfeld

A difference of four caster levels is pretty huge, and that difference will only increase unless Richter doesn't take any more fighter levels.


----------



## Angelsboi

Well he will only take another level of fighter when he gets improved critical


----------



## diaglo

*1 Hammer Current Clack*

Wulf closed the inn early. The Company of the 11th Hour was no more. Veridian, the black leathered elf, had been with them. Pepto's boon companions were all gone. The tale of the Dragon would have to wait.

Fiddle slept soundly. Nothing would wake this halfling. In the morning, he found the others at a service. All of Peldan's Helm grieved for their Heroes. Afterwards Richter, Hawk, and Veridian spoke with an older elf. Fiddle helped himself to Richter's pouch.  He would count it later. The elderly elf, Eliar, wanted someone to clear a temple of an allip. Some form of undead. Richter practically drooled. Fiddle agreed to help. He turned to leave.

"Ah, Fiddle," Richter called. "My things."

Fiddle walked back. Hawk hadn't seen the exchange but had helped Richter to discover the culprit. Vlad and Aaron also wished to join the hunt. But first the winter and the need for magic. Supposedly only magic would hurt the allip.

"I found this," Fiddle handed a pouch to Richter. "It must be yours."

There was a Dragon to slay somewhere in all of this adventuring. Fiddle wandered about Peldan's Helm. Most people ignored him. Being small had some advantages. The big folk talked about all sorts of things:

· Reece the cobbler had taken ill. Ministrations by Father 
Abercrombie had been insufficient to cure him. (Medic….powerful medic. Though, he is an old man. Maybe it is his god's will. Tyr, right? Or so I've gathered from my encounter with the Father.)
· Dumic the Red is preparing to represent Mistledale at the Dales Council at Midwinter. He is awaiting arrival of an escort from the Riders. (Who is this Dumic fellow? Maybe a trip to the Dales Council won't be 
too far out of the way, if we are going to the elven temple?)
· Eliar the Mage is seeking heroes to purge undead from a lost elven shrine due to the fall of his protégé. (Already spoke to Eliar. Agreed to look into the matter. But we need some magic weaponry.)
· The Heroes of Peldan's Helm have fallen in battle with drow raiders. A memorial ceremony has been held and a statue will be commemorated in their memory. (Went to the service. Very touching. But…they were adventurers, what did they expect?)
· Bomblinn Deepdelver and a band of dour dwarves from Glen are wintering at Peldan's Helm, enroute to an ancient dwarven stronghold discovered and liberated by dwarven hero Dorek Stonebeard. (The dwarves can handle it. Sounds like they are better prepared than the Heroes of Peldan's Helm.)
· The Company of the Burning Brand has returned from a successful foray to the Barrow Fields, where they fought through undead to retrieve an dancient flaming sword. (I need to have a talk with High Muul. Maybe I can convince him to let us have the sword.)
· Stop by the tavern and meet Himool, captain of the Burning Brand and wielder of the sword of flame. (Way ahead of you.)
· An elven patrol told a patrol from the guard that they had encountered strange, ancient ruins north of the Helm in the forest. They saw black and green robed humans, gnolls, and hobgoblins searching the ruins, plus what looked like walking corpses. (Shhh. Don't tell Richter.)
· A major snowstorm has dumped 3 feet of snow on the Dales, trapping many travelers at Peldan's Helm. (And a cozy place it is…)
· Jeb the fisher claims he saw a large beast fly over early one morning headed northwest, just before the snowstorm. (DRAGON…Did he say DRAGON?)
· An elven ranger passed through a tenday ago, claiming he had encountered a dragon at night in the Thunder Peaks. (Sweeeeettttt. Pepto was right.)
· A patrol of Riders led by Jerrod Rold has been missing for several months north og Glen and is now presumed dead. (Haven't been to Glen. Maybe we should ask the dwarves more about this.)
· Corporal Sabine led a patrol to the caves northwest of Peldan's Helm three weeks ago and said things were quiet, too quiet. They withdrew without entering the caves. (Caves are dirty places.)
· Grain stocks are good for this winter but meat is scarce; the stream has frozen so there are no fish. (Don't look at me. Go ask the Archer.)
· A madman came through two tendays back babbling about dead dragons inheriting the earth; he said he was headed into the elven wood, the fool. (Not so mad. Not so foolish. But I think I'd like to have a little 
divine back up.)


----------



## diaglo

*A fireside Chat*

"BBBbbbbrrrrr," Fiddle trudged back inside the inn. "It is not fit for hin nor beast." No one seemed to pay him any mind. Which of course was a little irritating to Fiddle. So he moseyed over to Richter’s table.

"Well, since we're trapped here, I plan on seeing what’s wrong with this cobbler. If a priest can’t heal him, I wonder what’s going on. I’ve done some talking to some people and I found out that Kelemvor alone knows what ancient magic lies below the barrow downs. That’s where Himool went. If possible, I’d like to go there. I need to start 
my path towards becoming his hand, a paladin. I’m sure the test lies there."

Richter looked to those around, "Well, what say you?"

Fiddle replied, "I also heard some interesting news. It appears the Downs are a busy place. A gnome from Tilverton passed through a tenday back heading for Ashabenford. He reported black-garbed riders searching the downs to the west, and mentioned the church of Lathander in Tilverton is looking for adventurers to recover a lost magical sword. I'm wondering if the sword HiMool carries is that sword. Just how many magic swords are there in these parts?"

After hearing the halfing’s comments Veridian thinks to himself "Three so far, not including a certain magic stick" (the 2 we found plus Himool's).

"I agree with Richter, they said they cleared barely a portion of the tombs, and we could at least gain a map of what they've already explored. Though as a follower of Kelemvor I'm sure you'd know better than I, Richter. Also I heard on the wind from some of my kin that both living and dead have been seen walking around in ruins just north of here, as well as some gnolls 
and hobgoblins.  And I apologize for my abrupt response to you yesterday, Richter, I react badly when approached suddenly in an accusing tome of voice, my response was unwarranted and I am sorry.”

Hawk looked up from his mulled wine and bread and though not exposing his face from the nose up replied, "I have no quarrel with the dead and my bow, however mighty it is, is of little use against the dead or undead. However, I hear that there is a Medicant Priest of Lathander staying with Father Ambercrombie at the moment. Perhaps he knows more of the quest for the magic sword or the illness here at the Helm?"

Fiddle face broke into a huge smile, "Now that is good news. I wouldn't go anywhere near the dead without a Priest. Let's hope he can be persuaded."


----------



## diaglo

*The Monk chimes in...*

"As regards to the local gossip, I'll do what I can to help out this
ill fellow, but I'm also up for visiting either set of ancient ruins (the barrows or the ruins to the north). I don't approve of Fiddle 'liberating' that sword from Himool, but then again, I think Himool is full of himself and a twit to boot, not to mention a grave robber, so if the sword were to find its way into the party I doubt I'd say anything. The rumors of a dragon (Dragon you say? ;-))  only interest me in the thoughts of protecting the common folk,  and of the rumored ancient treasures (and hopefully knowledge!) that dragons possess," Erin the monk of the Old Order chimed in.

Fiddle's smile faded, replaced by a tinge of red around his cheeks. He looked slightly embarrassed. But it soon faded, too.

Richter nodded and took a sip of wine. "Well lets see whats wrong with this ill man first and then head to the Barrows or Ruins. We need to decide which. The ruins lie to the north so i dont think thats too far but the Barrows lie to the south. Granted, its cold but we cant let the filthy unliving walk Toril."
Vlad added, "Himool has been decribing one of the Barrows they didn't enter as a large flat-topped mound, with large stones placed on top so as to resemble a grinning skull" 
Fiddle hopped from one foot to the other,"The Barrowfields lie 30 miles south and east of Peldan's Helm. I'm guessing 2 days travel, but with the heavy snow, I don't know how much ground we can cover per day. I have some knowledge of surviving the wilds, but I'm not sure if I can be of much use to a large group. You all do have winter gear, right? This ruin in the North sounds closer. But it also sounds very deadly. Both living and unliving creatures plus possible divine agents. More and more, I hope Hawk is right about the Lathanderite."
Veridian said, "As much 'fun' as it would be 'merrily tramp around' in 3 feet of snow for a week, those barrows have been there for a while, I'd just as soon let them sit a few months until spring thaw, and focus out efforts right now on stuff that involves as little chance of freezing to death as possible. If you really want to go fight undead the ruins are closer as such probably
present more of a danger to inhabited areas. Though truth be told *lowers voice* if we have to go out at all I wouldn't mind warming my hands by that flaming sword at night. There has to be some way we can get it out of Himools hands...(looks over at Richter)...legally of course. Buy it or trade it, maybe with a well placed wager or a contest?"
As an aside, Veridian thought, "He's so full of himself I think he'd walk right into the old heads I win, tails you lose trick. Maybe the old shell game or some more original variation."


----------



## diaglo

*Decisions, decisions*

Richter looked at the elf. "I'd rather not wait until Spring. By that time, there could be more of the undead spawn. More spawn may mean more challenge, but it also means it will be more deadly. The ruins or the Barrows, I don't care which. Hawk, why don't you go talk to that Lathanderite chap and see if he will accompany us."

Richter took a sip of wine and continued. "As for Himool, if you can retrieve the sword legally, I have no problem with what you are planning. I am a noble and I keep my word and obey the law. Sometimes, however, that gets me into trouble."

Hawk sipped some more wine and tore idly into the bread as he thought about it- he cocked his cowled head to one side and said slowly, "My impression of the Son of the
Dawn is that he is one who'd be interested in this sort of thing. He seems to me like a Paladin in many ways but perhaps with less rods up his arse. If you can pry him away from the ill man at the temple then you may find him to be of use in dark places. After
all, his God is the God of the Dawn and rumor places that this Priest has a special hate for the undead..."

Richter looked at Hawk. "I am seeking Paladinhood and the priests of  Kelemvor hate the undead slightly more than the Lathanderites my friend."

Hawk smirked and replied sardonically, "Perception, my friend. It's all from your own perspective. But perhaps you should test your hatred for the undead alongside the Lathanderite and see who is best able to accomplish the task. Thereby the 'proof', as they say, would be 'in the doing'. That is of course, that you can pry him out of that nice warm temple with a helpless victim to care for."

"I like pudding," Fiddle's mouth began to water. "But I prefer pie. A nice, hot pie. My Aunt always said, never turn down a good pie or pudding. Proof in it or not."


----------



## diaglo

*More news (clack); Elves have big ears.*

The door to the inn was thrown open. And a patrol entered. They looked weary.

"Wulf," Sabine called out. "Something hot and spicy. I can barely feel my fingers."

Sabine began telling Wulf all the latest news. Veridian heard teh whole report. Her patrol was sent out to the north to investigate the rumors of gnolls at ruins in the forest.  They discovered tracks of gnolls, humans, and some large beast before having to turn back because of deep snow and worsening weather.

Veridian also had something new to add to the conversation at the party's table. He overheard parts of a whispered conversation between Himool and the wizard Carl:  " northern barrow ...riddle on door ... likely Netherese origin ... strong magic aura ... Mask of Races ... probably Damarran ...".  He was unable to determine any more.  Veridian seemed overjoyed with himself with his ability to eavesdrop on other's conversations.


----------



## diaglo

*Meta blurs with IC...*

Fiddle asked, "So what does anyone know about gnolls and their habits? Does this sound a little strange to you? I mean gnolls and humans together. Or a large beast...Hmmm...I wonder...could it be a..." 
"Fiddle, I don't think a dragon would be working with gnolls and humans." Richter interrupted. "It may have them as apetizers, perhaps. We still need to figure out what we will do after we talk to this priest of Lathander."
"Dragon, did you say?" Fiddle smiled. "I was wondering about a beast of burden. Though, I'll never be one.  Something like an oxen or horse. But a dragon...oh boy, now that would be something." 
"Descions?" Richter ignored the halfling.
"Are we killing the progeny of some family? " Fiddle joked and then fidgeted, "no it appears no other decisions are being made as to what direction we will be travelling."
Veridian added, "That depends on whether or not you decide to pick pocket Richter again I suppose. Although we do need to decide if we want to try to get the sword from Himool or not."
"Undead," Richter's patience wore thin. "Decide away. I will have no part in it (the things concerning Himool). I am LG."
"LG?," Fiddle remarked. "Is that anything like Lawful Stupid? One of those rod up the arse paladins." 
Hawk shook his head beneath his cowl. Vlad excused himself.


----------



## Angelsboi

oh my god.  I cant believe i wrote LG in that damned email LOL


----------



## diaglo

*Spring thaw*

The winter passed by incredibly slowly. Fiddle spent many hours mooching off of Himool’s hospitality. But he was no closer to figuring out a way to separate the elf from his blade. The female elf also spent long hours in their company. Fiddle suspected she was keeping an eye on him. Ratttsss. This also meant Fiddle knew everything there was to know about Himool. The elf told and retold the tales of his exploits. Fiddle feigned interest. Why not, there was little else to do in Peldan’s Helm.

The Lathanderite priest turned out to be Hawk. His real name was Darian. He like Richter was from a noble family in Cormyr. Darian spent the long winter months caring for Reese the Cobbler. Age had caught up to the old man. And Darian listened to his tales and comforted him as best he could. Richter too was a frequent visitor. But there was nothing they could do to prevent the passage of time. Darian guessed the cobbler would see the Summer, but not much after.

Veridian was busy too during the wait. He sold the horses and riding dogs. He traded in the old party’s supplies. And he wrote messages to his sister. None of this did he share with the others.

Vlad and Erin spent many hours at Wulf’s inn. Erin meditated. And Vlad, well, did whatever he did. He kept to himself mostly.

As the snow cleared the dwarves set off for the Thunder Peaks. And Himool and his band departed for the Barrowfields. The remaining adventurers met one morning for breakfast.


----------



## diaglo

*Last minute preparations*

“Blessed be the Morning,” Darian blessed the breakfast. “For it gives rise to a new day. In Lathander’s name we give praise.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Veridian mumbled.

“Please pass the marmalade,” Fiddle asked. Fiddle attacked a large mound of butter and toast in front of him.

“Undead,” Richter blurted. “I say we head to the Barrowfields after Himool’s party.”

“Too early,” Vlad smacked his head. “I’m going back to bed. If you leave before I’m awake just let me say Good Luck now.” Vlad stumbled back to his room.

“It was another late night for that one,” Erin mentioned. “I would agree the Barrows do sound tempting. But let me add another opinion. The undead can wait. The people of Peldan’s Helm, I believe, are more concerned with the living dangers. The gnolls, evil doers, and the ruins to the North sound like more of a present threat.”

“Aye,” Sabine from the next table interrupted. “This winter our patrol found signs of activity near the ruins. We didn’t investigate further.”

“Rffruins,” Fiddle sprayed crumbs out of his mouth as he spoke. “Wffhat kindf off twhacckks did you ffindf?”

“A rather large creature, but not a bear,” Sabine replied. “But I’m not an expert. Our scouts were unable to guess. Plus we found tracks of the gnolls and possible humans. How did you know about that? ”

“I am an elf,” Veridian tugged on his ears.

Sabine rose and left for her duties.

“Fine,” Richter conceded. “The ruins it is. But later we must help Eliar defeat the allip.”

“As you wish,” Erin bowed. “Is everyone ready?”

Fiddle reached down and picked up his pack. The others were likewise prepared. Everyone was antsy to hit the road.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

You gonna change the title again?


----------



## diaglo

*Pop goes the Weasel*

Fiddle led the way. The road was muddy in spots but an easy trek. Erin’s pet weasel, Pop, rode on the monk’s shoulders and scurried into the brush from time to time.  Veridian and Darian had mounts. But since the going was slow, they chose to walk also. Richter and Darian chatted about their home. Fiddle tried to find tracks. Any tracks. Something to keep his mind and his sanity from straying. The chatter from the birds and insects was unnerving. Spring was in the air. Half a day’s trek from Peldan’s Helm the noise stopped. And then was interrupted by a ghostly whistle. A voice carried on the wind.

“Who’s there?” Richter called out.

“The old hermit,” Darian offered. “That’s my guess.”

No one replied.

“Something’s coming,” Erin twitched. “Pop is being chased back here.”

Fiddle ducked under cover of the bushes.

“Fiddle?” Richter called out.

Pop ran up Erin’s body and onto his shoulder. A very large striped animal shook the brush and poked his masked face out. It didn’t come any closer.

“Let’s get going,” Darian said. “It is protecting its territory.”

“Wait for me,” Fiddle ran to catch up. The dire badger watched but didn’t give chase.


----------



## Angelsboi

And everyone will laugh when they realize Karma does play a part in the fantasy world ...


----------



## diaglo

*d00d....*

The party reached a fork in the road. A trail meandered to the West and another continued North.

“North,” Erin said before anyone could ask. “I believe I recall Sabine saying the Ruins were off the North trail.”

“And Reese mentioned,” Darian added. “The West trail leads to the Caves of Chaos.”

So North they went. A little while later a large stone obelisk rose up in the middle of the path. Fiddle raised his hand for the group to stop. He saw something. Erin, Veridian, and Fiddle crept forward. Richter and Darian looked around. They didn’t see anything, so they started up a conversation. Fiddle smacked his forehead.

“Hello,” Erin said to the obelisk. “You can come out. We mean you no harm.”

A hairy, dirty fellow stuck his head out from behind the stone. Erin and Veridian talked to the man. He was a human. Fiddle turned back to the others and waved his arms frantically. Richter and Darian didn’t notice. When Fiddle turned back the conversation was still going.

“Del,” the man said. “And these are my friends. Would you like to talk to Del’s friends?”  He held out his hand. A flea hopped up and down on his palm.

“D00d,” Fiddle yelled back to Richter and Darian. “You need to get a Dell.”

“Dragon,” Del continued. “Blue and gray with yellow stripes.”

“Dragon, did you say?” Richter beat Fiddle to the punch.

“Yes,” Del answered. “In the ruins over the hill.”

“Thank you,” Darian said. “We must be leaving.”

Veridian, Fiddle, and Richter were already ahead. Erin bowed to Del and followed with Darian.


----------



## diaglo

*Eat me...*

Maybe Del was just a mad hermit. Dragon indeed. An hour or so down the path, the party climbed a hill. And from the ridge, they could see the ruins. A moathouse or more precisely the remains of one lay below. The water still flowed around the collapsed structure. The drawbridge was down. The three round towers were burnt and crumpled. The larger main tower still had some supports.

"Give me 10 minutes," Fiddle disappeared into the brush.

Fiddle searched for tracks, signs, hints, clues, whatever...all the while staying hidden and moving closer.

"Where'd Fiddle go?" Richter asked. He and Darian had once again been talking and hadn't noticed the hin leave.

"He's down there among those reeds," Erin pointed. "See how they rustle."

SSSpppLLlattt

A very large, very sticky tongue struck Fiddle in the chest.

"AAAAAYYYYEEEEllllpppp," Fiddle screamed and tried to resist.

A large frog had him. Luckily Fiddle had his daggers handy. He leapt forward and stabbed one into the frog's hide.

Guuulllpp. Fiddle was gone. The frog leapt into the moat.

Richter, Darian, Erin, and Veridian ran down to the water's edge.


----------



## diaglo

*Utreshimon's Grand Entrance*

Like an alien  Fiddle burst from the frog's stomach. He immediately began to tread water. Darian reached down and pulled him out of the water.

"Yuuck," Fiddle moaned. "I've been swallowed whole. I'm never going.."

Darian dunked him back into the water. He pulled a bar of soap out with his other hand and began scrubbing the hin clean.

"So much for the element of surprise," Veridian stood nearby laughing.

Richter and Erin had already crossed the drawbridge and started to enter the courtyard. The others followed as quietly as possible. Fiddle vanished into a side tower on the Southwest corner. He drew his sword and dagger. The roof and interior were part of a pile of rubble. Richter crossed the courtyard to the Northwest. Erin crawled along the East wall. Veridian and Darian stood at the entrance in the South. Now that the party was inside the walls they got a close look at the destruction.

A smear of what looked like dried blood and a curved dagger covered the center of the courtyard. Erin reached out with some magic. A hand guided the blade to his side.

A large presence appeared at the doorway to the Main Tower. It looked like a dark blue or black lizard with horns and wings. Veridian fired an arrow, striking the creature. Fiddle turned and saw his enemy. He slunk along the wall to get within range. Richter tossed down his whip and drew his sword. He poised to strike. Erin cast a swarm of magic over his body. Darian summoned Lathander's weapon, a mace. It swung wildly over the lizard's head.

CCCCRRRACCKKLLLLEeeee

A bolt of lightning struck near Richter. The dragon launched into the air. A momentary bout of sneezing caught everyone as the dust and debris of the moathouse began to swirl in an obscuring cloud.  Richter charged forward his sword batted aside by the dragon's wing. Veridian fired another arrow into the cloud. Fiddle crept closer. Erin summoned a magical field in front of himself. He moved to the dragon. Well, only Richter could see the dragon now. But everyone else had an idea. Darian's divine mace swung wild again. Darian called for another of Lathander's spells. He protected himself from the force of static elements. The Dragon bit down on the monk and clawed and raked him. Lucky for him his training had included strength of body. He would need it.

Richter moved forward and struck with his sword. Veridian fired another arrow into the cloud. This one struck something. Only Richter and Erin knew it wasn't them. Fiddle crept closer. Erin landed a blow with his palm. Darian's mace swung again. He charged forward with his shield leading. The Lathanderite connected and drove the beast backwards. The Dragon repositioned and clawed, raked, and bit into the party. Richter nearly fell. Erin and Darian weren't much better.

Veridian couldn't see at all. He pulled out Hoardmaster. "To me," he yelled. "Someone come to me I have something that can help."

Fiddle crept closer. Erin's palm did not strike true. Darian swung his own mace. The other swung and vanished. The dragon had another go at the party with his deadly routine.

Richter ran back to Veridian. Veridian tossed him Hoardmaster. Fiddle charged into the fracas. He tumbled under the dragon's belly and struck from the other side. Sand must have blinded him. He missed..

"Die spawn die," Fiddle shouted in draconic.

Erin struck again. Darian stepped back and healed himself.

"Hmmm, a snack," Utreshimon replied in draconic. The dragon attacked the monk and hin.

Richter charged back into the cloud with Hoardmaster leading. He stabbed deep into the dragon's hide. Veridian fired an arrow into the cloud. Fiddle leapt up into the air. He used his sword and dagger combination. A hit, a most definite hit...

Erin glanced off the dragon again. Darian too missed. The Dragon launched himself higher and into the mist. The cloud vanished over the Southwest wall, Richter and Veridian in pursuit.

"You want the truth," Fiddle flexed his muscles. "You can't handle the truth.  You're afraid of me." He cackled with pure glee.


----------



## diaglo

*Aftermath*

Fiddle went inside the Dragon's Lair. Darian saw to Erin and Richter's wounds. Veridian pulled a potion out and waited for the Dragon to return. Richter returned Hoardmaster to him.

Fiddle discovered two bodies inside. Both had been ravaged by the Dragon. Still he didn't trust them. He walked over to each body and plunged his blades in deep. He was searching one of them when Darian and Richter entered.

Fiddle found an amulet, fine shortbow, a quiver of arrows, picks & tools, leather armor, longsword, a sack of coins, and 3 small pieces of jade. He kept the amulet and jade hidden. He took the shortbow, coins, and quiver of arrows. The rest he set aside in plain view. Darian concentrated on auras of magic. He discovered a scroll and a mace on the other body. A search also uncovered another amulet. A hand with a mouth in the palm.

"Moandites," Richter spat. Fiddle made sure his new amulet was still hidden. He tossed Darian the sack of coins. Veridian and Erin entered.

"No sign of the Dragon," Erin said.

Veridian looked over the picks & tools. He wasn't impressed. Fiddle, Richter, and Erin scouted out some of the area. Other than a few coins not much was to be had. The destruction was pretty apparent. One stairway did lead down off of what could only be guessed to be the former Hall.

SSwwooopp

A large pseudopod took a swing at Fiddle as he was scavaging down one corridor alone. He ran.

"Pod," the hin screamed.

"Whatever," Veridian replied.

Content that they had recovered what they could and not anxious to meet the Dragon a second time while still injured, the party headed back to the obelisk.


----------



## diaglo

*Earthdawn*

They made camp and chose watches. Darian saw to the wounded again. Fiddle helped as best he could. Fiddle also rigged a series of trip lines just in case. In the morning, Darian greeted the Sun and said a blessing for a new day. Movement caught the priest's eye.

"You have returned," Del greeted them.

Darian used his powers of persuasion to convince Del all was well. He began to drone on about the powers of Lathander and the Sun.

"I call him Bob," Del smiled and pointed at the Sun. "Teach me more about Bob."

Richter came to Darian's aid. They convinced Del to come with them to the Ruins. Now that the Dragon was gone. Well, at least as far as anyone knew. Fiddle hoped the blue would return.

The party quietly made their way down to the Ruins again. Nothing had changed since the night before. Erin, Fiddle, and Veridian volunteered to circle around the outside of the Ruins. They would enter the Dragon's Lair thru a crack in the wall. Darian and Richter along with Del would wait in the courtyard.

The plan went well. Erin, Fiddle and Veridian entered the Lair. Nothing. So Veridian went to open the door to the antechamber and then get the rest.

SSSiizzzzzzzzllleee

CLappp

The elf ducked just in time. A bolt of lightning struck the wall behind him. 

Richter and Darian both heard the Clappp. Darian cast a spell on Richter's armor. They moved closer to the battle. The Dragon waited for someone to come into view. Erin quickly coated himself in magic. Fiddle edged closer to the door. Veridian checked himself.

Darian cast a blessing upon his shield. They were close enough to see the Dragon, but far enough away not to draw its attention. The Dragon waited some more. Erin brought his magical force field into being. He was ready to engage in combat now. Fiddle still guarded the door. Veridian pulled his bow and tried to edge for a shot into the next room. 

"Huzzah," Darian and Richter yelled as they charged the Dragon.

The Dragon bit down hard on Richter. The two humans assaulted the Dragon. Both landed serious blows. Erin moved thru the door. Fiddle was right behind him. Veridian used the wall and door as cover. He moved behind Darian and Richter. The Dragon was backed up into a corner.

The Dragon clawed, bit, and buffeted the party.  Richter went down. Darian stepped back and healed the fallen. Richter regained consciousness. Erin landed a blow. Fiddle had two attempts. But missed both times. Veridian poured a potion into Richter returning him to almost normal.

CCCrraccckkkk

The Dragon breathed again. It struck Veridian full on. Richter was partially shielded from the full force. But he still went down again. Darian moved into melee. Erin and Fiddle's attacks did little but distract the Dragon.

The Dragon attacked the three remaining combatants. Darian went down from a bite. Erin landed another blow. And Fiddle ended its life.


----------



## diaglo

*Call of Cthulu*

"Who's Da Hin?" Fiddle lauded. "King Azoun ain't got nothing on me."

Darian had somehow arisen from the ground. A miracle? Not quite, he was still very wounded. However, it was a gift from his God. He cast a spell to heal Richter. Fiddle was in the process of checking for a pulse.

"Fiddle," Richter grabbed the hin. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking to make sure you were still alive," Fiddle replied indignant. "He's not." Fiddle indicated Veridian. A pack already hung from Fiddle's shoulder. He would check it later.

Richter rolled over and helped Darian prepare the body. Richter performed last rites for the dead. Erin was sorting thru the elf's possessions.

"Let us head back to Peldan's Helm," Erin stated. "We can figure out what to do with Veridian once we get there."

Fiddle skinned the Dragon. Richter and Darian took an odd assortment of parts off the carcass including teeth, claws, and horns. Most of what Fiddle found in Veridian's pack he gave to Erin. Only Erin knew what he had kept. 

Del waited for the party outside the Ruins.

"You killed him," Del cried. "Oh, the poor thing."

No one corrected Del. They were too injured to bother. They left for the Helm as fast and as safe as they could. Del remained behind at the obelisk.


----------



## diaglo

*Liar, liar, pants are on fire.*

“Halt, who goes there?” Sabine called out from the Gate.

“Dragonslayers,” Fiddle replied. He proudly displayed the hide he had taken from the Blue.

A collective Ohh and Ahh came from the crowd just inside.

The party made their way to Wulf’s inn. Veridian’s remains were deposited upstairs. Erin remained with the corpse and party’s gear. He began to sort out the shares. Fiddle went into the Common Room and began the tale of the Dragon’s End. Darian and Richter had other concerns. They took Hoardmaster with them to Eliar.

Fiddle was just wrapping up his tale when Richter and Darian returned. A young female elf was with them. She had a very serious look on her face.

“And that’s when I thrust my blade into the Dragon’s belly,” Fiddle finished. He turned to the others.

“It is true,” Darian confirmed. “He landed the killing blow.” Richter nodded. “Uh, Fiddle, where is the scarab?”

“Scarab?” Fiddle looked befuddled. “What’s that?”

“We better do this someplace else,” the female elf hinted.

Darian spoke with Wulf. He then turned to the hin and mumbled a prayer.

“We are in a Zone of truth,” the priest said. “Fiddle, what have you done with Veridian’s scarab?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Fiddle replied. Everyone heard him.

The lady elf begged again to take this elsewhere. Richter led everyone to the party’s room.


----------



## diaglo

*The old rat bastard switcheroo*

As the party entered the room; Erin stood, bowed, and introduced himself.

“Alia,” the lady elf replied. “Veridian was my brother.”

“What can we do for you?” Erin asked.

“I’m looking for my brother’s things,” Alia continued. “And one item in particular, a scarab.”

Everyone but Erin looked at Fiddle.

“Can you describe this scarab and what it does?” Erin ignored the others.

“I could, but it is a long story,” Alia answered.

When no one said anything more, Alia told her tale. Well, Veridian’s tale really. (I’ll let biorph fill you in) Darian and Richter prepared a meal and refreshments for the party as the story unfolded. Fiddle made himself comfortable. He checked his pack.

“Fiddle,” Erin said when Alia was done. “Give Alia the scarab.”

“I don’t have it,” Fiddle remarked.

“We already cast a Zone of truth on him,” Darian mentioned.

Alia started to move towards the hin. “Shake it out of him.”

“Try it,” Fiddle grabbed his blades.

Erin calmly went over to the packs. He rummaged thru his own, then Richter’s, and Darian’s. The scarab spilled out of Darian’s pack.


----------



## diaglo

**

Darian had also promised Alia her brother’s things with some exceptions. Darian placed the scarab, the Moandite rings, and the amulet off the cleric from the Dragon’s Lair into a sack. Fiddle pulled the amulet from the rogue out of his pack and handed it to Darian. Oops.  Fiddle left the room with his pack before Darian gave anything else away. He wasn’t returning anything. Erin and Richter went with him. They took the Dragon hide to the tanner. They wanted a set of gloves for everyone. It would take a couple days. Erin took the coins to the bank.

When Richter returned Alia demanded her brother’s set of gloves.  

Darian and Richter’s visit with Eliar was also important. In exchange for Hoardmaster, the elderly elf had agreed to identify some of the party’s items, mostly the items off Veridian. Veridian hadn’t told anyone what he had. But Darian had a magical mace from the dead cleric. It would improve his prowess in battle. And a dozen magical arrows from the rogue were also identified. Alia took them.   Things were quite confusing during the day’s wait. But eventually, everyone was healthy again and the party had acquired a storyteller, aka liar, in exchange for an archer.

Fiddle seriously considered performing a coup de grace on the Liar when she was in respite. She took everything. And everyone believed her tale without any proof. He could find another party with better opportunities. But maybe just maybe this one would prove useful when trained properly.

They set off again for the Ruins. Fiddle took point. It had been two days since they killed the Dragon. Who knew what besides the blob would be occupying the place now. Speculation ran rampant.


----------



## diaglo

*Down the worn path*

The party approached the obelisk. Fiddle slowed to check for tracks. Richter and Darian walked on by deep in conversation. Erin and Alia stopped near Fiddle.

"Anything?" Erin asked the ranger.

"Well, I did find the tracks of a human or humanoid, but," Fiddle pointed to the Slayer and Priest.

"Oops," Richter stopped.

Fiddle continued his search. He found tracks leading South and slightly East. Many other woodland creatures had also crossed the path near the obelisk.

"Del," Darian called out.

"I think these tracks probably belong to Del," Fiddle said as he came back.

"Good enough for me," Erin replied. "I'm heading to the Ruins."

Alia and Fiddle followed the monk. Darian and Richter stayed behind calling for Del. They were last seen heading down the trail the tracks had shown.

As the group crested the now familiar hill, the Ruins looked unchanged. They stopped for a swallow of water from their skins. They chatted some. Alia tried to ease the tension her arrival had created with Fiddle. Fiddle turned to the sound of boots approaching. Richter and Darian arrived sans Del. Fiddle once again took point.

The party walked down to the Ruins and crossed the drawbridge. Nothing. They crossed the courtyard. Fiddle looked for tracks. Everyone else kept an eye out for trouble.

SSSSsssmackkk


----------



## diaglo

*Dog fight*

An arrow struck Fiddle as he was bending down looking for tracks. He rolled to the side and sprinted to cover. A gnoll with a bow stood just inside the door to the Dragon's Lair. He was mostly covered by the wall. Erin ran to Fiddle's side. He coated himself in magic. Darian moved behind the elf and summoned Lathander's mace. It attacked the gnoll. Richter charged up to the doorway. He had his sword in hand. Two more gnolls appeared around Richter. Alia hummed a scale or two of fine notes. A blob of grease coated the floor by the door. Richter and one of the gnolls went down.

The 2 gnolls hacked at Richter with their battle axes. Neither could penetrate his armor. Another gnoll appeared with a bow. He fired at Alia. The fourth tried to stand. Fiddle climbed thru a window. Erin summoned his force field. He was now ready to rumble. He moved into the doorway. Darian moved to Richter's side with his new mace. His deity's mace swung again. Richter stood back up and hacked the fallen gnoll. Alia sang a different tune. And one of the gnolls now stood covered in pieces of his former battle axe. It had shattered. She moved forward. The gnolls tried different tactics. The archer dropped his bow and drew his battle axe. The empty-handed one stepped back and picked up the bow. The fallen one stood up and moved to one side of Erin. And the last one attacked Erin.

Fiddle moved in from behind. He buried his sword into the gnoll's back, a kidney shot. The gnoll collapsed.

"Hiya," Fiddle waved to Erin. Erin waved back in a flurry of movement. He laid the injured gnoll low. Darian and his maces attacked  the axegnoll. Richter finished him. Alia fell in her own grease trying to cross the threshold. The archer fled thru another doorway.

"He's getting away," Richter called out.

"No, he's not," Erin responded.

Fiddle gave chase. The gnoll was too fast and already too far away for him to reach. Erin had no problem catching and killing the gnoll. Darian, Richter, and Alia began the task of searching the bodies. Erin and Fiddle found a never before seen doorway ajar. It led to a secret passage down. The gnolls had a few coins and some equipment worth keeping. Fiddle took the arrows.


----------



## diaglo

*Ding, ding, ding Round Two*

"Do we try the new stairs or the old ones we found before?" Erin asked. Both were just off the Dragon's Lair.

"Is anyone hurt?" Darian asked.

"Looks like we freed those gnolls," Richter said. "I bet the Dragon had them trapped below."

Alia saw to Fiddle's wound. No one wanted to make a decision. Erin threw up his hands. He moved to the secret passage. Fiddle ran ahead. He examined the stairs for signs of danger and tracks. He looked around for any hint of their foes. Nothing. Alia moved in behind him followed by Erin, Richter, and Darian. Erin tossed his stone into the air. It illuminated the area. Fiddle tucked his coin into place. He pulled his bow and nocked an arrow.

Fiddle just reached the bottom of the stairs, when movement caught his eye. Two gnolls and a female human were inside a chamber. The human looked like a priestess with her baubles and things scattered in front of her on a sheet. They spotted Fiddle and Alia also. The others were still on the stairs around a corner.

Fiddle fired his arrow into one of the gnolls’ chests seriously wounding it. Richter charged passed. He tackled the priestess. His armor spikes pierced her skin. Alia fired an arrow and finished the gnoll. The other gnoll struck Richter across the backside. Blood flowed freely. The priestess wiggled free. Erin moved forward and engaged the gnoll. He slapped it hard. Darian called on Lathander’s might. The priestess and the gnoll started to cook inside their armor.

Fiddle put away his bow and drew his blades. He cut off the gnoll’s path out of the room. There were 2 closed doors off the chamber. Alia began to sing. She moved closer. Richter struck out at the priestess with his whip. It wrapped around her torso. The gnoll struck Richter from behind again. The Slayer collapsed. The priestess tried to summon her dark god's aid, but she was overcome by the heat of her armor. Erin struck the gnoll again. It gasped and fell. Darian moved to Richter’s side.

Fiddle ran across the room. He attacked the buckles to the woman’s armor with his dagger.  It fell away. He pushed the mail aside with his sword. The air was ripe with burning gnoll and human.

“I can’t do anything to stop it,” Darian shrugged. 

Fiddle bound and gagged the woman. Erin and Alia searched the blanket. Darian brought Richter back from the edge of death and then to consciousness.


----------



## diaglo

*what to do with a POW*

Darian and Richter applied water to the evil woman's face. They pulled the gag out. She stirred and began to laugh.

"What are you doing here?" Richter started. "And do you worship Moander?"

The woman refused to answer. Darian pried her mouth open to see if she had a tongue. She was just crazy. She began to cackle louder. Fiddle struck her with the back of his gloved hand. She went limp and quiet again. Fiddle stuffed the gag back into her mouth. Fiddle was afraid the woman was attempting to warn the nearby rooms.

Alia and Erin had discovered some interesting but strange items. An iron torch with three black cones; a black scepter with violet gems; a small black sphere; and a black metal tube. They also gathered the weapons, coins,  and armor. Another medallion, which Darian quickly placed with the others, was also found.

"I'll take her and these objects back with me to Peldan's Helm," Richter offered. "Maybe Eliar, Jadaele, Sabine, or Abercrombie might know their meaning. Or get her to talk."

The others checked their readiness. None of those remaining were injured. And the spellcasters still had most of their spells. Fiddle wondered if they had enough firepower for what lie ahead. No one knew what lie ahead. All they knew about was the Dragon and now a band of gnolls with human priests. Fiddle wished Vlad were here to replace Richter. But he did agree someone needed to question the priestess.

"Caution would be the better part of valor," Fiddle said aloud, but more to himself. "Yet, surprise is our ally. They don't know we have returned. They will know when someone comes to replace these guards."

(insert Fortune Cookie saying here) Erin added.


----------



## diaglo

Update after this Sunday.

Alia, Fiddle, Darian, Erin and maybe Vlad. Richter can't make it. so he has taken the prisoner and items back to Peldan's Helm. and the new guy won't be there either.

Now that we are underground, we will need to check out what's behind doors #1 & 2. or maybe backtrack and come down the other stairway. still have to be careful of all the trouble killing the guards may have caused.

and Olgar (the DM) just got his Chainmail order in. so new minis may abound.


----------



## diaglo

*When the dead don't rest*

"Now that Richter's gone," Alia said, "what do we do now?"

"Why explore, of course." Vlad replied as he came down the stairs and into the room.

Fiddle and the others were glad to see the warrior.  Perhaps, a strong arm would be needed in the struggle ahead. Erin was already bending his ear to the task. Fiddle took his cue and listened at the other door. Nothing. So Erin opened Door #1. A trail of debris was hastily pushed aside inside the room. It led to another door. Erin, Fiddle, Vlad, and Alia crept forward. Darian noisily brought up the rear.

Erin opened the new door and entered a larger room. Fiddle and the others followed. A high chittering laugh caught the party’s attention. Two armed gnolls guarded a stairway to the West. They turned to face the party.

Alia sang out. A mass of grease swept one gnoll off its feet.  Darian braced his shield to meet the other gnoll. Vlad prepared to fire his bow. Erin mumbled his words of magic, his shield of force now complimented the cover of magic armor he still wore from before. Fiddle raced forward and threw his dagger into the neck of the prone gnoll. It stopped struggling. The other gnoll attempted to cross the grease slick. It fell. Vlad fired an arrow over its head as it fell. And Darian switched tactics. He surged forward and struck the creature with his mace.

Something groaned to the South. Alia turned to see what it was. Erin moved to the South. He saw a horrible sight, a creature long past death. It was a corpse, but yet it was still very much alive. And it also reeked of the grave. Erin moved closer. He struck out with his palm. The creature tried to bite him. 

“Ah priest, a little help.” Erin called out.

Fiddle moved forward on the gnoll. He struck it with his sword. Vlad moved further West into the room. He saw two more doors. He trained his bow on them just in case. Darian saw that Fiddle had things in hand and heard Erin’s call to battle the undead. He brought his holy symbol forward and moved to present it to the creature. It cowered and fled. Erin struck the corpse a glancing blow as it ran. The gnoll threw away its weapon and tried to show submission to the hin.

“I’ve got him,” Alia said to Fiddle. She began to sing a song of inspiration.

Erin followed the undead creature. When his glowing ioun stone picked out 3 more similar creatures he stepped back. Fiddle left the gnoll and headed to Erin’s side. Vlad continued to watch the doors. He moved closer to Alia and the gnoll. Darian moved forward to Erin’s side. He again presented his holy symbol. These 3 undead were not as strong as the first or the might of Lathander was greater this time. All three crumpled to the ground, dead once again.

Alia turned her song from one of inspiration to one of calming. The gnoll was mesmerized. Erin closed on the last creature. Fiddle did also. Vlad grabbed the gnoll’s weapons and moved to the South. Darian held his holy symbol forward. The creature defended itself. But couldn’t penetrate the monk’s magic.

Alia bound the gnoll. Erin struck the undead creature. The creature tried for an easier target. He bit Fiddle. Vlad charged forward and stabbed with his rapier. And Fiddle jabbed with his sword. Darian stood by with his symbol. Erin ended the creature’s state of unrest.


----------



## diaglo

*Spoon Wa aka Black Adder*

The party searched the bodies and room. Darian cured Fiddle's wound. Fiddle found a brazier. He lit the coals. He tossed pieces of the ghouls, gnoll, and ghast on the fire. They also found some torture devices and 3 open cells. In a fourth locked cell a skeleton hung from chains. Fiddle and Vlad both tried but failed to unlock the door. With nothing else to do the party regrouped.

"So lets see what's behind the other doors," Vlad said. He listened at one door and Fiddle at the other.

"All clear here." Fiddle said. 

Vlad motioned at his door. Fiddle stood ready. Vlad opened the door. And Fiddle tumbled inside. The rest of the party bunch together.

"Hello, I'm saved." the human inside called. Fiddle stayed his sword.

"Who are you?" Erin asked. "And why are you here?"

"I'm Spugnoir," the man replied. "I'm here collecting spell components for my master Norister the Mage of Ashabenford. Do you have any food and water?"

They handed the poor man some of their rations. He devoured them. In between bites he answered some questions. He also gave Alia a potion for the rescue and offered to accompany them further once he had rested. Fiddle showed off his Dragon glove. Spugnoir had some magic of his own that the party hoped would prove useful. The other room proved to be another store room. Some rusted tools and moldy supplies were the only items. That left only one unexplored door.

The party with Spugnoir and the bound gnoll made their way back to the original room. What's behind door #2?

Some bones. Several skeletons lay scattered about the room. Erin entered to start searching. The skeletons animated. Vlad ran past the monk and covered his side. A skeleton took a wild swing at him. Darian presented his holy symbol. Pooffff. The skeletons all collapsed.

"Let us rest," Alia said. "I've used up all of my magic for the day. Tomorrow I'll see about opening the cell."

Everyone agreed. They could use a rest. Spugnoir more than anyone. So they climbed back up the stairs. They set up camp in the Dragon's Lair. Fiddle thought to quiet the gnoll for the evening. Unfortunately, he didn't know his own strength or the condition of the gnoll. The hilt of his dagger struck the gnoll senseless and lifeless.

"Oops," Fiddle turned red with embarrassment.

Darian said last rites for the corpse.


----------



## diaglo

*Spike the door and the punch*

The party selected watches. Fiddle paid Spugnoir a visit. As the mage bent down to place his things aside, his pouch fell into Fiddle's hands. Fiddle tucked it away to examine later. The others were likewise getting settled. Alia had first watch. She woke Vlad for the second.

Vlad's boot struck Fiddle's side. "Huh?" Fiddle moaned. "It's not my turn yet."

"Gnollls," Vlad screamed as he moved passed. The sound of battle made Fiddle and Erin open their eyes.

Vlad was engaged with two gnolls. The larger one had a longsword in one hand and shortsword in the other. Fiddle recognized the technique. His companion had a battle axe. Another gnoll was moving by the stairway. Alia was in the Southwest corner about 20 ft from the melee. She was still sleeping. Fiddle was 10ft  due West of the fight.  Spugnoir slept soundly in the Northwest corner. Erin was across from Fiddle on the North wall. Darian was sleeping in his armor in the Northeast corner. Vlad was bleeding from several wounds already. One more and he would surely fall.

Fiddle crawled, rose, and sprinted from the room. He stood in the doorway drawing his weapons. Vlad ran to Spugnoir's side. Darian and Alia stirred. Erin mumbled a quick spell. His force shield appeared. The ranger gnoll and his companion engaged the monk. The other gnoll attacked Alia.

Fiddle ran back into the room. One of the gnolls made a serious mistake. He exposed his back to Fiddle. Fiddle plunged his sword in deep. The gnoll fell. Vlad threw a dagger at the ranger gnoll. Darian closed with the ranger gnoll. Alia stood and stabbed her attacker. Erin swung wild. He was still pretty groggy. Alia's gnoll struck a glancing blow. The ranger gnoll turned his attention on Darian. One, two quick strikes.

"Filthy humans," he growled. "My pack and I will carve you up for dinner."

Fiddle tumbled past the guard of the packmate. He missed the hin. Fiddle buried his sword into its kidneys. It went down.

"Hiya," Fiddle said to Alia as he turned to the last combatant.

Vlad downed a potion. Darian swung his mace. Alia moved around the battle and brought out her whip. It lashed the gnoll across the legs, but did little else. Erin struck the gnoll in the chest. The ranger gnoll continued to battle on. One, two. Darian fell.

Fiddle moved into position. Thrust. He scored a hit, but this fellow was made of sterner stuff. Vlad stepped up. He stabbed in with his rapier. Another red mark scarred the gnolls ribs. Alia lashed out with her whip again. The gnoll fell. Erin quickly bound the creature.

Fiddle prepared to aid Darian. But Darian was standing again. Not hearty, but definitely alive. Spugnoir continued to sleep.


----------



## diaglo

*A pact with the Pack*

Vlad set about spiking the door to the stairs. And Fiddle attacked the other door.

"Uh, guys," Darian interrupted as he pointed to the huge gaping hole in the Southeast corner. "Well, I guess that means we only have one place to watch now."

Darian took off his armor. The others settled back into the routine. Vlad finished out his watch. He woke Erin, who woke Fiddle, who woke Darian. Darian greeted the Sunrise in a very foul mood. Everyone went back to rest. What wounds were left Alia handled. 

The gnoll regained consciousness. Erin released the strap around its muzzle.

"Who are you?" Erin asked. "And why do you seek to harm us?"

"I am Gerrick," the gnoll replied. "And I am Chief of my pack. The humans ordered us to find out what was happening."

"You take orders from the humans?" Vlad interjected. "How is that?"

"We are mercenaries," Chief Gerrick answered. "We are strong warriors. Many weak people desire our prowess."

"Strong warriors?" Darian laughed.

"I took you down," Chief Gerrick retorted. He looked at Vlad also. Darian went quiet.

Fiddle strode forward. "We are kindred spirits," he said. "So I will offer you a deal." Fiddle made sure to display his Dragon glove.

Chief Gerrick seemed very impressed. "Deal?" he asked.

"I will pay you 100 gold talents for your services," Fiddle continued.

"It's your money," Alia remarked. "But I still won't trust him."

"Easy come, easy go," Fiddle winked. No one caught it.

Erin negotiated the rest of the pact. Half up front and half when the human priests were dead. Chief Gerrick would lead them. He would then depart with the remainder of his pack. But he needed his armor & swords back plus some form of healing. Darian obliged. Fiddle pulled 50 gold talents out of his pack. Erin undid the ropes.

"Are we going somewhere?" Spugnoir looked up from his spellbook.


----------



## diaglo

*Seven against two*

First things first. The party went back to the locked cell. Vlad and Fiddle had no better luck opening today. Alia sang her shrill song. The cell door shattered. Nothing worth noting inside. Darian said rites over the human remains. Erin coated himself in magic.

Fiddle quaffed his potion. He vanished from sight. Well almost. His glowing coin seemed to light an area just ahead of the party. Gerrick was true to his word. He led the party back to the stair room. Although this time he opened an undiscovered door. Followed quickly by another one. From there the party moved southeastwardly until they came to a fork. They could go East or South.

"My pack is that way," Gerrick said. "The priests are this way."

"Lead on," Erin said.

They went South and entered a large room. Another passage split to the West. There were 3 doors in the South.

"Where to now?" Erin asked.

Fiddle strolled out once again visible from the passage to the West. Gerrick moved to the Southeast. The door opened into another long passage.

"Douse your light," Gerrick instructed. "They will see us coming."

The party reluctantly  agreed. They readied their weapons. Fiddle had his bow. They felt along the wall and touched each other. They passed a passage going East and further down one going West. A bright  light was visible at the end of the tunnel. They went down a small flight of stairs. Gerrick rounded the corner.

"Geynor, I have brought you some visitors," Gerrick called out.

Alia was the first to react. She came around the corner and sang out a simple familiar tune. One of the occupants was coated in grease. He flailed about dropping his weapon and shield. Darian closed on the other priest striking him with his mace. Vlad darted forward to the greasy priest, a strange reptilian humanoid with a cruel toothy expression. Erin mumbled a spell and moved to Darian's side. His force shield was active. Gerrick charged the reptile.

"Kill the priest," Gerrick called out.

"Traitor," Geynor Ton yelled. "How is this possible?" He reached for his weapon.

The other priest called on his Dark Master. He was quickly engulfed in a fog. Spugnoir came round the corner, looked at the fog and stood back. 

"I guess a fireball is out of the question," Spugnoir said.

"I think he is there," Fiddle thought. He aimed and fired his bow. 

"Yellp," a voice growled. "I knew I shouldn't trust you."

"Oops, sorry, I've still got your 50 talents," Fiddle tried to appease the gnoll. He then quickly slung his bow and drew his steel.

Alia moved into the action. She stabbed at a figure in front of her. It was Geynor. Darian swung again. The Evil priest fell. Erin moved near the other figure. He caught air. Vlad stabbed into the mist. Gerrick ran. He was lost in the mist. A foul stench assailed the party. Alia and Fiddle began to retch. The reptile ran for the exit out of the fog and into Fiddle and Spugnoir. Fiddle stabbed out as he went by. And Spugnoir scratched it with his dagger. He then fired a volley of magic bolts from his fingers into the reptile's back.

"He's getting away," Fiddle closed on the creature and stabbed it again. His strength was failing him. He barely left a mark.

Alia continued to retch. Darian heard Fiddle and ran his way. He exited the fog and ran passed the reptilian priest. The creature clawed at him. Erin sealed the hall with Darian. Vlad stabbed from behind. They had him blocked. The reptile charged Darian. It bounced off the Shield of Lathander. Spugnoir stood by waiting for an opening. Fiddle plunged his dagger into the reptile. Another one bites the dust.


----------



## diaglo

*Disturbing the dead...*

Like all good adventurers the party quickly searched the bodies. The spoils included a couple potions, some nice armor, fine weapons, and a couple holy symbols. Darian pocketed the symbols to destroy later. Alia checked for magic, a pack registered and the potions. A scroll was found inside the pack. Some form of divine spells. A journal and some coins were also discovered inside the pack. Odd ramblings and a few unknown names.  A mention of the Dragon. A some new leader, Erlend. 

They had to wait a few minutes for the fog to clear before they could check the room. A strange black and green veined block rested beside a pulley system. The lift went down into a vast pit. A bone chilling numbness crept into the party's being the closer they got to the pit. In the distance a clang of metal was heard.

"Lets try the other passages," Darian offered. 

The party agreed. The first passage they came to when they started to backtrack led West. It had a slight bend, but eventual spilled into a musty room. Many alcoves lined the walls. Sarcophagi were stored in this crypt. A very uneasy, almost _unholy_ filling permeated the chamber. Four corpses lumbered out of the dark. They looked very much like the ones the party had encountered the day before.

Darian presented his holy symbol. The dark of the chamber seemed to flicker, but soon returned. Erin swept forward and planted his hand into the chest of one of the creatures. Alia and Vlad moved to Erin's side. They took turns stabbing the creature. The other three creatures closed ranks. They bit and clawed at Erin, Vlad, and Darian. But did little harm. Fiddle threw his dagger. The injured creature collapsed.

Darian called on Lathander's might again. He thrust his symbol  forward and higher. The three remaining creatures crumpled.

"I'm never gonna get this goo out of my robes," Erin said as he flicked slime off his hands.

"Allow me," Alia said as she sang a tune. The monk was soon very clean.

The party poked around. They found one small tunnel leading South and a false stone door which had a passage leading North. Both were hand carved and very small. Fiddle size.

"Lets try South," Fiddle said.


----------



## diaglo

*Dungeoncrawling or walking*

Right, right, right, scribble, scribble, scribble. Fiddle methodically marked each tunnel with chalk as he led the party into and around the tunnels. Everyone else had to crawl or bend. Darian, Alia, and Spugnoir stayed behind to consecrate the crypt or just to avoid crawling. Some time later into the mapping and discovery, Darian and Alia caught up. Spugnoir didn't join them. Good thing. As eventually the party found another black and green veined block. This one was larger and had an altar. The uneasy feeling was strong about the place. Fiddle led everyone out of the room. Right, right, right, scribble, scribble, scribble. Number 9...Number 9...Number 9...the party had doubled back on their route. Fiddle took the direct route back to the crypt chamber. Spugnoir was still waiting.

"Anything?" Spugnoir asked. He had collected some dust from the undead remains.

"Nothing  noteworthy," Fiddle remarked.

So they went North, thru the secret panel, along a passage, and up rungs carved into the wall. A false lid opened easy enough. Fiddle tumbled into the room. The torture chamber.

"Where to next?" Darian asked.

"Lets see if we can find where Gerrick ran off to," Erin replied. "We lost him in the fog. I bet he went back to his pack."

"I saw him," Spugnoir said. "He ran passed me."

"D'oh," Alia quipped. "I bet he's gone then."

The party returned to the stair room and the secret doors, only to find the passage beyond blocked by a portcullis. So they climbed back down into the crypt room and back the other way. When they got to the room with 3 doors they tried the other two. Other than a grating sound and some fun with lights not much else proved useful. They scoured the Chief's room again. Some strange dark liquid and finely powdered plant. Fiddle inhaled the powder.

ACCCccchhhoooo. 

And drank the dark liquid. It was okay, but would probably have been better tasting warmed. Now it was just bitter. The aroma was nice. Fiddle pulled out some of his earlier findings from his pack. Some dark greasy beans and a cloak. The party prepared for the worst. They stumbled back to the passage they had passed earlier. It was a dead end. But not really. The stone blocking the way didn't make sense. So they went to the pack lair instead. Nothing. well almost nothing. 3 more doors. Again the doors proved to be false or misleading. But the party still spent time messing with them. A few more cloaks and various odds and ends were left by the previous inhabitants.  One divine scroll was found. A stone shaping spell gave Darian an idea. The passage or the one pit. The party voted for the passage. Darian used the scroll. He shaped a doorway.


----------



## diaglo

* a doodle doo*

Erin and Fiddle took point. Vlad, Darian, Alia, and Spugnoir followed. The passage beyond had not been disturbed for many years. The dust was heavy. They came to a door. Erin opened and entered quietly. Fiddle again checked for tracks. He tasted fresher air. A door stood ajar to the left and the passage stretched beyond sight ahead. The dust had strange scratch marks. The party opened the door further and entered the corridor. They moved along quietly. The passage opened into a chamber.

CLuuuucckkkk, ccllluuuckkk, cluuckk

Two large, compared to Fiddle, reptilian turkey looking creatures stood inside the room. They guarded their nests.

"What are those?" Darian asked. He cast a quick spell. Lathander's Mace swept forward.

"Cockatrice," Erin replied. "Run for your lives."

Erin moved back to the door. Alia quickly followed. Spugnoir stepped forward.

Goodness Graces, Great Balls of Fire.

BBBBoooooMMMMm

The birds moved forward. Both were badly cooked. One pecked at Vlad and the other at Fiddle. Neither connected. Vlad stabbed his opponent. And Fiddle finished his bird. Lathander's Mace splatted Vlad's bird.

The party came back.

"Phew," Alia said. "That was close."

Spugnoir plucked feathers from the dead birds. He tickled Erin's chin with one.

"They are harmless once they are dead," the mage said.

"But what...

cccclllLLLuuuCKkkkkk

At the back of the chamber another uninjured bird nested. Darian, the Mace, Erin, Alia, and Spugnoir laid into the bird. It pecked at Darian. Vlad and Fiddle took a stab at it. Darian finished it. Fiddle rolled around in the nests. Digging and scraping for any valuables. More cloak scraps.

A door to the East led to an old bedchamber. A skeleton in dark robes on the floor. A quick search uncovered a silver spidery brooch. Fiddle estimated its value at 50 talents or more, but Darian tucked it into the items to be destroyed pouch. Fiddle found a slim bone too. He waved it around. It looked like a wand, maybe. He aimed it at the ceiling....


----------



## diaglo

*The Zappp of Doom*

ZappppPp

Fiddle felt a shock. And a swirling mist left his hand. It struck the ceiling. Everyone in the place lost their cheery disposition. Actually everyone felt utterly dismayed, almost Doomed.

"I think I found a wand," Fiddle said.

"Give me that," Darian took the wand. He said last rites over the skeleton.

Edit: The party followed the scent of fresh air. They discovered another way outside of the Ruins. Fiddle gathered what he could from the surrounding brush that was edible. Enough for the party for another day.

And then the party left to recuperate. It had been a long day. And the feeling of Doom didn't subside for some time.

The next morning, the party prepared. This would be their final attempt at discovery. The Pit. Everyone was healthy and the dread of Doom was gone. Erin covered himself in magic.

They went to the Pit. The lift still lead down. Fiddle spiked himself off and tied his rope about his body. Unfortunately the lift platform wouldn't hold everyone. Spugnoir volunteered to stay behind.

40 lbs of hin and gear, 110 lbs of elf maiden and gear, 140 lbs of monk, 200+ lbs of priest and gear, 160lbs of warrior and gear. yeah, there was a lot of weight on that lift. They lowered themselves slowly. The cold and the dread increased with each foot lower. The block below them was black with green veins. It was nearly 100ft tall and 20ft around at the top.

Alia read Geynor's journal aloud as they descended. They had reached the limit of the rope and the lift. They almost rested on the black block. Another lift a few feet away continued the journey down. A stream of water fell on one side of the chamber and collected in a pool below. Fiddle untied himself and moved to the next lift with the party. They were going all the way down. Come hell or high water. Fiddle prayed for neither. He pulled his new dark cloak tighter about himself. Everyone was visibly shivering from the cold.

Another 50 ft and they reached bottom. The sound of the waterfall was very loud at the bottom of this now almost empty well. The black block tapered to a point.  A very small pillar held it in place. Impossible. A hand with fangs was etched in the rock. The sound of the water was very loud.

Fiddle hopped off the lift and went over to the hand. The sound of water was very loud.

"I shouldn't have had that last drink this morning," Fiddle thought. He started to relieve himself.

A dark voice called to him, but the words were unintelligible and soon forgotten. Fiddle shook his head and then froze.

"Begone foul demons," a human cried aloud. His magic held Fiddle in place. His muscles frozen in their last action.


----------



## diaglo

*Erlend meets his maker*

This could only be the crazed Erlend, Geynor had mentioned in his journal. Alia sang a familiar tune. Erlend slipped in the puddle of grease, dropping his shield and sword. A priest with a  Short sword    Darian followed with his own display of magic. Erlend's flailing armor made no sound. Erin summoned his force shield. He moved to defend Fiddle. Vlad fired an arrow over Erlend's  head. Erlend touched the wall. It changed form. A large black yawning portal appeared. Out dropped a horrible creature seemingly drawn from a lunatic's nightmares, an amorphous ooze of flesh the size of a human with countless eyes and toothy mouths constantly forming and disappearing all over often retreating into its body even as they became apparent. It made no sound, but nothing near Erlend did. Erlend slipped sideways.

Alia turned her attention to the monster. She started to sing as she drew forth her finest arrows, the ones coated in magic. She fired into the mass. Darian tried a different tactic. He cast another spell on Erlend's armor. This one had the priest squirming and smoking. Darian moved forward. Fiddle snapped out of his frozen state. He charged the priest from a side opposite Darian. He buried his own sword into a vulnerable spot. Erin attacked the monstrous mass of flesh. Vlad slung his bow and drew his rapier as he advanced. The mass sent a series of mouths at Erin. One latched onto the monk, thru his force and thru his magical coating of armor. The monk lost some of his endurance as the creature stayed fast. Erlend moved clear of the hin and Darian. He tried to grab for his holy symbol. All was still silent around him. But not so around Erin, Vlad, and the creature. The creature was gibbering from its many mouths. Vlad's face went blank.

Alia was in the field of silence now. She  fired another magic arrow at the fleshy creature.  Darian maneuvered near Erlend. He struck out with his mace. Erlend's armor still smoked. Fiddle ran passed and stabbed again from behind. Another serious fatal blow. Erlend fell. Erin broke free of the mass. Vlad still stood lost in thought. The creature attacked both he and Erin. It latched onto Vlad and bit Erin again. Vlad struck back defensively.

Alia fired another arrow. Darian dragged Erlend by the boots towards the battle. Fiddle joined the fight. Erin swung at the mass. The creature was surrounded. It lashed out at Erin, Fiddle, and Vlad. Vlad stabbed again. He couldn't break free. His lifeblood was being drained by the mouth.

Alia pulled Vlad free of the creature. Darian moved forward with his mace. He didn't land solidly. Fiddle use his twin weapon fighting technique. He landed with his dagger. Erin swung again. The creature was still surrounded. It lashed out at Erin, Fiddle, Vlad and Darian. It was a very strange fight. The sound and shouts of the combatants were drowned out by magic. But it was a battle of pure muscle. Erin and Vlad were bitten again. Vlad stabbed with his rapier.

Alia fired another magical arrow into the mass. Darian swung with his mace. Fiddle struck again with his dagger and just missed with his sword again. Erin landed a blow. The creature continued to fight on. It was weakening finally. It bit Darian and Vlad. Vlad poked into one of the eyes.

Alia fired another magical arrow. This one dug in deep. Darian pounded down with his mace. Fiddle slashed with his sword and stabbed with his dagger. The creature stopped moving.


----------



## diaglo

*Hail the conquering heroes*

Fiddle pulled up his codpiece. :O The silence was deafening. But the chill was still very strong. The party gathered up Erlend's things. Two potions, smoldering plate armor, a large shield, a short sword, holy symbol, a gem, some coins, a crossbow and bolts, a pearl, a message and letter. The letter and message confirmed the dead priest's identity.

Darian decided to check for magic. Even though he purposely avoided looking at the black block, his senses were almost overwhelmed. The block was magic probably sentient and definitely evil. The potions and sword also shown. The party hurried out of the chamber by way of the lifts. The pool of water at the bottom had grown since they had entered. It wouldn't be long before the whole chamber was filled again. They left Erlend and the fleshy mass. They grabbed everything of value.

Fiddle led the heavily laden party back to Peldan's Helm. Spugnoir wanted to go to Ashabenford, but his horse was gone, so he accompanied them. He hoped to purchase a new one at the Helm. Unfortunately, his pouch had formed a hole in the dungeon crawl. He had lost 100 gold talents.  

Richter met them at the gate. He didn't stop talking the whole night. He had healed and waited for their return. The priestess had been a real burden the whole trip back. He also picked up some interesting gossip.


A patrol of black riders was spotted a day southwest of the Helm by a guard patrol. In the skirmish, Corporal Sabine was wounded, but the black riders escaped.

Reese the Cobbler passed last week, and was buried near the crossroads. His home stands empty.

The baker received a new batch of spices from Norister the Mage in Ashabenford via Spugnoir. Oh, how lovely his bread smells!

A man in red robes passed through yesterday,  looking for information about lost tombs. He had an oddly shaved head.

The Riders sent reinforcements to the garrison of the Helm--a full 20 spears have joined our ranks. The barracks are getting crowded again!

A gnome spent the night at the Inn 3 days past. He was returning to Tilverton from North of Ashabenford. He said there had been a great fire that destroyed an inn north on the Moonsea Ride.

Wilf has hired a new barmaid to help handle the bar. Gora is a slight, dark haired girl, but quick enough of wit to keep the guards' hands off of her.


----------



## diaglo

*Chatter boxes...*

Spugnoir had returned to Peldan's Helm with the party. He wanted to get a horse for Ashabenford, his having disappeared. The party left him in the Common Room of the Inn with Wulf. They headed upstairs to catch up on things with Richter.

"Brandobaris, take me," Fiddle smacked himself. "I am such a greedy hin. I took my eyes off the prize. Alya, that note you recovered. What did it say? The one to Erlend. Something like; the second wagon will return for you before the end of the month. When is that? like tomorrow or something. And why would they need a wagon. If not to haul away something large or heavy or both. What did we see that would fit that description? The obelisk sitting next to the lift. The one we left behind. Obviously they excavated something from that pit. I'm guessing they took most of it in the First wagon. but they needed to return. Perhaps, we should set an ambush for them."

"That sounds like a grand plan, Fiddle!" Darian said smiling down at the halfling from across the room, well out of  reach of light fingers. " I think we should."

Alya added, "Hmm, it's is certainly A plan, but we had a hard enough time with
two lowly acolytes, if they're moving an obelisk weighing several tons there
could be quite a few of them, tens maybe hundreds, with who knows how many of them
casting magic. I agree they need to be stopped, but I'm not sure if we're the
people who can do it, not alone anyway. I fear those who injured Corporal Sabine may be in their employ and there may be more even beyond them. Granted 20 new riders have refilled the barracks, but I wonder if it will be enough. I smell a battle on the coming wind, but I can only hope that I am wrong. Still...hmm...I have an idea that may help. I just hope Eliar and the priests of Tyr are up to the task."

Erin agreed, "You may be right, Alya. However, a well-planned ambush can often make up for lack of numbers. Perhaps if we can raise that porticullis, we could drop that on them, splitting their numbers when they venture into the depths there. Also, barrels of oil in combination with Spugnoir's fireballs could be effective as well. 'tis just a thought."

"And another thing," Fiddle lowered his voice. "Shouldn't someone check the magic on the whole pile of loot again. I mean now that we aren't standing next to that Magic Rock."

Erin mumbled some and tried to sense the magic. He reported several items of magic.

"A magic sword?" Fiddle beamed. "You don't find one of those every day. There must be something powerful and heroic behind its use and reputation. Alia, what stories can you remember about this marvelous weapon? I mean it probably slew countless scores of Dragons."

"Hmmm, let me see. Interesting...nothing really, but I don't doubt your enthusiasm, Fiddle," Alya replied. "Oh By the way, the Quaan, from that man Erlend's Journal. If memory serves it's some sort of an extradimensional plane. From the context of the note I'd say Moander has been banished there and not killed as everyone thought, it's probably a good bet that his cult is trying to free him and bring him back to this world. Hmmm, I
wonder, not that it's related but where did you leave the rest of that dragon
you killed again?"

"The carrion eaters picked it clean," Fiddle answered. Fiddle examined the sword again.

Erlend's short sword is an ugly weapon, with a slight curve to the blade and an oddly hooked tip. There is no crossguard; a poor grip could hurt the wielder as much as his opponent in the hands of someone unfamiliar with the weapon. The steel of the blade is dark tinted, as if the blood of many enemies had permanently stained the metal. A dull green gem is set in the hilt between blade and pommel where the crossguard should be; it too seems to show stains within. The gem seems almost to throb when the sword's hilt is grasped, as if it were hungry for more blood. Despite being removed from the deep crypt, the blade retains the cold of that awful place.

It radiated an aura of evocation, red with contained power. 

"Oooo, this so reminds me of the other daggers." Fiddle pulled out the curved blade from the courtyard and the gold inlaid ceremonial curved dagger from the chest.

Darian's eyes grew wide, as he heard the description of the sword's aura. "'Tis an EVIL blade and pulses with the powers of Death and Darkness. We must DESTROY it!"

"Evil?" Fiddle scratched his head. "It is a weapon. Swords don't kill people, I do...no wait...you might be right."

"Surely," Darian said mildly, "but though I trust truly the friendly avarice of the little one (gazing at Fiddle), for if nothing else it is predictable, I trust not his judgment in such things."  Darian turned and gathered himself, the Elven lass and the Sorcerous
Monk in a sweeping gesture, "Rather, let the three of us, Priest, Sorcerer and Bard look upon this thing and test it to see if yet it may have redeeming quality of goodly nature. Though as one intimate with 'faith', I can say that I have little regarding anything we find
upon the body of a Priest or Paladin of Moander to having redeeming quality of goodly nature." The others continued to look the loot over.

"Whoa magic pearl, and to think I was going to say cash it in for an identification," Alya remarked.  "It is probably either a pearl of wisdom or a pearl of power. In either case I think Darian is the only on in the party who can use either right now since all the other people don't prepare their spells or whatever it is that the pearl of power requires."

Fiddle shrieked, "Say what? The pearl is magical? and my...er..the bad wand is not?"

Richter chose that moment to comment, "I don't care. Nothing I can use. I'm a fighter, not a mage, I just need my enchanting money so I can start unlocking the powers in my whip."

Alya said, "Hmmm, Fiddle, for once, has a point Darian, you have been
awfully anxious to destroy everything you thought was evil until we found a
wand with the symbol of Lolth's children engraved on it, which you did seem
awfully anxious to get your hands on it, and haven't mentioned how evil it is
even once...But we have more pressing issues than a wand which is slowly
corrupting Darian's soul, namely, do we wait here until the end of the month to
see if the rest of Erlend's companions show up."

"Truly, Elder Lass, 'tis as I thought as well." Darian said. "Such an item would grant me greater connection to Lathander and in all, beneits us all with healing and protection favor. And we there any other who could benefit and use this wand of Dooming, I would give it away for their use." Casting about in the things recovered, he held up the three cones and smelled them and then held them forth. "I believe these to be some form of enchanted incense? Typically such things aid those who are of Divine nature in their requests for favor from their deity. Of the rest I know little, though it is likely I will
recognize a Healing potion. I am not inclined to take upon me the Plate Armor for though trained in it's use, it has been tainted to my sensibilities and wouldst weight me down too far. Perhaps Master Eliar will perorm for us the divination magics and allow us greater facility with what we have? We may have something amongst this all that he would want in trade or gold enough from it's sale?" Darian checked on the location of the aforementioned wand. "You speak truly Alya," Darian eyes grew wide as he looked for the wand. Finding it he pulls it forth and looks it over, "Such evil is surely seductive, as I have heard is the Spider-Queen. I shall not be tempted by such evil any longer!" And so
saying he snapped the bone wand in twain. There was a brief flash of deep purple light and it was gone. "It shall tempt me no longer."

"I cannot say if its evil or not," Richter continued. "Since Darian is my brother in arms and Lathander and Kelemvor are close associates, what he says holds water. As for destroying things, yes, I spoke with Eliar and the guards. They watch the evil priestess, but I am keeping the religious items until we get to Cormyr. Both Darian and I are from Suzail and quite well known around there. I say we head to the barrows to stop Himool. Something is down there and I need to be getting to Cormyr anyway. I know a temple in Suzail that would induct me as a fellow priest. But my main reason for the barrows is we need weapons that are enchanted and of the light, not darkness. However, my whip needs to be unlocked first so my family's bloodline can take effect."

"Stop Himool?," Alya was outraged. "Stop Himool from what? Making an ass of himself? Taking credit for other party member's work? We're dealing with a cult of a dead god, who we've probably just pissed off, and you're going to let a little thing like
pride force us into a month long detour to go digging in the dirt to satisfy
your walking corpse fetish?! Have you lost all perspective?! We've got much
bigger problems on our plate now! If you want to head to first Cormyr that's
fine, but DON'T come crying to me when your arms are rotting off, we can't
afford to have you healed, and no temple owes us a favor because we decided to
go crypt crawling and playing with mummies instead of helping to strengthen the
presence of one of the gods whose priets would be able to fight this evil! 
After all I'm sure them recently obtaining a seven ton obelisk and finding a
note that says 'The Slime temple will soon make its move against the forces of
Destruction' wasn't indicative of any great coming conflict for which healing
and disease removal will be needed"!

"I also would enjoy returning to Cormyr to speak with the Priests of my Temple," Darian tried to break the tension. "We can stay with my Family for free for they are kind and willing to take in weary travelers. They will feed us well and the beds will be soft," Darian then turned to Fiddle, "And NOTHING of theirs had best become missing while you are present, little one." The look he gave the Halfling was dire indeed. But I wish also to consider that not only would the Barrows be of great service to Lathander, so also
would seeking the mystical sword for our Church. 'Haps we travel to Cormyr I can ask what reward may be entitled to those who sought for it on behalf of my
Church? Truly, Lady Elf, you speak clearly, if a bit less elegantly than of the norm and on this I am in agreement. But I am torn, for the Church of Lathander could be great allies against Moander and his minions. Also they could rid us of these horrid artifacts of
Darkness. And there is that nest of Undead in that area but it is a month away, which could be an epic unto itself eh, Lady Bard?" He paused thoughtfully. "We have much to discuss and much to do- we must decide as an entity what our path is and support one another in that decision or we do nothing. I believe that since Richter has not been involed in the tests we have recently, he cares for nothing than his own ambitions.
It is neither evil nor selfish but rather lack of commitment. Perhaps it is best, Lady Bard, that you educate our friend Richter to our experiences and the evil that is Moander? Then he may make an informed decision and we may select a Path that we may all
support."

"Ahh, If the temple of Lathander needs help," Alya graciously took the out.  "I'd sooner assist them over the priests of Correllian any day. Despite my blood, no warm spot resides in my heart for the church of Lotharian, though the prospect of them owing us a favor amuses me greatly. If we can assist another church then I've no objection to
heading to the barrows. As for that sword, Darian, this is the fifth item we've come across that you've wanted to burn on site. And since Richter hasn't taken them to the temple of Tyr to be destroyed yet. Can we at least verify that it's evil this time before we destroy what could be a perfectly neutral magical sword merely wielded by an evil man? On the one hand if we leave and let the new troops in the barracks take care of the evil cultists, they may be ill prepared to take on spell casters and could endanger the Helm. On the other hand those letters were not dated they may have already moved it with Erlend and the rest being trapped by the dragon before they could leave, and with all the magic we've run across from that cult so far they could very well know Erlend's dead already and have taken steps avoid our notice or even avoid coming back at all. If that's that case we risk, wasting several days for nothing when we could be spending it travelling or getting something accomplished."

"Well Darian and I both need to head back to Cormyr," Richter followed. "So we will need to register our party as well. Names anyone? I also need to pick up my quest for the church."

"I'm a Travelling hin," Fiddle added. "I've made a lot stops all over the world. For the right price, I say we tell Eliar and the citizens of Peldan's Helm about the trouble brewing at the Ruins. like say they I.D. our potions. it's their problem...well as long as no one knows we were involved. I'm up for traveling again. To the barrows or to Cormyr."


----------



## diaglo

*Stormslayers enlist a new recruit*

Richter and Darian spent time with Eliar. The others spoke to Captain Jadaele and Corporal Olaf about the troubles ahead. The party tried their best to convince Peldan's Helm about the danger the Ruined Moathouse presented.  They also discovered the priestess left in the care of the Helm had died. Speculation of her death included suicide or murder. But suicide was the more probable route considering her mental state. Her body was removed and destroyed by the guard.

Fiddle also visited the banker, Mouse. He exchanged some coins for those of Cormyr and trade bars for beyond. Dales talents wouldn't buy him anything in Suzail.

Erin sold the mundane weapons and armor, not only were they heavy and a burden, but no one had a use for them. For the right price, Eliar agreed to identify the party's items, potions, and magic. A bead of force, a pearl of power, a Shortsword of evocation magic, a potion of invisibility, several potions of healing wounds, a potion to alter form, a potion to breath underwater, a potion to fly, a potion to hover, and a potion to hide in shadows. The party handed out the items. They also gave Spugnoir and Richter an equal share of the coin.

After much contemplation and prayer, Richter had a revelation. Not one he enjoyed. He handed Alya a considerable amount of wealth to compensate giving away Veridian's rapier. Alya seemed pleased.

The day before they were to journey again the party met a new fellow at the Inn. Ozlo Sullygrub , a gnome, and by the looks of him a practitioner of magic. He had heard some talk of dragonslaying., so he begged for more of the tale. Alya obliged. As did Fiddle, Erin, Vlad, Richter, and Darian. Oz soon found he couldn't refuse joining the group.

The newly named Stormslayers. A name they would need when in Cormyr. They also met with the Castellan. They once again told of the danger ahead for the Helm. They begged off helping, though, for they had another duty. They were going to Cormyr to destroy the items Darian had collected. Darian suggested Hawk. And Captain Jadaele also thought Marcus of Tyr might be interested heading a patrol to clear the Ruins. 

The party bought mounts and rations for their trip. They checked their route. And off they went...


----------



## diaglo

*Critters I attack of the furballs...*

The first day out of the Helm along the Moonsea Ride to Tilverton was peaceful. Fiddle gathered nuts and berries along the sides of the road. He was also lucky with his sling, a full brace of conies. They ate well. And reestablished watches. Richter and Erin, Alya and Sully, Fiddle and Vlad, and Darian with the Sun. The next two days were also very uneventful. By the evening of the third day Sully had started to understand the play on words the others used in conversation. Vlad, Fiddle, and Erin in particular. Although, Alya was more subtle her words were no less whimsical. Her lute and Sully's flute seemed to find a harmony on watch. While they  quietly played another noise suddenly grew louder. A great many chittering insects or animals or....

Fiddle woke with the sounds of battle. Alya had already cast her grease upon the ground, 8 small smelly creatures flailed or lay sprawled in the mess. Sully stood near to Fiddle. To his left 2 creatures where stunned. An odd assortment of color splashed across their fur. Richter, Darian, and Vlad were armed and engaged with more of the creatures. One hung limp on Richter's armor spikes. Erin stirred from his slumber with Fiddle. Both were ready for action.

Fiddle sprinted to the stunned foes. His new sword cut thru the air. It struck a very vital place in the fur ball. Fiddle could only guess it was the creature's heart. Blood sprayed. Alya stood to the side firing her bow. One of the creatures fell. Erin moved on the only creature standing in the grease spot. The other creatures, though alive, had lost their footing. Erin punched the creature. Not the most solid of shots, but not much was needed to finish this one. Erin figured he would catch it on his return blow. The creature had other ideas. It dug its claws into Erin's neck. Luckily the Gods saw favor to grant the monk some health. Sully killed two of the greasepots with blasts of magic. Vlad, Richter, Darian, and Lathander's mace also soon decimated the numbers. Richter had a few more small scratches and dead bodies falling off his armor spikes.

Fiddle pulled his dagger one way and his magic sword the other. The last stunned fellow fell. He wiped his blades.  Sully fired again into the grease. Two more stopped struggling. Alya, Erin, Vlad, Richter, Darian and Lathander's mace finished the creatures. Twenty in all.

"They are some form of Underdark scavengers," Alya said. "Gibberlings."

"Is anyone hurt?" Fiddle asked as he pulled out his bandages.

"Let me," Darian replied. Erin had taken a serious blow. And Richter and Vlad were scratched but would heal soon enough.

Fiddle followed the creatures path. It was very obvious. He quickly marked a tree with his dagger.

"I shall call you Lightning Strike," Fiddle said to his new sword.


----------



## diaglo

*Toll road*

"Let us break camp," Darian suggested. "This place is too close to a new passageway to the Underdark."

Darian and Richter said a quick prayer over the slain. In the dark the party stumbled a mile or two closer to their goal of reaching Cormyr. Vlad and Fiddle took their turn on watch followed by Darian.

The next two days were uneventful. On the middle of the third day a band of  humanoids blocked their path. Erin and Vlad continued ahead. The rest of the party began to wonder about an ambush. Fiddle dismounted and hid behind the mount he and Sully shared. After a few moments and muffled discussion, Erin returned. Vlad had a sour look on his face but he remained with the patrol.

"These fellows guard the road and keep it safe for our passage," Erin said. "They, however, require a toll to keep up their vigil. I have agreed to collect it."

"How much?" Darian asked.

"Ten gold talents per individual and 5 silver markers per mount," Erin answered.

"That's not much," Darian misheard and therefore misunderstood. "Here, here is my 10 silver."

His jaw dropped when Erin repeated the price. He did however pay it. As did everyone else. Though, Vlad having just come from fighting in Damaara threw his coins at the orcs' feet. Yes, the tollkeepers were orcs of the Eye Clan. There were only 5 of them visible on the road. Though, the nearby cover on both sides of the road could hide many more.

Out of earshot and passed the toll, Vlad let out his frustration at the sky. "Orcs, they were orcs. We should've killed every last one of them. I just spent 5 years hunting those apricots (Turkish for something unpleasant)."

The party travelled and camped. True to their word obviously, the party experienced no trouble that night. The next day would see the party at the Gap to the Thunder Peaks and the border of Cormyr.


----------



## diaglo

*The Watchtower*

They rode along in almost silence. Vlad thought of a thousand things he was going to do, if he found out those orcs had lied. Just before nightfall they found the Watchtower. Some men were standing at the doorway with what looked like pamphlets in their hands   . An elderly human was higher up carefully scanning the party. Darian and Richter had been thorough in their discussion of the laws of Cormyr. This would be a War Wizard.

"Hello in the Tower," Darian hailed.

"Hello on the King's Road," a guard replied. "Approach and be recognized."

"What ho?" the guard restated as the party rode up. "What business do you have in Cormyr?"

“We are returning home,” Darian replied.

“To Suzail,” Richter added.

“Come inside,” the guard offered, “and rest yourselves. And these others?”

The party dismounted and followed the guard inside.

“These are our boon companions,” Darian resumed.

"Ah, an adventuring company," the guard surmised. "Please don't take offense, but you will need to register with the others."

"Very well," Richter agreed. "I am Richter Belmont of the Suzail Belmonts. This is Brother Darian of Lathander also of Suzail. And we are the Stormslayers."

“Do you need to hear the Laws of Cormyr?” the guard asked.

Erin bowed and replied, “Aye, what harm would it do to hear again and to understand those customs and traditions in the lands we are about to traverse.”

The guard rattled off the laws. He then peace bonded the weapons and spellcasters. He also told them the only way to gain a charter was in Arabel or Suzail. Tilverton no longer obliged Adventurers for the mayor had trouble with the last band that was sponsored. Turns out the guard had to escort the ruffians out of the city. As the night wore on the party learned much of the latest news in Cormyr and of bands of highwaymen and orcs.

“I knew it,” Vlad blurted out. “I’m going to have so much fun getting my money back.”


----------



## diaglo

*Tilverton*

Jehovah the guard witnessed very little trouble from the party, so he told them all he knew. The Watchtower was but a day's travel from Tilverton. Tilverton was not as grand as Arabel or Suzail, but it would have many things the party might need. New armor, arms, supplies, and possibly magic; scrolls and potions most likely. The party also might find more information about their quest or learn of new ones. Darian was eager to destroy the Moanderite items. And Richter wanted to find a Kelemvor temple. They felt safe and slept well.

The next day found seven well traveled members of an adventuring party at the Gates to Tilverton. A brief word with the gate guard and they made for the Rose Temple, home to Lathander's clergy. The Temple was quite ornate, although small in comparison to the one in Suzail according to Darian.

"Let me do all the talking," Darian said.

"Hello Brother Darian," a priest greeted them. "It is good to see you again. How fares your travels? And who are your friends?"

"Oh Brother Valgrim," Darian replied. "It is good to see as well. Lathander's blessing on you."

The two priest chatted away. Soon Darian had acquired quarters for the party and their mounts. He also handed over the Moandite items. Valgrim would see to their destruction. Richter excused himself. He promised to return when he could. Sully and Alya also departed for parts unknown. Vlad, Fiddle, and Erin remained. After sharpening his sword and dagger for the fifth time, Fiddle too left the Temple.

Fiddle visited a fine shop with armor and weapons. He replaced some arrows he'd used and traded his buckler in for one of better quality. When he returned to the Temple, he encountered Sully and Alya in the street. They strolled back together. The light of the day was fast disappearing. They made their way inside to find the others. Valgrim agreed to sell the party some healing potions and holy water.

"No sign of Richter," Erin stated. "Lets give him until the morrow before we go searching for him."

Valgrim and Darian shifted conversation. Valgrim mentioned the Sword of Truth, a holy weapon of Lathander. Darian seemed reluctant to pursue the quest. The word reward was uttered.

"Reward?" Fiddle piped in.

Darian rolled his eyes. He begged for a word in private with Valgrim. They departed.

"What do you think?" Alya asked. "Should we take up this quest?"

The others tossed the idea around. No one really seemed that interested. When Darian returned Alya broached the subject.

"Are you willing to swear an oath?" Valgrim asked.

"Nah," Alya replied. No one else spoke.

The night was pleasant but very dull.


----------



## diaglo

*the Blues brothers*

Richter returned just after the morning meal. He seemed changed. His mount was a little tired.

"We needn't go to Suzail or Arabel," Richter remarked.

"Aye," Darian added. "Brother Valgrim has taken care of the items. And we don't need an adventuring charter anymore."

"Okay fine," Vlad smiled. "I want my money back from the orcs."

Everyone agreed with Vlad.

"But if we don’t find them. I say we find the Barrows," Richter hinted.

"Agreed," Erin nodded.

Sully, Darian, Vlad, Fiddle, and Alya also nodded their consent. They gathered their things and departed for the Watchtower again. The ride was easy. Everyone was rather giddy. They had money in their pouches, fresh supplies in their packs, new magic, and other new things. And Darian was on a mission for his God.

Fiddle’s mind wandered as he rode. He didn’t voice his concerns aloud, for he knew no one would listen without proof.  “Stupid priests. They believe everything on faith. I wonder who this Valgrim fellow is. I mean can he really be trusted so quickly. What if he were...a monster or imposter...covered in magic to disguise his appearance. We just handed him the items to an evil cult. Probably a very resourceful cult. One that even the locals in Peldan’s Helm had little knowledge of. Ah well, not my problem....”


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Hmmm, Valgrim as a spy for the evil cult.  Hadn't considered that before, thanks!

_scribbles_


----------



## Angelsboi

Great David.  Now i have a feeling we'll be seeing Alrission, Valgrim and The Paladin coming for us in the night.

*sighes*

Poor Richter.  He'll have to hurt people now.


----------



## biorph

just don't expect anyone to impale themselves on your spikes again.  Besides if they come for us in the night, YOU won't be seeing them.  Aren't you glad you started paying Alya, now she has a reason to want to keep you alive.


----------



## Froof

Yah, I thought Valgrim seemed a little eager to take those Moandite items as well, but ah well, my character tends to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.


----------



## diaglo

*It's payback time*

This night at the Watchtower was just as lighthearted as the party's last visit. Jehovah witnessed a different side to the party. Alya entertained the troops.  

The next morning found the party on the trail once again in good spirits. No sign of the bandits. So they settled on a trip to the Barrows. The normal watch routine was established that night. They hadn't gone far on their second day out of the tower, when they saw several figures on the road, 5 to be exact and very familiar. The party dismounted a little a way from the orcs. Three of the orcs stood in the road, 2 others had bows ready off to the side. Sully and Erin covered themselves in magic.

"So you have returned," the head Orc spoke. She, but who could tell, was unarmored. "You must pay the same toll as before."

"I don't think so," Vlad replied.

Sully quickly backed up the warrior with a flash of color. The lady orc lost her vision. And one of the guards fell over. Alya sang out. She touched Fiddle and he vanished from sight. Darian lowered his shield and charged one of the guards. The orc flew back 5 feet. Erin covered the ground to the bowmen. Richter charged the female. His spikes bit into flesh, but he couldn't wrap his arms around her in time. The female orc stumbled blindly away.  Darian's angry orc attacked. The two near Erin threw down their bows and pulled out axes. One struck Erin. Vlad fired an arrow into the leader's back. He put away his bow and drew his rapier as he headed in Erin's direction. Fiddle ran as fast as he legs could carry him after the female. Richter heard but didn't see him run by.

Sully fired two streaks of magic into the leader. She collapsed. Alya fired an arrow into one of the orcs fighting Erin. Darian stepped out of melee and summoned Lathander's mace. It struck his opponent down. Erin punched out at his attackers.  Richter brought his sword across the side of the stunned guard. The orc died. Erin was attacked again. Vlad closed and stabbed the wounded one killing it. That left only one on Erin. Lightning Strike burst thru the gut of the orc. 

"Hiya," Fiddle appeared from behind the collapsed corpse.

The sound of hooves drowned out any response.


----------



## diaglo

*Charge of the Light Brigade*

Sully mumbled a few words. His form changed. He sprouted angelic wings and was soon aloft. Alya hesitated. She looked for the right moment to sing out. Darian called on Lathander's aid. His armor improved with the magic. Erin moved to Darian's aid. Richter prepared for the worst. From out of the trees a group of mounted orcs charged. Alya sang her song of grease. The riders didn't slow. Vlad fired his bow. He hit the lead orc, but did little to stop the horde or even that one rider. Fiddle waited for the riders to close. He then released his dagger. A glancing blow, not enough to unseat the fellow. Rats.

Sully gained more height. He unrolled a new scroll. A bead of fire launched into the midst of the riders. BOooM. Half the riders and their horses went up in flames. Darian asked for more of Lathander's favor. It would ward evil out of reach. Lathander's mace struck out at a closing rider. Erin attacked one of the horseless orcs. Smoke got in his eyes. Richter lashed out with his whip. He caught one of the horses, but had to let the beast go before it dragged him. Alya began to sing. She downed a potion. The orcs charged. A spear pierced thru Darian's shield, his armor, his magic armor, his mobility, and stopped short of drawing blood due to the ward. Erin wasn't so lucky. The horseless orc had an axe and a temper. Erin went down. Fiddle also took two stabs from the riders. Luckily he had moved into a position so they couldn't bring their spears to full bear. Two more riders passed near Vlad. Vlad sank another arrow into a rider. This one fell off his high horse. But not fatally. Fiddle leapt up between the two riders he faced. He stabbed out with his dagger at one and Lightning Strike at the other. His sword bit deep. Both were now very wounded.

Sully flew closer to Fiddle and Vlad. He fired off a missle at each of the wounded orcs around Fiddle. Both fell over dead. Darian directed his gaze on the orc most likely to be the leader. He called on Lathander. The orc had a change of heart. Erin's blood stopped flowing. He used his powers of mind to prevent his loss of life. He was still out of the fight and consciousness.  Richter picked a new foe. He moved to Vlad's aid. Alya moved to Erin. She sang a healing melody. Erin woke. Darian and the leader talked, while the last two orcs made preparation to attack Vlad. One dismounted and the other stood. Vlad stabbed the wounded one in the neck with his rapier. Fiddle moved in behind the last one. Lightning Strike caught a vital organ.

Darian continued to talk to the leader. Sully and Fiddle looked at one another. Fiddle nodded. He pulled out his bow and moved into position.

"Peace be with you," Darian said.

The orc mounted. He turned his back on the party. Thump, thump...plop. Fiddle placed 2 arrows into the left and right lung from behind. The orc was dead long before he hit the ground.


----------



## JoeBlank

*Talking with Red*

Talking with Red

As Ozlo Sullygrub has recently joined the group, he has not yet found anyone in whom he can confide. Instead, he talks things over occasionally with Red, his fox familiar. Although Red is not yet able to speak with his master on his own, Sully can speak with burrowing animals for one minute per day. This conversation takes place on the evening of the fight with the orcs.

“So what do you think, Red, an odd bunch aren’t they?”

“You odd too, Odzie.”

“I suppose. Still, I’m used to my own eccentricities. Theirs might take some time. Darian I can respect, although he is a bit too devout for my tastes. Nothing wrong with the sunrise though, maybe I’ll get up one morning and watch it with him. Richter is a bit too gloomy. At least Darian seems happy. Richter could use a little fun. There’s one guy I bet can’t take a practical joke.”

“Try it.”

“Bad idea, Red. I don’t want to get on the wrong side of these ‘Stormslayers’, as we might stay with them a while. Are you comfortable?”

“Red okay. Weasel fun, when monk lets him.”

“Yes, Erin too is a bit solemn. Keep working on the weasel and maybe we can get Erin to lighten up. Some his clever sayings are pretty funny, but I can’t tell whether he realizes that. When you add in ‘Vlad the Quiet’ this group sounds like a bunch of brooders and devouts. Good thing we have Fiddle and Alya.”

“Fiddle takes stuff.”

“Yes, I know. Darian warned me. Seems like he just does it for fun though. At least I don’t know of him taking anything too valuable. It’s just stuff, but let’s keep an eye on him nonetheless .”

“Alya smart.”

“Yes, minstrels tend to know things, they pick up on a lot. I was a bit wary of her at first. Elves seem too close to the Fey for my liking. But then, humans often feel the same way about gnomes. I guess it’s all a matter of perspective. You know, while you played outside in Tilverton, Alya took me to visit a wise woman. Alya’s purpose, mostly, was to ask about buying more things, magic stuff, or about where to go to get more magic put into weapons. That’s where she bought that fireball scroll I used on those orcs.”

“Fire pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it? But that’s not my point. The wise woman was the first person I’ve met since leaving the Vale who has actually heard of the Blood of Time. Like others back in the Vale, she referred to it as the Kiss of Death. She’s going to research it for me. Can you imagine anything more boring than reading through a stack of old books and papers? She’s doing some research for Alya too. If she can point us in the right direction, we might be on track towards finding the elixir Auntie Pello needs to be mortal again. But even if she can find the information, she wants us to pay her with a wyvern’s stinger. All the more reason to stay with this group, I don’t think we could kill a wyvern ourselves. And they did kill that dragon. Which reminds me, silly names are fun, but it makes me snicker every time I say ‘Stormslayers’, you know?”

“Mmmrrrm.”

“Sorry, I forget that little spell doesn’t last long. Well then, we’ll talk more on the morrow. Going into the barrows to fight undead does not sound like fun, and I am not looking forward to it.”


----------



## Angelsboi

I would like to point out that im TECHNICALLY not a cleric yet, therefore i dont have to uphold the laws and traditions of Kelemvore.  Yet.

Im merely a fighter with a penachet for using a whip and using it well.  

I uphold Kelemvores laws because its the RP thing to do (as his family has done it for so many generations).


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Red has a nice outlook on things.  Very concise.  I particularly enjoyed the romp around the mulberry nush with Pop.  

So what does Kelemvor say when he hears "I'm TECHNICALLY not a cleric yet, therefore I dont have to uphold the laws and traditions of Kelemvor" from a worshipper?  Only clerics have to obey the laws of the church?

It'd be a shame if you had to atone BEFORE taking a level of cleric.


----------



## diaglo

*Return to Tilverton, Rinse, Repeat*

"Why did you do that?" Darian demanded.

"Although, he was friendly now," Fiddle answered,  "in a couple hours he would be fast on our trail with some of his real friends. What did he say about those friends. There are two more patrols."

"Well," Vlad spoke. "Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. Either way he is dead. And the two other patrols of similar orcs are just as likely to meet the same fate if they cross our path."

Darian felt obligated to care for the body of the once charmed orc. The other bodies he left to Richter.

"Now what do we do?" Richter asked. "We are two days out of Tilverton if we push it. And still about seven or so from Peldan's Helm. The Barrows lie 2 or 3 days from here as well. I don't feel like leading a horse caravan to the Barrows."

"Tilverton," Erin surmised, "is our only true option then."

"I need to buy another scroll or two," Sully agreed.

The take from the orcs was mostly in equipment. Though, a few coins and one bone wand with a growling face off of the female made everyone a little happier. The party pushed it to return to the Watchtower before it was too dark. The guards greeted them with a round of cheers. Darian told the War wizard of his conversation with the orc leader.

Early the next morning they set off for Tilverton. Richter sold the spare horses, arms and armor. He quickly passed out the coins. Everyone split up to spend. They met back at the Rose Temple. Valgrim was busy with official business. An acolyte showed them to their beds.


----------



## diaglo

*Let them eat Cake*

Eager to find the Barrows the party left the Rose Temple just after Prayers. They made the Watchtower and pushed a little further. When it became too dark to see Fiddle found a place for the party to camp. Everyone was strictly business. They settled into their watches or slept.

The third watch, Fiddle and Vlad, heard the baying of  wolves. They looked to each other. Fiddle moved to wake the party. Vlad drew his bow and waited.

"What is it?" Richter asked.

"Wolves," Fiddle replied. "The ones the Watchtower warned us of a few days ago."

"Give them some meat," Richter said and rolled back over.

"Right," Fiddle thought, "why didn't I think of that?" He walked over to the picket line. And started to undo Richter's horse.

"Fiddle," Richter said from behind the hin. "What are you doing?"

"You told me to give them meat," Fiddle smiled. "I was just listening to your suggestion."

Fiddle tied the horse back up. The wolves didn't approach that night. The next morning Fiddle didn't find any tracks. They pushed the horses a little. On the third day from the border Fiddle found a trail leading South. Many shoed horses and booted feet had passed recently.

"Himool," Richter shouted. "He is ahead of us."

The party followed the tracks. They saw a sign ahead at the top of a hill. A human skull was embedded with an iron spike into a wooden post. The post read *Beware.* The party crested the hill. Below the land was veiled in mist.

"The Barrows," Richter guessed.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Re: Let them eat Cake*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> *"Give them some meat," Richter said and rolled back over.
> 
> "Right," Fiddle thought, "why didn't I think of that?" He walked over to the picket line. And started to undo Richter's horse.
> *




That incident was downright hilarious at the time.  Well played.


----------



## diaglo

*Tomb raiders*

The mist covered everything.  Just at the edge, Fiddle saw the tracks. He also found other more interesting or dangerous tracks. A man-sized bipedal creature with claws.

"Could be an undead creature like those ghouls or ghast we fought in the Ruins," Darian said.

"Perhaps we should tie off before we get lost," Fiddle offered.

"What so we can all be dragged to our deaths like a line of noodles," Richter hinted. "No thanks."

The party entered the mist. Vision was obscured to about 30 ft. Sound was not. A wolf howled in the distance. Fiddle felt a chill. He looked down at Lightning Strike. The red gem still pulsed. The odor of things long dead also wafted in the air. The party neared the first set of mounds.  They chose to examine the one on the left. Fiddle searched for any signs of recent activity. Around the backside, he found a totem half buried. A headstone with ancient elvish script was on the doorway.  Richter made a charcoal rubbing. Darian said he would use his magic to translate all of the rubbings later. Other than hand dug rents in the soil the mound was undisturbed. Fiddle found the claw marks of the bipedal creature moved off to the right of the mound.

The party backtracked to the mound on the right of the trail. This one was open. Someone or something had crawled into or out of a 3 ft opening. Fiddle peered inside. Richter moved a large boulder to block the gaping maw.

"We don't want anything surprising us from behind," he reasoned. "Lets find the skeletal face tomb we heard about in Peldan's Helm."

The party continued down the path. Mounds were on either side. Fiddle checked for tracks. A large number of horses and booted feet had followed this path within the last week. The mist cleared somewhat. Vision reached 60ft or so. A strange scene lay at the party's feet. Smoldering bodies and plants, men dressed in black or leather, everyone of them missing their hands. A battle ground. A very recent battle. No survivors were visible.

Richter and Darian moved to the middle of the field. They were intent on performing the last rites for the deceased.


----------



## diaglo

*Spellstitched horror*

Their work was not meant to go undisturbed. A creature lumbered out of the mist. A powerful odor preceded it. Richter began to retch. Darian recognized it immediately as a ghast. He presented his holy symbol. The creature was unaffected. So Darian grabbed Richter and pulled him back to the other party members. Fiddle ducked behind Erin for cover. Alya moved ahead and began to sing. She covered the area around the ghast in grease. The monster reached down to its waist belt, pulled out something, and muttered a word of power. A globe of darkness covered the area. The party was dumbfounded. Erin charged forward. He engaged the creature. Vlad also moved forward with his bow. Sully muttered a word and took to wing. 

Darian pulled his lantern out and again presented his holy symbol. He had a similar result as the last time. Richter pulled out his whip. He struck the ghast. But the ghast was stronger. Richter let go. The ghast moved out of the grease and muttered another spell. Several streaks of green left the ghast's hand and struck Darian. Fiddle ducked behind Alya. Alya sang a different tune. She touched Fiddle's dagger. It glowed with magical power. Erin moved around the ghast and punched out. A solid blow. Vlad fired an arrow over Richter's shoulder. It just missed the Slayer, but did strike the ghast. Sully fired off 2 more bolts of magic.

Darian called on Lathander's mace. It struck the ghast soundly. Richter stepped up with his sword. He swung wild. The ghast bit into Erin. Fiddle charged forward. He ran thru the darkness, slid across the grease and buried Lightning Strike into the ghast's side. The ghast collapsed. Alya sang a healing melody and touched Erin. Darian healed himself.

Fiddle looked down at his sword. The red light pulsed.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Don't worry, next time I'll remember the special qualities -- that ghast shouldn't have been such a pushover.


----------



## Froof

After fighting the creature Erin finds some leaves or scraps of cloth to wipe off his hands.  "I _hate_  fighting undead that still have pieces on them; they're just disgusting.  Ah well, ancient masters say 'one can only learn by trials' and getting this ghoul funk off of my hands will be a definite trial," Erin mutters.


----------



## biorph

*after the battle*

After the battle Alya says to herself "hmm, although somewhat tired fight that battle has left me feeling...Hmm yes Yes YES...no, no darn, well maybe, almost...horses...yes YES. Yes I definately feel as though I've passed an arbitrary level of experience and am now stronger and more accomplished in my arcane abilities."


----------



## Angelsboi

_*((OOC:  Fiddle and Vlad was not there for this weeks session.  Oz "Sully" was there for a little bit.))*_

_From the diary of Sir Richter Belmont, House Belmont_

The ghast was dead and the wounds from its magic missiles had hurt me.  If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn they were cast to do maximum effect.  But I know not the ways of the arcane.  That is best left to Oz and Alya.

We decided to head back up since night was falling quickly.  Being an expert with the undead, I didnt want to get trapped in the barrows without anything magical to fend ourselves.

In the middle of the night, we were set upon by a pack of wolves and a large wolf with a white pelt.  Erin was a good fellow to chase them off.  The morning came and Brother Dawngaurd had memorized a spell to allow him to read the ancient text on the headstone.  

We had decided to see if their was anything else around of interest and stumbled upon a group of men in black, mercenaries, that wanted us gone.  I recognized them instantly, being from Cormyr.  Zhentim.  We left them to their own devices and headed back to the headstone with the text.  Darian cast the spell and said it was a puzzle and something called the Mask of Races.  Darian had a sudden insight as if he was good with these puzzles all along.  He whispered to me the answer and I bravely faced the statue and revealed it.  A stone door to the barrow behind us was revealed.

We entered and cautiously looked around the tomb.  It had 6 stone reliefs.  Two on the left wall, two on the central wall and two on the right wall.   Each one corrosponded with a nationality in the puzzle and the sixth one was a dwarf.  The puzzle mentioned a dwarf visited all the houses.  We opened the relief of the dwarf and found nothing.  It was destroyed however and that upset me.  Destroying the dead's posessions was not on my list of things i needed to do.  We next opened up the tomb of the Damaran (as that was the answer to get into the tomb).  

Erin, Darian and myself suffered from a blast of acid.  My armor and sharp reflexes made it so i was injured a little.  The monk was deft and managed to not get hurt at all.  Inside was revealed a oddly shaped bag of an odd color.  I tried it on and i felt as if my skin was mallable.  I tried focusing on me 'polymorphing' into an elf and low and behold, my intentions were true and before the group, i stood as an elf.

I gave the mask to Alya since she would be able to make better use out of it.  I only hope she uses it for pureness, not for greed.  We left and continued on and then we found a barrow with a relief of a flaming sword.  Darian claimed that this was where the flaming sword Brother Valgrim told him about was.

We opened the tomb and began to descend inside.  After exploring around and being overly cautious, Erin the monk leaped the gate and unlocked it from the inside.  He proceeded into the tomb further and i tried to follow as quietly as i could.  Too bad i was not a footpad because i attracted some undue attention.

They appeared to be very well preserved zombies at first in splintmail and carrying halberds.  Darian invoked the light and love of Lethander and they were held at bay whilet he rest of us pummeled them.  Dread Warriors.  I had never seen one but the stories and books my family kept of the undead they fought should have keyed me into it.  Maybe i should make a book of my undead battles.

We explored some more and found a couple of doors.  As erin opened the door that was closed, he dodged and i was caught in a spray of fire.  It hurt but it was magical and not alchemist's fire.  Thank Kelemvore or my armor may have been damaged.

Inside was a crypt and a mosiac around the room depicting a young, brave warrior holding a sword of flames and being betrayed by a darker force.  We all stood back as Erin opened the tomb lid and dust came out and he seemed to be visably sick.  He claimed he was fine.  He opened it all the way and out rose a ghastly creature.  Its insane babbling and the cold hand of fear paralyze me.  I watched it attack my friends as i stood helpless.

Darian, wanting this so badly, called upon Lethander for his grace.  The room filled with a bright light, as warm as the sun and i could not turn away.  The foul undead beast screamed horribly and was gone in a stream of small light motes, finding the True Death.  Darian relies too much on his god and not enough on himself.  He and i make a good pairing, he the light of day and i the dark of night.  My feelings for him cannot get in the way of my mission.

Inside the tomb Darian found the sword, although, it was odd.  It appeared to be a bastard sword of copper sheathed in flames that produced no heat.  We decided to head back to Tilverton to return it to Brother Valgrum.  We left the tomb and outside we were greeted by the Zhentim.  This time i noticed a man with the cloth of Bane.  My God's enemy.

The party tried witty reparte as the Zhentim wanted the sword.  We wouldnt let them have it.  The battle was quick and they saw the error of their ways.  We stripped them and took them back to camp as the group interrogated them.  Alya screwed one for information.  She hasn't betrayed me yet but sleeping with someone associated with Bane, almost as evil as worshiping the Dark Lord himself.  I must keep a watchful eye on her.  Sleeping with associated of Bane and has a mask to look like someone else, this could spell trouble.

Erin tried to talk to another but my dagger happy self caused him to be not forthcoming.  I should apologize to Erin for my behavior.  Its just that Bane gets me so angry.  His destructive force along with Valshroun and Jergal ... that is another story.

Alya got them to spill their information and Erin gave them our word they wouldnt die by our hand.  The man came back looking goofy and she looked flushed.  I cant bear to think of what she did to that lowlife.  I shudder to think and wish i could take his life, but I have to honor the monks words but those damned sayings ... Oh well, i guess its no different then Darians and my talking of our Beloved.  We set out immediatly to the Zhentim camp with Fiddle watching the prisoners.  Erin explained that they need to stay alive.  That they were worth more alive than dead.  The prospect of money caused the little fella's eyes light up.

We found one Zhentim and let him leave.  The monk is very good at negotiations but im not sure what his motives are though now.  Keeping two Zhents alive and letting one go.  Who exactly are Erins ancient masters?  Well, he hasnt betrayed me yet so I guess i still trust him ... 

We took the horses and loaded their belongings up and made a descion to go to the Peldan's Helm in the morning to deliver the Zhents.  I believe their leader Sabine was attacked by the Zhents.  They would have use for them, not us.  Alya started going through a book and her eyes widened as did Oz's.  It was a spellbook from one of the Zhents.  They planned on letting Elliar in Peldan's Helm look through it and the Sage Woman in Tilverton look through it as well.  

My watch is nearly complete and it is time for Darian's watch.  The night was uneventful thanks to Kelemvore but the Dawn rises and Darian needs to bring the sun in.  Ive stayed up to watch him although he has never seen me.  Before traveling with him, i wonder how the sun rose every morning without Darian greeting it and brining it in.  I suppose he was doing this in Suzail where i was.  Hard to believe he and i come from the same place, both from noble families.

For now, 

Richter Belmont


----------



## biorph

> We got them to spill their information and Erin gave them our word they wouldnt die by our hand.




How very like Richter taking credit for information Alya obtained on her own.


----------



## Angelsboi

((OOC Richter isnt taking claim for your information.  Its GROUP information and thats what he meant by 'we'.  He is also going to say that 'we' fought the wyvern.  Are you going to slam him and say that he took credit for that too?  And besides, you all dont know whats being said in his diary.  And have you considered that maybe he doesnt want to write about your sexploits in his diary?  The very thought of you having relations with someone associated with Bane puts a sour taste in his mouth, much like the Zhent left a salty taste in your mouth  ))


----------



## biorph

Of course we don't know what is beaing said in his diary, but I'm commenting on the post, said comment being that Richter isn't giving Alya credit for information finding, which he isn't.  So if you want to nitpick A) Unless Richter was spying in the brush he wouldn't know WHAT Alya did to get the information, just that the guard came back gagged, and slightly goofy looking B) Alya was the only one to get information out of either of the fighters WE doesn't really come into it, unlike fighting the wyvern which was a TEAM effort.


----------



## Angelsboi

_From the diary of Sir Richter Belmont, House Belmont_

We awoke the next morn and rode to Peldan's Helm with the Zhent prisoners in tow.  We dropped them off and each of us went about our own ways.  Alya went to Elliar with the spellbook and he wished to copy the spell.  We had exactly two days in Peldan's Helm.  Darian was antsy to get back to Tilverton.  i dont blame him.  The Dales are pretty in the spring but home in Cormyr is home.

**     *     **

We arrived back in Tilverton as Erin went to the Loremaster with Alya.  Erin dropped off mummy wrappings and zombie bits whiel Alya delivered a spellbook.  She brought us back a sizable sum for the book.  Maybe I should rethink my opinion of her.  I mean, one minute Alya is a friend, a comrad.  The next she is screwing the brains out of Zhentim soldiers for information.  

Darian went to the temple of Lethander but Brother valgrum and his superiors were out on a mission with some of the acolytes.  A young handsome paladin was there though.  Darian explained about what he had found and his theories on a paladin weilding the sword.  I had looked at it and it was very unbalanced and a poor weapon due to the blade being made of copper.

The paladin said it was indeed a fake and that Darian should come with him to the back.  They vanished and i hung around.  Darian came back and said the sword was still there.  We now knew that there was a hidden door somewhere in the crypt.  If there was indeed another door, then we needed to be prepared and if we were to keep coming into Cormyr to drop things off, we needed a charter.  We found a merchant train heading to Arabel and Suzail.

We decided to hop the caravan to Suzail.  It was the only place Darian and I knew of that had a fully stocked church of Lethander since Valgrum was gone and a church to Kelemvore.  We needed to get there to unlock the secrets of our family heirlooms.  If we were going to face the undead, it may help to have some magic behind us.  Everyone agreed and we set off to our first destination, Arabel for our charter.

On the road, we passed through the Stormhorn mountains though the rain slowed us.  We came upon peasants on the road heading from Castle Crag to Tilverton.  They claimed they were beseiged by a dragon.  Young Fiddle, always impetous, began inquiring about the dragon.  Daraian and I gave the beggers some alms and eventually we arrived at Castle Crag.  While there we werent much liked, being adventurers and all.  My great uncle Trevor used to be a purple dragon before he passed on in the line of duty.

That night, we were awoken by the noise of something terrible.  The group ran from the barracks to the outside only to discover a beast with wings and a sharp tail.  Erin called it a wyvern.  Growing up in Cormyr and passiing through the Stormhorns, he was right.  I had never seen one personally but i had seen pictures and illusions.

It was a quick battle and we lost two caravan guards, the wagon and a couple of horses.  I was stung but quite lucky that nothing impaired me.  Erin and Alya got the stinger claiming they needed it for the Loremaster.  The wagonmaster decided to bury the ore in the wagon that was lost with the buried dead.  Darian aided me with the Final Rites.

We left the next morning heading to Arabel.  The wagoneer gave us our 25 gold pieces once we arrived in Arabel.  While there, we recieved our adventuring charter under the name The Company of the Stormslayers.  We stayed in town that night and in the morning, we leave for Suzail.  The home of Darian and  myself.  We may be able to stay at my family's home or perhaps Darians.  We also ran into Armillia's, a traveling bard who appears to specialize in daggers.

So now we head off to Suzail.  Darian  needs to see the temple of Lethander.  I need to see the church of Kelemvore and both of us need to unlock the secrets of our family bloodlines.  Although along this journey, i have discovered that Darian is a lot alike me.  We both have tattoos of our family bloodlines.  I just hope i can express myself eventually to Darian but he seems to have his God on his mind  Maybe i shouldnt focus on him and i should devote my undying devotion to Kelemvore, which i have.  Being around Darian has come close to opening my eyes in a new light.  The enlightenment is there but the sign, the Epiphany, is what im awaiting.


----------



## Angelsboi

((OOC there.  Edited to make you happy.  I wasnt taking credit, nor would i want to.  Richter tried to intimidate one and coulda cared less about their plans.  Although lawful, he despises anyone associated with Bane.  Sorry if you thought i was taking credit but the credit is all yours.  

And you werent the only one who got information.  Erin did too.  I left the camp when you took the man off trying to be all seductive.

But i edited it so you can get your credit.  Now lets drop it.))


----------



## diaglo

thanks Angelsboi for taking the baton.

update after this coming Sunday.

Sully is on vacation.


----------



## diaglo

*THe parting*

As the party acquired rooms at the Five Flagons Inn in Suzail, Amaryllis blended into the crowd. Without even a word of goodbye she was gone. Fiddle felt a little sad, but accepted this turn of fate. At least for a brief time he had the company of a fellow hin, and such an outgoing and lively one at that. She had left more than an impression on Fiddle’s thoughts. She had given him a ring, a very familiar ring. And he in turn gave her a token, a set of picks and tools. While out on his own gathering information about the comings and goings of the community, Fiddle examined the ring more closely. A signet ring with seal of House Belmont, Richter’s ring. Oh, Richter wasn’t going to be happy. An image flashed into Fiddle’s brain. He remembered Amaryllis’ first little tune. Erin. Erin was just too good. He must’ve observed the acquisition and told the lady to be rid of the evidence. Well, no matter, Fiddle felt important anyway. She had chosen him to return it.

Fiddle struggled back to the inn after a somewhat fruitful day. He met the others. They discussed what they had heard:

  - Orc and Gnolls are raiding the Northride, collecting tolls and waylaying travelers

  - There are rumors of drow activity near Shadowdale

  - Strange lights and sounds have been heard near Tilver’s Keep

  - Lord Hawklin of Suzail is looking to hire adventurers to chase down orc bandits in the Stonelands.

  - The Church of Lathander is hiring adventurers to quest after some sword.

 - Brigands haunt the roads between Arabel and Tilverton

 - A dragon has been hunting the hills south of Tilverton.

 - A caravan is hiring guards for a trip to Ashabenford by way of Tilver’s Gap.

 - Adventurers are hunting for the lair of the dragon that killed King Azoun; it hasn’t been found yet.

 - Goblins have been raiding from the mountains around High Horn; Purple Dragon patrols haven’t found their lair.

- Alusair intends to grant the title of Baron of the Stonelands to anyone who can build a castle there and hold it for a year against the goblins.

 - The Red Wizards have been given permission to set up a trading enclave in Suzail.

 - Daggerdale has made peace with the Zhentarim; together they will strike out at the Dales, then Cormyr!

- A large merchant caravan just arrived in Suzail from Sembia, bringing all manner of goods.

- Wyverns have been attacking herds north of Immersea.

- The Steel Regent is considering calling in her banners for a strike against the goblins in the Storm Horns.

- The crown has raised taxes yet again to pay for the rebuilding of Arabel.

- The crown is bankrupt after last year’s war!  The treasury is empty and the crown is forced to take loans from Red Wizards.

"What to do and where to go next?" Erin asked. "I think we should try and see about buying some more Fireball scrolls."

"I agree," Alya added. "But where?"

"Perhaps the War Wizards," Darian suggested.

Sully and Richter begged off. Both had business in town. The rest of the party went to see the War Wizards.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Not to preempt, but I think this quote (from Alya's player) sums the session up rather succinctly:



> We almost bought it a couple of times so if you kept your character you may be glad you did so.  Darian has two new shinies, and Vlad has a very tingly new shiny.  We've got a metric ass ton of booty to sell as well as some hydra parts which Erin is saving for the loremaster.  We found a great new way to get to your vacation destination, met "the healing fairy" ;P , found out how useful crack can be when it comes in stick form, had the knowledge that Erin has only 12 charisma drilled into our brain indelibly, and burned through another metric asston of healing points (and hero points).




Of course, you'll have to get the rest of the story to understand all that.


----------



## diaglo

*House Belmont's agent*

The party approached the Wizards’ Tower.

“Do you have writ?” a Purple Dragon asked.

“No, we do not,” Erin replied.

“Why, yes. Yes, we do,” Fiddle blurted. He directed the guard to examine the signet ring. “I am here to speak with a War Wizard.”

“One moment, please.” The guard bowed and left.

Everyone else turned and looked at Fiddle his or her jaw wide open. Erin started to chuckle. The guard returned and escorted them to an inner chamber. Inside a rather youthful War Wizard waited. He looked rather upset.

“Who among you is from House Belmont?” the Wizard inquired.

“I am here on behalf of my House,” Fiddle spoke up. “Young Master Richter Belmont is in need of some protection on his return trip to Tilverton. He begged me to seek several scrolls on his behalf. And as the funds of the Royal Treasury are depleted, he felt the money would best benefit his lord if spent here.”

“All Hail the Royal line,” Alya quickly added.

“And House Dawnguard also humbly requests you hear our plea,” Darian interjected.

The Wizard bought it, almost. He refused to sell the party any scrolls. But he was helpful in pointing them to Lord Hawklin’s estate. He also provided a writ.

“For your troubles,” Fiddle said as he offered the War Wizard a gold trade bar.

“We don’t take tips,” the Wizard scoffed. “Keep it.”

“Thank you,” Fiddle greedily smiled. “Thank you very much.”

The party left. Fiddle pocketed the signet ring.

“That’s my trade bar,” Alya said. “Richter still owes me.”

“No, that’s really Fiddle’s trade bar,” Erin said. “He was continuing the ruse. He was using his own money.” 

“Oh,” Alya realized. “Nevermind. I think no one better tell Richter about what just happened.”


----------



## biorph

*yeah*



> and burned through another metric asston of healing points (and hero points).




I meant to say hero points originally, but I Freudian slipped healing instead.  I was going to correct it, but then realized it was true anyway so I left it.  Although we did learn a valuable lesson, just because your bard can cast healing up there with your cleric doesn't neccessarily help your party if she uses all her spells in the first battle.


----------



## diaglo

*Lord Hawklin's lackeys*

The party showed but did not open their writ to the gate guard at the Hawklin estate. He allowed them into the courtyard.

“Please wait here,” the man-at-arms stated. He returned to his station at the gate.

Fiddle looked around the place. Lord Hawklin was obviously well off. Many fancy pieces of art and well-kept gardens were in sight. A figure in black robes strode into the courtyard.

“I am Lord Hawklin,” he said. “Have you come to answer my advertisement?”

“Perhaps,” Alya coyly replied handing over the writ. “A War Wizard said you may have some scrolls.”

Lord Hawklin crushed a gem in his hands. “We are free to talk now away from scrying eyes and ears,” he said. “If you swear fealty to Cormyr and to keep all you hear secret…”

“I am always at the Crown’s disposal,” Darian interrupted. “However, we are on our way to Tilverton. We know of your advertisement. And we have encountered the brigands. That is why we have come. We wish to purchase some scrolls.”

“I have nothing for you then,” Lord Hawklin continued. “I am a representative of Her Highness, the Steel Regent Alusair.”

“I believe we can help each other,” Erin took over the negotiations. “But I cannot swear fealty to a government. I owe my allegiance to my Order.”

In exchange for Darian’s oath to be responsible for the acts of the Chartered Company and the oath by the others to keep the secrecy of their pact, Lord Hawklin told the party of the mission. Some brigands were raiding the area around the Stonelands. Lord Hawklin’s Captain believed a ruin was their hideout. The Purple Dragons were far too busy to handle all of the trouble in the area. But a small adventuring group should be able to handle the problem. The party was to report their findings to the Captain and Lord Hawklin.

“It will takes us many days to get to the Stonelands,” Erin mentioned. “And we need to inform the rest of our company of our leaving.”

“You will be traveling by magic,” Lord Hawklin smiled. “And we will send word to them.”

“Oh goody,” Fiddle gleefully blurted. “Magic travel.”

“You have never traveled by magic before. Have you Fiddle?” Darian asked. “You will understand.”
Lord Hawklin provided a writ; a scroll with some ancient alphabet they might encounter in the ruins, probably Netherese; several arcane scrolls; a wand of healing; a Darkwood shield; a climbing kit; a potion of healing; some antitoxin; a description of the climate of the Stonelands; vials of acid; and the promise of several thousand crowns worth of gems upon completion. When the party was ready he led them to a small chamber and an archway carved on a blank wall.

“In the name of the Forest Kingdom and Her Grace Alusair, I bid you open,” Lord Hawklin intoned.

The archway misted over and the party looked upon a new scene. A group of Purple Dragons stood at the ready.

“The Sun has not yet set on the Forest Kingdom,” a lady Dragon said.

“Nor shall it so long as we hold it in the sky,” Lord Hawklin replied. “Captain, please see that my companions here get food and rest. They’ve come to clear away the brigands you reported. Their paperwork is in order.”

“Whooppeeee,” Fiddle tumbled thru the portal. He landed a little disoriented on the other side. Captain Dunman looked down at him and rolled her eyes.


----------



## diaglo

*Captain Dunman's new recruits*

As the others followed they too felt the elongation and return to normal that magic portals cause.

“Follow me,” Captain Dunman ordered.

The group passed two very lifelike statues of Purple Dragons. The party entered the Captain’s Command tent.

Before they could ask Captain Dunman added, “This area is very dangerous. Those men met a basilisk. There are other monsters here too. Ogres, orcs, gnolls, goblins, perhaps a Dragon…”

“Dragon did you say,” Fiddle piped in. Darian blocked him.

Captain read Lord Hawklin’s writ. She took roll call. “Sound off when you hear your name. Vlad Greycloak”

“Yeah,” Vlad answered.

“Alya Silverleaf.”

“Here,” Alya waved.

“Darian Dawnguard.”

“By Lathander’s Grace…”

“Just say here,” Captain Dunman cut in. “Fiddle Skipstone.”

“Dragonslayer,” Fiddle beamed. Captain Dunman rolled her eyes.

“Erin Forestborn”

“Present,” Erin replied.

The Captain laid out the mission and handed over a map to the party. The map showed the best route to the Ruins. She ordered them to eat, rest and leave early the next morning. Fiddle reminded her that Lord Hawklin had offered mounts. She again rolled her eyes, but agreed with the provision the party return them.


----------



## diaglo

*Netherese Ruins of a Fortress*

The party retired early. Not even Alya could get the Purple Dragons to open up much. The next morning after a hearty breakfast and morning prays Fiddle led them on the path to the Ruins. He would check the map and the surrounding features every so many minutes. It was a comfortable ride. Everyone watched for trouble. None came. Within a couple miles of the Ruins Vlad and Erin noticed vultures circling. Fiddle checked the map.

"Looks like someone or something has already been to the Ruins," Fiddle remarked. "The vultures haven't landed so I'm guessing the victors are still there. Be wary."

Fiddle found a path that led up the ridge to the Ruins. The party armed themselves, but didn't dismount. They were almost to the entrance when Erin leapt off his horse. He mumbled a word or two of magic and was covered. Darian likewise dismounted, but he used his horse for cover. He also cast a form of protective magic. Three figures rose up from behind what remained of the Ruin's wall. Orcs of the Thunder Peaks. They fired arrows at Fiddle, Alya, and Erin. They must have been startled because they missed their targets completely.

Fiddle fired an arrow over the wall hitting one of the orcs. He urged his horse to the doorway. Two wolves were on guard. Erin moved up the hill and kicked out. His foot struck the orc Fiddle had injured. Darian led his horse up the path to get closer to the orcs. He kept his horse as cover. Alya dismounted behind her mount. She sang out in a very high pitch. One of the orcs struggled but shook off the effects. The wolves grabbed Fiddle's horse. Fiddle tumbled free. The horse went down hard. Two orcs fired another volley. Alya and Darian's horses were struck. The injured one dropped his bow and drew his greataxe. He missed Erin. Vlad urged his horse up the path. He joined Fiddle.

Fiddle sank Lightning Strike into one of the wolves. It yelped. Erin struck again at the orc. Pieces of rock scattered as Erin kicked the wall instead. Darian remounted and urged his horse over the wall. He cleared it with ease. Alya moved closer and sang out again in the same high pitch. This time her target's armor shattered into many worthless scraps. One wolf attacked Fiddle's horse as the other tried for Fiddle. Three more orcs appeared from a ramp going into a mound ahead. They were still too far away. The two archers threw down their bows and drew great axes. The orcs attacked Darian and Erin with gusto. Vlad stabbed down on the injured wolf. It yelped again.

Fiddle defensively poked his sword and dagger at the wolf.  His horse rose and prepared to depart. Erin punched out again. Darian dismounted and clobbered the orc fighting Erin. This put his horse at his back and the other two orcs out of reach. Alya edged a little closer and sang a different tune. The orc moved aside. A blob of grease sailed into the background. Some of it did splatter the greataxe. The injured wolf turned to flee. Both Vlad and Fiddle stabbed it. The other wolf closed on Fiddle along with 2 axe wielding orcs. The third orc took a swing at Vlad. The other orcs took a swing at Darian's horse. Vlad rode his horse into combat opposite Fiddle. He used some fancy maneuvering to stab down on his opponent's back. The orc collapsed. 

Fiddle defensively rolled to his right. He buried Lightning Strike into the wolf's chest. The creature died. Erin circled around the wall to flank Darian's orcs. He leapt the wall, almost. He caught his foot on the uneven battlements. He landed softly and tumbled. Darian waded into combat. He struck the unarmored orc.  Alya finally decided to join the fracas. She fired an arrow into the naked orc. The combination of mace and arrow ended its life. One orc attacked Darian as the others attacked Fiddle. So far Fiddle was untouched. Darian had a deep gash. Vlad dismounted behind Darian's orc. Down went another one.

"I know how to stick you pigfaces," Vlad cried out.

Fiddle tumbled behind one of his orcs. Fighting was so close that the orc felt threaten by Darian also. It turned to watch Darian and missed Fiddle rolling past. Too late. Lightning Strike gutted him. Erin closed on the last orc and leapt into the air. From Fiddle's angle it looked like Erin had leapt over Vlad's horse.  A flying kick landed squarely on the orc's jaw. It was just shaking it off when Darian struck it with his mace. Followed by an arrow in its chest from Alya. Nothing else stirred. Darian broke out the wand of healing from Lord Hawklin. He cast a few spells to heal the wounded. The others started to gather the coins, arms, and armor from the dead. Erin found a trail of blood from the mound entrance to the other side of a wall. Two naked mutilated humans with tattoos lay on the hillside. The tattoos stirred memories in Fiddle.

"They were Dragon Cultists," Fiddle said.

"What is the Cult of the Dragon?" Erin asked.

"Something we don't want to mess with," Darian answered. "They pervert Dragons and make them into Dracoliches."

Darian said a prayer over the slain. Fiddle examined the entrance to the mound. He pulled out a potion and downed it. He vanished almost from plain sight.

"Where'd he go?" Darian asked as he finished preparing the bodies.


----------



## diaglo

*One hin army*

Fiddle quietly crept down the ramp and into a tunnel. His _continual flame_ coin lit the way ahead.  Three more orcs were frozen in place. Not literally, but they tried to be. Two were armed with bows and the third with a greataxe. Maybe there were more, but Fiddle's light didn't reach that far. They seemed confused by the light source.

Fiddle hurled a dagger and drew another one. It struck the lead orc archer in the throat. As the body fell, Fiddle screamed, "OOOORRRRCCCCSSS"

Darian came running into the tunnel. Fiddle bolstered by his first throw moved forward and tossed his other dagger with similar success. Another throat shot. This orc also collapsed.  The last one saw him now. Erin ran past Darian and Fiddle. He must've activated his magical shield. His ioun stone lit the way ahead. Two more axe wielding orcs joined the third. They wailed into Erin. One scored a deep slash. The others bounced off the magic armor. Alya began to sing. She brought up her bow.  The noise of a roaring Dragon could be heard from farther away. Vlad ran ahead of Alya, Darian, and Fiddle.

Darian lowered his shield and charged the orcs. He bounced off the lead orc. Fiddle tumbled into the melee. He stabbed out with Lightning Strike as he passed. Another orc fell gutted. Erin repositioned and punched one of the orcs.  One orc attacked Darian and the other moved to investigate the noise. A strange series of grunts followed. The last orc combatant, who was injured, couldn't penetrate the protection. Alya stopped singing and touched Erin with the wand. Vlad stabbed the orc in the neck between he and Fiddle. It crumpled.

Darian charged the last orc. It was standing by a large archway unarmed. But the archway was a wall. Fiddle swung the flat of Lightning Strike at the orc. He struck the wall. Erin ran around and closed into combat. The orc's armor held. The archway began to turn to mist. The orc remainded focused on the archway. 

"BYArk," it screamed at the mist.

Alya and Vlad closed into the area. Alya healed Erin again. Vlad missed the orc too.

"Don't kill him," Darian said as he swung in an attempt to subdue the orc. He missed.

Fiddle switched hands with Lightning Strike and punched the orc below the belt with his Dragonskin gauntlet. The orc collapsed motionless. But he was still alive. Fiddle moved to recover his daggers. Erin stared at the archway. It was now clear. It led into a larger room open to the sky.


----------



## diaglo

*Grand Central Station- Nexus to Evil*

Debris was scattered everywhere. It looked like a giant bird’s nest gone awry. Fifteen other archways exited the room. Each was numbered from 1 to 16. The party had entered thru portal number 1. They turned back to the portal. Each tried to remember what the orc had said to open it. Only Vlad got it right. A chime sounded. The portal closed behind them. Vlad repeated the phrase. It opened again. Fiddle bound the prisoner and dragged his unconscious body into the Portal Room.

“Shall we try the others?” Erin asked.

The party gathered themselves and prepared for the worst. Fiddle used the prisoner as cover. He pulled out his bow. Vlad mumbled the phrase. Portal 2 misted over and then opened. It revealed a scene straight out of the Great Desert. Many dunes of sand crested in the distance. No one went thru the portal. The party sat studying the area until the chime sounded and the portal closed.

“Again?” Erin asked.

“We might as well check them all,” Darian offered. “We don’t know where the brigands are coming from.”

Portal 3 opened into a lush evergreen forest. Fiddle guessed it was somewhere in the North by the vegetation. Again no one left the room.

Portal 4 opened into a misty forest. Probably somewhere in southern Cormyr or the Dales, maybe even Sembia. But the party had little time to do any sightseeing. An army of orcs was prepared for them. They rushed in mass at the portal on their side.

“Shall we fight them?” Alya asked. “Where is that _Fireball_ scroll?”

Fiddle fired an arrow into the mass. The lead orc dropped. But it mattered not. Fifty or more took his place. Darian moved forward and blocked the archway with his shield. Erin reached into his waist and pulled out the scroll. He looked down at it and began to concentrate.

“Uh, guys,” Erin replied. “I don’t understand it.” He shifted his body to complete the barricade. 

Alya moved to the edge and fired her bow. She wounded another orc. Vlad waited patiently at the side of the archway for the orcs to arrive. He stuck one that came too close. Three others assaulted Erin and Darian.

Fiddle ran forward grabbed the scroll from Erin and read aloud. It took all his effort and will to get the words to sound right. A small bead of fire raced out into the middle of the orc masses.

BBBBoooOOOOMMM

Little was left of the orcs. Those at the edge of the explosion fled. Only one orc near the portal still stood. He turned to run. Alya sunk an arrow in between his shoulder blades. He collapsed.

“Shall we check them?” Vlad asked.

“I’m not going out there,” Fiddle replied.

The party guessed that half of the initial assault troops were dead. Brandobaris only knew how many more there were.


----------



## biorph

> had the knowledge that Erin has only 12 charisma drilled into our brain indelibly,






> Erin reached into his waist and pulled out the scroll. He looked down at it and began to concentrate.
> 
> “Uh, guys,” Erin replied. “I don’t understand it.”




In game terms, we remembered at an awful time that a sorceror with a 12 Charisma can't cast a third level spell like fireball.  Thankfully Fiddle has one rank in use magic device so we weren't completely boned, but almost.


----------



## diaglo

*8 heads are better than 1*

Before the orcs regrouped and attacked again, the chime sounded and the portal closed.

"Are we still up for this?" Erin asked. "Fiddle perhaps you better take the rest of these scrolls. These two contain a lightning spell and this one another fireball."

Portals 1 thru 4 were on one wall. The party turned to the next wall. Vlad repeated the phrase. Portal 5 had a view of the coastline. The smell of saltwater was in the air. Again no one left the room.

Portal 6 showed a black hole. Even with Erin's ioun stone the light couldn't penetrate very far into the darkness. The party guessed it was somewhere underground.

Portal 7 was inside the Ruins of a stone building. Perhaps this was an old temple or fortress or keep. Some humanoid tracks ran from and to the portal.

Portal 8 was another dark chamber. This one had a polished stone floor. The smell of mildew hung in the air.

The party turned to the next wall. By now everyone could say the phrase, even though it was in orc. Portal 9 overlooked another body of water. Darian grew tired of guessing. He stuck his head thru the portal for a better look. The portal opened onto a flagstone ramp. It was, however, many feet above the town below. A very large creature saw the Lathanderite. It had 8 heads and serpentine body. A heavy iron chain was wrapped around its ankle. It was coming out of a side chamber on the cliff face. Darian stepped back inside and ducked to one side. 

"A hydra on a chain," Darian murmured.

Fiddle, Alya, and Erin moved away from the portal. Vlad moved to the opposite side of the portal from Darian. A few brief seconds passed. The creature soon blocked the outside view. Several of its heads looked around and inside the room. Fiddle popped up from behind the orc meat shield. He fired an arrow into one of the hydra's necks.  Erin charged forward to block the portal. The heads reacted. Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp. One of them bit into the fast moving heavily protected monk. Alya began to sing. She closed to Fiddle's side and fired her bow at the magical beast. Darian tried to attack. He moved backwards to escape. Chomp, Chomp, Chomp, etc....The priest went down. Vlad stabbed the beast and then hustled away from the portal. He used the wall as cover. The hydra crawled inside.

Fiddle pulled out a scroll. Again he had to use all his willpower to get it to work. A 5ft wide bolt of lightning streaked from his hands. The hydra avoided most of it. Erin moved about in a defensive ring in front of the hydra. He tried to attract all of its attention. The hydra couldn't land a solid bite. Alya stopped singing. She moved closer to heal Erin. Darian's wounds healed, but he did not regain consciousness. Vlad pulled his bow. He fired away.

Fiddle fired another arrow. Followed by Erin's little defensive dance.  Alya backed away and joined the archers. She landed a shot. One of the heads died. The hydra attacked Erin again. This time the monk could do little to avoid the bites. He joined Darian on the ground. The hydra advanced further into the room. Vlad added another solid shot with his bow. Another head died.

Fiddle pulled another scroll. Whether Alya’s singing or the need inspired him, Fiddle read every word absolutely correct. Many an Arch mage would've been impressed. The bolt of lightning struck the hydra full in the chest. Five more heads died. The beast swayed. Its last head wasn't holding on very well either. It took a bite out of Alya. Erin stopped bleeding. Alya landed the fatal blow.

Alya ran around with the wand of healing. She restored Erin and Darian to almost perfect health. And Darian healed her. With healing the horses and the party the wand was seeing a lot of use.

"Let's leave the rest for tomorrow," Darian said. "I'll pray for a way to understand our phrase and to read some of the glyphs around the portals. Besides I don't have much left in me today."

"Nor I," Erin said. Alya also shook her head in agreement.

Vlad and Fiddle just shrugged.

"Why didn't someone close the portal with the hydra still in it?" Alya asked.

"I wasn't running up with the hydra there," Fiddle replied.

Darian smacked his own forehead. "I wish I'd remembered that."


----------



## diaglo

*Double post ENWorld glitch*

The party hadn't gained much treasure from this side of the Portals. And they hadn't seen much else.

As everyone huddled near Portal 1, Fiddle brushed Darian. He slipped Richter's signet ring into Darian's portion of the haul. 

"Let him take the fall," Fiddle thought.


----------



## diaglo

*Close and lock the door next time*

Vlad muttered the Portal phrase in front of Portal 1. The archway misted over. The party once again saw the tunnel where they had fought the orcs. They dragged the prisoner thru the portal. The dead orc bodies were neatly set aside. Someone had rummaged thru their things. Fiddle snuck to the end of the tunnel. He peered out. Two ogres and a third voice off to the left told the tale. One of the ogres led the horses away. Fiddle hurried back to the others.

"Giants," Fiddle said. "They're taking our horses and supplies."

"Surprise is our only chance," Erin remarked. He went to the tunnel exit. Fiddle followed. The others hot on their heels.

Erin sprinted across the old courtyard. He tagged the Ogre with the horses behind the knee. Fiddle darted across the courtyard too. His little feet couldn't keep up. Alya fired her bow. She struck the closest Ogre. The voice off to the left belonged to a human in heavy armor. He had a battle axe and a shield slung over his back. He rifled through the belongings of the orcs. The shield had the emblem of the Zhents. Darian summoned Lathander's mace to strike one of the Ogres. He also moved closer to the man. Vlad closed with his rapier.

Fiddle fired his bow. His arrow caught the uninjured Ogre in a kidney. It was a nasty injury, but hardly life threatening to an Ogre. Erin punched the Ogre again. It let loose the horses and turned on Erin. Its mighty tree sized club walloped the monk. The second Ogre closed on Fiddle. He too landed soundly. Fiddle was nearly embedded in the ground.

"Surrender now and I might let you live," the man warned. He drew his battle-axe and shield. He mumbled something else. A spark flew up and down the blade of the axe. He struck Vlad. A shock issued from the blade.

Alya began to sing. She pulled out the wand and healed Vlad some. Lathander's mace harried at Fiddle's Ogre. Darian stood opposite Vlad. He swung his mace. Vlad stabbed out with his rapier. The Zhent was too well armored.

Fiddle tumbled away from his Ogre and behind Erin's. The Ogre swatted him anyway. He buried Lightning Strike in the nether regions.  Erin finished it with a solid kicked to the chest. The other Ogre bellowed and slammed Erin. Both Fiddle and Erin bled profusely. Neither could survive another blow. The Zhent switched targets. He swung twice at Darian. The first blow released another shock. The second bounced off Darian's Darkwood shield. Darian and Vlad were also in bad shape.  Alya tried something different. She lashed out with her whip. It caught the Zhent by surprise. He lost his axe. It fell a few feet away. Lathander's mace swept over the Ogre again and vanished. Darian and Vlad battled the Zhent.

Fiddle fought defensively with his sword and dagger routine.  His dagger scored a nasty gash in the Ogre's femoral artery. Erin finished the brute.  The Zhent bent down to retrieve his electrified axe. Vlad pierced a weak spot.

"You'll pay for that," the Zhent growled. He chopped at the weaker opponent, Darian.

Alya lashed out again. This time the Zhent was ready. Alya lost her whip.  Darian stood his ground. He still couldn't connect. Vlad didn't have much luck either.

Fiddle pulled out a potion and downed it. He was in no shape to take on this skilled fighter in his current condition. Some of his wounds closed. Erin needed healing too. But it didn't stop the monk. Erin charged. His blow stunned the Zhent. Alya retrieved her whip.

"I cannot kill him," Darian examined the warrior. "He is defenseless."

"I can," Vlad plunged his rapier into the Zhent's neck.


----------



## diaglo

*I was Robbed. touch attack = AoO*

Vlad took the battle axe. There was no doubt it was magical. The healing fairy, Alya, fixed Fiddle, Darian, Vlad, and Erin. Darian also used the remainder of his spells. Fiddle recollected his things. The party also gathered the armor and weapons for easy transport once the mission was over. Tonight, they would sleep on guard in the tunnel. The horses tied at the entrance. The prisoner remained bound and gagged. Luckily, nothing disturbed their slumber.

In the morning Darian prayed for new spells. Everyone hovered by the archway. Erin coated himself in magic. Vlad intoned the phrase. The portal misted and cleared. Inside the room were more orcs. Fiddle tumbled inside. He killed one as he passed. Alya fired an arrow that dropped another. Darian summoned a circle of protection on himself. He stepped into the room. Erin summoned his force shield. He moved to Darian's side. The remaining orcs charged. Three attacked Fiddle with greataxes. One scored a vicious blow. This orc and another of his fellows foamed at the mouth. Barbarians. The others missed Darian and Erin. One of the orcs hung back. It mumbled a phrase of magic. Alya and Darian felt repressed. Erin, Vlad, and Fiddle shook the effects off. Vlad dodged into the room. He ran behind an orc and cleaved it with his new axe. That left only 4 regular orcs plus the 2 barbarians and the spellcaster.

Fiddle buried Lightning Strike into one of the Barbarians. It collapsed.  Fiddle maneuvered to his left. He kept the wall and his companions at his back to prevent giving the orcs an advantage. Alya dropped another orc with an arrow. Darian walloped an orc with his mace. Erin turned to Fiddle's defense. His arms moved so fast and quickly it was hard to count the number of blows he delivered. None seemed to matter. The other Barbarian still stood. The orc spellcaster summoned more magic. It reached out and touched Fiddle. He faltered but remained active. The Barbarian and the other orc couldn't finish the hin. The other orc wounded Darian. Vlad saw his opportunity. The spellcaster was now between he and Fiddle. The axe charged thru the orc. It fell. Now there was only 2 normal orcs and 1 Barbarian.

Fiddle defensively brought down the normal orc with his dagger. Alya hit the Barbarian with an arrow. Darian finished the other normal orc. That left Erin to end the combat. He punched the Barbarian in the throat. Vlad beheaded the spellcaster just because he had no more targets. Alya healed Fiddle again. Darian dragged the prisoner orc into the Portal Chamber.

"Well shall we continue where we left off?" Erin asked.

"Let me try to understand the writings first," Darian mentioned. He cast a simple spell and touched the wall. "Hmmm, maybe not. It doesn't seem to work. We should try another way. Vlad say the phrase."

Vlad mumbled the phrase.

"Part the Veil of the Universe for me," Darian translated.


----------



## diaglo

*Number 9*

Portal 2 opened. It was again the Desert scene.  They closed it.

"Let's see what the hydra was guarding," Alya said.

"Something that can enslave a hydra is way beyond us," Erin hinted.

"Why would anyone have a hydra chained?" Darian asked.

"To guard their treasure," Fiddle smiled. "A treasure trove, a hoard, a ..."

"Okay," Vlad cut in. "Lets see what's behind  Door number 9...number 9...number 9"

Alya hummed a tune. She touched Fiddle. He vanished.

"Part the Veil of the Universe for me," Darian said. Portal 9 misted over. When it cleared they saw the coast again.

Fiddle crept outside. He quickly looked around. Nothing. He pulled out his climbing kit and set up a belay, just in case.  He followed the now limp chain around the corner on the flagstone path. What he saw was not promising. He was at the side of a large tower. The tower overlooked a walled town. There were 5 banners flapping in the breeze. One of them looked familiar. Not good familiar. Bad familiar. He also saw 4 heavily armed and armored guards. They guarded a door. The door probably led to a stairway up the tower. Not good. Fiddle peeled back to the Portal. He yanked out his belay and entered the Portal Chamber.

"Part the Veil of the Universe for me," Fiddle whispered. The Portal closed.

He told everyone what he had witnessed. He was still invisible.

"Sounds like the Zhents," Darian said.

"Citadel of the Raven," Erin guessed. "If I'm not mistaken. Captain Dunman will want to hear about this."

"Well lets try the other Portals," Alya switched the subject.


----------



## diaglo

*Elvish had left the Ruins*

Portal 10 was a dead end. A dull gray iron wall blocked entry or sight.

"Someone used some magic," Darian laughed. "Probably a powerful wizard."

Portal 11 showed a darken store room. They party guessed underground. Someone had already ransacked the place.

Portal 12 was well lit. It was a large chamber at the end of a long hallway. A figure walked passed. An elf with shocking white hair and dark skin in glittery spiked mail. He was well armed.

"Part the Veil of the Universe for me," Darian rushed. "Drow."

The party turned to the last wall and set of Portals.

Portal 13 opened into an area of stagnant water, a swamp.

Portal 14 was on top of a mountain. Four obelisks stood at the front. A strong gale blew. The land around was Desert.

Portal 15 had a translucent blue mist. When it cleared water gushed inside the Portal Chamber. Fiddle, Vlad, and Darian were bowled over. Erin closed the Portal. The salty water drained away. Strange fish and a few coins remained. The party tried it again. More water rushed in. Finally Fiddle closed the Portal. It was up to everyone else's waist and Fiddle's neck. They recovered some more coins and fish.

Portal 16 opened into a dark room roughly carved from the rock. Several barrels and shelves were visible. Fiddle still invisible crept into the chamber. He looked around. Two passages led away. He followed them. He came to a ladder. Up he went. Into the back of an inn. He crept quietly out the front to read the sign. An old skull was drawn on the placard. He hurried back to the others. By the time he exited the Portal he was visible again.

"The Old Skull Inn in Shadowdale," Darian said. "I wonder if they know."

"We should head back to the camp," Alya said.

"Wait I have an idea," Erin nodded. He placed a feather at the base of Portal 4. Suddenly a large tree sprang into being. "That should slow them down. What did those writings say, Darian?"

"I'm not sure," Darian replied. "Maybe they are magical."

The spell casters soon deciphered the writings using a series of spells. They were able to close and lock the Portals from this side. They still thought the orcs or the Zhents might gain entry.  No one mentioned the Dragon Cultists. But then again the party hadn't encountered them, only their corpses.

The took the new set of armor and arms off the dead orcs. They had a huge pile of swag. The orc prisoner helped tote some of the loot back to the Purple Dragon Camp. The horses carried the rest.


----------



## Elder-Basilisk

Just finished reading the story hour. Excellent. I'm not quite clear on the classes or abilities of the characters (Erin=sor/mnk, Fiddle=Rgr/rog, Darien=Clr, Vlad=Ftr/Rog?, Richter=Ftr (possibly going Ftr/Clr/Pal or Ftr/Pal, Alya= ????) or why some people seem to be present sometimes but there's usually at least one person missing (player doesn't show up maybe) but it's a good read.


----------



## biorph

BINGO!

you got most of them on the head, Erin is a monk of the old order i.e. he can freely multiclass with sorceror. Richter is a straight fighter (in the level sense) going for a level or two of cleric eventually.  Darian is a fighter cleric.  Sully is straight sorceror.  Vlad is fighter rogue.  Fiddle is ranger rogue. Alya is pure 5 levels of bard (being an elf is the reason she can still use a decent selection of martial weapons).  click on the characters link at the end of Diaglo's posts to get a more complete idea of each of the characters (levels, stats, background etc).  

As for why a character is usually missing, you got that right too, not everyone can make it every time, or people have to leave the group, and new people come in etc.

I'm sure Diaglo thanks you for the compliments.  Thanks for reading.


----------



## diaglo

*Elder-Basilisk, thanks for reading...*

Fiddle let out a groan, "Darn Ogres, they must've cut my pouch. I've lost my trade bars."

"Were those yours?" Alya smiled. "Here, I found them off to the side of the battle in the courtyard of that Ruin last night..."

"Thanks," Fiddle accepted the bars.

"What do you have to report?" Captain Dunman asked. She was all business.

Erin filed the report. He included the passwords for each of the Portals and what to expect behind them. He also mentioned the potential for invasion of the Citadel of Ravens. Captain Dunman was pleased. She took the party to the Portal back to Lord Hawklin.

"In the Name of the Forest Kingdom...."

Lord Hawklin's valet was glad to receive the party. He found a place for the party to stow their gear while another servant fetch Lord Hawklin.

"All went well, I see," Lord Hawklin said. "And did you file a report with Captain Dunman? I would know more."

Erin again filed a report. This time the party speculated more on the possible locations found behind the portals. Lord Hawklin smiled when Fiddle mentioned the Old Skull Inn.

"I wonder if they know?" Lord Hawklin said aloud. "Well no matter. Here, here is your payment and Our thanks." He handed each party member a small pouch of gems.

"You are too generous," Alya cooed. "We only expected half this amount."

Fiddle tugged on the bard. "Ixnay on the enerousgay."

Darian turned to the pile of orcish things. "Shall we sell them?"

"One moment," Erin hummed. His eyes lit up and so did his smile. "Magic, magic, magic..."

The human Zhent warrior had a large magical wooden shield; the battle axe which Vlad had; magical banded mail; and a ring. The party had also recovered one potion from the orcs.

"Lets see about these first. Lord Hawklin can you help us?" Erin asked. "As part of our payment would you identify the magic involved in the manufacture of these items."

"I shall see if I can find someone," Lord Hawklin took his leave.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Sigh* _detect magic_.

*Mr Withers voice* 

_"And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for those lousy adventurers!"_

They almost sold off all the magical loot as mundane.  Almost.


----------



## diaglo

*Magic shop *

“You are in possession of some rather interesting items of magic here,” the wizard said. “This battle axe has several enchantments. The simplest one is evocation. It provides a means to penetrate armor better than normal weaponry. It also has runes in Chondathan, but the language is Damarran.”

“Let me see,” Vlad said. The runes about the single, sharp steel blade crackled with blue flame, “They name the axe 'Nightstrike', while additional runes on the polished darkwood handle of the axe further name the weapon 'Elf-cleaver'.  Clearly it is a blade of ancient lineage.”

“This ring will provide sustenance for its bearer,” the wizard continued. “And this potion is one of fiery breath.”

Erin took the ring and potion. He placed it on his finger.

“The banded mail has a stronger enchantment than the shield, but both provide a better form of protection,” the wizard finished.

Darian accepted the shield and mail. “I don’t know if I’ll keep the mail.”

“Well if you do sell it,” Fiddle mentioned. “I want my share. Sully you better take this Fireball scroll.”


----------



## biorph

**

Ya know if it's a holy symbol of Lolth, Bane, or just a weapon that uses too much black and red you can almost bet Darian is going to try to destroy it ASAP.  But you have a weapon actually NAMED "Elf-cleaver" and no one so much as even glances in Alya's direction. *sniffle* *whimper*


----------



## diaglo

*A rocky reunion*

Fiddle, Sully, Erin, Vlad, and Alya gathered at the Five Flagons. They prepared for their trip to Eveningstar. A monastery of Erin’s Order was located there. Erin wanted to inform his Order about the Moander warnings and find out what more information he could. From there they would travel to Tilverton to speak with Filani the Wisewoman. 

Richter and Darian entered the Common room. Darian sported a shining new set of chain mail. Richter carried his armor, purse, and arms. He laid them at Alya’s feet.

“Are we ready to leave?” Alya asked. “What’s this?”

“These are for you,” Richter said. “I owe you an apology and some compensation for your brother’s things.”

“For me?” Alya cooed. “Why thank you. I see they got my letter.”

“What’s this all about?” Erin asked.

“My order has _Geased_ me,” Richter informed the group. “I am to recompense Alya and seek her forgiveness for speaking unkindly against her brother, Veridian. It is all in this letter.” Richter handed the letter to Darian.

Darian read the letter. His brow furrowed. He tsked aloud several times.

“Alya, how much does Richter owe you?” Erin inquired.

“Ten thousand gold lions or there about,” Alya replied.

“We too are partly responsible,” Erin added. He handed Alya a large sum of trade bars.

“Don’t think these lies won’t go unanswered,” Darian rebuked. He too handed some gold to Alya.

“Well if you’ll excuse me I have a few things to sell and buy,” Alya left with Richter’s things.

“Don’t look at me,” Fiddle said.


----------



## diaglo

*The King's Forest*

Later that afternoon when Alya returned she was in a very happy mood. “All is forgiven,” she said to Richter.

Still the air was thick with the tension as the party left Suzail. They traveled North into the King’s Forest. Richter picked up a sturdy walking staff from the trail. He was still unarmored. And he wouldn’t accept offers by Vlad, Darian, Sully, Fiddle, or Erin to purchase new armor or arms. He wouldn’t even accept the use of spare arms or one of the infinite slings several party members carried.

As night approached the party entered the town of Dhedluk. A wooden palisade protected the town. All of the villagers the party encountered eyed the party suspiciously. Even at the Inn things weren’t much better. Erin offered to help man the walls for a watch. But the guards did not accept the offer of help. Something wasn’t right here.

In the morning, a caravan set off South for Suzail. No one, but the party, headed North. And with the tension still between the members, it was a slow quiet trip. A light rain came down on and off. Nothing else bothered the party. They bedded down just off the trail that evening.

The next morning, they were once again damp from a light drizzle. An hour or so on the trail everyone was soon lost in their own thoughts. A crashing sound was heard.

“Trouble from the East,” Fiddle yelled to the party. He dismounted and jumped into the brush. Sully, Vlad, and Erin joined him. Alya, Darian and Richter likewise moved off the trail. But they didn’t hide.

A large bear like creature crashed out of the forest. It had the features of an owl in its face and feathers mixed with fur on its arms. It also had several open wounds. Blood flowed freely. It charged at a position near where Sully had disappeared. Fiddle fired an arrow into a vital spot below the Owlbear's neck.


----------



## Angelsboi

Richter wouldn't.  It was a pride thing.  I wont discuss it in detail b/c I dont want to say something I'll regret later.  But Richter's (and my) pride wouldnt have allowed that.  

That would mean Alya won and he would have to ask for help.  He (or I) wasn't about o let that happen.

And I would also like to point out how happy she was when i mentioned I was Geased as she tried to tell me to shut up during my apology.

Not the sign of a good person.

I have my some isues but I wont drag them up here.  It was a great game and all worked out in the end.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Richter's response was quite in character for him.

Stubborn, pig-headed, and quite the opposite of the lesson the church leadership was trying to teach him, but quite consistent with his character.  Very well roleplayed by AB, BTW.

Of course, Alya was hardly gracious about the whole thing, the backstabbing wench   (also well-roleplayed by biorph).  Too bad there are secrets that can't be revealed yet; I think everyone would feel a little better about it.

Nothing like a little inter-party tension to liven things up -- at least it didn't come to blows.


----------



## diaglo

*Hunting party or Lords of the Hunt*

The Owlbear, although further injured, ignored the party even when Sully covered himself in magic nearby. It crashed thru the brush and fled. Two large creatures whooped and charged from the brush across the trail. They were chasing the Owlbear. Ogres. One carried a large tree stump. The other was armed with a Huge Greataxe. They saw Darian in his shining armor. Alya began to sing a tune of courage. She turned to Richter and pointed off to the Ogres. As Richter turned, she touched him. He briefly struggled against the magic, but soon vanished.

“Hmm, Fresh meat,” the lead Ogre said.

Darian cast a spell and moved further into the open. He knew Sully, Erin, Vlad and Fiddle had him covered. The Ogres almost closed the distance to Darian. Erin sprung from the brush and charged the Ogre with the tree stump. The Ogre instinctly swung at the monk. He caught Erin in the side. Erin used the momentum of the blow to power his punch. He landed a solid shot. Sully peppered the Ogre with two missles of magic. Fiddle fired an arrow into the Ogre’s torso. The Ogre had second thoughts about his action. Vlad fired an arrow into the torso of the other Ogre. Darian charged the Axe Ogre. The Ogre missed as Darian came near. Darian landed his mace solidly on the Ogre’s knee. Both Ogres were in dire straits. Richter appeared behind the Axe Ogre. His staff slid off the Ogre’s tough hide. Alya sang another tune. The Huge Greataxe fell to the ground covered in grease. The Ogres repositioned. Treestump swung over Erin’s head. The barehanded Ogre lunged for Darian. Darian smacked the Ogre’s arms aside with his mace.

Erin kicked out. Fiddle fired another arrow into the Ogre. Vlad went for the killing shot. Unfortunately, Erin moved into the way. Sully ended the Ogre with two more bolts of magic. Darian landed another blow with his mace. The last Ogre turned to flee. Richter struck him with his staff as he ran passed.

Erin gave chase. He leapt into the air and caught the Ogre on the back of his skull. The Ogre landed in a heap. Erin tumbled free. He searched the bodies. Darian and Richter performed last rites.

Fiddle checked the tracks. “We should be able to follow the Ogres back to the start of this trail. I don’t think they strayed to far from their home. Perhaps they were the cause of the trouble near Deadmoot.”

“One of the patrons of the inn said a caravan was attacked on this route,” Alya added.

“Fiddle, Vlad, and I will scout ahead,” Erin said. “The rest of you give us a couple minutes and follow.”


----------



## biorph

*Before we'd left in Suzail*

Alya was sweating buckets as she approached the temple. 
"But sweating under the weight of this much gold is a GOOD thing" she said to herself.

She hadn't wanted Richter's things but he didn't want to take them back, and she'd had enough of the way the rest of the party coddled the spoiled noble giving into his every whim.  Even now he was still dressed in noble's clothes. 

"I'd like to see him spend a week, living life out on the street" she also said out loud to herself again.  

Relief was in sight as she turned a corner to see Darian's temple of Lathander.  With luck she'd gotten here before he decided to tell everyone there to charge her double for everything she needed.  Luck was apparently still with her, the priests smiled and moved to help ease her strain when they saw she appraoched the temple.  

"I must still have the discounted rate for being one of Darian's traveling companions.  They're going to smile even more in a few minutes." She thought to herself

"Greetings fair Alya, how can the servants of the morning lord help you on this sun filled day?"

"I seek a boon from your head priest, good sir.  I have a fairly large request to ask, but I am willing to make a fairly sizable donation to the church to express my thanks."

The young priest took one look at the sacks of gold weighing more than 55 pounds and rushed off to summon the high priest.  

"Ahh temple priests" she though to herself "They are the same the world over"

The high priest approached, even his eyes widened at the large sacks of gold.  Alya wondered if the temple would see a new solid gold sun on the altar before the week was out.  If Richter's blacksmith father were to forge it, that would just be the cherry on the icing on the cake.  The icing was coming up right now.

"Holy father, I seek a boon. perhaps if we could talk in private, this may take awhile."

"Any friends of young master Domgard is more than welcome to the aid of the servants of the sun.  Especially ones so very generous in their donations" Said the high priest as they exited to his private chambers.


.........................................................................................................

As she left the temple, she felt like she could walk on air.  Thanks to Darian it was cheaper than she'd hoped, and given the church's generous nature she had confidence Darian and his family would certainly be recieved even more warmly by the church than before.  Cake, icing, cherry, frosting on the cherry...hmm, all this imagery had put her in the mood for some real cake though.

As she entered the inn, she was carrying a cupcake with a frosted cherry on top. She'd bought from a bakery down the street.

"Richter, your debt to me is cancelled."  She said "And Darian, sorry to you too for whatever, and your church and any other injury I may have caused you, let me know if you want me to apologize in writing."

"Soooo heartfelt Alya" replied Darian.  Richter, for once didn't say anything.  Not even a thank you for releasing him for him Geas 5000 gold short.  But it didn't really matter, nothing they thought did.  She'd gotten what she'd most wanted since she'd started out with them, there was had been no reason to make the rich brat suffer any more than was neccessary, it was obvious he wasn't going to learn anything, but that didn't matter either.  She mentioned where and to whom she'd sold Richter's things, on the off chance Richter would stop wallowing in his own self misery long enough to think to try getting them back.  Richter thought she was just rubbing it in.

As she walked back to her room she sang a tune she remembered from her childhood. "Love come quick, love come in a hurry..."  She obscured the last line from hearing with a mouth full of frosted cherry topped frosted cupcake.  The second sweetest thing she'd tasted today next to her success.


----------



## diaglo

*Ogres need a maid*

Anyone with half a brain could follow the tracks of the Ogres. After a short while, Fiddle, Erin, and Vlad discovered the area where the Ogres had ambushed the Owlbear. Feathers and blood and the signs of a scuffle marked the battleground. Fiddle found some more Ogre tracks. He signaled for the others to follow. They picked up the pace. An hour or so later they stood near a cave mouth. Fiddle checked outside.

“Two, maybe three Ogres,” Fiddle whispered.

“Lets check the cave,” Erin said.

They quietly edged closer and looked inside. The entrance went back a few feet and opened into a chamber. Piles of sacks, crates, broken wagon wheels, a skeleton, bolts of cloth, and other things littered the floor. No occupants. They began to search the items. The others soon appeared.

Seven Seas Trading Coster was etched on the wagon and crates. The skeleton had a signet ring with a similar mark. Fiddle also found a medallion on the skeleton. Sully sensed some magic about the medallion. Darian performed last rites. They sorted out what they could of value and loaded the horses. It took a couple hours before they were once again on the road to Eveningstar.

“When we find the rightful owners we will turn these things over to them,” Darian said. Richter looked at Fiddle.

“What? I’ll just hold this while we look,” Fiddle answered. Fiddle put the medallion around his neck.


----------



## diaglo

*Haunted Halls of Eveningstar*

The rest of the trip thru the King’s Forest was uneventful. Even the rain stopped. Although, it remained overcast. As the party entered the community of Eveningstar a patrol of farmers approached. They were armed with an odd assortment of weapons. Only one wore anything resembling armor, a leather jerkin.

“Hail travelers,” the jerkin farmer called. “What’s your business here?”

“We seek the Monastery,” Erin answered.

“Oh, the Morning Lord will see you,” the farmer misunderstood. “It is down the road to your left.”

“No, no, the Monastery of the Old Order,” Erin tried again.

“The godless ones,” the farmer stepped back a little. “You still better check in with the Morning Lord. And if you are like any of the other adventuring types that pass thru here, he will be able to tell you more about the Haunted Halls.” The farmer turned to his fellows. “Shall we let them pass?” They all nodded. “The inn also serves you types.”

The party set off for the Temple to Lathander. Outside several heavily armed groups were lounging about. Some were veterans, but most were novice adventurers. A paladin strode forth in greeting.

“Here to test your mettle in the Haunted Halls?” he asked. “Welcome and well met, I’m Nathan of Lathander.”

“Nay,” Erin bowed. “We seek the Monastery of the Old Order.”

“Oh, the godless ones,” Nathan commented. “Please, come in. I’ll have Thomas escort you there. They are across the pass from the old Bandit hold. It is said, ‘they carved their monastery out of the rock with their bare hands’.”

Darian made arrangements for most of the party to stay or store things in Eveningstar. Darian also inquired about the Seven Seas Trading Coster. He told the story of the party's encounter with the Ogres. Nathan told everyone of the heightened security due to the bandit raids. He tried talking them out of exploring the Haunted Halls. But the party wasn't interested in the Halls to begin with.


----------



## diaglo

*The Young and the Old*

“Can I take the spear and shield?” Thomas begged of Nathan.

“Yes, Thomas,” Nathan smiled. “It is a dangerous road. You will need to protect your charges.”

Thomas was very excited. As they made their way out of the temple and on the path to the Monastery he chatted incessantly about his goal to become a paladin and about everything in and around Eveningstar.

“Well this is where I leave you,” Thomas finally said. “Take that path and you’ll find the Monastery.”

Fiddle tipped the young man a silver coin and bid him good luck in his quests. 

Richter elbowed Darian and whispered under his breath, “Bless the young man.”

Darian was already ahead of the game. He took Thomas’ hand and sent him off with Lathander’s blessing and a Gold Lion.

The party climbed the ridgeline to the Monastery. At the Gate Erin mumbled the secret entrance words. Fiddle strained to understand and memorize them. The Gate opened. Erin led the way inside, a very narrow tunnel. Fiddle checked for possible murder holes, traps, or other dangers. It may be Erin’s Order, but it didn’t mean all were welcome.

They entered the Main Hall. An old man with a staff greeted them. Erin bowed.

“It has been a long time since someone spoke the words of entrance,” the old monk said.

“I am of the Order,” Erin replied. “I have much to tell you and ask you.”

“Come, we don’t share our information with those not of the Order. Your friends may stay in the cells after we share our evening meal.”

“Uh, that’s okay,” Vlad said. “I’m going back to the inn in Eveningstar.”

“Me, too,” Richter and Darian agreed simultaneously.

After seeing the cells Sully yelled, “Wait for me.”

Alya and Fiddle stayed. Erin left with the Old Monk.


----------



## diaglo

*Dry Cell...my battery ran low.*

Fiddle checked out his cell. He heard the click of the lock behind him. That wasn’t going to stop him if he got any ideas. He saw graffiti on the wall. Mostly the monks were uncreative. They left scratches for days counted. Fiddle decided to add some of his own. “Fiddle was here.” “What was in that gruel?” “Those who write on monastery walls; roll their leavings up in balls; those who read these tales of wit; eat those little balls of sh…” ran out of space. He soon became bored. All his life he was part of group. And now he found himself alone and away from the open road. He missed the others already. He pulled out his picks and went to work on the door.

Click. He opened the door and went outside. No one around. He used his picks to lock the door again. No use letting them get suspicious. He went to find Alya. At least she would keep him amused.

Click. He unlocked the door to the cell next door.

“Fiddle?” Alya asked. “What are you doing?”

“I was lonely and couldn’t sleep,” Fiddle replied. “I thought these monks would be more exciting. More like Erin. I thought we would have a better view of the Bandit hold or see more of the valley. These cells suck. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?”

“Sure,” Alya didn't understand. “I’ll sing you a lullaby.”

Fiddle shrugged. He locked the door and was soon fast asleep.


----------



## diaglo

*The Transporters*

The monks knocked on Alya’s door. After unlocking it, they went next door and did the same to Fiddle’s cell. And then knocked further down the hall. Alya and Fiddle met Erin for a breakfast of gruel before returning to Eveningstar. Sully, Vlad, and Richter were just having breakfast as the others arrived. Darian returned from morning prayers. Darian taunted Vlad and Richter some with greasy sausage before offering them a cure all for their hangovers. The party settled their bill and hit the road for Arabel.

Three days on the road was enough to get the cramps worked out of everyone’s system. Arabel was still not recovered. Alya donated some of her money to the homeless. Darian took everyone in search of the Seven Seas Trading Coster. The clerk inside was very busy.

“What can I do for you?” he said when he looked up from his desk full of papers.

“We have some bad news,” Darian started. “Is someone from the family available?”

“Nah,” the clerk replied. “The two younger members haven’t been by in some time. The rest of the family is in Suzail. You can tell me the news I’ll relay it to them.”

Darian handed over the signet ring and the young master’s ashes. He also explained that the party had some of the items from the failed caravan. He further asked if he could include a note with any caravans heading to Suzail.

“Did the young master own a medallion?” Fiddle asked. Fiddle waved the piece.

“No, not that I ever saw,” the clerk answered.

Fiddle smiled and ducked behind Richter. The clerk continued to chat away. He was a busy man. And though he was grateful for the news and the party’s help needed to get back to his work.

“Perhaps, we can help,” Erin offered. “Do you have any caravans heading to Tilverton?”

“Why, yes,  I do,” the clerk perked up. “Do you have any experience?”

"What's the cargo?" Fiddle asked.

"Rule number 1," the clerk responded.

The party haggled some. The clerk needed some horses and some guards. He also wished to avoid paying any bandit tolls or tax tolls for that matter at Castle Crag. The party agreed to rent their steeds and hitch a ride to Tilverton. They would also provide some protection. Five wagons in all plus 5 teamsters would accompany the party. The wagons were not to be disturbed. That peaked everyone's curiosity.


----------



## diaglo

*Who's buried in Grant's tomb?*

Erin rode on the lead wagon; Richter, Sully and Darian on the second wagon; Fiddle on the third; Vlad on the fourth; and Alya on the last. A heavy tarpaulin and thick rope bound and covered the contents of the wagons. And the teamsters kept a close eye on their guards. Fiddle suspected the contents of this caravan were not legal. He had ridden too many roads to let his curiosity go unchecked. At the first opportunity he took a peek. Boxes, crates, and barrels. None of which had the Seven Seas Trading Coster mark on them. Suspicious, but not unusual. He would have to ask the others what they thought. Best not to let Darian, Richter, or Erin know. They would not approve of breaking the contract.

The first night as they gathered around the campfire Fiddle told Sully and Vlad what he saw. Sully too had been suspicious. He wiggled his fingers.

“The fourth wagon has an area my magic can’t penetrate,” Sully said. “The other wagons must be normal items. No magic. The dimensions of the area are roughly 6 ft by 4 ft by 2 ft.”

“Sounds like a coffin,” Alya said. She must have been eavesdropping. “Do you want to check it out Fiddle?” She hummed a tune and Fiddle vanished.

Fiddle crept over to the suspect wagon. He began to untie the ropes to allow an area he could slip inside. One of the teamsters noticed the ropes. Fiddle moved away. He next tried to created a hole in the bottom of the wagon between two planks. Nothing big. Just something he could see inside with. His dagger struck the bottom of the coffin. A lead lined coffin. Somebody had gone to some expense to protect from scrying eyes. He hurried back to the others.

When Fiddle touched Sully on the shoulder, he appeared. “Lead,” Fiddle informed Sully, Vlad, and Alya. “We will need a better chance to get a look inside.”

No opportunities that night or the next. It began to rain on the third day.


----------



## diaglo

*Rain, rain go away*

The rain was very heavy at times. Visibility was limited. Fiddle was starting to think about riding under the tarp, he didn’t care if the teamsters noticed. There was a flash of lightning nearby and the clap of thunder. Something else screamed out in the dark. Some large shape dove into view for a brief second.

“Dragon,” Fiddle yelled. He leapt off his wagon and charged ahead.

A wyvern ravaged a horse on the lead wagon. Erin summoned his coating of magic and moved into a fighting stance. His ioun stone lit the area around him. The wyvern stung him. He faltered. Fiddle fired an arrow into the wyvern. Alya screamed at the rear of the caravan. She began to sing a song of courage and bravery. Vlad fired an arrow into the wyvern attacking the rear. Sully coated Richter in magic. Richter moved into a defensive position. Darian summoned Lathander’s mace and also jumped off the wagon. The mace struck the wyvern. The teamster on the first wagon disembarked and ran for cover in the ditch. The second teamster cowered. The Fiddleless wagon pulled around the chaos. Vlad’s driver followed suit. The fifth teamster was down. The wyvern’s poison taking its toll on his system.

Erin battled away with the front wyvern. Fiddle fired another arrow. Oops, he had the wyvern’s attention. The beast landed near Fiddle and stung him. Fiddle fought off the poison. The wyvern at the rear attacked the other tethered horse on the fifth wagon. Darian fired his crossbow at the front wyvern. The Mace of Lathander followed. Richter stayed in a defensive position. Sully covered himself in magic. Alya continued forward at a run, but she was not visible.

“Stop,” Vlad threatened his driver with his rapier. The wagon stopped. He pulled his bow.

The first wagon was empty with one dead horse and one panicked, but stuck. The second wagon was halted, but defended. The third wagon was lost from sight. The fourth wagon was alongside the second. The fifth wagon was without horses and passagers.

Erin continued to fight the wyvern. Fiddle dropped his bow and drew his blades. Lightning Strike left a scar across the wyvern’s hide. Alya touched Fiddle. He felt a different level of magic around him. Darian fired another bolt. And his god’s mace ended the wyvern’s life. The other wyvern joined the battle.  It stung Fiddle. Fiddle shook this poison off, also. Alya’s magic had no effect on the creature.  The wyvern was real close to the second wagon. Richter remained defensive. Sully stepped back and read his scroll aloud. The small bead of fire didn’t travel very far.

BooooMMMmm

Vlad peppered it with an arrow.

Erin summoned his force magic. He closed on the new threat. Fiddle dodged around the wyvern’s legs. He hamstrung the creature. Darian hit it with a bolt. The wyvern looked at its dead mate and its own injuries. It leaped into the air and was soon out of sight. The rain continued to fall. 

Richter ran back to the fifth wagon. He helped the driver as he could. Darian and Alya arrived to aid. The driver would live. But three of the horses would not. With only one spare horse, it meant the trip would be even slower. Erin and Fiddle had located the other wagon and drivers and brought them back. The party walked to ease the burden on the horses. What was to be four days remaining travel was now eight.


----------



## diaglo

*Cold hard iron*

The party earned its money on this trip. As promised they didn’t stop at Castle Crag, even though, everyone knew Alya wanted to see her new friends. So when they reached Tilverton it was with a huge sigh of relief. They went to collect their payment and be rid of the cargo. Darian left for the Rose Temple. Richter went to the cemetery. The others went to visit Filani the Wisewoman at the Tower of Wits and Work.

Erin, Vlad, Fiddle, Sully, and Alya handed over the collection of wyvern, hydra, Ogre, wolf, etc…parts to Filani. She in turn told them all she could find out about their previous questions. Most of it didn’t concern Fiddle so he paid little attention. However, when Filani began to tell Sully about a way to kill the fey she said the party already had part of the required components. She mentioned a cold curved short weapon. Fiddle looked at Lightning Strike. The audience was over and Filani asked if there was anything more.

“Can you identify the magic within this medallion?” Fiddle quickly blurted. “Sully says it is abjuration. But I want to know more about it. I’ll pay the costs for the research.”

Filani accepted the medallion and money. “Come back tomorrow morning. I’ll know more then.”


----------



## diaglo

*Another one bites the...*

The party went back to the Flagon Held High. Darian grabbed Fiddle’s attention when they came in. Richter was at a table in new armor.

“What’s up?” Fiddle whispered.

“I have a commission for you,” Darian smiled. “I need you to swap these items for Richter. You can keep the ones he currently carries.” Darian gave Fiddle Richter’s heirlooms; the bastard sword and trademark whip. “I got them from the Church. Make sure he doesn’t know.”

“It’s as good as done,” Fiddle gleamed.

He took the bastard sword first. Richter had a tendency to place his sword to his right side when he sat. The scabbard wouldn’t allow him to sit properly on a chair when left on his back. The exchanged happened without a hitch. Well, Erin noticed, but he always did. Fiddle winked. After a few more rounds and pleasant conversation and trips to the room to hide the bastard sword Fiddle tried for the whip. Richter kept that attached to his side. The removal wasn’t the problem. And Fiddle proved that to be true. Again no one noticed. It was the replacement. As Fiddle tied the old new whip back into place Richter reached down.

“Fiddle?” Richter said as he grabbed the hin’s ear. “What are you doing?”

“Ooops,” Fiddle replied. “You drop…”

“Fiddle,” Richter kept up the pressure.

“I was commissioned to swap your items,” Fiddle finally told Richter. “But I can’t tell you by whom.”

Richter looked at his whip and bastard sword. Recognition. He looked at Darian.

“Well,” Darian admitted. “I couldn’t let you be without them.”

“Thank you,” Richter simply replied. “I’ve decided to stay here in Tilverton. I had a vision on the way and now after visiting the cemetery I understand its meaning. I am to be the new priest here of Kelemvor.”

“Good luck,” the party said as one.

They partied late into the evening. In the morning they would leave for the Barrows after a few stops.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

What's with the price tag?


----------



## diaglo

i was trying out a new method to pimp readers. i figured the price tag might lure them in. kinda like a 50% off one does.

have a lot more to add today. and others will probably want to add their own points of view.

summary:

we had a city based adventure where the party was split up. i don't think at any one time more than 3 characters were together. mostly it was a lot of individual events.

just remember i'm Fiddle, one of the little guys, so i didn't see everything.


----------



## JoeBlank

Once diaglo/Fiddle is done, I'll have Sully talk to Red about what he saw. This should help during the city portion when everyone split up, as Sully saw most of the important stuff.

diaglo, it seems to me that changing the storyhour title as frequently as you do can hurt readership as much as it helps. With the thread subscribed, I know right where it is each time. I can see where someone who read that great storyhour about the ruined moathouse and comes looking for more a few weeks later would be lost.

Of course, it serves our purpose and is always entertaining to see what the title will be after each session. Your subtitles are often laugh-out-loud hilarious.


----------



## diaglo

*Flaming pit BBQ on legs*

Morning came and the party said its farewells again to Richter. Not everyone remembered all that was said or done the night before. Vlad poked at his breakfast. Fiddle held his head still with his elbows propped on his knees.

“FIRRRREEE,” a voice in the street bellowed.

The party leapt to its feet. Their leave-taking forgot about for a few moments. Richter joined them.

Outside a figure ran down the street screaming. He wore banded armor. And he was on fire. Flames hung on his body. Erin, the fastest moving member of the party, attempted to tackle the fellow and smother the fire. Darian, Vlad, and Richter went to his aid. Fiddle grabbed a helmet full of water from the horse trough. Sully and Alya couldn’t get any closer. They tried to calm the crowd forming.

The figure, a half-orc, was in a panic. Erin missed the tackle the first time. He felt the heat from the flames. Fiddle doused the fire with the helmet-bucket. The water had no effect. Upon closer inspection, Sully was able to see a trace of magic about the flames. The magic seemed to be consuming the energy from the half-orc. He was losing some of his ability to stand and act normally. Richter, Vlad, Darian, and Alya tried handfuls of dirt from the street. Nothing worked. Erin cut away the banded armor.

“Maybe if he lost consciousness the magic will stop?” Fiddle thought. He stepped in under the Half-orcs guard and struck him a powerful blow below the belt.

“Ooooo,” the crowd winced.

The half-orc regained some focus. He tried to grab Fiddle.

“Make way, make way, Stand aside,” a fellow in the robes of War Wizard hurried thru the crowd.

_Simon nextra_

The flames quit. Fiddle ducked back into the crowd. He didn’t want the Half-orc to find him.

“Vlad,” Fiddle whispered. “Where’s Sully?”


----------



## diaglo

*Hot on the trail*

Erin, Darian and Richter took the Half-orc inside the Inn to the party’s room. The War Wizard asked questions to the crowd. Fiddle looked around for signs of Sully or Red. He found their tracks. Vlad, Alya, and he took off after the gnome. As they neared the Baker’s shop another strange event occurred. Lightning streaked across the street and demolished a cart. The bolts came from the eyes of the startled Baker.

“I’m gonna go get more help,” Alya yelled.

Fiddle and Vlad turned back to see Darian, Erin, and Richter exiting the Inn. They looked up the street at the Baker’s destruction.

“They can handle this,” Fiddle said. “Come on, Sully may need our help.”

Fiddle and Vlad hustled along following the trail. As they rounded a corner, another strange sight caught their eye. A crowd stared up. A woman wailed and flopped about 30ft off the ground.

“I hope she doesn’t get scared and wet herself,” Fiddle thought. “Hurry,” he said out loud.

Vlad waved his hand at the lady and kept going with Fiddle. They left the market area. And the road was now mostly stone. It has getting harder to find the tracks of the gnome and fox. But they really didn’t need them.

The next creepy thing the dynamic rogues found was a dwarven smith staring at a wall. A tentacle faced creature hung in the wall. Several screams drew their attention up ahead. They also finally spotted Sully. Sully went around another corner. The screams came from bystanders running from a large shadowy dog, a shadow mastiff.

“I’ve got this,” Vlad drew his battle axe.

Fiddle ran for all he was worth to catch up to Sully.


----------



## diaglo

*Agent of Chaos meets a chaotic end*

Sully had just reached a half-elf who was kneeling and holding his hands to face. Just ahead of them was a hooded figure. He was very close to the Gates to leave Tilverton.

“Halt,” Fiddle yelled. “Stay where you are.”

The figure turned and saluted to Fiddle and then turned back to the Gates. Sully also saw Fiddle. He pointed at the hooded figure. Fiddle ran to the Gate. He passed Sully and the Half-elf. He passed the hooded figure…

A wave of magic assaulted Fiddle’s senses. He shook it off. He turned to look at the figure. White hair. Dark skin. Slight of build. An elf. A dark elf. A drow. Fiddle stopped and drew his blades. In the distance he saw Sully preparing a spell. He also saw Vlad sprinting forward with his battle axe.

“Halt,” Fiddle said again. “A War Wizard wishes to have a word with you.” Fiddle bluffed.

“The Agent of Chaos will not be stopped,” the elf said. He threw back his hood.

“Was he talking about himself or someone else?” Fiddle thought.

He had no time now to figure it out. The drow summoned an area of darkness. Luckily Fiddle’s coin still let the sunshine in around him. However, he lost sight of the others. The drow tumbled forward. Dragon style. Fiddle recognized the maneuver from Erin. But it still didn’t help him stop the blow. The elf laughed after punching Fiddle.

Fiddle just needed to stop the elf from fleeing. He also needed to buy time for Vlad to appear from behind. Fiddle went into a defensive stance of his own. He thrust out with his dagger and Lightning Strike, but more to keep the elf’s attention than to cause any real harm. The drow took the bait. This time he attempted a series of blows at Fiddle. The hin avoided them.

ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzZZ

The drow’s head fell at Fiddle’s feet. Vlad stood there grinning. Colorful motes of light sprang off from Vlad’s eyes. Perhaps, the Chaos had found Vlad too.

“Elf-cleaver,” Vlad laughed. “Very aptly named.”

Fiddle picked up the head. And gave head to Vlad. 

The darkness spell vanished. Darian, Richter, Erin, Alya, and a large antlike creature came to join them. Sully landed nearby. He sported a pair of large dragonfly wings.


----------



## diaglo

*The monk gets lucky*

Purple Dragons and War Wizards arrived. The ant creature vanished. Sully had acquired the hooded cloak. He said it had a magical component.

“We will take the drow to Filani maybe she knows more,” Erin told the Guard. “There are others needing help still too. Do you have any idea what the drow was doing or how he got here?”

The Guard mentioned the Front Gate was on fire. But no one saw the drow until now.

“Fiddle, did he say anything?” Sully asked.

“Only that I wouldn’t stop him,” Fiddle answered somewhat truthfully. He wasn’t going to tell the authorities all he knew. 

Vlad’s magic stopped. No harm. No foul side effects. The party went to the Tower of Wits and Work. Filani was expecting them. Well, not all of them just Fiddle. And she was not prepared for what they told her.

“What do you know about this drow?” she asked.

Fiddle held up his hand. In perfect form he mimicked the drow, even the accented Common. Filani’s expression was not good.

“No one has spoken like that in many many years. And about the Agent of Chaos. Let me do some research. Come back later.”

“My medallion?” Fiddle interrupted.

“Oh, yes. It provides a form of protection,” Filani handed it to Fiddle. “It hardens the skin with magic.”

Fiddle gave it to the near naked monk, Erin. The party left for the Flagon Held High. Tilverton was a buzz with talk of the Chaos. A finely dressed woman smiled at the party. Erin excused himself early. The woman left soon afterwards. She followed Erin.

"Somebody got lucky," Alya chuckled.


----------



## diaglo

*Magnificient Seven minus one*

From all the party could gather from the Inn, from Filani, and from Erin  , something very bad and very new was in the air.


 The Agent of Chaos has been freed
The storeroom of Deneir has been breached, a Myth Drannor reference
Beware the Banes or Fanes of the Eldreth Veluuthra
Report all you find to Jhaer Brightsong, a Harper in the Dales

Darian also received a nice gem from the family of the Seven Seas Trading Coster. They were appreciative of the service the party had performed for their lost heir.

Filani also identified the magic of the cloak. It boosted the resistance of the wearer. Something Sully needed. It even shrunk to his size. Magic.

The party bid Cormyr and Richter Goodbye. Darian couldn’t wait much longer. The quest for the Sword of Truth or Light or whatever it was called beckoned. They set off for the Dales and the Barrows.


----------



## biorph

*Gond with the Wind*

When she saw the half orc bing carried safely away a cold feeling of suspicion chilled her bones.  The war wizard was only prepared to dispel one of those spells, and something told her this wasn't over, not by a long shot.  When she saw the half-orc was being seen to she slipped out into the crowd and booked her way to the temple of Gond tghe Wonderbringer.  It was the closest temple, and as the largest in the city, she prayed that at least someone there had asked for the ability to dispel evil magics in their morning vespers.  She arrived just as the doors were opening.

"TROUBLE..." she gasped to a confused young acolyte, "need someone...dispel magic...HURRY"

"I'll get the high preist right away, please sit a moment ma'am" said the young acolyte

"HURRY!" Shouted Alya to the fleeing cleric.  

A few moments later Alya was able to recover her breath enough to talk in complete sentences.  Soon another gnome came out with the very flustered young acolyte.

"I am the head of this cchurch" he said politely "What seems to be the trouble"

Alya collected her wits for a moment "Trouble in the middle of town we need someone who can dispel magic, and quickly."

"Well I'm sure the war wizards can handle it" replied the priest

"No, they can't, they only had one memorized for today, and it's gone, we'll need as many as you have prepared" said Alya

"Well I'm afraid I only have one prepared myself, there's not much call for it you see, no one else really has it." replied the priest

"One is better than none, can you run?" said alya, absentmindedly slipping into verse

"As well as I'm able" said the priest now somewhat overly concious of his height.

"Right, forgive me father-" replied alya

"Well it's alright" The priest interrupted "It's an easy mis- HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" the priest shouted as Alya threw the priest over her shoulder and took of like a shot back toward the center of town.

"Like I was saying, forgive me father but we need to make haste" she replied.

As she looked up she could see large streaks of lightening shoot off into the sky.  "I really wish I hadn't been right this time" she thought to herself.

As she ran against the fleeing crowds she came upon Darian, Erin, and Richter trying to calm a screaming woman floating in the air.  "The only thing she appears to really be in danger of is giving hersself a heart attack" thought Alya to herself.  Right now the three others were trying to get her to calm down. 

"I've brought help" said Alya

"Yes, though I'm afraid that if I dispel the enchantment holdiong her, she may die from the fall" said the priest

"If we could get a rope to her, maybe we could get her hold on and pull herself down" suggested Erin "But she's too paniced to grab on to anything."

"Wait I've got an idea" said Darian.  A large glowing eagle appeared on his arm.  "Take this rope up to the woman" he told it.

Unfortunately a woman in a panic 30  feet up in the air isn't the calmest of minds, and rather than believe the eagle was helping her, instead thought this was some new attack on her and tried to bat it away.

"Lathander preserve me" said Darian "Just try to loop it around her then" He called up to the eagle.  Thankfully, this it was able to do, as the party dragged the screaming woman down from the sky, and the priest dispelled her curse Richter noticed that there seemed to be more scream of fear and panic up ahead.  

"Something's happening toward the gate on the other side of town" He shouted above the din

"I'm afraid that's the end on my usefulness for the day" Said the priest "I only had one dispel prepared and that was it"

"Damn" said Alya "Can you go try one of the other temples then?  Maybe some other war wizards? The sage Filani?"

"The was wizards are mostly toward the center of town and they would be your best bet, but I will see who else I can find that can help." 

We'd better hurry" said Richter "It sound like we'll have to deal with something more dangerous than a floating woman in a panic."  The rest of the party agreed and began to run off to the center toward the trouble.

.........................................................................................................

Later as they get Filani to identify their items she thinks to herself.  "Hmmm, that cloak is of elven make. It's not the hiding cloak of an archer, but a basic cloak of protection.  Are we going to find another lost voice to bury in the vale when we travel back to the barrows.  Would I prefer that or would I prefer to find that the elves have been infiltrated by the dark ones again.  Too many questions.


----------



## diaglo

*Up next; Stay tuned*

update after this Sunday.

currently, the party is in Tilverton in the Kingdom of Cormyr. they are on their way to the Barrowfields of Mistledale to attempt to complete a quest for the Church of Lathander. Darian has sworn an oath of secrecy. But it involves some Magic Sword of the Church.

Froof will be leaving the group. Something about improving his lot in life by advancing his education.


----------



## diaglo

*shopping spree and parting*

Fiddle heard tales of a light strong metal, _mithril, _ fashioned by the dwarves into lightweight armor. He wanted to see if it was true. He asked around Tilverton. No luck. Darian said he had tried in Suzail with similar results. So Fiddle resolved himself to watching and waiting at the Flagon Held High. Unfortunately, Erin left. He said something about catching back up with the party some time in the distant future. But for now he was off to Candlekeep. A trek halfway across the Heartlands.  The rumors persisted. 

 Orc and Gnolls are raiding the Northride.
Drow and gibberlings have been raiding in the Dales
A traveling minstrel, Jevvica Noir, is performing tonight at the Flagon Held High
The paladin Kelerecent of Lathander has gone missing
A dragon has been hunting the hills north of Tilverton
A new priest has taken over at the cemetery south of town
A merchant is looking to hire guards to do some logging in the Cormanthor forest
The magical armor that belonged to King Azoun has gone missing
Adventurers are still hunting for the lair of the Dragon that killed the King
Goblins have been raiding the mountains around High Horn
Alusair intends to grant the title of Baron of the Stonelands to anyone who can build and maintain a castle there for a year
The crown has raised taxes yet again to pay for the rebuilding of Arabel
The crown jewels of Cormyr have been stolen! They were smuggled out of Suzail in a trading caravan

Sully had gone off to mark the occassion of the party's successes. He came back with the proof. At least one new tattoo. Alya bided her time also at the Flagon Held High with Vlad. Darian spent time fashioning several items. Some with magic. Others for decoration. Others for who knows what reason.

The bard, Jevvica Noir, was okay. Her performance was no better than any other wandering mistrel. But she winked at the party. Recognition. Alya and Fiddle looked at each other. 

"I guess after Erin," Vlad made a comment, "she wants more of this party."

The group hung around until the end of the performance. As Jevvica went around thanking her audience and accepting tips she leaned forward and whispered to Alya. She continued the rounds and left the inn.

"Outside," Alya said. "She wants to talk with us."

Sully, Vlad, Fiddle and Alya exited stage left.


----------



## diaglo

*Backroom, alley, or trusty wood, I used her she used me...*

"Can we help you?" Alya asked.

"Not here," Jevvica responded she motioned to the alleyway and ducked behind the corner.

The party looked at each other and shrugged. Fiddle looked around to see if anyone was watching before he followed.

"Do you have any information for me?" Jevvica asked. "That is why you came, is it not?"

"Information?" Alya queried. "You've got the wrong group."

"You were with Erin, were you not?" Jevvica began to second guess herself. "Did he not send you?"

"Erin is gone," Sully answered. "He left rather abruptly. With barely a by your leave. Although now you mention it. You do look familiar."

"Oh, I see," Jevvica started to leave. "Too bad, really, I pay rather well for relevant information."

"Well, now," Fiddle perked up. "I know quite a bit of things."

"For the good of the Realms," Jevvica tried to add. "I'm all ears."

"Bah, screw the Realms, what's in it for me," Fiddle remarked.

"I'll pay, but first give me some idea what you know," Jevvica bargained.

"Well, the drow are about..." Fiddle looked at Jevvica she didn't seemed interested. "And there is a tunnel in the basement of the Old Skull Inn in Shadowdale..."

"How do you know this?" Jevvica interrupted.

"Ha, hooked her, " Fiddle thought.

"Fiddle," Alya cautioned. "Darian won't like this. You swore an oath."

"Bah, he swore an oath and he ain't here," Fiddle replied.

"Mistress Noir," Sully asked. "why would you want to know these things?"

"A Harper," Vlad blurted out. "She's one of those noisy  good for nothing Harpers. Sticking their noses into other peoples affairs and making them spend their time, money, resources, and lives to correct problems only the Harpers find wrong." He spit to emphasis the point.

"Why yes," Jevvica nodded. 

"Well I was there," Fiddle answered without a care. "I wondered out of a portal..."

"We're going now," Alya cut in. "We're off to Mistledale."

"Rather rude, your elf companion is," Jevvica said to Fiddle. "If you do find out anything more, talk to Jhaer Brightsong in Ashabenford."


----------



## diaglo

*A few more pieces fall together*

The party set off for Mistledale. They passed Jehovah's WatchTower and the Thunder Peaks. Nothing bothered their travels. Well, it did rain nonstop. But no monsters, bogey men, or hazards. By the time they reached Peldan's Helm they were still ready for a break.

"Ho there in the Keep," Fiddle yelled up to the gate.

"Ho there on the road," Sabine replied from on top of the tower. "Open the gate." She hollered down to the other guard. "The Inn is quite full. The Company of the Burning Brand has returned also."

"It is good to be wanted," Alya smiled.

The party went to the Inn. When Wilf saw them he had Gora clear a space for his heroes. He sat and listened and asked and chatted and...It seemed as if the world was heading to bad times.

Gibberlings attacked a farm near the verges of the forest northeast of Peldan's Helm
Dumic the Red met with a strange red-robed man at his ranch
A new logging camp has been set up south of Elven Crossing to provide lumber for the Ublers, who are talking about building a sawmill on the Ashaba
Wharlum Deepdelver and his guide Dorek Stonebeard have returned from their expedition to the Thunder Peaks.
The Company of the Burning Brand returned from their latest adventure talking of finding a shadowy dark elf in a crypt.

Fiddle noticed the dwarves in the corner drinking. He would talk to them later. For now Himool and Company talked of their adventures. Free drinks. Carl sat off to the side rolling his eyes. Gerta the dwarf was missing, replaced by a half-elven woman with the sign of Sune.

"Sune," Fiddle thought. "I'm getting lucky tonight  " Fiddle approached Carl.

"How fares your travels runt?" Carl asked.

"Well," Fiddle answered showing off his gauntlets, belt, boots, necklace of teeth, and items. "And what really happened in that crypt? We killed your friend the dark elf."

"I split him in half," Vlad added.

Carl exchanged some information with the party. Gerta died at the hands of a wraith and a failed attempt to send the power of Moradin chasing it away. When Himool was ready they would try again in a tenday to enter the Barrows. Sully tried to swap a few scrolls, but Carl wasn't interested.

"Fiddle," Alya interrupted. "Would you help me with the horses ?"

Fiddle mentioned, "Damarran" to Carl as he left.

"So it was you," Carl called after him. "That explains much"


----------



## diaglo

*A plan is hatched and set in motion*

"I have a plan," Alya said when they were alone. "And I know you have been eager to try it. What do you think it would take to swipe Himool's sword?"

"Sweeeettt," Fiddle chuckled. "But I'm afraid even though Himool, the lady elf, and the new comer are almost drunk Carl and his familiar are not. Let us observe them a little more and see if the opportunity presents itself. Do you think anyone else would be interested in helping?"

"Well I'll ask Sully and maybe Vlad," Alya nodded. "But Darian is a no-no. I have another idea once we succeed." She smiled like the cat who ate the canary.

Fiddle went back inside. Darian had gone off to see to Wilf's wife. She had been ill. Heartbroken really since her adopted daughter, Bernedette, had perished. And seeing the dwarves had reminded her of the loss. Fiddle approached the dwarves. They looked very worse for wear.

"What did that to you?" Fiddle asked. "Not the drow I hope."

"Nay," Wharlum replied. "I took 20 of me strongest and bravest kinsman. We made short work of the drow. And all the other things in the place that got in our way. No, all went well. We had entered the old clanhold. And were on our way to recovering the lost cache of Duergeddin's weapons when we neared an underground lake. There...I saw my kin flee. Some unnatural fear overcame them. A dragon..."

"Dragon did you say?" Fiddle spoke up. "I'm a Dragonslayer."

"You don't say," Wharlum handed Fiddle another ale. "Drink up and tell me of your experiences. We are looking to hire some mercs."

Fiddle told the dwarves all he could over drinks. But the dwarves had been at it for what was probably many days. They passed out before Fiddle settled on a deal. Which was fine. Cause Fiddle hadn't consulted his party. 

"No going it alone," Fiddle thought. "I can handle myself, but I still need someone to watch my back."

The next day Darian spent crafting another item. One to restore Wilf's wife. So Alya laid out her plan to Sully and Vlad. Both were apprehensive at first. But Alya explained what she had in store for Darian afterwards. They all laughed. Vlad and Sully agreed. If for no other reason then to shut Himool up and to make Darian the butt of some private joke. That night Fiddle hung around Carl again and listened to Himool repeat the story of the Barrows adventure.

The following day the party left. They bid their farewells to Wilf and Gora. Wilf's wife was much better. They headed to the edge of the woods. From here Fiddle and Sully would head back. Alya made Fiddle vanish first. And Sully changed his appearance. They hustled for the spell would not last long.


----------



## diaglo

*Never send a man to do a hin, elf, and gnome's job*

"What brings you to Peldan's Helm, young Missy?" Sabine asked Sully.

"I've come to sing a few songs and learn some more gossip," the young, now female gnome, replied. The spell had altered Sully's vocal chords too.

Fiddle strolled inside undetected. The gates were still open. He went to the Inn to wait for Sully.

Sully stayed, chatted, and explained her sudden appearance with little to no equipment and very weak singing voice.  to the guards. Eventually she was allowed entrance. And was directed to the Inn.

"Fiddle?" Sully whispered to the outside air. "I'll cast a spell on the sword from my scrolls. When you have it let me know."

Fiddle entered the Inn. He made his way to the sword. Himool had left it in the middle of the table again on display. The Company of the Burning Brand wasn't drunk yet. They had just sat down for their meal.

Fiddle grabbed the sword. It blinked out of existence. But for a brief moment things had intensified. The invisibility spell was working but not fully. Fiddle made for the door. He heard Carl's voice starting to rise. Fiddle beat feet.

"I've got it," Fiddle said to Sully as he ran for the gate. Behind him a mass of sticky webs covered the porch of the Man with Fire in his Hands Inn. Fiddle ran faster.

"Stop the thief," a voice shouted.

"She's casting a spell," another added.

"Where'd she go?" the first asked.

"She's there," a female voice mumbled.

Fiddle was out of earshot now. His heart raced as his feet pounded the pavement. He slowed as he approached the gate. The guards seemed to be unaware of the disturbance at the Inn. Fiddle crept past. And then beat feet. He ran and ran and ran. Hopefully Sully would meet back up with him and Alya at the predetermined spot.

Half an hour later, Sully appeared. The ruse of going hunting almost didn't work on Darian. But Alya was able to make the most of it.  They also broke camp. Sully and Fiddle went back to lay some false tracks.


----------



## diaglo

*Don't talk to strangers*

Before bedding down for the night, Alya suggested to Darian he would find something very interesting in his dreams. Fiddle tried hiding the sword while Darian was distracted. But it was next to impossible. He hadn't heard the command word, so there was no way to turn the flame off. He placed it in the fire pit and covered the hilt with a stone. The fire burned brighter.

The night passed without incident. No patrols. No Himool and Company. Nothing. Some time in the night Alya moved the sword to Darian's side.

The next morning Darian startled everyone. "I've had a vision. And by the looks of this sword it was true."  Alya tried to make him believe the truth in the dream. Darian then went to pray for his spells. 

A few moments later, Darian returned, "Funny. I got the impression Lathander was laughing at me."

The other party members all looked away as they too tried to suppress their laughs.

The rain stopped. And the travel ahead was clear. Even as the party passed the familiar "BEWARE" sign outside the Barrows, they could see for miles. An old crone moved their way. And further into what was normally mist the party could see a lake and an island with a hut. Sully covered himself in magic.

"Hail Grandmother and well met," Alya called.

"Tell your small friend I'm no threat to you," the elder croaked. Her voice was like rustling leaves. Barely audible.

"Who are you?" Darian asked. "And how do you survive here?" Darian thought about casting a spell of his own but had second thoughts as the old woman got closer. She was an elf. A wrinkled elf. Very ancient.

"I'm Sybil. Come, follow me, we will have tea and chat," Sybil replied.

The party now noticed a small canoe. Fiddle and Alya got in with Sybil and paddled across the lake. Fiddle sang  a song,

"row, row, row your boat...


----------



## diaglo

*Baba Sybil's almost dancing hut*

As Fiddle paddled, Alya and Sybil chatted. Alya remembered a story or two about from her studies about an elven maiden who followed the forbidden arts of necromancy. Her name was Sybil. And by this crone age she very well could be the same one. When they reached shore, Alya and Sybil departed and Fiddle went back for the others.

"I hope this doesn't turn ugly," Fiddle thought. He increased his strokes just in case.

Sully flew over as Fiddle took Darian and Vlad by boat. The horses had to stay behind. On the second trip Fiddle finally got a good look at the hut. It was made of very large bones. A bone fence surrounded the place, too. Nothing grew on the island.

The party hurried inside. The interior was a simple place. More workshop and laboratory than home. But Sybil offered them some tea. The drinking bowls were unusual.

"The skull of a?" Darian asked.

"Orc," Sybil replied. "I have bones from all my subject matter. I will answer any questions you wish to ask if you do a favor for me."

Darian and Alya continued to chat away about the Barrows.

"What's the favor?" Sully broached.

"I need someone to take care of my nemesis, the White Wolf," Sybil said. "Bring me the pelt."

"Done," Fiddle agreed. "We fought the pack once already. Well, I didn't but the others did. I was guarding the horses. We will be back to ask our questions when it is dead. We must leave. I don't wish to leave our horses out there hobbled and unprotected."

The party bid a quick farewell and setoff before it was dark. They would have to camp on the open plain. But at least they could see. Still Fiddle hid in the tall grass.

Vlad had first watch. The others settled in for the night. Sully covered himself in magic again before sleeping.


----------



## diaglo

*if you want to ride; don't ride the White Wolf*

"Wake up," Vlad kicked everyone awake. "We've got company."

A very, large mangy Off White colored Wolf and 4 normal sized ones growled and charged into the camp. The White Wolf neared Vlad and Darian. One approached Sully. One cornered Alya near the fire. One off to Darian's other side. And the last one circled Vlad's other side. Fiddle was left alone on the far side of the fire.

Fiddle flung a dagger at the wolf near Sully. A solid hit. But it didn't seem to bother the beast. Darian stepped back and called on Lathander's protection. Alya stepped back and started to sing. But the wolf near her grabbed her leg. She was paralyzed with fear. Her elven blood frozen or forgotten  The ghoulish wolf yanked her from her feet. Sully moved aside and fired off a stream of magic at the White Wolf and his companions. It was unaffected. But one of the smaller wolves froze. Vlad stabbed out with his rapier. The wolves responded. The White Wolf bit at Vlad. Alya's wolf ravaged her as she lay frozen. Vlad too was bitten by another wolf. He too froze in place. His was more of a paralysis. The ghoulish wolf yanked him to the ground. Sully's foe snapped at the air.

Fiddle pulled another dagger and attacked the ghoul on Alya. Lightning Strike scored a gash.  Darian stepped back and called on the Sun. The clouds blocked his attempts to rout the ghouls.  Sully fired another round of magic into the White Wolf. This time as three balls of painful magic. The wolves bit at Fiddle, Darian and Sully. None landed on the party. The White tried for Darian. The protection from Lathander was just in time.

Fiddle attacked on the defensive. His dagger dug into the ghoul. Still the ghoul fought on. Darian tried again. This time the clouds parted and the power of Lathander was strong. The four ghoulish wolves exploded. Sully fired off another round of magical balls. The White Wolf lunged again for the priest.

Fiddle tumbled passed the White Wolf and attacked from the rear. Lightning Strike got some attention. Darian stepped back and tried one more time to force the White to flee. It wasn't afraid of Lathander. This undead was much too powerful. Sully concentrated more magical balls into the White. It was starting to feel the results of its injuries. It turned on Fiddle. It miscalculated the hin's height. And chomped too high.

"Yikes," Fiddle screamed. He went into a defensive posture and stabbed out with his dagger and Lightning Strike. Another hit. Darian swung with his new flaming sword. A new open wound that didn't spill any blood. It was reminded of its vulnerability by Sully. The White Wolf fled.

Fiddle gave chase. Although, he couldn't catch up he hadn't lost sight of the beast. More importantly the others could still see. Darian healed Alya. She came around. Sully fired three more balls of magic. The White Wolf fell over dead once again.

Fiddle skinned the beast. Not his best job, but it was passable. Vlad was paralyzed for some time.


----------



## diaglo

*Tomb of Horrors here we come.*

Sully flew across and retrieved the boat. He brought it back to the party before flying back on his own. Fiddle let Vlad and Alya paddle them. It was cramped on the small boat but they made it. They called out for Sybil. She let them inside.

"Did you find Hugo?" Sybil asked. "My Wight Wolf."

"Wight?" Darian stuttered. "That explains it. You could've told us you meant he was undead."

"That's what I said," Sybil chided. "I told you the truth."

"Nevermind," Fiddle produced the pelt. "What's my future?"

"Excellent," Sybil took the pelt and Fiddle's palm. "You will live a short  life." 

The others laughed. Fiddle didn't get the joke. ?:?

The party asked to know more about the Barrows. The comings and goings of the various creatures. What the creatures were. The traps. Whatever they could to find the Sword of Truth, also known as the Sword of Lies or Light or whatever.

Two very large mounds were important. The one to the South end of the square was the supposed final resting place of a great Netherese Mage, Acererak. :eek  The one to the Southwest was that of Kersherec his right hand man. The necropolis and best guess for the Sword of Truth had another familiar name, Estelogoth Malkith. Sybil also mentioned a presence for good wandering the Barrows. The party could only guess it was the lost paladin, Kelerecent of Lathander.

Sully and Darian asked to have some items examined. Sybil needed to do some of her own magic. They returned to their horses. In the night the party heard activity in the Barrows. The paladin most likely. The next morning, Sybil gave Darian the command word to extinguish the flame. It had once belonged to the Captain of the Guard for Kersherec. The party left on a high note. Sybil told them to return when and not if they needed help.

Fiddle put his things in the first tomb the party had visited oh so many tendays ago.

"Lets try the tomb with the Fake Sword first," Alya suggested. "And then the necropolis or the one with the grinning skull. Kersherec's and Acererak's tombs of Horrors.  ."

"I think I heard all three were created by the same man at different editions of his life." Fiddle mentioned.


----------



## diaglo

*Return to the Tomb of Horrors*

Fiddle scouted ahead. Three chambers off a central corridor.

"Have you searched the place?" Fiddle asked.

"No, not exactly," Alya answered. "We were attacked by an allip. Here. And I stayed back to cover our retreat. Darian destroyed the creature and we grabbed the sword. We thought we had completed our quest."

"Have you ever heard of a dumby tomb?" Fiddle chided. "Come on, lets look around."

Sure enough within a few moments Fiddle found a secret panel. He checked it for traps. "Stand back," Fiddle ordered. He opened it. A tunnel. He spiked it open. Holding out his sword he crawled forward. The others followed. Fiddle checked for tracks, traps, and unusual seams, whatever. Who knew how old this tomb was. He came to a four way split. Ahead was a chamber. To the left and right more small tunnels. He tossed his coin into the chamber. Poof. The light went out.

"A hundred gold Lions," Fiddle Cursed. "Well at least I'm alive."

Darian brought his light forward. Fiddle tried the other tunnels. He guessed they led back to the other two chambers. And probably had hidden panels like the first. Sure enough. No other way around. Fiddle would have to cross the trap area of no magic. He retrieved his old sword. He stripped off his potions and Lightning Strike. He moved cautiously forward. Checking the floor. Tiles. Looked at the walls. A story of an epic battle. One figure stood out. He picked up his coin and proceeded forward. The light returned.

A Ten foot wide strip across the whole chamber. But why. Only by continuing would the party find out. Another corridor and a turn out of sight. The mural continued too. The new room was like a war consul chamber. A large table with several benches. The scene on the wall also depicted this tone. More figures rose up from the masses. But the central figure still remained the same. A pile of rags and possible bones lay on the far side of the chamber. Another corridor behind the pile.

Alya hummed. A small hand started playing with the pile. Nothing happened.

Fiddle sprinted forward. He leapt from floor to bench to tabletop. He danced a jig as he looked around from on high. His dismount was not as graceful. He sprawled next to the pile. Darian strolled to his side. Fiddle found 2 rings, 2 wands, a set of bracers, a cloak and a staff with a pearl on top. But none of it was magic. Plus the skeleton of the former owner. Vlad came over too. A red mist appeared down the unexplored corridor. It moved.

"I don't like this," Darian said. "That mist is almost other planar."

Fiddle, Vlad, Alya, and Sully had already run for the no magic zone. Darian ran to catch up.


----------



## biorph

*Ya know I didn't realize it before*

but there's enough K's in this place to choke a horse.

Acererak
Kersherec 
Malkith
Kelerecent


----------



## diaglo

*Critical Splat that didn't happen*

It was agreed Vlad and Fiddle would scout ahead. They removed the last of their magic. And lit a normal bullseye lantern. They walked by the mist without incident. And searched the corridor. Again the warrior on the walls fought his battles. At the end of the corridor was a last chamber. Inside a statue of a man holding a sword stood on a dias. At his feet were jewels and coins. The scene on the walls showed him being showered with wealth and appreciation. A victory or triumph. Fiddle drooled over the items from the doorway. Vlad entered the chamber. A figure with bad teeth and patchy skin stabbed out with a rapier just missing. Some form of undead. Fiddle hit the thing in the head with a vial of acid. Vlad ran. The thing stabbed at Fiddle. Fiddle ran. It ducked behind a corner. Vlad and Fiddle ran back to the others.

"We have to get around the mist first," Darian said.

"At least we know we are close," Alya hoped.

"Maybe," Fiddle answered.

The party tried several things to harm the mist. Normal weapons didn't seem to work. An enchanted arrow did. But when Sully got too close. He lost a spell, some charges from a wand and his cloak wavered. The thing grew. It fed on magic.

Sully pelted it with bolts of magic which at times caused it to shrink and when Darian aided with a summoning caused it to grow. The spells were flying but the party was no closer to their goal.

"We need to figure out its weaknesses," Fiddle stated the obvious.

"Baba Sybil had a set of bellows by her chimney," Alya mentioned.

"That's as good a start as any, " Fiddle agreed. "Anybody got a torch? Lets try fire on the thing."


----------



## diaglo

update to follow sometime this evening or tomorrow.

looks like Vlad, Darian, Alya, Fiddle and Sully will all be in the thick of things. starting with the nishruu.


----------



## diaglo

*Red misty morning haze*

The party gathered around the campfire. They would need to decide what to do about the red mist. And the no magic zone. And the undead rogue thing. And finally the statue with the sword.

"A nishruu," Darian said. "It took me all night but I finally remembered what that mist is called. It is a being from another plane. An outsider. They drain the world of magic."

"I could've told you that," Sully acknowledged. "But who would summon it and why? It seemed intelligent. Maybe we can reason with it. I speak Draconic and a few other languages."

"I speak a few languages also," Alya quipped. "But I haven't yet mastered the ability to speak all of them thru magic. What about a bellows? We borrow one from Sybil and draw off the mist bit by bit and expel it into the no magic zone."

"I still say we burn it," Fiddle humphed. "Gas evaporates in flame."

"Go ahead and try it then Fiddle," Darian nodded. "I think I have an idea, if you succeed."

So after resting and praying and gathering themselves for the day, the party plunged back into the tomb. Nothing had changed from the previous trip, nor had anything new appeared. Fiddle stripped off his magic and ran ahead with a torch. He encountered the mist. But it didn't seem to notice his presence.  So Fiddle waved the torch menacingly. This caused the mist to shift away. A definite reaction. Fiddle ran back and told the others.

"Great," Darian was elated. He drew his flaming sword and placed his other magic aside. "Come Fiddle lets end this."

"I'll aid you as best I can," Fiddle replied. "If the thing drains your blade at least the torch will provide light."

"I have an idea," Alya stepped forward. She hummed a tune. The sword vanished. "An extra spell will help keep the magic on the sword."

Darian and Fiddle fought the nishruu. It was a bout of parry, dodge, thrust, and scamper. Fiddle could only aid Darian by distracting the mist. The sword winked out once in the fight, but the torch held the mist at bay. Darian also summoned small fire elementals to help. The combination of magic, fire, and luck won the day. Darian's last blow caused the mist to burn black and disappear for good.  The sword went out again. But returned a few heart stopping moments later.

"Yes," Alya rounded the corner in preparation to sing a ballad of inspiration.

"You just missed the fun," Darian said. "I'm nearly spent today magic wise. You best heal us if and when the need arises."

Darian and Fiddle went and collected their other items. The party advanced to the statue room.


----------



## diaglo

*Curses or curst; Foiled or epeed again*

Fiddle tossed the torch into the room. It lit most of the statue, the coins, the gems, and the mural. But not the undead rogue.

"I think the area ahead is a no magic zone also," Fiddle thought out loud. He tossed his coin ahead. It blinked out. He picked it up and tossed it further. It winked out and back again. The back wall was now more visible. "The rogue is around somewhere so be careful."

The party moved into the room. Fiddle and Vlad in the lead. Darian and Alya followed. And Redd and Sully brought up the rear. Darian swept his lantern around into the remaining darkness.

Redd sneezed. Sully looked up as the creature lunged at him with dagger and rapier. Both too high. Sully jumped back and coated himself in magic. Fiddle entered the fracas. His attack deflected aside by the undead creature. 

"Foul creature Begone," Darian called on Lathander. The light poured forth. The creature was unaffected. Alya fired her bow. The arrow hit the wall. Vlad took up a position on the other side of Fiddle and struck the wall with his axe instead of the creature.

The creature moved away from Fiddle and Vlad very awkwardly. Vlad shocked it as it tried to roll passed.  It lunged for Sully. The rapier found its mark. Sully moved again. This time he tossed a handful of shiny dust at the creature. Fiddle landed a dagger thrust. Darian sprinkled blessed water. The creature sizzled and burned.  A light appeared in Alya's face as if she had an epiphany. She hummed a tune of healing. She reached out and touched the thing. It burned even more. Crumpled and fell apart. Vlad flexed.

Fiddle went to the pile of treasure as the others hovered over the corpse, detected for magic, and healed Sully. He pocketed some gems before Vlad and Alya appeared at his side. They gathered the coins; mostly coppers, some silver, and a few gold and the few gems Fiddle missed.

"There's no sword. Just a scabbard," Sully said. "Next time remind me to coat myself with magic ahead of time."

"Looks like the rapier fits the scabbard," Alya added. "I could use it."

"Hold on," Fiddle blurted. "Let me make sure it is safe."

Fiddle went to work on the statue. He searched each step of the Dias as he climbed. And then around the base of the statue. The legs, the torso, the neck, And then the buckle on the scabbard. And then he climbed on the statue and searched the head.

"Let me undo the thing," Alya grew impatient. "Did you find anything?"

"Watch and see," Fiddle tilted the head back and looked down into the neck. A grating sound was heard behind and a passage revealed. A puff of old air escaped from the corridor beyond. Fiddle climbed down and undid the buckle of the scabbard. He handed it to Alya. He then spiked the door.


----------



## diaglo

*Tarzan and Jane meet the Blob*

The corridor went beyond Fiddle's light. Darian stepped up with his lantern. 40' and it turned. Fiddle scouted ahead. Alya observed the walls for any inconsistencies. None were noted. At the bend Fiddle found a large pit.

"Let me check it out," Fiddle said. Fiddle began to hammer a spike into the ground 15' back from the pit and attach his rope.

"We can leap this," Darian noted. "It looks about 10 ft across."

"Speak for yourself," Sully hinted.

"Okay," Fiddle was ready. "I'll climb down into the pit and look for any goodies." Fiddle tossed 35' of rope down into the pit. He grabbed with one hand behind and one in front as he looped the rope around his waist. He would rappel down face first. He leapt off the edge and down. Darian stepped to the edge with his lantern. The first 10' were no problem. Suddenly the  remaining 25' or 3 lbs of rope were weightless. As if they no longer existed. Fiddle saw something move. He reversed momentum and ran back up the rope. Darian reacted. He too saw the movement.

"SOmething coming," Fiddle screamed.

Fiddle and Darian just made it clear of the pit as a cubic glob of fluid slid up the pit. They ran.

"It's a cube," Alya said. She fired an arrow into the mass. The shaft dissolved. The arrow head floated. She ran. Vlad too fired into the creature and ran. Sully picked up Redd with one hand and ran.

"How do we stop it?" Fiddle yelled as he ran. He pulled out his bow.

Darian called for help from Lathander. "At least it is slow." A brief flash of light and then a hiss soon followed.

Everyone was in the statue room again. Alya, Vlad and Fiddle fired arrows. Sully waited. When the creature entered the room, he called forth his magic balls. The gelatin became goo and burst on the floor.

"I think it's dead," Fiddle poked at it with his dagger. "Does anyone have any rope? The cube ate mine. My silk rope. That was 10gp and the most useful piece of equipment I had."

"I've got a hemp rope," Darian answered. "I do still right, Fiddle?"

"I can fly us across Fiddle," Sully remarked. Fiddle smiled.

"I'll jump it," Darian said matter-of-factly. Vlad nodded too.

"Attach a rope Sully and I'll swing across," Alya thought.

Fiddle crossed with Sully. He guarded the other side. Sully hammered a spike into the ceiling and tied the rope. Alya grabbed hold and swung. She landed in the pit with the rope. The spike just missed her head.  Sully recovered the rope and Alya climbed up. Her dignity almost intact. Darian and Vlad secured the rope on their side as Fiddle and Alya did on the other. They crossed over without incident.

Fiddle scouted ahead. The party found a cavern with a float ball of eyes. Fiddle fired an arrow into the thing. It exploded. The cavern contained a pit of bubbling tar and a slick bridge. Alya used some magic to clean the bridge.


----------



## diaglo

*Liches*

*"Who dares to distrub the tomb of the great Kersherec?"* a large bony warrior with a sharp halberd shouted.

"We are the Stormslayers," Fiddle answered. "Who wants to know?"

"I am Ivan," he replied, "the Right Hand of Kersherec. Cursed to guard his tomb until I have been freed."

"He's a Lich," Darian remarked. "Cursed did you say? We are seeking the sword you guard. The Greatsword your master wielded. The Sword of Truth also known as the Sword of Lies."

"I don't know this sword," Ivan flexed.

"Why are you cursed?" Fiddle asked. "And how do we free you?"

"I made a pact with my master's chief rival," Ivan told his tale, "the wizard advisor Amarak, to help him gain the favor of King Acerarec. I slew my master. But as a last laugh I was cursed.  Only when Amarak's tomb has been plundered and his spellbooks thrown into the tar pit will I be free."

"We'll think about it. Shake on it," Fiddle advanced. Ivan flexed.

"Okay lets go," Alya called out.

The party left. On the way to the surface they talked about what to do next. Sybil should know. The party would tell her about the undead rogue and guardian. Maybe she would know more about the story Ivan told.

"She's a Lich," Darian remarked again. "Or soon will be. I'll ask Lathander for guidance."

"Great toss your bones," Sully chuckled. "I'm wondering if signs will say Yes. Or Try again will come up on your magic 8 bones."

"Weal and Woe," Darian gasped. "Let us find the Elf Lich."

The mist had returned but Fiddle found the trail. Sybil was not at home. Her tracks led to the West. She had paused near a newly excavated tomb. The smell of wet animals wafted from the entrance. Fiddle made note of the place. And checked for tracks and traps.

An hour later the party found the frail elf. Sybil gathered herbs and fungi from a strange garden.

"Beware the banes of Eslathagos Malkith," she blurted.

Alya told Ivan's tale. And showed off her new rapier. Sybil filled in a few more pieces of the story. She told them what she knew of beings like Ivan and the rogue. As well as the location of Amarak's tomb. And his possible form still being present. The newly opened animal smelling one.

"He's a Lich," Darian guessed.

"You think everything is a Lich," Vlad smirked.

Fiddle asked about Kalerecent of Lathander. Sybil said the presence of good still existed nearby.

"So I guess we plunder the wizard's tomb?" Alya noted. "We can then visit Ivan with the books. If he tries to renege on his word we kill him. If we can." She looked at her new rapier. "I hope this isn't cursed still."


----------



## diaglo

*Them*

"Hold on a second," Sully paused. He covered himself in magic. "Okay, that's better."

Amarak's tomb had been assaulted by the orcs, ogres, and other humanoids in league with the Moandites. Or at least that is what the party surmised from information Sybil provided. Humans too had tried to enter. But their failure was still evident on the battlefield. The victors, the humanoids, had done a nasty job of hacking, slashing, and clawing their way inside the tomb. After 20' or so a rough tunnel dropped out of sight. A thick rope was secured and dangled down into the darkness, perhaps 40' to the bottom. The party climbed down into the tomb.

They stood in a proper room. An antechamber. The only exit opened into a corridor. A set of stairs rose gradually in the corridor. Two rough tunnels ruined the walls. One on either side. The main corridor continued. The tunnels were smaller than the entryway tunnel and showed signs of some different tool. Fiddle examined the markings. He led the way into the tunnel on the right.

"Right hand rule?" Sully asked.

"That's the plan," Fiddle responded.

The party trekked into the passage. Every time the passage split, they went right. Several times they came to dead ends. Someone or something had deliberately blocked the passage with a boulder. Fiddle rounded the next corner. He looked up to see a field of fungi.

WWWWWWwwwwaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhHHHhh

Two toadstools Fiddle's size screamed an alarm. Fiddle and the rest ran back to the main corridor.

"What do we do now?" Darian asked. "If they summoned some guards there is no way we can climb out of here without exposing ourselves. And we don't know how many of the humanoids are down here."

The party began to debate. Fiddle and Vlad looked around while on guard. When nothing came, Fiddle chose the other tunnel. He made it 10' into the tunnel when something grabbed him. A large insectoid with acid dripping off its jaws. Sully followed and fired his magic balls. Alya began to sing. She coated Fiddle in grease. Fiddle still couldn't break free. The creature retreated with Fiddle into a larger chamber. Vlad and Darian brought up the rear.

Sully tossed 3 more balls of magic. Alya buried an arrow into the creature's abdomen. It dropped. Fiddle tumbled free drawing his blades. Another creature spit a stream of acid at Fiddle, Alya, and Sully. Fiddle avoided the mess. A third insect attacked Vlad and Darian. A fourth could be seen in the original corridor, but it wouldn't fit with the mass of bodies. It disappeared to the left. Vlad and Darian retaliated.

Sully fired off another series of magic balls. Alya healed Fiddle all the way back to normal. He leapt into close combat with the insect. His dagger found a weakness. The insects attacked back. Fiddle parried the bite. Vlad and Darian tried again to bring down the rearguard. Its carapace was too tough.

Sully kept up the magic assault. Alya went to Vlad's aid. Fiddle brought down the insect with Lightning Strike. He heard a scraping sound to the side.

"Something's moving over there," Fiddle yelled to Sully.

The last visible insect spit acid at Vlad and Alya. Sully had just enough protect from the tunnel. And Darian was on the other side of the insect's head. Vlad and Darian swung again. The fourth insect crashed thru the wall behind Vlad.

Sully collected himself. He tried to find a way to help. Fiddle charged opposite Vlad and landed a savage blow. Alya fired an arrow over Fiddle's head into the creature. The insects attacked Vlad and Darian. Vlad broke the hold. Darian stepped forward and bashed the new attacker with his mace. Sully saw his chance. He fired one magic ball at the new very hurt insect. It collapsed. And the remaining two balls struck the last insect. Vlad ended the fight.


----------



## diaglo

*Don't mock the happy fun cleric*

"I hope there aren't any more," Sully said. "I'm out of my offensive spells. Unless I refocus some of my stronger magic."

Alya and Darian ran around healing the party and themselves. 

"Ankhegs," Fiddle told everyone. "I think we can guess why we haven't seen the humanoids."

Sully, Darian, and Alya couldn't decide if they should leave or stay. Fiddle chose the new tunnel to scout ahead. He didn't go far when he found a stash of old weapons and armor. Too much to check and Fiddle had to leave marks for a quick retreat just in case.

"Where'd he go?" Darian asked.

"I'll get him," Vlad said.

The others soon caught up to Fiddle. He was staring into a large burial chamber. More like a catacomb. The bones of many dead lined the walls. Fiddle strode into the room. Vlad entered right behind him. The bones stirred.

"Liches," Vlad laughed. Fiddle, Sully, Redd, and Alya joined in.

Darian's face darkened. He didn't see the humor. He adjusted his lantern so everyone could see better, but refused to reach for his holy symbol. "Fine. You handle them."

"Back into the tunnel," Fiddle scurried back. One of the skeletons scratched him as he passed by.

"We will fight them one at a time in the tunnel," Vlad agreed. He repositioned at the entrance and hit one of the skeletons with his axe. Nine of the undead advanced.

Sully and Alya looked to Darian again.

"It isn't nice to mock the Priest when we are in a tomb," Darian schooled. He pulled out his holy symbol finally. "Begone."  The mass of skeletons crumpled.

"My guess is there is a similar chamber across the corridor," Fiddle surmised. "This place was too uniform before the ankhegs and humanoids ruined it. There is a passage over there."


----------



## biorph

*trailer*

hey Diaglo, I don't know if you've seen the Story Hour Trailer thread, but I'd love to see what you came up with as a trailer for our group.

oh BTW 400th post, YAY me.


----------



## diaglo

*Block party or blockhead. you decide*

The proper passage out of the catacombs led to a dead end. The block wall ahead was of a different stone. Fiddle examined it more closely. It was meant to be pushed. But if you chose the wrong way it would collapse. Fiddle found the right spot to press and a way to reset the trap if he so desired. He just wanted to go around it. So he opened the wall and spiked it. An intersection. Three similar blocks faced the party. Fiddle examined the block on the left. A pounding noise was heard and felt underfoot from that direction. Fiddle had similar luck with this trap. He again spiked it open.  An open pit lay ahead in the passageway. A strange magical creature was in the pit. It or he pounded away at the walls. Whether it was trying to escape or continue building the pit was unclear. Fiddle chose the next block in a clockwise fashion in the intersection. He had barely started his probe when it collapsed on him. This passage was similar to the one from the catacombs.

"Ouch," Fiddle complained. "I expect our skeleton friends ahead won't like this."

"Here let me see to your boo boo," Alya healed him.

A deep gravelly voice called out from the corridor with the second spiked block and pit. Everyone turned to see an Ogre across the pit. No one understood what he was saying. The party drew their weapons. The Ogre ducked out of view.

"Well we found the humanoids," Vlad stated. "Hopefully he is the only one and hasn't gone to get help."

Fiddle went back to examining the last block. He wasn't sure exactly where to push. The others also tried to figure it out. But no luck.

"Here goes nothing," Fiddle warned.  "Everyone stand clear."

He almost guessed correctly. Unfortunately, the block still clipped him. Darian healed his bruises with the wand. This passage was blocked by a real heavy stone. It was sealed and not just another trap. Someone meant to keep things out.

"Since the Ogre hasn't returned should we go visit the skeletons?" Fiddle asked.

"As good a place as any," Sully agreed.

"Maybe they are liches?" Alya joked. "Just kidding."

Darian's brow furrowed. "I'll remember that. Come on Fiddle lets get this done."


----------



## diaglo

*Static monsters; how do they cling in a 10x10*

Fiddle and Darian advanced into the suspected catacombs. Darian's light shone to the back wall. And Fiddle was proven correct. It was a catacomb. But skeletons weren't the occupants. Orcs. And they had just finished strapping on their gear and drawing their weapons. Seven carried battle axes and three used long spears.

"Oops," Fiddle yelled. "Orcs."

Alya reacted first. She covered the area in front of Fiddle and Darian with a layer of grease. Fiddle flung a dagger. It grazed one of the bigger orcs. Darian called on Lathander's might to protect him. Sully followed suit with a handful of powder. Several of the orcs were blinded. Those not tried to cross the grease. Two succeeded. Two did not. They landed in a tangle of legs. Vlad fired an arrow into the room.

Alya sang another tune. Fiddle disappeared. Only to reappear a second later. He thrust at the two orcs in front of him. Darian swung his sword again. One orc fell. Sully tried again. This time the close quarters made his spell much more effective. Several more orcs were blinded. The remaining sighted orc struck Darian. A loud boom was heard. And the Ogre reappeared. Vlad moved into battle with his axe. The Ogre swatted him as he closed.

"A little help here," Vlad called back as he shocked the Ogre.

Alya healed Vlad some. Fiddle finished the orc. Darian charged the Ogre. His shield bounced off the Ogre's thick hide. Sully repositioned. The area around one of the big orcs had Fiddle's voice.

"I've slain your friends and now it's your turn," the voice imitated.

The blind orcs converged on the sound. They struck each other. The Ogre attacked Darian. Another Ogre leapt the pit. Vlad used Darian's help to strike a nasty blow. The first Ogre collapsed.

Alya fired an arrow into the orc battle. Fiddle attacked the new Ogre from the sly. Lightning Strike bit home. Darian peeled off from the Ogre and attacked one of the orcs in the grease. The orcs moved away from each other. The Ogre took a swing at Fiddle. Vlad struck it from behind. The second Ogre was down. A new foe entered the scene. He was as large as the Ogres. But very different. He was rubbery in appearance a long nose, nasty looking hands, and warts. He was also very powerfully built. And there were still 6 blind orcs.

Alya fired another arrow this one at the green Ogre. The arrow sunk in, but the wound began to close almost immediately. Fiddle attacked the green creature. His strike too started to heal.

"Troll," Darian moved forward with his flaming sword.

The troll swatted him as he closed. Darian's strike was more effective. Sully pulled out his sling. He flung a stone into one of the orcs.  Sully's first combat strike was a success.  The orcs milled about. The Troll struck Vlad and then backed away from Darian's sword. Vlad moved away and downed a potion.

Alya fired into the orcs. Another went down. Fiddle attacked the grease pile killing another. The grease would soon be gone. The orcs would also regain their sight soon. Darian moved back from the troll and healed himself with the wand. Sully used his last spell to blind the orcs again. The Troll hovered out of sight. Vlad prepared for the worst.

Alya fired into the orcs. Fiddle charged back to the Troll battle. He pulled out his vial of acid and flung it into the darkness. Darian held his flaming sword out at the ready trying to entice the Troll. Sully flung a stone at the orcs. It hit the back wall. The Troll took the bait.  He attacked Darian with a fervor. The Troll grabbed Darian with both hands, picked him up like a rag doll, and pulled the priest apart. He dropped Darian. Vlad attacked the Troll from behind.

Alya fired into the orcs. Another fell, three remained. Fiddle thought back to the times he had seen Richter use the whip. Fiddle had no experience with the thing, but he knew he couldn't get to the flaming sword without joining Darian. Fiddle made up his mind. He lashed out for the sword hilt. Luck was with him. He retracted the whip and held the flaming sword two handed. It was nearly as tall as he. Lucky for Darian Lathander was with him. The priest's wounds stopped bleeding. Sully tried again to hit an orc. This one careened to the left. The troll advanced on Fiddle. YiKes. One heavy hand knocked the hin to the side. Vlad shocked the troll from behind.

Alya fired into the troll. Fiddle tumbled to the Troll's side. He swung the sword for all he was worth. It bit very deeply. A stream of dark green blood coated Fiddle. The Troll fell in two parts. They started to reform. Both were still active. Darian stopped bleeding. He was just sleeping now. 

"A little help," Sully called. "We still have 3 orcs and my spell is about to quit."

The orcs moved towards Sully's voice. Sully pulled a flask of oil from off of Darian. The Troll took two swings at Fiddle. Neither were close. Vlad struck from behind. He blow just as effective as Fiddle's. He split the top half of the Troll in two from head to waist. The Troll was dead. Sorta. It began to reform but very slowly. Vlad pulled out some oil.

Alya healed Darian. Fiddle charged into the orcs. He chopped one down. Darian pulled a flask of his own. Sully lit some of the Troll on fire. The two remaining orcs closed with Fiddle. They could see again. One wounded Fiddle. Vlad burned the Troll.

"Fiddle get over here with that sword," Alya screamed. She moved to Fiddle's aid. She fired an arrow into one of the orcs. Fiddle chopped down the orc who had injured him and stayed as a guard for Alya. Darian burned the Troll. So did Sully and Vlad. The last orc bashed Fiddle.

Alya switched weapons. She dropped her bow and attacked with the new rapier. Fiddle peeled back and attacked the Troll parts with the flaming sword. Sully, Darian , and Vlad attacked the Troll part too. They continued to burn. The orc sliced Alya.

Alya again attacked the orc. That battle was an even exchange. The others hacked and burned the Troll. The troll was very resilient.  Eventually the orc fell and the Troll was turned to ash.


----------



## diaglo

Our first full 3.11ed for workgroups session is today. update to follow this evening.

the party retreated to Sybil's domicile.


----------



## diaglo

*Space ghost to the rescue*

The party crawled out of Amarak's tomb. A trail of fresh blood marked their passing. Nary a one of them was fit to handle a lone orc much less the traps, magic, constructs, and possible hordes of humanoids still down in the tomb. Besides, the spellcasters were low on magic. Darian, Alya, and Sully had exhausted their available spells for the day. Fiddle and Vlad could barely walk. They rested, healed, tended their arms and armor, and all the other things adventurers do when not getting into trouble. Fiddle babbled on and on about what he was going to do next.

"You don't suppose," Alya interrupted, "you could give us time to think? I'm half convinced Darian's fears about liches are not unfounded. Of course, other undead come to mind. Carl mentioned the death of their cleric to a wraith. That would mean one tomb here has at least two wraiths now. Or what about a mummy or ghost or spectre?"

"I'll see what I can do," Darian promised. "Lathander is with me."

"I sure hope so," Sully added. "We are here on a matter of faith."

After recovering the party again left their campsite and horses and plunged down into Amarak's tomb. The large rope was gone. And the tracks of several humanoids, possibly orcs by Fiddle's reckoning, led away from the spot. Fiddle broke out the climbing kit. Darian made sure it was secure.

"You scout ahead Fiddle," Alya advised. "I'll make it so you vanish for 6 minutes."

"Six minutes, six minutes, six minutes, Dougie Fresh you're on," A song popped into Fiddle's head as he descended. It helped him keep track of his time. Fiddle followed the tracks. Three orcs. They returned to the old room according to his guess.

"All's clear," Fiddle yelled back to the others from the bottom of the rope.

Sully fluttered down in pixie form. Darian, Alya, and Vlad made it down in succession.

"If you see a lizardlike creature where I formerly stood don't attack," Alya told everyone. "I've gained a few spells and I'm afraid they might surprise you. Let's get the shriekers first. They were guarding something."

"I agree," Sully nodded. "Can you silence the area, Darian?"

"How about an arrow?" Fiddle chirped. "Alya can shoot one of them and we will finish them before the spell wears off."

"Okay," Darian accepted the responsibility.

The party traveled back to the shrieker lair.


----------



## diaglo

*Silence is golden*

Alya fired her arrow. It struck one of the fungi true. But no sound was heard. Fiddle followed the arrow blades a whirling. Three larger fungi shot out tendrils in reaction to the movement. The front two pulsed but did little else. Fiddle, Vlad, Darian, Alya, and Sully soon made quick work of the things. But not before Fiddle was scratched. His strength left him for a moment. Darian called on Lathander to restore the energy.

The party dug around the mounds. A dead orc half covered in fungi was their only treasure. A passage led away from the chamber. Fiddle plowed ahead. More large puffball like fungi. These had red spots on a yellow cap. Sully noted they were poisonous but otherwise harmless. The party continued further. The next chamber was filled with a small pond. A layer of green floated on top. Green slime. The party avoided this too. And then they were back to the constructed tomb.

"Well at least the orcs have only one way in or out," Fiddle surmised. "Are we ready for this?"

"Aye," Vlad smiled.

The party cautiously made their way back to the orc lair. The two block traps were closed again. Fiddle opened them. Darian aimed his lantern into the orc lair.

"I don't see them," Alya remarked.

Fiddle crawled forward to the pit to see if the golem was still there. Two arrows whistled in from the corridor. One struck Alya. Darian spun his lantern to the North. Fiddle ran into the Orc lair. Redd followed him.

"Redd keep an eye on Fiddle. I've got this," Sully crackled. Or more like his hands crackled. A blinding flash was seen down the corridor and a boom followed.

No more arrows. Vlad leapt the pit. Alya covered him with her bow as she healed her wound.

Another crackle was heard. This one traveled in a line down the corridor. Vlad ducked aside. Sully almost made it, but felt some of the effects.

"Zoinks!!!! Spellcaster," Darian shouted. "Scooby-Fiddle where are you?"

Fiddle rounded the Orc lair and did a cursory scan. It was much bigger than he expected but unoccupied. Redd relayed this back to Sully. Sully fired off another ball of lightning. (6d6 for 7hp before save) The Orc laughed. (So did everyone at the table) Darian called on Lathander's might. Alya fired an arrow into the dark. A barrier partially protected the Orc. Before Vlad could react another combatant joined the fray. A two headed Giant with multiple appendages. A maniacal sound escaped the smaller head's lips. It was a goblin riding the Ogre in a harness. Three bolts of magic struck Sully.

"A little help," Vlad called out. He fired an arrow at the goblin.

Fiddle ran back to the fight. Sully returned fire. Three bolts of magic crossed the distance. Darian fired his crossbow at the goblin. Alya concentrated on the Orc. The Orc spellcaster tried another lightning spell. Alya and Darian felt a little of the effects. The Ogre struck Vlad. Vlad returned the favor. The goblin fired a crossbow.  The quarrel just bounced off Lathander's protective magic covering Darian.

Fiddle rounded the corner and leapt over the pit. Sully launched another burst of lightning. The Ogre, Orc and goblin all collapsed.

"Do you think you could get that a little closer next time," Vlad yelled back. His hair stood on end.


----------



## diaglo

*oo, oo, it's magic*

Fiddle started to search the bodies. Vlad kept an eye on him. The first thing Fiddle grabbed was a backpack off of the goblin. He reached inside. His whole arm went in. He felt something and pulled. A mirror. A 2' X 3' mirror. and then another one. and then....

"It's magic," Alya said over his shoulder.

"No duh," Fiddle replied.  He continued to empty out the contents. What a haul. The party also recovered a spellbook, though not the one they were looking for; a magical box; a magic dagger;  a potion of invisibility; and 2 scrolls, exped retreat and dispel magic. 

Fiddle hurled the dagger into the Ogre. "To me," he called. "Nope, not the kind I was hoping for, but useful nonetheless."

As Alya was examining the scrolls, Fiddle opened the box. Nothing inside. The hin poked his dagger at the interior. It swallowed his hand and began to draw him inside.

"Crap," Alya shouted. "There goes this scroll."

"Well maybe not," Darian started to joke.

But Alya completed the reading. The box spit Fiddle back out.

"Again," Fiddle screamed with glee. "Let me do it again. I saw a whole new world. It was all dark and there was a light at the end of the tunnel."

Vlad slapped the hin on the back of the head. Fiddle fed the box the dead goblin. After its meal the magic faded from the box. The party searched a couple nearby rooms. The Ogre's and Troll's dens.

"Now what?" Alya asked. She was as puzzled as the rest.

Fiddle found a secret door. "Viola!"


----------



## diaglo

*That's what they all say*

"We go this way," Sully smiled. "That is until we can't go anymore and then we run back to Sybil's hut."

Fiddle checked the door and then opened it. A large chamber with a behemoth of a statue faced the party. They did a scan before entering. Air themes on the walls and ceiling. Two doors on the far wall. Fiddle entered. The statue charged. It launched Fiddle high into the air. The others ran back to the pit. Fiddle hurried to catch up. The statue tossed him again. Fiddle was down and out. He bled internally. Alya approached to recover his body...



(I was unconscious, but some other stuff happened.)

Fiddle awoke on Alya's shoulder. He scrambled down drawing his new magical dagger, Hole Punch, and Lightning Strike. Darian bled from a grievous wound. An orc lay at his feet. Vlad too was in bad shape. Another orc nearby. And a very mean looking but skilled near naked warrior with Great Axe howled. Fiddle tumbled into the battle. The statue stood just out of range. It hadn't crossed the threshold to engage the party in the corridor. Two side passages were ajar. Hole Punch found a spot. Vlad countered with his shocking axe.

"You fight bravely," the Orc commended. "But you shall die by Gristlegape's axe."

A few seconds later Gristlegape lay at Fiddle's feet. "That's what they all say."

Alya and Darian healed the party. They found some more items of magic and value in the nearby chambers and on the corpses. Gristlegape's bodyguards were female.

"Lets ask Sybil about these items and the golems," Alya suggested. "So far we have only one choice left to us. The golem."

Fiddle had just started to wander in another direction when the others left him. He tried inserting a false gem into Pazuzu's mouth. He threw his hands up and ran back to the others.


----------



## diaglo

*I attack/search the Darkness*

"I think I know another way," Fiddle whispered to Sully when he caught back up. "But it can wait. I mean no one else has found it in 1000 years."

Sybil was ambivalent about the party's return. She was happy to have company. But tired of the interruptions. She was also unable to provide any new information. The party knew as much as she about the tomb. Although, she was able to decipher the spellbook. A crude Orc shaman's book. Nothing inside she couldn't do already.  PJulak the Ripe.

The party rested and recovered their spells back at their campsite.

"Once more into the breach," Fiddle called out as he descended. "And this time I'm not coming back until I find what I'm looking for." No new tracks. The humanoids would trouble them no more presumably.

Fiddle led everyone in a new direction. Into the Orc Lair. He was the only one to have gone completely inside...well besides Redd.  A quick search turned up a hidden panel. And a new tunnel.

"The golem can wait," Fiddle bluffed. He had no intention of tangling with that thing again. He moved ahead. after winding around a little they reached a dead end.

"Lets search this whole thing," Sully suggested. "We've got nothing to lose."

After a couple hours they were rewarded. Another secret door. A humble crypt of a wizard. Inside was a sarcophagus.  Alya, Darian, and Vlad opened the lid. Inside it contained an ancient body. A mage hand or two emptied the contents.  Some valuables and some magic, but not enough for the party's trouble and still no spellbook.

"This ain't it," Fiddle said. Everyone agreed. He found another secret door. "Bingo."

This tunnel led to another interesting room. The western wall of the chamber was a swirling vortex. Darian tossed his socks tied to a rope. They accelerated into oblivion before the rope snapped.

Two angry vortices advanced on the party.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

I was wondering when we'd get the update.  Hardly catches the "secret door paranoia" from around the table, though.


----------



## biorph

bah, that's nothing next to nothing compared to the secret door email paranoia after the session.


----------



## JoeBlank

*Re: Silence is golden*



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> * Sully fired off another ball of lightning. (6d6 for 7hp before save) The Orc laughed. (So did everyone at the table)  *




Hopefully, Fiddle will recall that the law of averages evened things up on another scintillating sphere attack later in the game.

Aside: Figuring my six-sided-dice-rolling luck was focused on another game, I tried some Yahtzee with the family the next day, but that did not work.


----------



## diaglo

They were called not summoned creatures, as Darian soon found out.  So Sully launched his ball of lightning into the room. Vlad and Fiddle battled the elementals with their weapons. A few agonizing but brief moments later the elementals vanished. Conversation had to be louder near the vortex.

"Now what?" Alya again asked. "Do we battle the golem?"

"For one of the longest lived races you sure are impatient," Darian noted.

Fiddle found another secret door back down the corridor. "And not as observant as the rest of your kind."

"She's a lover not a fighter," Vlad quipped.

"I did not sleep with the whole garrison at Castle Krag," Alya defended herself. "None of you know what I did."

"Come now lets try this new door," Sully broke the tension.

Everyone's ears popped at the pressure equalized. There was a distinct roar coming from the new corridor. The tunnel abruptly ended. Fiddle found yet another door. Again the pressure equalized. The din grew. Even the vortex wasn't this loud. Another dead end. Fiddle found another door. This opened into a hurricane. The platform around the door was stable, but just a few inches away the wind begged for something to carry. Darian obliged. He tossed a stone. It was gone faster than the thought could register. Across the gap was a stairway leading into a chamber. The light didn't go far enough.

"What do we do now?" Alya yelled. No one heard her.

Sully pulled a scroll from his pouch. One they had found in the tomb. It had a very powerful spell. He may or may not be able to cast it. He mimed his actions and intent. The party gathered round.

"I'm not going over there," Fiddle declared. "Unless we know we have a way back."

"I agree," Sully nodded. "I think I can cast this Dimensional Door, but it is a one way trip."

"Darian," Alya suggested, "why don't you ask Lathander."

Darian bent and prayed. "Weal," he called out moments later. "I'll go alone if you don't want to risk it."

"We are in this together," Sully looked around. "But I will feel the fool if we don't make it back."

"How much does everyone weigh?" Fiddle asked. "I need to know how much food I'll have if it comes to that. Sully I'll kill you last."   (Come on the Commando reference had to come in eventually)

_Blink_ They stood  in the chamber. Everyone was slightly disoriented almost nauseous. An invisible hand struck Vlad with such force he nearly doubled over. Fiddle attacked the air. He stepped backwards and froze in place on the stairway. The stairs were coated in some very powerful sticky substance. The noise in the chamber was not too strong.

Sully tossed a handful of powder up and mumbled an arcane phrase. A thing appeared. It wasn't human or even real, but it was visible. It took the form of now visible stalker. The party went to work. Alya sang.  Darian and Vlad activated their weapons. The creature attacked Sully. 

Fiddle undid his shoes and tumbled into combat. Sully ducked aside and cast another glittery handful of dust. The creature froze. One, two, one, two, the party laid into the thing. Sully hit it with a ball of lightning that would've knocked its socks off. (34 out of 36) It vanished to its home plane.

All the casters detected for magic. The hurricane was of course very magical. So were a lot of other things...


----------



## diaglo

*The long and winding road..*

Wands, potions, rings, weapons, jewels...the whole place reeked of magic. Fiddle checked for traps and secret compartments. He missed the lines on the inside. As he reached inside an excruciating pain took hold of his body. Fiddle writhed around. The party quickly divvied it up the items.

They also found what they came for. Two spellbooks.

"Hopefully, we will find a spell to get us home," Sully prayed.

Alya opened the books and began to read. "Not in this one. It is mostly spells we can already cast."

"Well somebody made that scroll that got us here," Darian said. "My guess is that spell is in the other book."

Alya opened the next book.

BBBBooooOOOOMMMM

She passed out from the explosion. Darian brought her back around. The party healed. And Alya tried again. Many of the pages were destroyed. But the party's luck held.

Sully cast the spell from the book and returned them to the other side of the tomb.

"Home?" Alya asked.

"No," Sully replied. "I didn't take that leap of faith without following thru. I say we visit Ivan and destroy the books."

"We will see," Darian responded mysteriously.

Fiddle still hurt inside. The _pain_ made concentration impossible. But he did keep up with the others.


----------



## diaglo

*Ranger Calrom to the rescue*

“Halt!” a voice called out from the distance. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want to shoot you.”

“Who are you?” Fiddle asked the voice.

“Who are you?” the voice called back.

A figure was now clearly visible in the mist. A slight human dressed in greens and browns. He looked more at home in the forest than here in the Barrows. He had a bow with two arrows trained on the party. Obviously, a ranger.

“We are adventurers,” Sully replied. “Seeking our fortune.”

“We are *so* not in the mood for this,” Alya added.

As if on cue, Fiddle grabbed his sides in _pain_.

“Perhaps you could lower the bow and we could talk,” Darian offered. “We mean you no harm. I am Darian Dawnguard, priest of Lathander.”

“Calrom Nathos,” the ranger stated. “I’m an adventurer, too. Why are you here.”

Introduction went around as the party made their way out of the Barrows. Before they got too far into the history of their quest, trouble struck. The horses were gone and the camp was ransacked.

“I saw that on the way into the Barrows,” Calrom mentioned. “That’s why I was on my guard.”

Fiddle scrambled around on all fours rummaging thru the mess. “NNNNNOOOOO. They took everything.”

A trail of blood, hoof, and claw prints went south. Another trail of blood went north. Several small humanoids followed the horses north.

“Perhaps,” Calrom continued. “I can help you track them. Which way first?”


----------



## diaglo

*a horse with no name....Bob*

The party followed the claw and hoof prints. The blood on the trail got thicker. They discovered the first dead horse. Alya's old grey mare. Some predator had torn the horse's throat and disemboweled the torso. 

"Well at least we have food for tonight," Fiddle looked on the bright side.

"OoooOoo," Calrom squirmed. "None for me, thanks. How could you? It was a companion of yours."

"I've got a wonderful recipe," Sully added. "It will taste like steak."

Calrom turned greener than his clothes before heading  down the trail. The party followed.

"What has claws and hooves?" Fiddle asked. "Maybe it flies too and has a fondness for horseflesh."

Calrom thought about it for a long moment, "I've got no clue."

No one else seemed to know either. After another 100 yards they found Sully and Darian's steeds. Someone or something had cut their throats with a blade before ripping the innards out. The tracks skirted back to the Barrows at a fast pace. The party continued to track. Soon they were back at camp.

"Shall we go after the other horses?" Alya asked. "Where's Bob?"

"Bob?" Calrom asked.

"My horse," Fiddle answered.

"It isn't like Fiddle is more attached to his animal than the rest of us," Sully mentioned. "He names all his horses Bob"

Four to six goblins had given chase to Bob and Vlad's horse. A few broken arrows and a small trail of blood mingled with their boot prints. Vlad's roan had 4 arrows embedded in its carcass. There was no sign of Bob.

Calrom summoned a hawk. His companion. He sent it after Bob. Soon he was only a speck in the sky. He circled several times and came back.

"Bob got away," Darian surmised.

"Of course he did," Fiddle beamed. "I taught him well."


----------



## diaglo

*A ranger's tale*

"Now where?" Calrom queried. "I can find us some shelter for the night"

"Good idea," Darian agreed. "None of us are prepared for a difficult fight. The goblins we can handle. But who knows what the other things are."

On cue Fiddle groaned in _pain_. Everyone agreed to rest and recuperate. The party invited Calrom to tell his tale. (I'll leave this story for howandwhy99 to add)



Later, Sully whispered to Fiddle. "I don't think our new friend should be on watch alone," he said. "Our camp was sacked and we already know several organized groups are about. Namely the Zhents and the Moandites. I'll take first watch with him."

"Wake me if there is any trouble and you can," Fiddle nodded.


----------



## diaglo

*Unknown spellcaster*

The morning saw the party back to normal. (Something happened in the night, but only Sully and Calrom know about it) 

"Some fresh stew?" Sully asked Calrom. 

"No thanks," Calrom replied "I like my horse alive. I think I'll have fox instead." 

"Alive?" Fiddle thought to himself "Eating live horseflesh is a bit strange." 

The party picked up the day-old trail. It went back into the Barrows. The day saw less mist. The trail was easy to follow with Fiddle and Calrom aiding one another. 

"Perhaps you should lead," Calrom suggested. "You seem to be quite good at this." He froze and quickly nocked two arrows. "Spellcaster." 

Everyone else drew weapons and prepared for battle. 

"Wher. . ." Alya started to say. 

Twang. Thud. 

Faster than anyone else could think Calrom had fired two arrows. A body lay sprawled with the arrows in its eye sockets.  A Zhent, but not a very troublesome fellow. His armor and appearance was ragged. Four large evil looking obelisks loomed over the body. 

"We haven't gone this far into the Barrows," Fiddle remarked. He moved  ahead and searched the corpse. "He's dead alright." Fiddle dumped a dirty pouch. Bugs and bits of rodent fur spilled on the ground. "And he didn't even have the decency to have any gold. He doesn't look like a spellcaster." 

"Well we can't ask him now," Alya chuckled. 

"I was attacked," Calrom got defensive. "Someone cast  a spell at me." 

Darian said a blessing over the dead Zhent.


----------



## diaglo

*the day below*

"The tracks lead here," Calrom stated. "And someone was kind enough to dig us an entrance."

The party stood almost at the end of the Barrows. Three similar very large mounds were nearby. King Acerarak's tomb was just beyond them.

The tunnel entrance was rough, but stable. Fiddle and Vlad checked just to make sure. Calrom sent his hawk away.

"All's clear," Fiddle said.

He snuck ahead, followed by Vlad, Calrom, Darian, Alya, and finally Sully and Redd. The tunnel  gradually descended. Fiddle guessed 50ft underground. And then a sharp right. Fiddle searched the wall. Solid rock. Almost too solid. Magic maybe.

"Aha," Fiddle guessed. "The tomb. These guys couldn't penetrate here so they went around."

Fiddle traveled another 60ft before the tunnel opened into a chamber. The walls were carved stone. And the tracks were soon lost as the dirt didn't go very far into the chamber. Fiddle tumbled across the room. The light of his coin lit some of the area. Vlad moved to cover his back.

"Darian, bring up the light," Fiddle ordered.

"I'm not a linkboy," Darian stammered. But he did follow instructions. First left then right.

The chamber was in fact a very wide corridor. To the left was an octagonal room. A silver door with strange markings was in the Northeast corner. And maybe a passage in the South, but the light didn't go that far. No occupants. To the right was an oblong room. A strange towering shaft stood in the middle of the room. It obscured some of the rear. Vlad moved forward for a better look.

Two arrows sailed out of the darkness. One struck Vlad. They were fired from above. The chamber had an iron grate overhead. Two goblins with bows prepared to fire again.


----------



## diaglo

*Myth turned real*

The iron grate overhead did not prevent Vlad from spying 2 more goblins. He activated his axe. Fiddle reacted. He moved forward with his new dagger, Hole Punch. He tried to spot the archers before they saw him. Alya entered the room. She was in trog form. She fired her bow at one of the goblins. Darian quickly mumbled a pray to Lathander. He then moved forward with his lantern and sword in front of Alya. A large figure charged from the back of the room previously hidden by the shaft. He had hooves, horns, and a Huge Greatsword. The goblins fired at Vlad and Fiddle.  Calrom buried two arrows into the Minotaur. Sully followed suit with a ball of lightning. Two of the goblins keeled over dead. The Minotaur was only slightly shocked. He raged.

Vlad attempted to duck behind the Minotaur. It struck him a mighty blow. Vlad returned the favor. Fiddle had Hole Punch in hand again. But no time to think about it. He flung it again. Another dig. Alya stepped behind Darian. She sang a little tune. Darian vanished. Darian mumbled another pray. Vlad felt better. The Minotaur heard Darian, but stepped towards Alya. His sword didn't penetrate her new hide. One goblin hit Sully with an arrow. The other one fired at Alya. Calrom fired two more arrows into the Minotaur. Sully concentrated on the goblin who hit him. Two balls of magic knocked the goblin down, so he spent his last one on the Minotaur.

Vlad repositioned. He swung for the Minotaur's vitals. The creature batted the axe aside. Fiddle had Hole Punch again. The Minotaur was too close for a throw. So Fiddle attacked with the combination of Lightning Strike and Hole Punch. Lightning Strike found a spot. Alya moved behind Vlad and sang out. Vlad was back to normal. His wounds gone. Darian activated his sword. No one could see him. But the light sure gave everyone an idea. The Minotaur pulled a potion and moved away from combat. Vlad and Darian put a stop to that plan. The Minotaur fell and Darian was now visible. His potion broke on the floor. The goblin fled for safety across the grate.  He didn't make it all the way across the room.

ROOOOOAAARRRRR

Another Minotaur charged from the forgotten room from the left. Calrom fired two arrows at the new foe. They missed. Calrom shook his head. Sully centered a ball of lightning on the beast.

"It's an illusion," Sully called out. "Don't believe it."

Vlad dropped his axe and drew his bow. He fired at the last goblin. He hit the iron grate. Fiddle ran from the Minotaur. He found a set of stairs going up in the far corner of the room. Alya concentrated on the magic in the area.

"Have no fear," Alya confirmed.  "Sully speaks the truth."

Darian prepared to meet the threat, but he heeded Alya and Sully's words. The Minotaur attacked with a vengeance.  The blows rang true, but Darian was unharmed. The goblin was almost free. Calrom moved to the dead Minotaur's side and peppered the goblin. It collapsed. Sully watched for trouble.


----------



## diaglo

*Not a wise choice*

Vlad bent to reclaim his axe. Fiddle started to search the Minotaur. Alya turned her concentration on the Minotaur. A ring glowed. Fiddle picked it up. The memory of a letter Vlad had discovered early came to him. He put the ring on and concentrated.

"I'm coming for you Hedrack," Fiddle thought.

"Ah, I've been expecting you little o..." the presence replied before Fiddle screamed and pulled the ring off.

Darian peeled off and went to the other room. Calrom and Sully watched for trouble. The iron grate had several exits above in the main room. 

A female voice sang out to Darian. "I am not your enemy. Come help me."

Alya began to sing for courage. Darian lowered the flame on his sword and sheathed it.

"Oh no, you don't," Alya sang another tune. "She is charming you Darian. Don't listen."

Alya moved to see her opponent. A half human, half feline creature. A lamia. The lamia shrugged and smacked Darian. The light of Lathander left his eyes. He was still conscious, but somewhat slower witted now. Vlad moved to the rescue. He activated the axe. So did Calrom. He fired several arrows. Fiddle scrambled to help. He ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Sully moved into view also. He tossed a ball of lightning behind the she-beast. She dodged aside unfazed.

"Whoa," Sully muttered. "Now that is impressive."

Darian pulled his sword and activated it. Vlad landed a solid blow. Calrom fired another volley of arrows. Fiddle closed a tossed Hole Punch. A scratch. The lamia knew she had bitten off too much. She fled out of sight.

"Now what?" Alya asked. "Do we pursue?"

Vlad and Fiddle huddled on either side of the passage. Calrom had his bow trained ahead. Time crept slowly past.


----------



## diaglo

*Anybody got a light?*

"What about this door?" Alya asked. She was standing in front of the silver door. It was slightly ajar.

"Here let me," Calrom stepped forward. He had the Minotaur's Huge Greatsword in both hands. He prodded the door. It swung open.

A reddish misty figure stood in the doorway. Alya fired an arrow into the thing.

"A wraith," Darian shrieked. "Be gone you foul thing." The light of Lathander radiated from his holy symbol.

PPpppooPP

It vanished.

Fiddle closed the door. "Must find a way to lock it," he muttered. Nothing.

"I guess we have to follow the lamia," Sully shrugged. "Seems like she must have our stuff."


----------



## diaglo

*short quick version*

The party entered the next room. There they encountered two vermin wights. Darian turned them while the others pelted them with ranged weapons and Vlad hacked them with his axe. After the encounter the Calrom searched the room. He disarmed a trap. Nothing of value or interest was found. They exited the room by climbing a stairway. At the top of the stairs Fiddle was struck by the lamia. The party quickly fought off the beast. Darian blocked her exit. When the lamia tried to flee, Vlad and Darian laid her low. Fiddle recovered his treasure. The party exited by way of a corridor that opened back into the iron grate. They found another sealed door. The door they believed mentioned in Vlad's letter. The one the Moandites used a _Wish_ to open briefly. Inside they also met the paladin, Kalerecent. Darian and Fiddle quickly convinced him to leave with them. He had the body of his slain companion and spoke of a hag. The party filled him in on what they knew of the Sword of Light. He had another tale. He believed the Banewarrens, which was behind the sealed door, held the Sword. He was willing to go with the party to free Ivan.

The party rested and then revisited Ivan. All was as before. Fiddle led. Until they entered the first false tomb. The curst rogue had returned. The party quickly ended the rogue. They followed around to Ivan. Although Alya wanted to make sure no secret doors existed before their chat. Ivan asked the books be destroyed. Alya eventually agreed. First one, then the other. Ivan vanished. Fiddle unlocked the tomb of Kersherec. A holy warrior of the Sun god Imotep. His tomb was filled with riches. Kalerecent warred with the party over looting even Ivan's things. Fiddle still managed to pocket the gauntlets. However, it took some very strong persuading before the paladin would leave the tomb. He left for Tilverton to gather a council of Lathander while the party promised to follow.

The party headed to Peldan's Helm to buy some horses. Here they learned all was not well in the Helm. Thieves had visited since last the party was here. A gnomish bard lass had stolen the Sword from the Company of the Burning Brand. She flew and turned invisible. All care was being taken to recover the Sword and prevent further theft. Mouse had been roughed up by some over zealous people. Fiddle visited Mouse and bought new boots and a letter of introduction. He also purchased a riding dog. Marmaduke. the former companion of the heroes of Peldan's Helm. Timmay's steed. Horses were a valuable commodity and it cost the party dearly for 5 of them.

They rode to Tilverton. 4 days behind Kalerecent. Only a little trouble at the border near the Thunder Peaks. Calrom was not on the party charter. And he was not sure if he wanted to be.  When they arrived in Tilverton, a council had formed and would speak with them in the morning. Fiddle went to visit his contacts. While Darian, Alya, and the rest of the party also scattered across the city. Fiddle was also interested in finding Richter. He had also contacted the Bard.


----------



## diaglo

*Next session*

Fiddle will be absent next session which is this Sunday.

So I'll leave you all in the capable hands of my fellow party members. biorph (Alya) JoeBlank (Sully) howandwhy99 (Calrom) or Olgar Shiverstone (DM) will have to fill you in on what happens next.

maybe even Angelsboi (Richter) will have something to say.


----------



## biorph

*Thieves in the Temple*

Waking up the morning after their first night in Tilverton Alya stretched, rubbing some sore spots, dressed, and headed downstairs.  She hadn't felt this exhausted or sore since that night with the garrison at Castle Kragg.  

Calrom was the only one still around downstairs, Darian had decided to stay at the Rose Altar.  Sully had gone off to visit some of his own kind at the temple of Gond, Fiddle had sent word he'd be off for a while taking care of some business at Grimwald's Revenge, and Vlad was dead drunk and probably still exhausted from the steady stream of maidens coming and going from his room.  Alya smiled to herself.  It was nice to see the warrior have some fun and good to know she still had her when it came to spreading rumors.  She couldn't help wondering how Sully was faring as well.  

A band of Elves were sitting in the corner looking displeased and angry at the world.  As she went over to cheer them up, a young lad burst into the room breathlessly.  

"THERE'S BEEN AN ATTACK ON THE ROSE ALTAR!" he exclaimed 

Alya and Calrom looked at each other and immediately ran out the door, the elves would have to wait.


----------



## biorph

*A Dark Day the Temple of Light*

As Alya and Calrom raced to the temple the first thing that greeted them was the sight of a group of Purple Dragons standing over the fallen corpses of two Lathanderite priests and controlling the crowd outside.  They were rebuffed trying to get inside.

"Off with you people, the temple doesn't need any more gawkers."  The officer commanded.

"Please" begged Alya, "A friend of ours is a Lathanderite priest, we only wish to see if he is alright"

"Hmm, very well" replied the guard and sent someone inside to check on their story

"What happened here?" Calrom asked

"The temple was attacked last night, apparently 5 priests were killed defending some new artifact that the thieves stole." Replied the guard "We're tracking them down now, they won't escape justice, you can be sure of that."

A look of recognition passed between Calrom and Alya he said this.  A short time later the runner came back saying that they had been authorized to enter.  Alya and Calrom steeled themselves as they entered the temple, sincerely hoping that they Sword of Truth was the only thing that they had lost to the thief.


----------



## biorph

*A Night's Tale*

Alya was extremely relived to see Darian's curly blonde locks as she entered the temple.  The priest appeared to be in one piece though the temple looked like a war zone.

"What happened?" asked Alya "Are you alright?"

"Thankfully," replied Darian "I was not injured in the fight.  The High Father was able to survive but only because I was lucky enough to reach him in time.  Others unfortunately..." he drifted off and walked them over to the altar, there the severed head of the paladin Kalrecent lay inches away from his wrapped body. "I'm afraid that the damage my mind took from the lamia attack led me to give the paladin poor advice in the battle, and resulted in his death.  I have offered the High Father the sword Lathander gave to me in exchange for his return to the world of the living, it was the least I could do, I just hope Lathander understands."

"Well," a more cynical part of Alya thought to herself, "now we needn't worry about Himool finding his sword."

"So what exactly happened" asked Calrom

"It was several hours before dawn this morning" began Darian I was awakened to the sound of shouting and screams of pain.  I grabbed my mace and sword and rushed out into the fray.  There I found the night guards dead inside the main hall as well as the bodies of several other priests.  There was a trail of muddy boot prints leading into the back storage area.  Kelrecent was already in battle with a new acquaintance of ours.  You remember him, about 6 foot 4, wearing splint mail armor, long somewhat string blonde hair, been dead about a thousand or so years, goes by the name of Kersherack.  The High Father lay slumped in a corner, bleeding, but not yet dead.  As I entered the room Kelrecent called to me to stabilize the high father and I was able to use my remaining abilities to do that much at least.  As I turned to help Kelrecent engage the revenant of Kesherack, The beast pointed at the two of use and screamed 'DEFILERS, WHERE IS MY SHIELD?!'  I thought that the creature only wished to have its equipment back, so I told him it was at The Windlords Rest.  Then I made my mistake.  I told Kalrecent to stand down and let the creature pass.  I had thought that if it had what it wanted it would simply leave.  I was wrong.  As Kelrecent stood  down, the creature took the opportunity to cleave his head from his shoulders, using his newly regained sword and proceeded to advance on me.  I summoned all the energy of Lathander's might I could Muster but the creature stood there unfazed, even on this hallowed ground.  I ran towards the main area hoping to outrun the beast, but still it advanced on me.  I ran to the altar and was preparing to try to turn once more, when it stepped toward the altar and then screamed out in pain.  It turned and fled from this place.  I am sorry my friends, I had only hoped to save more lives, believing that if holy power had no effect the rest of the party would be much more able to handle this than I.  Were you attacked?  Is everyone okay?"

"No, we're were undisturbed" replied Calrom "no thanks to you." Darian looked abashed.

"So how are we going to prepare for tonight?" asked Alya

"The High Father has requested to see us to discuss that very matter." answered Darian.


----------



## biorph

*Divine Magic: The Gathering*

As Darian led them into an office in the back part of the small temple they saw a middle aged priest still magically tending to his own wounds. He looked up as he saw the young cleric enter and smiled.

"Ahh Darian" the High Father said "I understand I owe you my life"

"I'm glad I was at least able to save one life," Darian mumbled softly

"Nonsense my boy, you did what you thought was best, and in your current state you couldn't have known it was wrong, but we'll fix that in a minute.  These are your friends who helped you recover the sword I assume?" asked the priest.

"Some of them your grace, the others were otherwise detained I'm afraid."

"There appears to be a revenant about, who wants his possessions back very badly it seems.  Unfortunately he did manage to get away with the sword" 

"Was it in fact the Sword of Truth?" asked Alya

"I'm afraid we didn't have time to identify it." responded the high priest

"TIME! YOU DIDN'T HAVE..." Alya had to physically bite down on her tongue to prevent herself directly insulting the high priest.  'An animal messenger and a paladin 4 days in advance was not enough warning?  Why didn't they have the spell prepared as they entered the town.' she thought to herself.

"Yes," the priest continued nonplussed "however I'm calling together a convocation of the Lathanderites to discuss what to do about the sword and the news of the Banes that Kalrecent brought to us."

"Hmm, we're on our way to see Filani" began Alya regaining her composure "Perhaps her insight would be useful as well, she is quite knowledgeable on any number of topics"

"If you believe she'll be able to aid us in our search then please by all means ask her." said the high priest "Well if that is all I will leave you to any business you have in town.  Darian if you will stay behind I'll see that you have you mind restored."

As they left Alya mumbled to herself "Over a week's worth of warning and still they didn't have even a single war wizard on hand to perform an hour's work."


----------



## biorph

*Door to Door*

Several minutes later Darian came out and the three of them traveled to The Tower of Wit and Woe.  He had a bright gleam in his eye as he came from the office.

"My apologies," He said "I'm afraid the priests of Lathander can tend to be a bit..,.flaky, sometimes."

"Nevermind, let head to Filani's" Said Alya, "I'd still like to know what the rest of this stuff we got from that thing is"

"Who is the person anyway?" asked Calrom "And how can she afford her own tower?"

"Filani is a sage specializing in information gathering" began Darian "She can afford it, because she always knows just how much her information is worth, and is more than willing to charge full price for it."

They soon approached the tower in the center of town. Calrom seemed awestruck as they approached.  Alya found it kind of cute and a 'first time in the big city' kind of way. Calrom obviously didn't get out of the forest much.

"Greetings Mistress Alya." called out the elf guarding the tower "Come to see the lady of the tower today?"

"Greetings to you." Alya replied "Indeed we have, is Filani in?"

"She is, head on up." said the elf, who blushed scarlet as Alya gave him a wink and a smile in passing.

As Alya approached the doors she called out "Open up already, we've got business to attend" Calrom stopped awestruck as the large stone doors opened on command

"It's just a simple matter of letting the doors know who's boss." Alya told him.


----------



## howandwhy99

This looks really good, Sean.  I can't wait 'till you get to Calrom showing off his new spell: Complete Submersion (or Puck Pedestal).


----------



## biorph

Ahhh yes, ALya's probably STILL prestidigitating the smell out.


----------



## biorph

*Bend Me, Shape Me, Anyway Filani*

"Hello again adventurers." Filani greeted them "To what do I owe the pleasure?  I'm glad to see young father Dawnguard is alright after last night's attack on the church.  Can I offer you some tea?"

"How did you..." Began Calrom but Alya interrupted him.

"Filani know everything that goes on, it's basically her job" she told him "We would love some thank you.  We have some items we need you to identify and a favor to ask.  Last night Darian ran across a revenant and was lucky to escape with his life.  We'd like to know if it's possible to reason with the creature, or understand why it's attacking us.

"Hmmm" Began Filani addressing Darian "What do you know of these creature's young Master Dawngaurd?"

"Well" began Darian "They are corpses who have animated to avenge some great wrong, they are driven by anger and vengeanace..."

"And as such..." prodded Filani

"Probably can't be reasoned with" finished Darian

"Indeed, they are also immune to turning.  What did it want from the temple?" asked Filani

"It appeared to want its sword back" said Darian

"Hmm, well if that's the case, the great wrong was the robbery of its grave.  It will likely continue until such time as all of it's possessions are either reclaimed or returned, or until it is defeated and destroyed." Said Filani

"Ahh speaking of which, we have some of those possessions with us." began Alya "There have been no other attacks so it's probably safe to assume it won't attack during the day. we were hoping that you'd be able to identify these for us before he reclaimed them."  

"We will of course be back long before sunset to retrieve them from you." said Calrom in between loud slurps of tea "We wouldn't want you attacked."

"My thanks for that." replied Filani. "Until then I will merely have to trust that the magic of my tower is enough to keep the creature out should it decide to attack.  You have money for my payment of course?"

"Ahh yes" said Darian "We were wondering about that, is there anything we can trade to lower the price somewhat?"

"Well information is always of value, the rarer the better, what have you to tell me?" Filani asked.

"Would you perhaps like this?" asked Darian pulling out a glowing piece of sculpted crystal.  "It could light your workshop on dark nights, and it's light will never expire."

"You mean like these?" said Filani pointing to the various ever glowing lanterns already dotting the ceiling of her workshop.

"Yeeees" began Darian "But this one is a completely unique creation, a one of a kind piece of crystal craftsmanship.  You would honor me if you would accept if as a gift for all the service you have done for us in the past."

"Very well Master Dawnguard, have you anything else you wish to offer me to defray the cost of my work?" Filani asked.

"What about a complete map of the barrows as far as we've explored them so far?" said Darin, pulling a map out his sketch book.

"Let me see" said Filani as she examined the map "Yes, yes this will do, I will waive my usual labor fee and the cost will be only 300 gold."

"Oh" exclaimed Alya "I had almost forgotten, do you know of anyone who would be willing to purchase some rare Netherese coins we found in the barrows?  Would you be interested?"

Filani looked over the coins "No I'm afraid not, the coins have little value to me, though I've heard that House Vladaam has an estate just outside of town they are known to collect such things.  You may wish to speak with them."

"Our thanks" replied Darian "We do have one final request, from the High Father of the Rose Altar himself.  We are holding a conclave this tonight an hour before sunset to discuss what to do about both the revenant and the quest for the Sword of Truth.  Given your vast areas of knowledge we felt it would be beneficial if you would be there to lend your expertise to the situation."

"I would be most honored to attend" said Filani  "Your items should be identified later this afternoon, if you want to stop by before then."

And with that the party finished their tea, said their goodbyes, and left for House Vladaam.


----------



## biorph

*I Didn't Come Here to be Insulted*

Darian sent Calrom ahead to House Vladaam, something about impressing them by having a ranger at their beck and call.  While they were waiting for him Alya gave Darain the money she'd been saving to have him make a special magical cloak for her.  She didn't have as much as he wanted, but Darian was gracious enough to offer to let her pay him the rest back as soon as she could.  When Calrom returned he looked more annoyed than anything else.  

"The _lady_ of the house will see you at your leisure _Master_ Dawngaurd." Said Calron with no small hint of annoyance "She'll be in town for the next day or so."

"You sound like you had a fun time." commented Alya dryly.

"People like them are the reason I stay in the forest." Replied Calrom.

...............................................................................................................................................

Arriving at the Vladaam estate, it was clear that the family from merchant prince stock just from the sheer size of the house.  A wall surrounded several acres of land with two armed guards at the front gate.  Set in the back of beautifully kept grounds was a large three story house.

"Back so soon, wild man? Brought some civilized company with you this time?  And some pretty company too.  Care to give the little strumpet quick pass around the barracks?"

Alya sighed and thought to herself, 'Soldiers, they always seemed to be able to tell'. "You couldn't afford a ticket even if you could handle the ride." Alya replied tartly, but gave the soldier a friendly wink anyway; no point in pretending her past didn't exist after all. Besides if this place were as well off as it looked, perhaps she could arrange to do some banking.  While she was taking deposits from the guards Fiddle and Vlad could be making a withdrawal at the main house.

"I am Darian Dawnguard of House Dawngaurd." replied Darian diplomatically "I believe your mistress is expecting us."

"Indeed she is Master Dawngaurd, please enter." Said the guard as he unlocked the gate "Only she requests that please try to clean up your barbarian this time.  The servants are still cleaning up all the mud he tracked in with him from last time, and they are still trying to air out the main parlor which was saturated with his unique..._odor_."

Darian looked upward.  It was difficult to tell if he was praying or merely rolling his eyes.  Alya suspected it was actually both.  Calrom was turning beet red though whether from anger of embarrassment Alya couldn't tell.  Again, she suspected probably both.


----------



## biorph

As they entered the main hall of the Vladaam estate, it was fairly obvious that the family must come from merchant stock.  No other nobles would be able to afford the simple yet opulent furnishings of this estate. As they entered they were met by a man who's face was set with small beady eyes behind a disproportionately large nose.   No matter which way he turned he always seemed to have to look down his nose to see anything.

"Can I...assist...you" He asked Darian

"Yes we have an appointment with the lady of the house, if you would please announce our presence." the cleric responded

"I see" said the servant "And the...harlot and...forest creature, they are with you as well?"

"Yes" said Darian curtly.

"Very well" the servant sighed "Please ask them not to sit on the furniture.  We've had enough trouble cleaning up after your..._associate's_...first visit without having to worry about getting his miasma on the silks and other more delicate fabrics.  And heaven knows when the last time your slut bathed.  And nothing had better go missing in the short time she's here." stated the servant before promptly turning on his heel and leaving the room to announce them.

Had be turned slower he would have seen what accompanied the muffled sound of a struggle as Alya had to physically restrain Calrom from breaking the peace bonding on his weapons and attacking the servant outright.

"Forgive me for anything I may say in this meeting," he asked "I fear that the way to get the best price would be for me to show distain for my companions rather than trying to change the attitudes of these stuck up prigs."

"Agreed" said Alya, "We're not going to be changing any minds here, let's just get our cash and go.  Keep your temper Calrom, You won't help anybody by landing yourself in jail for assault against a noble." 'Advice I'll have to remember for myself as well' Alya thought.

Several minutes later they were escorted into a drawing room of elegant furnishings where a young woman dressed in a flowing white dress greeted Darian.

"Master Dawnguard," She said "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you personally before, it is an honor."

"And for me as well," said Darian performing a low bow and kissing the lady's hand.

"However next time please do leave your strumpet and barbarian at home" She began "We prefer to burn our trash rather than travel with it.  Would you like some tea?"  As she spoke Alya could see the woman make an effort to inconspicuously stick out her chest to make her cleavage appear larger.  The bard couldn't hide a sly self satisfied smile.

"You're too kind," said Darian smiling graciously and taking a cup "I'm, afraid good help is so hard to come by these days I have to take what I can get.  But if we may get down to business, I'm afraid my day is somehwta busy, as I'm sure yours is as well.  We were told that your family collects rare coins."

"Oh we collect far more than that Master Dawnguard" she began "We also collect items of a magical nature from all over Cormyr and parts beyond.  My father, Lord Vladaam, and my brother are especially interested in magical weapons currently."

"Really!" said Darian as the eyes of the three party members lit up.  "We may have some more custom for you then. but first thing's first, Alya, the coins if you would."

Time to have some dig at this insufferable snob thought Alya as she pulled out the box of coins "Yes" Alya said smiling sweetly "We were quite fortunate, notice the large size and excellent quality of the chest, feel free it admire the craftsman ship, we've been getting a lot of compliments on it and a number of people have admired it in passing."  As the lady looked up from the obviously plain wooden box, her and Alya's eyes met each daring the other to crack first.

"Indeed" Said Lady Vladaam dryly "It looks rather common and overly used to be of much value.  These coins however are lovely, I believe my father would like these a great deal" she said delicately picking out five of each type of coin.  "Would you accept, oh say, twice the value of the metal for them?"

"*YES*." Darian replied before Alya could be allowed to retort, "That's most gracious thank you.  We also have several magical weapons if you would care to examine them. We have this great axe and a rapier in a jeweled scabbard." Darian Glared at Alya for her to keep her mouth shut this time.

"Hmm, the axe, no I'm afraid it's a bit too..._primitive_" she said looking at Calrom as she emphasized the last word.  "But the rapier however, hmm, the scabbard is quite nice, a pity it's on such a..._common_...background.  Still my brother may be interested in acquiring it.  where should I have him send a message if he's interested?"

"The Windlord's rest?" suggested Darian

"No," Lady Vladaam replied "I'm afraid it wouldn't do to have one of our messengers seen there among their _kind_."

Darian let out a long sigh "Perhaps the temple of Lathander then?"

"Yes, I believe the rose altar would be acceptable" the lady replied.

"Very well, if we have no further business to discuss, I'll must bid you good day, I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to."  said the lady as she escorted them back into the hall. 

As they left Alya said to Darian, "5 minutes alone with her, and no witnesses that's all I ask" she began cracking her knuckles. "Look, I need some reasonably 'civilized' company right now, so I'm, going to track down those 'barbarian elf wild men', that were in the inn this morning.  Calrom why don't you go pick up the items from Filani and Darian, why don't you see if the High Father has any new information for us on the revenant of its whereabouts." And with that the bard stalked off and left them to their business.


----------



## biorph

*Treehuggers*

As Alya reentered The Windlord's Rest she felt as though a giant weight had lifted off of her shoulders. Here at least she could fine brief respite from the overly inbred prejudiced humans she'd been forced to interact with.  She ordered up an ale and walked over to a party of dour looking elves in the corner.

"Greetings brothers what seems to be troubling you?" She asked trying to sound more cheerful than she felt.

"And to you sister." said the elf who was obviously leader of the party "Where are those _humans_ you were with earlier" he asked with some distain.

Alya felt her heart sink, the last thing she wanted to deal with right now was the Elven equivalent of the Vladaams.  Ah well, like they say in the business, close your eyes, suck it up, and pretend you're enjoying yourself.

"Eh, Vlad is alright once you get over the stench, much like the human city itself.  But at least Calrom seems more in tune with a proper way of life." she said

"Bah, that half human's as bad as the rest of 'em ." spat the elf. 

"Half human?" asked Alya "I though Calrom was a human like any other."

"Nay, he's got elven blood in him sure enough," said the elf "Though he tries to hide it by keeping his hair long and letting it grow over the tips on his ears.  All the signs are there if you know how to look."

'Interesting' thought Alya 'I'll have to bring this up with Calrom' Aloud to the elves she said "But truly brothers, if you find them so distasteful, why are you in human lands?"

"It's the damn logging camp up by Elven Crossing." began the elf "Though we reluctantly agreed to allow them to do some cutting, there have been reports of the great trees, being cut down and shipped whole down the Moonsea Ride to Tilverton for furniture and the like.  We found some example of this in the marketplace, but not enough to bring up charges, obviously because of our appearance we've been unable to find many people willing to help us in our search."

'And your attitudes had nothing at all to do with that I'm sure.' Alya thought to herself sarcastically. Aloud she asked them "So what do you plan to do now then?"

"Well probably be heading back to the forest, trying to do what we can from there.  There's not much we can do from here.  be careful if you're heading back into the dales anytime soon.  If we find out that the humans have been logging illegally taking the great trees from the forest, it'll be all out war, you mark my words." With that the elves stood and left the Windlord's Rest.

Alya finished her ale, stretched, and stood up. 'It was all probably a bunch of saber rattling anyway.' she thought. ' I'd better hurry or I'll be late for the meeting at the Rose Altar.'


----------



## biorph

*How did you know that?*

As Alya approached the temple she was met by Calrom carrying the revenant’s holy symbol and shield.

“That is THE RUDEST door,” He began “Just let it know who’s boss indeed.  Anyway, the shield is a basic shield that provides extra defense.  The holy symbol Maniwater however is provides both defense and resistance against certain kinds of attacks.”

“Interesting,” said Ayla “I would have thought your elven ingenuity would have been able to think of something.” Calrom blatantly ignored the remark “Still” Alya continued as she looked at the items “It’s a pity I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep them.”

The two of them stepped inside where they were shown to a conference room, with Darian, The High Father, Filani, and several other servants of Lathander Alya didn’t recognize.  Kelrecent was even there, looking somewhat paler than before and having a nasty scar on his neck where his head had been reattached.  They made their introductions (the names of which your humble author didn’t pay attention to) and proceeded to discuss business.

“I must still protest this course of action your grace” began one of the nuns “If we attempt to tamper with The Banes who knows what we could unleash upon the land.”

“It’s a moot point” said one of the brothers “We hardly know where to begin with opening them, from the descriptions we’ve received their sealed to all but the most powerful magics.”

“Yes” said Alya “According to the not we found a ring of three wishes was necessary for them to get in, and unless someone happens to have another one handy, I think it would require Lathander’s direct intervention in order to bypass the wards.”

“And no one here has that sort of connection to the Sun Lord,” Said Darian “I’m not sure even the high priest in Suzail has that sort of power”

“Oh, he could do it” said Alya “I know that much for certain, though it would certainly cost someone a pretty big hunk of gold.”

The table turned to look at her almost as one “And how do YOU know this?” Darian asked. Alya replied by giving Darian bard guild patented smile number 32, “The ‘I know something you don’t know.’ With a hint of mischievous grin number 14 thrown in for good measure.

“Anyway, even if we did get the high priest to acquiesce, that would still be several weeks to go to there, convince him of our cause, and bring him back to the Barrow Mounds.” Alya continued “And we don’t know how much of a head start they have on us already.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned ‘them’. ” queried the other nun, “Who else has been searching through this place lately?”

“So far, we encountered the Zhentarim and the cult of Moander, as well as possibly some others we may not yet have found.  Not to mention the place has been frequented by other adventuring parties lately and who knows what they may accidentally release.” Said Darian

“I have asked Lathander for a vision to aid us in this matter, and though he has sent me one, I’m unsure of it’s meaning” Interrupted the high father. “In my vision I saw three hands: a hand with an eye, a hand with a mouth, and a dead and withered mummified hand.  The hand with the eye held the dead hand though it was not aware of it.  The hand with the mouth sought the dead hand though it did not know where to look.”

“Interesting” said Filani “In my research of the Banewarrens, I came across some interesting information about the Danaar, the man who constructed them.  Apparently all of the doors in the warrens were sealed to prevent entry, and each one had a large magical device place inside them to prevent others from tunneling around the doors.  But it was said Danaar’s touch could open any door that he had sealed.  Perhaps this dead hand is Danaar’s own?”

“Hmm, if that were the case,” said Darian “The hand with the mouth is the symbol for Moander, and if they seek to enter the Banewarrens, they would certainly be looking for this item, though apparently they don’t know where to find it yet.  If the hand with the eye is the same one used as a holy symbol by the priests of Bane, then they may unknowingly possess the item.”

“Something isn’t right though” said Alya “If the priests of Bane had the hand we should have found it on the Zhentarim we captured in the Barrow Mounds.  After all it would seem silly to have the item and not use it for the purpose it was made for.”

“Unless they aren’t aware that they have it.” Said Filani, “It sounds like it could easily be confused with a mage hand, like the kind I’ve seen in house Vladaam’s collection…come to think of it, maybe house Vladaam has it as part of their collection and doesn’t know it.”

A light went on in Alya’s eyes ‘The hand with the eye held the dead hand though it was not aware of it.  Working with the priests of the Zhentarim.  That’s treason, lady Vladaam, oh this could be fun.’ Alya thought to herself.

“Very well, so we have a lead we can at least follow for that problem.” Said Darian “Filani would you please let us know if you have any other ideas, or find any other information that may be of use?” Filani nodded her ascent. “Good, now I’m afraid we have more pressing matters.  It’s almost sundown and the revenant will be back soon to reclaim it’s possessions.  Have we found out anything more about it?”

“Oh quite a great deal actually Father Dawnguard.” Said the High Father “On its way to the temple it appeared to kill two beggars and when it left it headed toward the sewers beneath the city.  My divinations have led me to believe that the sword it holds is not in fact the sword of truth, but merely the sword of a holy knight.”

“If that’s the case, then perhaps it would simply be best to return its possessions and left it return to the barrows to rest in peace.” Said Darian

“But doesn’t Lathander view the undead as an abomination?” asked Alya

“This is also true Master Dawngaurd, but since you awoke the creature I will leave the decision up to you.” Said the High Father

“Well” said Darian “Since half our party has disappeared somewhere in the depths of the city, and I’ve yet to be able to contact them, I feel that perhaps it might be wisest to give the creature it’s possessions to return it to its rest.  If we feel it is necessary and right to destroy the creature upon our return, to ensure the holy knight proper eternal rest, than we can do so as a party.”

“Very well, Darian.” Agreed Alya. “Will we await the creature here in the divine protection of the altar or shall we wait outside the city where no other innocent bystandards are at risk?”

“*I* would prefer” Interrupted the high father “If you waited for the creature outside the city.  I would not like to see any more lives risked than was absolutely necessary.”

“Very well your grace” said Darian “Then we should make haste, the sun is already beginning its decent.”

“Alya” asked Filani “If I may have a word with you.”

“Of course.”  Alya replied as the loremaster pulled her off to a quiet area of the temple,

“There has been a man asking for you at the Temple of Gond.” The loremaster started “An elf who was one of those attacked by the Agent of Chaos.  After the attack something in his mind seemed to break, and he was given over to the priests of the Temple of Gond for care.  Lately he has stared asking for you specifically.”

“How odd” replied Alya “I barely remember passing him in the fray, strange that he should know me specifically.  Thank you for this information Filani, I’ll definitely have to check up on him before I leave the city.”

With that, Alya rejoined her companions and they set out at a brisk pace to be clear of the city by nightfall.


----------



## biorph

*That Which was Forgotten*

Ayla, Darian, and calrom rode swiftly out of town chased by the rays of the setting sun.  As they passed the guard tower to the city, they told the guard that they were on a mission for the rose altar and to be ready to let them back in.

The stopped riding a mile outside of the city and set up camp.  Calrom lit a fire and they each took turns watching for the revenant in the night.  They all felt slightly put off and bewildered in the morning as nothing happened in the night.

"I don't understand this" said Darian "It SHOULD have come after its possessions.  That's what revenants do.  The only place it would have gone is here." 

"Huh," said Calrom "Unless it still thought we were at..." The ranger's voice stopped each of the party members eyes suddenly grew wide with the shock of the realization of what they'd forgotten.  Almost as one they jumped on their horses and rode with all speed back to the city, praying that The Windlord's Rest was still in one piece.


----------



## biorph

As they rode through the east gate of the city they stopped at the guard tower to ask a quick question.

“Greetings again-“

“Hello” replied Alya quickly “Please tell me, have there been any reports of an attack or a fire in the city last night at The Windlord’s Rest”

“Well my lady” began the guard “It is on the southwest side of the city and we are all the way over here on the east gate so-“

“Right, thanks for that.” rushed Alya and the three of them immediately continued to ride hard through the city.

When they arrived at The Windlord’s Rest the situation they found was confusing at best.  The building was still standing and there were no bodies lying in the street, but Grimwald’s Revenge next door had a slew of Purple Dragon guards outside.

“Oh no,” said Alya “wasn’t Fiddle staying there?”

The party rushed off to where a Purple Dragon was sending gawkers away from the scene.

“Please Sir” began Alya “Was there an attack here last night?  We fear one of our friend’s may have been injured.”

“Okay ma’am what did this friend of yours look like.” Replied the guard.

“Well, he was a halfling.” Replied Alya “Small, got into trouble a lot.”

“Hmm, maybe you three had better come with me,” replied the guard

“As the entered the area one of the first things they noticed was the smell of the blood as it covered the ground.  Then they saw a Fiddle sized hand, followed by a Fiddle sized leg.  Alya knew that it could still be any other Halfling, but really, how many of them could there possibly be in the city, things didn’t look good.  Soon they found the rest of the Fiddle sized arm, until with relief, they noticed a very un-Fiddle sized breast.  

“Dammit,” said Alya looking at Darian “I can’t do this again.  We can’t let this go on another night.  If we’re wrong again and it kills someone else, it’ll be our fault.”

“You’re right” Said Darian “We’ll track it in the sewers today before nightfall.  Hopefully with luck we’ll be able to find it and return its items before it goes out hunting for them again. Calrom do you think you can track it?”

“Certainly,” replied Calrom “Though how are we going to get into the sewers with all the purple guards watching?”

“We’ll just have to get permission.” said Darian.


----------



## biorph

*In the Dragons Now*

Darian approached the nearest guard at the scene.

"Excuse me, can we speak to your commanding officer, we have some information about this crime that he might find most...useful." said Darian.

"What is this information sir and how did you come across it may I ask?" replied the guard.

"That would really be better discussed with the head of the investigation, some of the details are of a rather delicate nature." Said Darian.

The guard raised an eyebrow in curiosity but did not pry "Very well." he said. "If you'll wait a couple of minute I'll take you to him." 

Several minutes later they were escorted to the headquarters of the Purple Dragons and introduced to guard in charge of the investigation.

"Alright" the large man in the purple tabard said gruffly "You've got your audience, this better be important, what do you have to tell me."

"We believe we know what's caused last night's attack, where to find it, and we're willing to stop it for you, so more innocent lives don't get risked," said Darian

"Well that's certainly...welcome, but would you mind elaborating a bit before I agree to let you help us." said the guard with no small amount of suspicion in his voice.

"Alright" said Darian "It's simple enough, the creature that caused the attack last night was a revenant, a form of undead.  It's the same creature that attacked the Church of Lathander the night before.  You probably found tracks leading into the sewers from the scene of the crime.  We know how to stop this thing so that there won't be anymore attacks, but we have to act before sunset of it will attack again."

"Well we did find tracks leading into the sewers, that much is true...IF I were to allow you to do this, what would you need from me?" said the guard.

"We'd need permission to enter the sewers and investigate.  A map of the sewers would also be useful if you have one." Said Darian

"And a writ allowing our friend to use his weapons throughout the course of his investigate would also be nice" interjected Alya pointing at Calrom.

"Very well" said the guard  He scribbled something on a piece of paper and stamped it.  "With this your friend is hereby authorized to carry is weapons and use them.  Also show this to the guard on the scene and he will let you into the sewers.  I assume you can follow the tracks?"

"We can" said Darian "Our friend is quite accomplished at that."

"Excellent" said the sergeant going over to a closet and pulling out three purple tabards "Wear these at all times during your investigation, You're working for the purple dragons now.


----------



## biorph

*Oh $#!+*

When they returned to Grimwald's Revenge the guard wearing an identical purple tabard allowed them to pass.  The blood soaked prints leading into the sewers were easy enough to find on the outside, but inside it got slightly more difficult.  After a few feet the tracks washed away.

"Well" said Darian, "Now what? Do we hunt around in here until we chance across it?"

"Thinking logically" said Alya "If the creature fears the sun, wouldn't it try to get as far away from it as possible?  If we follow the sewage downstream, we might find it at the deepest point. "

"Sounds reasonable." said Calrom and off the party went slogging through the...well, let's just call it detritus.  As they followed the path down Calrom noticed the tracks of a large snake several times.   

Eventually they passed an anomaly in the sewers, a closed wooden door set into the wall.  The bottom had begun to rot off and Calrom noticed through one of the holes what looked like a thin cord tied to a nail on the door.  Bending down he say the cord connected to a large crossbow, still loaded aimed at the door.  Calrom told everyone to back away and then untied the cord.  Sure enough the bolt crashed through the rotted wood and was stuck there.  A quick search of the room revealed a small pouch with some gold and a load of rubbish.  

The party continued following the tracks further down until they reached a large pool surrounded by snake trails and what looked to be a green light coming through a hole in the wall.  Alya quickly cleared a trail in the much with magic and let Calrom sneak up to the enterance.  As he approached, they saw the ranger's shoulder's sag.

"Check it out." Called out Calrom " I REALLY don't think he's here."

As Alya and Darian approached they immediately saw why.  The green light was from the sun shining though some leaves covering the door.  The doorway led to a hole in the hillside some ways outside the city.

"So much for that idea" said Calrom "Unless  we missed a passage somewhere?"

"No" said Darian "They pretty much all lead to this pool and I don't think the snake could have eaten him."

"So back to the top again I guess" said Alya

The party slowly trudged its way back up to the entrance and began to look for tracks again.  Knowing what lay to the south, they followed the northern exit and after a while of slogging once again found some footprints, several of them however, they found some children's footprints next to the tracks left by the revenant.  fearing the worst they began to slog through the waste as fast as they could.  Oddly however the children's prints ended at a bricked up wall while the revenant's prints moved on to the north.


----------



## biorph

*Disappearing Act*

The elf fired into the trash pile and was met by a loud roar, as it suddenly sprang into motion, it crawled forward and attempted to bash it's way through the mortared part of the brick wall.

Darian sighed "It is as I feared, it is an otyugh, if there were Children down here and they have not responded, they were probably eaten by that creature.  We should hurry to find the revenant, we can kill the otyugh when we return and reclaim their bodies for their poor families."

With a heavy heart the party continued following the revenant's tracks.  as they approached another sewer grate-

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!" the revenant jumped out in from of them its sword glowing green and it's rage obvious.  Along it's arm was a glue glow where it's shirld had been and another around it's neck from the holy symbol.  It was again wearing the crown and scepter that the party had taken from it at the tomb (the items reclaimed at Grimwald's revenge).

Darian acted quickly, he placed the items taken from Kesherack's tomb and placed them on the ground before him.  "Great Kesherack, we are sorry we have disturbed your rest, please retake your items and accept our apologies."

The revenant look confused, as if it wasn't sure what to do.  after a few moments it picked up it's items.  "_You return what you have stolen._" it rasped. "_You have much honor._" With that it slowly slogged off down the passage they had just come from, and in the direction of the hillside exit.

The party made their way to the bricked up corridor again.  They pushed in the unmortared bricks hoping to surprise the otyugh, but the creature had long since moved back down the corridor.  A quick volley of arrows ended the creature's life.   They climbed over the wall to enter the passage and noticed another bricked off passageway across from them and an open passage way to their left.  The floor here was cleaner and drier than before, although there was still a stream of waste flowing into the passage underneath the bricks.  A cursory look revealed the open passage to be a dead end and the other bricked off passage to have the same mortarless bricks on top, leading into a a passage similar to the one they had just left. Darian sliced open the otyugh looking for the bones of the children.

"Huh," he said, "There's no remains, check around everybody it may have already excreted them."

The party searched the passage and though strangely they didn't find any bones they did find something odd. 

"Look here," said Calrom "A chain.  This thing was manacled here, it was a guard dog"

"So," said Alya look around at the empty floor and the waste stream "What was it guarding? And what happened to the children?"


----------



## biorph

*Riddles in the Dark*

"Well" said Alya point to the dead ended passage on their left "We've only got one place to search really."

As they entered the passage they noticed a large alcove off to the side partially hidden by the shadows.  A quick search revealed a small secret door set into the wall about half the size of a regular door.  Crouching down they pushed open the door.

FWOOOSH! As a jet of flame burst out from the door Alya pressed herself against the side of the wall avoiding most of the blast. Darian and Calrom were not so lucky and each reflexively dive for the nearest source of water to put themselves out.  When they both stood up again, the only thing still clean on Darian was his magical metal armor. Both of them looked and smell rather alot like the otyugh.  They came back to the door, and Alya changed herself into a troglodyte and healed her wounds.

'Perhaps now at least I'll be able to handle the smell.' She thought to herself. 

She moved into the small passage and began to sing an entrancing melody, hoping to catch whatever might surprise them off guard. 'What is going on here?' she thought to herself.

Darian handed Alya a mirror and she floated it down the corridor to look around the corner.  They didn't see anything down the corridor either.

"Let's head back" said Darian, slowly retreating  back into the corridor "We can tell the Sargent and let him deal with whatever this is."

"Not so fast there big man." said a voice from the shadows. "You're assuming we're going to let any of you leave here alive."  Out from the shadows stepped three halflings in black leather with swords drawn and a murderous look in their eye.


----------



## biorph

*Never Underestimate Someone with a Low Center of Gravity*

They party was flanked by halflings on either side and they didn’t look happy to see three people in Purple Dragon tabards poking around their lair.

‘Think fast think fast’ thought Alya.  

“Excuse us” said Darian “We were just looking for the commode, from the smell it looks like we accidentally fell in,  we’ll be going now, no need to show us the way out.”

The halfings weren’t buying it, they leapt on Alya and Darian.  Alya’s newly thickened hide deflected one of their swords but the other landed a cut on Darian. 

“My friends!” she said as she turned into a rather comely halfing. “Do you know our friend, Fiddle, Fiddle Skipstone?”

Unfortunately they still weren’t listening and she got a knife between the ribs for her troubles.  Calrom fired a shot at one of them but in order to miss Alya it went too wide.  Alya moved to get into better position to draw her bow and fire; unfortunately, she realized too late that her hands were too small to work her bow as effectively, the halflings took the oportunity to get on either side of Calrom and send him badly bleeding to the ground. Darian was able to land a powerful it on the one attacking him, while the other two flanked Alya on either side.  Darian hit them all with a burst of deafening noise, Alya was stunned from the shock, as was one of the halflings.  Alya kept trying to get out of their way, but the seemed to slice at her no matter which way she went.  Thankfully, they didn’t seem to be able to get very many potent shots.  Darian managed to freeze on in his tracks, before dispatching the other two with a blast of white hot light.

As Alya moved over back to Darian the frozen Halfling suddenly became unfroze.  He grabbed his knife and held it to Calrom’s throat.

“ALRIGHT! NOBODY MOVE OR I KILL YOUR FRIEND WHERE HE LAYS!”


----------



## biorph

*Goodhins*

"Okay okay, just calm down" said Alya still in halfling form. 'Okay so apparently someone has replaced the Fire Knives as the local theives guild.' She thought to herself. 'And the new crime syndicate is made up of halflings.'

"Look" she began "We don't want any trouble , we were just down here looking for a revenant that's been killing people."

"And you just happened to stumble through the top of a brick wall in your search?" replied the halfling angrily "While wearing PURPLE DRAGN UNIFORMS!"

Alya sighed "No, we were getting rid of the revenant for the Purple Dragons and the gave us some of their tabards so people would know we were on official business.  When we were tracking the revenant, we saw the footprints of some children  after killing it we came here to investigate thinking the otyugh had eaten them.  When we didn't find any bodies we searched around and stumbled upon your...business."

"So you expect me to believe that three people wearing Purple Dragon tabards and flinging magic around left and right just happened to STUMBLE ACROSS OUR LAIR? PUT YOURSELF IN MY SHOES!" said the halfling.

"Well obviously we wouldn't fit." said the bard "It's not our fault we thought your tacks were those of some children."

"Oh so its SHORT JOKES now is it.  so you WANT me to kill your friend." the halfling replied.

"Look." Said Darian, "We don't want to piss you guys off, if fact we might have some things we want to sell you."

"Welllllll," said the halfling.  "I'll give you a chance, but that sort of thing normally takes place above, the Revenge and the like."

"Oh?" said Darain "We'll remember that for next time.  Is there some time we should meet you?"

"We'll send a representative to the Flagon Held High at dusk tonight.  If you aren't there or we see so much as even a single purple tabard down here poking their noses around, you'll all be getting a contract out on you for some assassins and don't think I won't do it." said the halfling.

"Alright, alright." said Darian "No telling the guards about what's down here, be at the Flagon Held High at dusk, got it. Ummm, see ya around."

"Yeah right." Said the halfling as he leapt backward off of Calrom and tumbled into the darkness.  Darian used his magic to get the ranger back on his feet.

"So what now" asked Darian "Do we continue exploring?"

"Well" replied Alya sarcastically "As fun as it would be to continue this merry romp through the poo, we're all injured, and could use a hot bath...then another hot bath, then another hot bath...followed by possibly another one and maybe one more still."

"Right" said Darian "Let's get out of here."


----------



## biorph

*Someone Wasn't Nursed as a Child?*

As they left the sewers Alya used her magic to clean them up as best she could.  The smell still permeated their clothes though.  As they approached the entrance to The Windlord's Rest the proprietor met them at the door.

"Excuse me my- Ogh, it's even worse closer to you.  What happened?"

"Sewers, long story," said Alya tiredly "Bathwater, piping hot, lots of it."

"Indeed" said the innkeeper "Please head around back and I'll send the boy over as quickly as I can."

As they left Alya heard a familiar elven voice remark "Gods, now they even stink worse than before, come brothers, let us go before I lose my lunch."

They went around back to the stables and each took an empty horse stall for modesty sake. Calrom's eyes goggled when Alya took off her leather tunic.

"For pity's sake Calrom" Alya snapped at the ranger "They're breasts, now either paint a picture or show some dignity and look away." 

The ranger went scarlet and turned his head.  Alya continued to try magical cleaning for a few minutes before a young child came carrying two heavy pails of water.  "Where were you" asked the child with wide eyed innocence.  "Are you adventurers?  What did you do?  Can you tell me your tale?"

Alya sighed and bent over to pick up a pail from the child. The boy at least had seen a woman before "We were in the sewers fighting a revenant" said Alya "It was dirty and stinky and I don't recommend you try it."

"What else happened?" asked the boy eagerly

"Nothing really, just alot of slogging around in the muck," said Alya "Now go off and fetch use some more hot water, there's a good lad."

Several hour and MANY buckets of water later, the three were clean dressed and once again standing before the sergeant who had let them into the sewers originally.  As they stood before him, the sergeant checked his boots to see if he had stepped in something.

"The revenant is gone, once again laid to rest" said Darian "The killings should stop now."

"I and the city thank you" Said the sargent "I have also seen to it that your new companion is added to your charter so he is allowed to carry weapons unbonded."

"Many thanks" said Darian "I was wondering, would it be possible to keep the deputization as Purple Dragon Guards?"

"Well" said the Guard "Would you be willing to go through training, and take the oath, conscripting yourself to the permanent employ of the Purple Dragons?"

"Ahhh...noooo" replied Alya "But thank you for offering.  Would it be possible to obtain some sort of monetary compensation for our troubles?"

"I will ask the captain of the guards and get back to you on that" the Sargent replied. With that they handed him the tabards from them and he showed them to the exit.

"Well" said Alya "what now?"

"I've got an urgent appointment with a tub of rose scented bathwater at the temple" said Darian "then we have that appointment at the Flagon Held High tonight."

A carrying a piece of paper came up to Alya "Are you Alya Silverleaf?" he asked.

"Yes" said Alya, "I am."

"This is for you." he replied "It's from the Loremistress Filani."

Alya opened the note "Please come to my tower at your next earliest convenience." it read "I have information which may be of interest to you." Alya tipped the messenger a few copper.

"Huh," she replied "It looks like I've got an appointment as well. you want to come along Calrom?"

"Uhh, no" he replied "I've had my fill of that door thanks, I think I'll be taking some more baths myself."


----------



## biorph

*Interesting Findings*

Alya arrived at The Tower of Wit and Woe giving the elven guard on duty a wink and proceeded up the stairs.

"Ahh Alya" said Filani as the bard walked into the room "I have some news for you about House Vladaam."

"Really?" said Alya "What have you learned."

"There are whispers that they have a somewhat...unsavory reputation in certain circles.  There have even been hints linking them to followers of Bane.  Nothing concrete of course all just rumors you understand." Said Filani with a knowing look.

"Of course." replied Alya with a knowing look of her own.  "Did you find anything else out?"

"I found someone you might want to talk to" she said "His name is Nicolon Regulis.  I can arrange a meeting for you if you like."

"Yes," Said Alya "If you could tell him I'll meet him at The Flagon Held High tomorrow at I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course" said Filani, "I was able to confirm, the elf in care, at the temple of Gond is definitely asking for you, you should make some time to see him when you get a chance."

"Interesting" said Alya "I'll be sure to visit him soon.  If you hear anything else of interest please let me know."

"Of course" replied Filani, and Alya showed herself out.  

After leaving the tower dusk was approaching so she made haste to the Flagon Held High.  Darian and Calrom were already waiting for her.  After minute later a rather large half-orc came into the bar pulled up a chair and sat down at their table.

"Now whuts dis I hear about joo havin' some stuff for sale?" he asked

"Ahh yes" replied Darian "We've got something you especially might be interested in."  He pulled out the magical greataxe the party had found earlier. "It's enchanted to make it better and hitting and cutting when it does."

The half -orc looked at it appraisingly "Well, I'll give ya a tousun for it."

"A thousand indeed, the Priests of Gond would charge four thousand at least." replied Darian.

"Yeah well, a tousun is all you get frum me" replied the half orc.

"Come now" began Alya "It is certainly a good deal, would you be willing to pay oh say...fifteen hundred, so we can have a nice even three way split?"

The half-orc thought for a minute.  Alya didn't think he was half as dumb as he was pretending to be.  " 'lright fifteen hundurd." he said.  The two spit into their hands and shook on it.  The orc took out a large sack of coins and placed them on the table picking up the axe.  "If ya ever got more stuff ya'd like to dump, jus left me know." he smiled and walked out of the bar with his new acquisition over his shoulder.

"You know" said Darian "I just realized, Fiddle's going to be really jealous."

"Why?" said Alya

"Well," he said in a low voice "When the little thief tries to join the local guild and he tells them who he's with their probably going to tell him 'Them, oh yeah, we knew them, good customers, been working with them for a while.' " Darian smiled to himself at the thought.


----------



## biorph

*An Interesting Turn*

As they parted for the night Alya gave Darian her share of the gold they had recieved for selling the axe.  The two hundred and fifty gold was half way there to what Darain had asked to cover the time and effort he was going to have to put in to make her cloak.  She'd have to owe him the rest until she got more.

The next day after several more baths to get any remaining smell out she went with Calrom to see this insane elf at the Temple of Gond.  They arrived at the temple.  Alya asked about Sully, but apparently she had just missed the gnome again, she wondered if he was having...a good time.  

As she and Calrom were  led into the room where the man was kept "Be careful" warned the priest, "He can get violent at times, I don't know what seeing you will do to him."

"This is so strange." said Alya "I don't even know this man."  The priest shrugged noncommittally and opened the door.

As they walked in the man sitting on the floor seemed to look through them. "Hello," said Calrom "How are you today?"

"The birds, the birds, I don't hear them sing anymore." began the man "All dead just like my porridge.  The darkness inside my mind, I'm not right in there.  Will you play jax with me, I'm up to fivesies. La La La." Finished the man and clapped his hands.

Alya bent down "Hello sir, you've been asking to see me."

At once the man's voice took on a tone of urgency he grabbed Alya and started shouting "THE KEY! THE KEY! YOU MUST FIND THE KEY, IT LIES DEEP BENEATH VLADAAM! Do you think my nails are pretty, I chew them myself.  I had a puppy once, he used to smell like cookies." As the man returned to his lunacy Alya was unable to rouse more from him that made any sense.

"Well" said Alya slightly sardonically "I guess we know for sure who has the key to the Banes."
................................................................................................................................................

Later that Night Alya went alone to The Flagon Held High to meet with Nicolon, Darain was had sent word that he would be busy crafting, and Alya was worried that Calrom might have some weird moral objection like he did with taking Kesherack's stuff back in the tomb.

'Of course if we had listened to him' thought Alya 'There might have been at least one less dead halfling.'

As she entered she say a young man with curly blonde hair who waved her over.  She remembered seeing him in the bar the night before.  

"Can I...help...you sir?" she asked demurely
"Are you Miss Alya?" the man asked in a low voice while playing with his hair

"Indeed" she replied quietly "you were sent by Filani?"

"Yes, she told me you wanted to meet with me?" He replied.

"Indeed I did, tell me, what do you know of House Vladaam?" she asked

"Yes, she told me you'd ask about that." he said "I was doing some uh...work...there when I was caught by the guards and thrown in their dungeon.  They kept me there for a good long time until I was able to escape, I'd love to see them taken down a couple of notches."

"Really..."said Alya, she liked him more already "Did you ever encounter a mummified hand in your time there? Possibly magic?"

"No." Said Nicolon "Not personally, but if they have one I know where to find it.  They've got a huge vault underneath the house where they store all the items they collect that have magic."

"Interesting," she replied "Is there anything else?" 

"The house is always fully guarded, the guards never come into town when they go off duty, but stay at a barracks on the property.  Also I know for a fact they work with the Zhentarim, but of this last one I have no proof other than my word." he said.  

"Interesting." She replied "My friends have some work we need to do, but we are very...interested...in this information.  We'll contact you probably sometime next week and we can discuss this further...more privately."

"I am at your service milady." he said and with a toss of his golden curls downed his ale and walked out.

'Well well well' thought Alya 'This certainly is INTERESTING, I wonder what the others will say when I tell them.'


----------



## diaglo

*The Halfling Mafia*

Fiddle got up earlier than the rest of the party. He left the Windlord's Rest in search of his *[contact]*. The letter Mouse gave him still sealed in his haversack.

Grimwold's Revenge. Home of the frogs. Every time Fiddle went here he was careful not to step on one or three of the critters. They were everywhere. Grimwold, the now long dead wizard, must have _polymorphed_ half the town. But of course that was only rumor.

Fiddle called to the innkeeper, "I'm a friend of Mouse."

"Take a seat over there," the grubby man replied. "Someone will be with you shortly."

Time passed. Fiddle twiddled his thumbs.

"Hello, there," a friendly voice said. "I'm Tristan. You have a letter for me?"

Fiddle turned to see a sandy haired hin with a mischevious smile on his face. He handed over the letter.

Tristan broke the seal and read its contents. Afterwards, they chatted for several minutes. Fiddle was very happy.

He reached into his haversack and withdrew two items. He quickly passed them under the table. Fiddle finished his drink and rose to leave.

"Thank you so much," Fiddle beamed. "I'll be back tomorrow."


----------



## diaglo

“Thanks again,” Fiddle said to the innkeeper as he left. The man ignored the hin.

Fiddle left to visit Richter, riding Marmaduke, on the outskirts of Tilverton. The cemetery was a creepy place even this early in the day. While there he filled Father Belmont in on what had happened and what he knew of the Banewarrens, Sybil, the Zhents, the recovery of the Sword of Truth or what he guessed it to be, and the Moandites. And also about Hedrack and the bone ring. Fiddle consciously left out his new friends about town, the Halfling Mafia.  

In the later part of the day Fiddle went to visit the bard, Jevvica Noir, again, at the Flagon Held High. Telling her exactly the same things he told Richter. And expecting his reward for the information. But he wasn't holding out for much of that. Just bragging rights for having discovered so much. 

The next day saw him catching up with Vlad and Sully. Before again disappearing to gather what he could in the way of gossip and rumors. If nothing else Fiddle was a curious being.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

biorph said:
			
		

> "Not so fast there big man." said a voice from the shadows. "You're assuming we're going to let any of you leave here alive."  Out from the shadows stepped three halflings in black leather with swords drawn and a murderous look in their eye.




Nooobody expects the halfling Inquisition!


----------



## diaglo

"Brandobaris be praised," Fiddle said as he rose.

The Hand of Misadventure smiled and nodded. He then exited the building. Tristan winked and vanished too.

Fiddle returned to the Windlord's Rest. Calrom looked very much uneasy with this city life. Darian was at the Rose Altar. He would be for 7 more days crafting some items for Alya and himself. Vlad, well, Vlad had been busy with the ladies. Brandobaris only knew when or where he would return. Alya sat to the side with a mischevious smile on her face. And Sully...

Sully had a new friend. An elf straight out of the woods with a snow leopard at his side. Arendel was his name. A follower of Silvanus, a druid. He had come to Tilverton to see for himself if the rumors were true. The humans of Mistledale were logging in Cormanthor. And instead of just taking what was necessary to survive, they were turning a profit by selling the wood to Cormyr and beyond. Arendel was not happy to be in Tilverton.

"Ho, Calrom and Alya," Fiddle called out. "What news?"

They relayed their tale of the past few days. And everyone introduced themselves to Arendel.

"We need the Hand of Danar," Alya said. "It is in House Vladaam. And Nicolon Regelis will help us find it. But we will wait for Darian to finish his work first."

"So let me understand," Fiddle smirked. "You told Nicolon about the Hand. And you told him he has at least 7 days before we need him. You realize he is a thief."

"Filani will vouch for him," Alya rebuked. "She suggested him to us. He works for some organization for good."


----------



## diaglo

*Magic item machine*

Alya borrowed nearly all the party's funds. And close to 90% of Fiddle's _mithril_ fund with a promise to repay it. She went to find Darian.

Time passed (7 days). Alya returned from the Rose Altar with a new cloak and headband. Darian stopped by the Windlord's Rest too.

"So what do we do now?" Darian asked.

"We are going to try to purchase the Hand from the Vladaam estate," Alya answered.

"And if that fails we have a backup plan," Fiddle winked.

"I'm not listening...hhhhhhmmklhaklsndfklhshh" Darian tried to drowned out the conversation about illegal activities.

"This is Arendel," Sully interrupted and quickly changed the subject.

Introductions went around and Darian excused himself again. He would be at the Rose Altar when the party needed him. He had some more crafting to complete.


----------



## diaglo

*What must we do to get a little Hand job done right*

Alya and Sully went off to try and persuade Navanna Vladaam to sell them the Hand of Danar. Alya also left inquiries for Nicolon Regelis. Nicolon would meet her later in the alleyway behind the Flagon Held High at midnight. According to street talk a notorious place for an ambush. And to top the day off right, Alya asked Fiddle to accompany her to Grimwold's Revenge. She had knowledge of the local thieves guild that she thought Fiddle might find interesting.

In the meantime Fiddle, Calrom, and Arendel talked of the forest. 

"You know what I miss," Calrom started. "Sleeping under the stars without all this rack and smell. Gods does this place stink."

"Well," Fiddle agreed. "You did enter the rectum of the beast." 

Arendel rolled his eyes. "Do you have to be so graphic? I mean really it is bad enough these humans rape the forest. But to picture their home as an living breathing animal is enough to make me retch. They don't deserve to be compared to something so wholesome."

"An elves do?" Calrom added. His hatred for the elves beginning to show.

"I heard that half-elf," Alya quipped as she returned.

"Half-elf?" Fiddle questioned. He could see the similarities now. "It makes sense now."

"Coming Fiddle?" Alya exchanged a few items and headed back out.

"See you around," Fiddle got up and sprinted to catch up.

Grimwold's Revenge was a  short walk.

"You don't have any money so how are you going to buy the Hand of Danar?" Fiddle finally asked. "You spent all the money."

"Well now that you mention it," Alya smiled. "You are right. That's why we are falling back on plan 2. I'm going to ask the Thieves Guild if it is okay. I don't want to get into more trouble. Plus I want to see what they might know about the Vladaam Estate."

"Great tell more people about the value of the item," Fiddle kept that thought to himself. "What do we know about Nicolon? I don't trust him and I don't know him."

"Filani knows someone who knows him," Alya said. "He works for some organization..."

"You told me that already," Fiddle threw his hands up. "I don't like this."

"We're here," Alya turned away.


----------



## diaglo

*Fiddle pimps his Story Ho*

Alya threw open the door and strode up to the bar. Fiddle ducked in behind her.

"What'll ya have?" the angry barman growled.

Alya flashed a smile and tossed her hair side to side. "We are here to discuss some *business*," she whispered.

"Huh?" the barman missed the hint. "Go find your own table."

"I'll have an ale," Fiddle laughed. He turned around and scanned the clientele. Three half-orcs played cards in the corner. They drank heavily and shouted even louder than the barman. Fiddle thought to distract Alya. No need for her to know he already knew the Halfling Mafia. 

"The lady elf here is offering some business." Fiddle bellowed.

One of the half-orcs turned. "What'd you say?"

"Not now Fiddle," Alya stamped the ground.

"I said she is looking for some *business*"  Fiddle yelled again.
	

	
	
		
		

		
			





"ThoKK like," the half-orc stood up. "Come sit with us."

Alya glared at Fiddle and strode over to the table. Fiddle quickly passed the barman a note as he picked up his ale. _ Tristan, we need to talk     Fiddle _. By now the Alya had worn the half-orcs down. She needed a rescue. Fiddle approached. "Barkeep a round of drinks for my new friends."

Soon Fiddle needed a rescue. He ended up drinking with the orcs. They easily outdrank the hin. (Tristan came and went but Fiddle missed it. And Alya didn't know him.)

Fiddle woke with a herd of Oliphants running behind his eyeballs. Something had also sucked the moisture from his mouth and throat.


----------



## diaglo

Nicolon's plan was simple. He would lead the party into the Vladaam Estate. He knew when the guards would change shifts and a general layout of the Mansion. He cautioned against staying too long or taking extra valuables. And he begged to accompany the party. Everyone covered themselves in black face. Darian was left out of the whole caper.

Arendel also offered to help. Sully, Fiddle, Alya, and Calrom checked their gear and left Tilverton before dark. They assaulted the Estate at midnight. Only Fiddle had a light source. The wall around the grounds was solid and over 12 ft tall. Arendel assumed wolverine form. Sully became a pixie and Alya a trog. Calrom tossed a grapnel over the wall.

Sully picked Fiddle up and they flew to the top of the wall. They looked around. A large dog headed their way. Sully and Fiddle went back down.

"Dog," Sully whispered to Arendel.

The druid-wolverine climbed up the wooden wall. Fiddle scurried up the rope to watch. He checked his saps. Sully hovered nearby. Calrom and Alya also made for the wall.

Arendel climbed into the compound. He made eye contact with the dog, wolf really. It sat. Sully deposited Fiddle next to the beast. Whap, whap, whap Fiddle attempted to subdue the canine before it could alert the guards.

Thump, thump. Two arrows sprouted from the wolves neck. It was dead. Calrom shrugged. The party quickly crossed the open ground. They made for the building. So far so good. Nicolon indicated a window.

Alya silenced the area around her with her magic. She punched a hole in the window. The glass scattered into the room. A library. Everyone climbed inside. Nicolon headed for a corner. He rolled the rug back and started to pull up a hatch. Sully cast a spell to detect magical auras. Fiddle scanned the room. Some very valuable stuff. He didn't have time for a thorough search, so he tossed one golden candelabra into his haversack as everyone descended into the dark. Sully cast light on his hat.

"How is Nicolon seeing?" Fiddle thought to himself. He trusted this guy less and less.


----------



## diaglo

*Finders, keepers*

"How are..." FIddle whispered as he descended the stairs.

"Shhh," Nicolon replied. He pointed down a long hallway.

The others were crowded around in a door. No one moved. Fiddle crept forward. He checked the door. It was locked, but not trapped.

"Not that way," Nicolon said. "That leads to the prison. The vault is down there."

Fiddle moved ahead. A dart flew out from across the way. Fiddle tumbled forward. Another fired past.  Fiddle stood and looked back at Nicolon. He couldn't see the man's face, but Fiddle swore he was smiling.

Fiddle noticed several more possible traps. But no way to disarm them. He tumbled forward again. Two more late darts missed him. He reached the vault door. He waved for the others. Fiddle moved away from the door. Another dart sailed over his head.

Alya chanted. "There are 4 more darts," she said. "Best we follow Fiddle's exact footsteps."

Fiddle examined the door. No traps. But it was locked. Sully pulled out a wand. "CLick," the gnome whispered in draconic. The door was unlocked.

Fiddle turned the knob and BOOOOOmMMMMm.

Arendel called on the healing might of nature. Fiddle felt better. Still he pulled and drank a potion of his own.

An empty room. Another set of heavy iron doors guarded the true vault. Fiddle checked out the room first and then the door. No traps or secret ways out. The door was locked.

"CLick," Sully said again. The door was unlocked. "Maybe on the way out we can free some of the prisoners as a distraction."

Fiddle nodded. He moved into the vault. He quickly slammed and locked the door behind himself.


----------



## diaglo

*Locomotion...next stop railroad station Alpha*

Bundled pieces of artwork, an iron chest, and...the door behind Fiddle CLicked and in came Alya armed.

"The door closed and locked behind you, Fiddle," Sully said. "We thought it was another trap."

"Thank you for rescuing me," Fiddle gasped. He tried to hide the mess of his unwrapping. "I didn't find the key in this mess."

"What are you looking for?" Nicolon asked from the doorway. "That's not what you came for." He looked hard at Calrom.

"We have to make it look like a burglary," Calrom said as he carried a large portrait from the room. Arendel waited out in the Hallway.

"Got it," Alya replied. She had recovered a small bronze box. She departed, too.

Sully followed. Fiddle dropped his haversack over the iron chest and ran to catch up. Fiddle opened the door to the prison. An empty room. Across the way was another door.

Wahhhh wahhhh wahhhh Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert.

"CLick," Sully shouted at the far door.

A guard burst into the room, "Stop thieves."

THUmp, thump. Calrom hit him with two arrows. Everyone else ran for the stairs. It was a mad, mad scramble. Fiddle ran for all he was worth, which hopefully with the chest was a lot more.

Sometime between reaching the wall and climbing, Arendel, Sully, and Alya had used several spells. Several more guards were immobilized. None were slain. There were no tracks. Calrom had used some magic of his own to cover that potential problem.

The party scattered. Fiddle ran and ran. After a while he slowed to a walk. He found a nice hiding space and emptied the haversack. It was a complicated lock, but Fiddle opened it. Gold. Over a thousand gold lions. He scooped them into the haversack and left it hidden in the brush. He circled back to the rendezvous spot.

"How do we get back inside without looking suspicious?" Calrom asked.

"Can I see it?" Nicolon pleaded. "I did just risk my life for this thing."

Alya hemmed and hawed. 

Fiddle pulled out the candelabra, "Here it is. How did you see without a light? You are human, right?"

 Nicolon tapped his head. "With these." He wore some lenses.

"I want some of those," Fiddle muttered.

Eventually Alya gave in. She pulled out the bronze box. "It is here." She tucked it back...

Poooofff. The starlight vanished. Fiddle attacked the Darkness.

"He's casting," Sully yelled out. Sully used another wand. The _darkness_ was gone and so was Nicolon. "Dimension Door."


----------



## diaglo

*into the bowels of the beast*

The party searched, but had no luck finding the double-crosser.

"Now what?" Sully asked. "Do we camp out or go back inside?"

"I'm for camping out," Calrom and Arendel said in unison. Fiddle nodded too.

"But we need to let Darian know," Alya dissented. "And we need to get our horses."

"I guess I agree some of us were seen," Fiddle said. "And Nicolon will be ahead of us and possibly will enter the Banewarrens. Who even knows what group if any he was working for. I mean we have the Zhents, the Moandites, the Church of Lathander, the Harpers, the Drow, and possibly like Filani said about Nicolon yet another organization not to mention Himool and Us.   So how do we get in?"

"We know a way," Alya started to say.

"NOT Again," Calrom complained. "I'm still not sure I got the stink off of my boots."

The party entered a gully which passed under the wall and into the sewers. The grate was ruined enough to allow access. Calrom led the way. They came to a juncture. Climbing out was not an option here.

"Which way now," Sully asked.

"I don't know," Calrom admitted. "I left my map back at the Inn. North?"

The party went North. Three attempts later. They came across an Urban Legend. A Giant Crocodile.

"Crrickey," Arendel said. "Now that's a croc."

Everyone looked at him.

"What?" he replied. "I suppose you want me to handle this."

Arendel hummed a soft tune. The croc rolled over. The party skirted around the beast. A few minutes later they found a way up to the surface. The grate overhead was rusty. Fiddle tried to open it. No luck.

Alya and Sully went to work cleaning and unlocking the latch with magic. Fiddle still couldn't budge it. He looked down at Alya.

"Allow me," she smiled. She easily tossed the grate aside. "Dainty I tell you."

Fiddle tumbled into the street. Lucky for him it was still very late, well very early really. A horse and cart rolled past. Fiddle hid alongside. The others came out of the sewers. Only a drunk noted their passing.


----------



## diaglo

*Something ain't right...I was framed.*

"Oooooo, what a stench," the innkeeper complained. "I'll assume it was Purple Dragon business that took you down there again." He sent his staff to fetch some water.

"We will need to leave early," Alya told him. They settled their bill before getting cleaned up.

After a good soak the party bedded down. Fiddle tossed and turned. When he woke he set off for the Rose Altar.

"Darian, have you finished your work?" Fiddle asked. "We need to leave in a hurry. We were double-crossed by Nicolon when we stole..."

"I'm not listening," Darian hummed to himself.

The party left for the Barrow Mounds in Mistledale. Arendel and Calrom were more than happy to leave Tilverton. They rode hard and after a couple days put Cormyr and the Thunder Peaks behind them. On the evening of the third day they saw smoke rising from the trail ahead. An hour later found them staring at 4 burning husks. Wagons. and an ambush scene.  A human skull with a broken sword embedded marked the area. The flesh had been peeled off . Blood was everywhere. And so were arrows. Both human and elven made, but no bodies.  The wagons had once carried logs. They were obviously destined for Cormyr. The druid found the tracks of the victors.

"Damn, dirty elves," Calrom spat. "I say we follow them."

"They mean nothing to me," Arendel added. "They probably deserved what they got."

"I don't know," Fiddle supplied a little more information. "We found a hole to the Underdark around here. We fought off a swarm of gibberlings. Could be the Drow did this. Still I think we have our work cut out for us already."

The party chased the tracks back to the familiar hole.

"Maybe they have some prisoners," Sully hinted. "We should at least try and save them."

"A vote then," Darian spoke up. "All those for tracking the elves into the Underdark." "Against"

Darian, Alya, Arendel, and Fiddle voted Against. Sully and Calrom for.

"To Peldan's Helm then," Alya concluded. "We can resupply and then hit the Barrow Mounds the next day. I want to see if Eliar is interested in the Orc's spellbook."

The party made camp back at the burning wagons.


----------



## diaglo

*Back to basics*

"Hello in the Keep," Fiddle yelled up.

"Hello on the road," the guard called back. "Who goes there?"

"The Stormslayers," Alya answered.

The guard opened up and let them in. The picture on the wanted poster had faded, but the charges against the gnome were still there.

The party made for the Man with Fire in His Hands Inn. Wulf greeted them with a smile.

A tale was already in progress and the common room was packed. Himool and the Company of the Burning Brand had returned from the Dwarven Hold in the Thunder Peaks. Dorik Stonebeard and Carl sat with the elven lass. She was horribly scarred. Her face looked like it had melted. The priestess of Sune was nowhere in sight. Fiddle went to listen.

Alya and Darian made small talk with Carl. A black dragon


"DRagon did you say," Fiddle interrupted.

Alya left to visit Eliar and came back some time later. The party stayed up late into the evening.

In the morning Fiddle visited Mouse.

"Thanks for the letter of introduction," he said. "I've got something for you. But don't show anyone from Cormyr. They might want it back."

Fiddle handed him the candelabra. He went back to the Inn.

"We ready to hit the Barrows," Fiddle asked.

"Nope," Alya replied. "I need to visit the old ruins."



"BUt, we hurried up to get here so we could make it before Nicolon," Calrom said. "I don't understand."

"YOu can go without me," Alya answered. "This shouldn't take me long."

:smack forehead:

"I'll show you where I killed the Dragon," Fiddle remarked to Arendel and Calrom.

"What about the God Nail you left behind?" Calrom seemed very interested.

The party set off Northwest instead of Southwest. They reached the ruined Moathouse just before dusk. The sound of military drills and sparring coming to their ears.

"Don't move a muscle," an elven voice called out from cover.


----------



## diaglo

*Hurry up and Wait*

"I'm not moving," Calrom called back.

Everyone else followed his lead. An elf stepped out from behind a tree.

"We have you covered," the elf moved closer. "Why are you here. (rhetorical)You can come with me." The elf directed this to Alya and Arendel. "The others may not follow."

Alya told him what she was after. She was in search of a mentor. Eliar suggested she try this area. He thought the elves would be here training. Arendel was interested in learning something too. The conversation soon faded too far away to hear.

While the elves were away, Fiddle took a peek around the Moathouse. A few animal tracks, but nothing else new. Calrom, Sully, and Darian joined him. After some time Alya returned.

"Arendel and I are going off to train with the elves," she said. "We will be gone for a tenday."

"How long?" Calrom asked stunned. "What are we to do?"

"Go visit the Barrows if you wish, just leave a message for us at Peldan's Helm," she turned and vanished back into the woods.

"Well, I'm glad we hurried up to wait," Fiddle sarcastically retorted. "Being a hero is such hard work. Go here. Wait for Alya to spend your money on magic for herself. Steal a Hand she says is important. Go there. And wait for her to train. I sure hope this is important. Darian what do you say? Is your _Geas_ causing you any discomfort?"

"No, I'm alright," Darian replied. "I'll find something to do at the Keep. I'm just worried we may be too late."

The party trudged back to the Keep to wait.


----------



## diaglo

*The Broken Seal*

Day nine: Darian woke with a start. He roused the rest of the party.

"We must go now," Darian rushed. "And fast. Kalerecent said someone was trying to open the door. Then his voice went dead."

The others gathered their things. Sully scribbled a quick note and handed it to Wulf to give to Alya. They rode hard. Although, they still made camp when they neared the Barrows. No one wanted to enter in the middle of the night. The morning saw them at the entrance to the tomb they suspected to be the Banewarrens. Fiddle checked for new tracks. Some creatures had definitely been here. Some wore boots. Some he didn't recognize. They cautiously crept into the tunnel.

They came across the picks and tools and the turn in the tunnel. Again no troubles, but still the air was thick with anticipation. They plowed on. The tomb was quiet. Too quiet.

As Darian shone his lantern into the room with the sealed door, signs of a battle were evident. Body parts in plate with the symbol of the Sun...The party had found Kalerecent. Sully looked for magical auras. Fiddle checked for booby traps. Nothing. The victors had stripped the paladin and left him where he fell. He had been slain at least a day ago. Right about the time Darian had received his message.

The Sealed Door was open. Fiddle climbed the stairs and moved into position on the side of the door. He commanded Marmaduke to Defend him. The others followed close behind. Fiddle tumbled passed the door and looked inside. Nothing. He hand signaled to Marmaduke to Come. The room was empty and free of traps. He stairway led up across from the door. Fiddle checked the stairs. The party filtered into the room. Fiddle signaled for Marmaduke again.

"Grrrrrr," Marmaduke growled. He lunged as a figure closed into Fiddle's light. An ape. A very large Ape with nasty claws. A dire creature. Two arrows sailed out of the darkness from the right. Marmaduke was down.


----------



## diaglo

*Arrrrr...be a pirate or walk the plank*

Darian ran up the stairs. He took a shot at the Ape with his crossbow. Fiddle tumbled backwards down the stairs behind Darian.   The Ape advanced on Darian. Both claws banged against the cleric's armor. A gnoll with a bow rolled around the top of the stairs. He fired his bow into the party. Calrom felt the impact. Sully tossed some dust into the air. The Ape lost sight. The gnoll was just more visible. Calrom returned fire. Two of his arrows found weak spots.

Darian dropped his crossbow and clobbered the Ape with his mace. Fiddle tumbled to Darian's side. He thrust home Lightning Strike and Hole Punch. The blind Ape's entrails gushed out. The Ape was dead before he fell. The gnoll choose Fiddle as his target. One arrow hit home. Calrom fired over Fiddle's head and into the gnoll. Sully tried again to blind the gnoll.

Darian closed on the gnoll. Fiddle tossed Hole Punch. It scraped the gnoll's leg.

"Arrrr," Fiddle called. "I'll make you walk the plank. Bow, dire ape companion, light armor. Ranger."

The gnoll wasted his efforts on Darian. Calrom fired again. Sully finished the gnoll off with three powerful bolts of magic.

Darian looked for magical auras, while Fiddle pillaged the corpse. Darian then healed Calrom with the crack wand.

The bow was all a glow. It was so powerful Calrom couldn't even budge it.

Fiddle handed Sully a recent newsletter from out of the gnolls pack. It was from Tilverton. It named 2 elves, a human, a halfling, and a gnome as thieves.

"But they weren't in elven form," Sully started to say. "Nicolon...he sold us out."


----------



## biorph

diaglo said:
			
		

> "Wait for Alya to spend your money on magic for herself. Steal a Hand she says is important. Go there. And wait for her to train.




You forgot wait for Alya to heal my wounds, wait for Alya to carry my unconcious body to safety, and wait for Alya to lie to get us all out of trouble.  

Of course if you'd rather not wait...


----------



## diaglo

*Traps R Us*

Four passages sprouted off from the room the party now occupied. Three of them had stairs leading down. Darian shined his lantern down each in turn. The passage without a stairway was coated in frost. Finally the party chose the north most stairway. Fiddle searched for trip wires and such. He checked the integrity of the steps. When he was satisfied he descended. On the last step he scanned the floor ahead. It was smooth. Too smooth.

"Somethings not right," Fiddle called back. "Do we have any dead weight?" 

The party dropped the Dire Ape body onto the floor.

SLLLlaaammmm

A block fell into place blocking their view. It began to slide down the hallway. A couple seconds later a large crash was heard.

"AGGGGAAAAIIINNNN," Sully and Calrom said in unison.

They repeated the experiment with the Gnoll body. Same result. Fiddle paid careful attention to the trigger and reaction mechanism of the trap.

"I can't begin to guess how many more times this will work," Fiddle concluded. "And I'm not going out there to find out if it is done. Unfortunately we don't have any more bodies."

"Where is that cow familiar when you need one," Sully whistled.

Sully in pixie form flew Fiddle to safety inside the room. Fiddle checked out the perimeter of the trap and made marks. He then traveled to the end of the room. A huge pit of darkness. He tried looking down. His sight didn't reach the bottom. Sully had no luck either. They turned to look around. Another passage continued East. Sully tossed some magical lights down this passage. They jumped about. At the limit of the spell, they showed a stairway up and a passage into a room with another of those spiral tower thingies. The recon team flew back to the others.  The party tried the next stairway. Fiddle repeated his routine of checks. No point in being foolish. Again at the bottom of the steps he found something unusual. It looked like a spring trap. He gathered what was left of the Gnoll's things and dumped them onto the floor. Next he emptied his haversack of coins. 30lbs of coins and 10lbs of gear lay on the trap. Nothing. He gathered the coins back up without stepping into the room. He tried to jam something into the spring. He had heard of a prank where you placed coins in the jamb of a door. He used his copper pieces to see if it would work. They held.

"If only Alya, Vlad, and Arendel would get here sooner," Fiddle thought out loud.


----------



## diaglo

next update will be after Sunday. Sully's player will be absent, but the PC will be in action. depending on who runs him expect either crazy antics, straight efficiency, or power thrusts of magic. i'm guessing though i don't know that arendel will be absent as well. (arendel is sully's nephew in the real world)

vlad may or may not be there.

alya, darian, calrom, and fiddle are definites.


----------



## biorph

*Meanwhile*

As Alya and Arendel walked back from the intensive training course they were thankful they saw little trouble on the road.  Both of them were so sore they probably couldn't string their bows much less draw them.

 "By Fenmarel, I swear I more sore now than I was after a night a Castle Kragg" commented Alya.

"Why?" asked Arendel "Did you sleep on a hard bed there too?"

Alya smiled to herself 'Something like that' She thought.  "So why is it you can't imbue your arrows too?" she asked changing the subject.

"I honestly have no idea, considering we cast some of the same spells and all." Said the Druid "It's probably years of tradition, if we communed with nature more instead of just caring about it's destruction, I'd probably have spent most of my time throwing spells instead of just perfecting my aim and learning how to sharpen my arrow heads."

"Don't worry," Said Alya "You didn't miss much, my fingers are still swollen from all the wiggling they had to do, and I I've still got a migraine from all that darn mental focusing.  But it's not a total wash for you.  If you ever decide to take it up, you can still pursue the training.  Besides, for a ten-day of hell, we did get some nice stuff."

"True" said Arendel thumping on his new wooden breastplate "Who knows how much it might have cost me to FIND some darkwood, let alone get it fashioned into armor.  But aren't the enchanted arrows a bit redundant for you? Your bow is already magic; gods know the entire camp heard it scream out in anger more than a few times."

"Heh" said Alya laughing "Yeah I'll have to make sure to thank Fiddle for that when we get back to the keep.  Thanks to that loan he gave me, I was certainly the envy of the camp, even if I wasn't the stealthiest person there.  I figure I've got half a quiver of magic arrows, I'll offer them to Fiddle, and if he doesn't want them, I'll just sell them and give him the five hundred for it."

"You think anything happened in the Barrows while we were away?" Asked the druid.

"Probably" replied the bard "I just hope they had the good sense to fly there using Sully's staff rather than taking the full day to go by horseback."


----------



## biorph

*Movement*

As the two elves approached the Peldan’s helm they were hailed by a guard tower along the wall.

“Ho, there on the road!” someone called out.

“And a druid too.” Replied Alya.

After a minute a confused sounding voice responded “Who goes there?”

“Two members of the Stormslayers” replied the bard.

“Ahh your party left without you yesterday, they were in great haste it seemed” said the guard.

“Then we should hurry to catch them.” replied Alya. ”May we pass?”

“One moment” said the guard, and after about minute the gate opened and the two were allowed to enter.

The two elves quickly made their way to the inn.

“Ahh, Mistress Alya” said Wulf “You have just missed your friends”

“So I heard” said Alya “Did they leave a note for me?”

“Yes” said Wulf and handed the two of them a note with Sully’s handwriting.

‘GET TO THE BARROWS QUICKLY!’ was all the note said.

The druid and bard ran to their horses and went off, with the leopard riding on the back of the Arendel’s.  They hurried to the barrows hoping that they were not too late.


----------



## JoeBlank

biorph said:
			
		

> "Probably" replied the bard "I just hope they had the good sense to fly there using Sully's staff rather than taking the full day to go by horseback."



Alya must have failed her bardic knowledge checks concerning the Staff of Air and the 3.5 Fly spell. The spell only last 1 min/lvl now. 

Staff of Air (22 c, performs _light_, _levitate_, _feather_ _fall_, _gust of wind_ at 1 charge each; _fly_, _lightning_ _bolt_ at 2 charges each, caster level 7)


----------



## biorph

*Ahh yes*

Ahh, yes, now I recall, that when we moved into the middle of the third age and the great  shift took place, this power of the staff was cut from 7 hours to 7 minutes.  So whatever DID happen to Sully's history now that all those illusionists traded in their books for harps and flutes?


----------



## diaglo

*Signs of things to come*

WOOOffff

"What is it, Marmaduke?" Fiddle asked.

The heavyset dog bounded forward and leapt. He upset a figure. And then preceded to lick Arendel's face. Alya was there too.

"What has happened?," Alya asked. "We saw Kalerecent."

Sully filled in the two newly arrived party members on the latest news. Alya gave Fiddle some magical arrows.

"So we have several choices," Fiddle added. "A long corridor with stairs down, a short corridor with stairs down and a nasty trap, across a trap I have disabled, or into a corridor with ice."

"Ice, did you say," Alya mused. "You know there could be a mephit, a spell, or a white dragon..."

"Dragon," Fiddle smiled.

They chose the disabled trap. Fiddle in the lead. "Are you coming," Fiddle whispered back.

"Go ahead," Darian beckoned. "We will follow in due course."

"Lousy bunch of adventurers these guys are," Fiddle mumbled under his breath.

Fiddle came to a door. He examined it for traps. None noted. And checked the lock. He opened the door. A 10' by 10' room with an orc and a chest. He snapped out of his daydream. And pulled out his picks. He unlocked the door. He signaled for the others to be ready. They stepped backwards instead of forwards. Fiddle shrugged and opened the door. A 10' x 10' room with 2 more doors. One without a means to open it. Fiddle tried anyway. The opposite door was locked. Sully had to break out his wand to open it as the mechanism proved too much for Fiddle. Fiddle opened the door. Six half spears launched into the hallway and Fiddle's level. Four struck the hin, one seriously. A portcullis also fell halfway across the new room.

Sully concentrated. "There is an area of interest on the opposite wall."

Alya, Darian, and Calrom all tried to bend the bars on the portcullis. It wasn't budging. Alya healed Fiddle.

"Next," Arendel said. "How about the long corridor?"

The party agreed. The corridor led to stairs down at the bottom a pit trap was destroyed. The movement of the stone below during a quake had ruined this trap. Two more doors were in the room. Fiddle crept forward to the first one. Again no one followed. Fiddle performed his routine. Traps, lock, open.

""""""""~~~~~~~~""~"~"~"~"~"~"~~""~"~""~"'' Fiddle was stunned. A blast of cold soon washed overhead. He could see a large tentacle faced thing and a large circular shaped room. And then he was staring up at the underside of a large lion like creature that pounced from his periphery.


----------



## diaglo

*Knocking on Death's door.*

The rest of the party reacted outside of Fiddle's senses. Sully cast _Aversion_ on Fiddle to chase away the sphinx. Alya _silenced Fiddle_. Fiddle tried to struggle against the magic washing over him but it was to no avail. He couldn't hear a thing. Everyone attacked the sphinx. They were still not able to see any other adversaries. Although they knew there must be more. Calrom became the magical beast's next target. A mind flayer showed up and attempted to eat Fiddle's brain. Maybe it was Brandobaris' favor, but the Mind Flayer lost the opportunity. Only a single strand of mucous dripped onto Fiddle's face. Sully zapped the area with his Lightning Ball. Fiddle was jolted. He nearly lost control of Lightning Strike. An ogre mage appeared in the midst of the party. It battled Sully, Alya, and Darian with a Huge Greatsword. Arendel and Calrom took  on the sphinx. The druid's leopard held off the mind flayer near Fiddle. Calrom went down.  Fiddle snapped out it and with Arendel calling lightning and Darian swinging his mace they brought down the Ogre Mage. Sully pounded the mind flayer again with magic. It also had several of Alya's arrows sticking in its hide. The mind flayer stunned alya and the leopard as it fled. The party then finished the sphinx. Arendel's bolt of lightning dealing the final blow. They turned back to the Ogre Mage. Darian dumped oil on the thing and Fiddle lit it ablaze as Arendel continued pounding it with lightning for effect.


----------



## diaglo

*Someone eats humble pie*

Fiddle poured a potion down Calrom's throat. It wasn't enough to revive the ranger. So Arendel set about healing him. Of course, the look on Calrom's face when he awoke to find an elf healing him was priceless. Alya didn't let the moment go unannounced. A brief thank you and a few more jabs were added. Calrom downed a potion of his own. He still needed some healing but his wounded ego wouldn't let him admit it to the elves. Darian, Sully, and Fiddle scavenged the remains of the Ogre Mage and Hieracosphinx. A magical sword and shield. But both were too large for anyone to even carry. A key was found on the sphinx. Calrom pocketed it.

The party set off after the Mind Flayer. A blood trail led to a far door across a circular room. This in turn led to a short corridor. The stench from which made the party almost retch. The corridor opened into a strange shaped room. Inside a pile of animal flesh and bones lay. The stench came from the pile. Odd bits of fur and claws hung  from the thing. A ruined golem of some kind. The party followed the blood trail into another corridor before it finally dried up. Some scorch marks in front of a door on the far wall and floor showed signs of a discharged trap. The door was slightly ajar. The party entered. It led to a room with a large column and ball atop. The one Sully and Fiddle had seen before with the _dancing lights_.They quickly scanned the room. The Mind Flayer had gotten away. Fiddle played around with the column some. It was too complex.

The party backtracked to the circular room. Here they found a stairway up. The room was quartered. Calrom and Fiddle investigated the stairs. A lever stood out.

“Everyone stand clear,” Fiddle yelled down to the others. “Marmaduke, Come.”

Calrom pulled the lever. About halfway....RRRRrrreerrrrrr A loud sonic blast struck the tiny control area.

Alya and Darian saw to the wounded.

“We’re not trying that again,” Fiddle said shaking his head.

Alya played around with the support column in the middle of the room. The party knew the lever did something. And Sully flew up to encounter a force field on the ceiling. So they suspected the room rotated. The bard was lucky. She found 4 number switches. She flicked one. The room rotated. 

“Someone flick another one while I’m up there,” Alya commanded.  She then went up the stairs. 

Calrom obliged. The room rotated. Everyone could still see Alya, but the stairs were not available for her to come down. She grabbed the lever. No one below heard anything. However, the look and reaction from the bard told the story. Calrom moved the stairs back for her to come down.

“Nope,” Alya swore. “Lets try something else.”


----------



## diaglo

*Automatons...both living and not*

There was another door in this room. Fiddle checked it. It was safe and unlocked. The party waited for Fiddle to go ahead.

"Are you coming?" Fiddle was getting annoyed. 

"After you," Darian replied. "That's what you do. You are the thief."

"And you are the medic," Fiddle retorted. "But I don't see you healing my wounds without me asking."

"I've got your back,"  Calrom broke the tension and stepped forward.

Fiddle opened the door. Another long corridor with two doors at the end. Fiddle checked out the first door. It was unlocked and untrapped. He looked back to see Calrom at his side. He pushed the door open. Hunks of metal. Multiple small piles of metal. They somewhat resembled larger versions of a scorpion. One was almost intact. Calrom put it in his pack. Alya showed up and started scavenging the rest of the mess. She and Darian split the parts between them.

Fiddle approached the next door. He looked back. The party stood ready. The door was locked and trapped. Fiddle undid the lock, but he couldn't find the means to release the trap. He told the others. They backed up. Fiddle threw up his hands in frustration. He opened the door.

SNApppp. The other door swung wide open. In front of Fiddle stood a monstrous Scorpion. This one was still intact and still active. He quickly slammed the door shut.

"I think I saw another door beyond that construct," Alya said. "It can wait for later."

"It can wait for eternity as far as I'm concerned," Fiddle mumbled under his breath. He was getting sick and tired of being the point man. "You know Vlad does this much better than me."

"Yes, but you are all we have," Darian smirked.

Everyone laughed even Fiddle. He missed Vlad.


----------



## diaglo

*Ice, ice, baby...*

The party returned to the circular room. From there they went back to the room in which they fought the Ogre Mage and Hieracosphinx. There was another door to try here. No point in listening. Whatever was behind it would have heard the battle. Fiddle opened the door. He didn't bother to look at the others. His coin didn't light up the whole place.

"Darian," Fiddle beckoned. "Could you shine your lantern ahead.?"

"Here, Fiddle," Darian replied. "You might as well carry it."

Fiddle adjusted his weapons to take the bullseye lantern. The room was unremarkable. Although the far wall seemed to be made of another kind of stone. It didn't seem natural. But it was solid. As Fiddle found out when he searched it for hidden latches or panels. So that left only two options for the party. The cold room and the portcullis.

"Arendel," Alya thought out loud, "can't druids rust metal or shape stone with their magic?"

"I believe I can," Arendel answered. "But not today. I've not prepared myself for that type of casting. The metal one may still be beyond my powers."

"So I guess it is the cold room then," Sully surmised. "And me without my winter jacket."

They trudged back to the foyer. The cold room with the light was indeed very strange. The icicles and frost surrounded a perfect square area. A magical trap to Fiddle's way of thinking.

"I think you will find this is a magical trap," Fiddle said aloud. "I don't know if I can find the means to disable it."

"Bling, bling," Sully announced. He _dispelled_ the area. "Try it now."

"Still your cloak would be helpful," Fiddle winked. Fiddle ordered Marmaduke to protect Red.

Sully begrudgingly handed over his cloak. Fiddle bundled up and strode forward. Nothing happened.

"It's safe," Fiddle called back. He found a flight of stairs going down, followed by a landing, and then another short stairway with a door. The stairs turned a corner out of sight.


----------



## diaglo

*So much for dainty...fat elf chick sets off trap*

Fiddle checked the stairs for triggers. He had visions of the stairs collapsing and him sliding into oblivion. Nothing. He strode forward to the door. From here he could see the stairs ended at another door. Two short squat statues stood at attention on either side of that door. Fiddle checked out the door near him. No traps but it was locked. He played around with it. And lost a piece of wire in the mechanism.

"Nope," Fiddle sighed and picked up the lantern. "I guess we go home."

"Ahem," Sully held out his hand for the cloak. After donning it. He pointed a wand at the door. Clickk.

Fiddle set down the lantern and drew his weapons. He listened at the door. Silence. He pushed it open and peered inside. Empty, but for 2 more doors. Both of which looked similar to this one. Fiddle guessed they both must be locked. He scanned the floor for trip wires, pits, or tracks. Nothing he could see. He moved to the one on the left and began to examine it. He had just unlocked it when Alya strolled in behind him. BBBAAAmmmMM......HHHhhhiiisssss

Fiddle and Alya  began to cough uncontrollably. The doors were locked and gas poured into the room. Fiddle acted quickly. He unlocked the door in front of him to allow the gas to dissipate. He tumbled into the room gasping for air. He heard the other door open behind him. Sully must have unlocked it. A figure rose up in front of Fiddle. A wispy evil presence. He turned and ran for safety. The poison reeking havoc on his system. He thought he would die. Arendel had saved Alya from succumbing to the gas.

The evil presence glided into the room.

"Begone, foul thing," Darian presented his holy symbol.

The spectre fled. Calrom, Darian, Arendel, Alya, and Fiddle gave chase. With Darian holding it at bay. The others pelted the spirit from a distance. After it was destroyed. Darian restored some of Fiddle's vitality. Still Fiddle was exhausted and had to ride Marmaduke to get around. The party decided to check on the horses and make camp. Calrom wanted to drop off his 15lb metal scorpion.

"Besides," Alya mentioned. "Tomorrow we might be able to get around the portcullis."


----------



## diaglo

*Options are slimming*

The party made its back to camp without incident. The horses were still there unmolested. Calrom, Sully, and Fiddle quickly gathered a meal of prairie dog and wild grains from the surrounding area. It wasn't the best meal, but at least they wouldn't starve. Fiddle took his normal watch. Some time later in the evening their slumber was disturbed by an incredible moan from down in the Barrows. Something they had never heard before. But they had come to expect from the area.

In the morning both Alya and Fiddle came to the realization that the poison had affected much more than they hoped. Darian restored what health he could with Lathander's blessing.

"Well Fiddle I guess not only will you need the church to remove the lamia's touch, but now this poison," Alya noted.

"Yes, the poison will require a stronger magic," Fiddle acknowledged.

Alya looked at the hin for a second quizzically and then a smile came to her face. The party set off again for the Banewarrens. On the way they discovered a bloody mess. Something had been pulverized. Its remains scattered to a distance of 30 feet. There was no telling what it was. The pieces were too small.

No new tracks led to or from the entrance. And the party made it down with no trouble. Fiddle checked periodically for new traps or reset traps. Everything was as it had been. The available options were:


 The giant Scorpion construct and the door beyond
The portcullis trap
The strange wall
The stairway down passed the two statues
And the other door in the gas chamber room

No one wanted to tangle with the Scorpion just yet. And Arendel didn't have the ability yet to destroy the portcullis. And the party still didn't know what to do about the wall. So that left the statues and the gas chamber door. Fiddle chose the gas chamber. His aunt always said, "If  you fall off your horse, the best thing to do is tighten the saddle, get a firmer grip, and get back on cause you never know when the posse is gonna catch you."

Fiddle checked the floor first. The trap was spent. So he moved to the door. It was locked, but safe. He listened. Nothing. So he picked at the hole. It cost him one more pick. Sully motioned with his wand. CLick. Something stirred behind the door.


----------



## diaglo

*Gastronomos...a fine cuisine*

Fiddle pushed the door open. Inside were stacks of barrels and crates. Many were dumped on the floor. A metallic humanoid creature spun its head to the door. It was trapped under a barrel. Its legs destroyed.

"My eye," the thing cried. It sounded pathetic and its accent was very ancient.

The party moved into the small room. They began to search around while Alya attempted to calm the creature. Calrom found a gem which matched the creature's other eye. Fiddle replaced it in the socket.

"I am Geristranomos," the creature continued. "I must get back to work before the Master returns." 

The party continued to speak with Gastronomos for several minutes. They concluded he was quite broken. And they decided not to fix him or return him to an area he could fix himself. They didn't want the traps reset. The did learned several other important pieces:


1) there are outer vaults, inner vaults, and a baneheart

2) Dread Lord fell in the fortress of Jabel Shammar

3) Dread Lord is Malkith

4) there is a sealing rod composed of 2 parts somewhere in the 
banewarrens

5) earthquake broke many things including trapping Gastronomos

6) the combination to the control room is 3,4,1,2

7) Danar had many lieutenants; the lady Parnaith, the Pegasus 
Voastra, Estalada, the angel Bastion, Vallacor, and Solonar

8) Some Lady visited with 2 hairy thugs.

Fiddle suspected Filani as being the woman. But Alya thought otherwise. The thugs could've been the gnoll and his ape. Fiddle also wanted to dump Gastronomos on the block trap. One more thing to add to the pit below.


----------



## diaglo

*The drain is unplugged*

The party closed the door as they left Gastronomos. He wailed in agony to be freed. For the goodly members of the party it would weigh heavily on their conscience. The party approached the 2 statues. They moved. They adjusted position and sank back into attention. Neither was armed. But both looked menacing with their metal and stone frames. Fiddle checked the archway. It was free of traps. The room beyond was bizarre. Two full length glass cylinders with Giant Octopi and a third cylinder with a wheel. At the three foot mark on the wall were located drainage shafts. Fiddle stayed by the door. He wasn't tempting fate.

"That wheel must do something," Arendel surmised. "I bet it will free the Octopi. I can then talk to them."

"By my guest," Darian said. "I'm not going in there." He started to push the door closed.

"Nor I," Alya added. "But we will cover you from here."

Arendel turned to Calrom, "What kind of ranger are you?"

Calrom just shrugged and stood his ground. He offered a rope for Arendel just in case. "We will pull you to safety if it gets too hazardous."

Arendel strode to the wheel. Fiddle mounted Marmaduke and moved to cover the party's rear.

One, two, on the third attempt Arendel finally turned the wheel. A gush of water sprayed into the room. A few seconds later the Giant Octopi traveled up the glass cylinders.  Splooosh.. Sploosh. They landed in the room with Arendel. He transformed into a sea otter and made for the landing. The water current was too strong. Alya, Calrom, and Darian had to pull him to safety.

"They are not very friendly," Arendel said as he resumed elf form. "They are just hungry. Lets get out of here."

Fiddle took the party to the circular room. Alya played with the switches in the middle of the room. She tried the combination Gastronomos had given them. It worked. The lever moved without the horrible sonic blast. The party went to look at the strange wall. It had moved.

"The Scorpion and the Portcullis can wait for another time," Fiddle said. "I believe we have found some of the banes."


----------



## diaglo

*3 Banes to none, Sully saves the day*

A long corridor heading West. The lantern showed 2 doors. Fiddle inspected the first one. It was locked. He tried to open it. He almost had it. He went to the next door. The light showed yet another door further down the hall. He had worse luck with this one. He lost another pick. He pulled out his other set and returned to the first door. Alya broke into song.  Fiddle did it. Click. He listened at the door. Nothing.

"Is everybody ready?" Fiddle turned around to find the others. They were almost out of light range. He threw his hands up in the air. And opened the door. A jug sat on a pedestal. He approached and searched it. It was light weight and sounded as if it was filled with sand.

"Let's try the other door," Alya said out in the hall. "Sully can you open it?"

Fiddle ran to catch up. Calrom opened the second door. Inside was a shelf with a red stone disc placed on it. Sully mumbled under his breath.

"Don't touch it," Sully warned. "It has a magical trap."

"Don't look at me," Fiddle said. "I'm having terrible luck. Besides we are here for the Sword. I know this is a bane. And I know others are searching this tomb also. It would be a shame for it to fall into their hands. But let them deal with the trap."

Fiddle went to the next door. The hallway ended a little further along. It opened into a new chamber. He had no luck unlocking the door. Although he didn't lose a pick. He heard a whirring sound on the other side of the door. Sully motioned at the door with his wand. Click. Another similar room as the first two. This one was occupied by a small floating orb. It was dark and very scary. It detected as magical.

"I've heard about these things," Darian mentioned. "They suck everything they contact into another plane."

Fiddle closed the door.

"Now what do we do?" Alya asked the group. The others settled around to debate their course. Fiddle felt strange leaving an unexplored chamber within earshot. He took Marmaduke and the lantern with him. Of course, that meant no one else had light. The chamber had a stairway down to a door. Fiddle descended. Just as the others started to complain. A bolt of lightning struck Fiddle. A small orb danced about shocking the hin.

"Marmaduke," Fiddle commanded. "Guard Redd." The dog fled to safety. Fiddle tossed Hole Punch at the orb. It missed.

The other party members joined the fracas. Alya hit the orb solid with an arrow. Sully peppered it with bolts of magic. The orb winked out. Darian and Arendel closed to an area nearby. Calrom joined Fiddle on the ground.

"It's a will-o-wisp," Darian called out. "But it has a nasty range."

Alya tried to find the thing. She moved about on the top platform. Sully too covered the area with magical dust. Nothing. Fiddle and Calrom scouted below.

Zaaapppp. Calrom found it. It launched above Sully. Arendel's leopard and Darian took swings at the orb. But only Sully seemed to harm it. He pelted it with more bolts of magic. Calrom, Fiddle, Arendel, and Alya fired errant arrows.

The orb attacked Sully.  Sully finished it with another volley of bolts.


----------



## diaglo

*Read the Writing on the Wall*

"Well, I guess that does it," Darian said. 

Fiddle checked the door. Nothing. He unlocked it and shone the light ahead. A short corridor. It ended with another door. Burn marks covered the floor. Fiddle guessed it was a similar trap to one they had seen yesterday. He was right. An idea struck him. He mounted Marmaduke and rode back to the first door leaving everyone in the dark. He found a lever on the wall. He pulled it. The plug moved back into place. The others caught up.

"Stop doing that," Sully complained.

"I didn't want something sneaking up behind us," Fiddle replied.

"Do you know if we can reverse that?" Darian growled. "You may have just sealed us in."

"Air, I need air," Calrom pantomimed. He moved the lever back. The plug went up again. He lowered it. "Seems to work to me. Now can we see what is behind the door?"

Fiddle borrowed Sully's cloak again. He moved to the last door. It was unlocked. It opened onto a flight of stairs down., a landing, and another flight of stairs. Fiddle led the way. The chamber beyond felt comfy. A pleasant feeling settled over the party. They found a statue in the room of the Pegasus Voastra. Fiddle moved about with the lantern. He found some clawed tracks in a corridor heading North. Another corridor went East. And a side chamber to the Southeast had a statue of Danar. The southern wall of this chamber was moist. The eastern wall contained a message written in Celestial. Darian read the writing on the wall aloud:

For I see a future....
and the taint of evil...
...fear the light of our world's day
I have chosen not to slay, not to destroy but to contain
Just as nature renews itself
the living gaining life from the dead,
so does evil draw upon even that which is destroyed
to crush evil is to free it and let it become a new darkness
a new bane
the banes are sealed away
sealed away along with their evil essence
trapped forever...


----------



## diaglo

*Party Strife*

Fiddle turned back to the main chamber. He searched around for secret panels, doors, or traps. Marmaduke, Redd, and Arendel guarded the northern corridor. Fiddle scouted to the East. He found a door. Calrom listened. The rattle of chains could be heard thru the door. Darian and Calrom entered. A few feet in they got a shock from the floor. Calrom retreated. Sully assumed the form of a pixie and flew to Darian's side. And Fiddle quaffed a potion. He hovered above the floor. He grabbed the wall and pulled himself along. Darian continued forward. He had some immunity to the electrical charge. A spell he had cast earlier when in combat with the will-o-wisp. The far wall of the chamber contained an evil presence. A suit of armor dangled from a chain. A face coalesced where a head should have been.

"Who dares enter my presence?" the evil said. "I am Tirranth Invir. Fear me. I was a great warlord. I ravaged the land and killed many thousands of people. Nearly 2000 years ago. Eventually I was hung for my crimes. Only when Danar, curse his name, set me here to rot did I know pain. Set me free. I command it."

"I don't think so," Darian replied. "You have shown no penance for your crimes."

"I will answer a question for you if you do," Invir offered. "I know you wish to gain something. I feel it."

The armor fell silent. Darian hemmed and hawed but couldn't get the creature to give a new response. Fiddle in the meantime had tried to speak a couple times. The only thing he got was scorn from the warlord. Although, he did learn that a vial of holy water and a blessing from a priest would free the spirit. Fiddle found the vial of holy water. And he remembered Darian still had a scroll with a blessing on it. He moved forward and began to sprinkle the holy water.

"FIDDDLLLE," Darian yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Freeing him," Fiddle replied. "He will not return here. His destination is Hell. What better way to punish him."

"AAAhhhh," Invir laughed as the holy water took effect. "Ask your question."

"Where is the Sword of Truth also called the Sword of Lies also called the Sword of Videotape..." Darian asked.

"It is with Tremoc Korin,," Invir answered. "It is a bane. If that is what you seek you are fools. Look for it 120' below on the eastern side of the Baneheart. Now finish this and free me."

Darian turned and left. Sully flittered out behind him. As Fiddle pulled himself to the door. Darian slammed it shut in his face.


----------



## diaglo

*Fiddle goes postal*

Fiddle had to touch down to open the door. He got a mild shock. He burst into the room with weapons drawn.

"Why'd you do that?" Fiddle charged the priest. "I'm here helping your f@#$%# church. If you don't want my help just say so. I'll be more than happy to let you do your own work."

"We can always find another thief," Darian remarked. "One who may actually be able to open some locks or disable some traps."

"Be my guest," Fiddle huffed. "I'm sure he will be just as happy to slit your throat while you are sleeping. I know I'm willing."

"Fiddle," Alya tried to break up the tension. "If you freed Invir you may have caused more harm than good. Did you not remember what Danar's writings said."

"Yeah, I remembered," Fiddle responded. "But didn't Danar also become the Dread Lord Malkith. I don't follow someone else's truths blindly. The only truth I know is that balance is needed."

Arendel came back, "What's all the commotion? I could hear you yelling down the hall. Keep it down."

"I'm with Alya on this," Calrom added. "As long as Danar proves to be goodly I believe he had the right intentions."

Sully was quiet on the matter. Fiddle threw up his hands. "I'm not sticking my neck out anymore. You  (he turned to Darian) can find your own traps."

"And you can heal yourself," Darian threatened.

"Like you ever did it willingly before," Fiddle laughed. "I'm not a medic is your theme song. I think I'll compose a ballad with that line in it for the next tavern I visit. F@#$*&$ coward." Fiddle glowered at the others.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Norhing like a little intra-party conflict


----------



## biorph

*whoa there*

HEY! HEY! HEY! We HAVE a BARD in the party.  if anyone's going to be doing the composing it's going to be ME, unless Fiddle plans on takeing the Vitruoso prestige class  

boy Fiddle sure did swear alot huh? I wonder what's going on there?


----------



## diaglo

biorph said:
			
		

> HEY! HEY! HEY! We HAVE a BARD in the party.  if anyone's going to be doing the composing it's going to be ME, unless Fiddle plans on takeing the Vitruoso prestige class
> 
> boy Fiddle sure did swear alot huh? I wonder what's going on there?




D'oh....forgot to mention...Alya healed Fiddle after things chilled out.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Interlude: The Quaan*

Hedrack, high priest of Moander and chief of the Pactlords of the Quaan, furrowed his brow as he concentrated on the bone ring on his finger, forcing his thoughts through the fanged-mouth symbol on the ring and across the planes to his agent.

"Kukannuile, what progress have you to report?"

The raspy voice of his agent grated in his ming.  _We used the first wish to bypass the sealed door to the Outer Vaults, but were attacked by a Lathanderite warrior who prevented the entry of the rest of the team.  I proceeded, bypassing various traps and ignoring vault doors, until I located the second door to the Inner Vaults, also sealed.  I have learned that the Grail lies in the depths of Tremoc Korin, but without the key I cannot retrieve it and return.  Others have penetrated the vaults, as well.  I do not know their motives, but at least one of them must have the key.  A Zhentarim force bypassed the sealed door some days ago; I managed to spring a trap that delayed them, but they continue to press ahead.  On their heels came a group of adventurers, among whom travelled a Lathanderite priest.  They destroyed the rest of my team, the weak fools, but they have yet to catch up with me.  What are your instructions, my Lord?_

"So, the Black Network or the Lathanderites have discovered the key, eh?  Likely the first group possesses it, and the latter rush to catch up.  We have yet to determine the Black Network's motives; we may be competing with them for the Grail.  The Lathanderites do not seek the same bane as we, but may be the more dangerous as they may seek to seal the warrens forever, which we cannot let happen.  Determine who has the key; delay the group that does not, and follow the leaders until the necessary doors are opened.  The second Grail Team has already been dispatched; they will track down the key and take it.  One the doors are opened and the key in our possession proceed to the Grail.  Come back successful or not at all."

_As you bid, my lord.  Might I suggest the third team be readied?_

"Do not presume to rise above yourself!  I shall deal with that eventuality when it arises!  Now go!"

He broke the mental contact, and glanced into the deeper darkness that lay within the shadows of his office.

"We are close to the Grail.  You are certain it will bring back my master?"

"Of course," hissed the sibilant voice from the shadows. "Have we steered you wrong yet?  Make haste, though, for we cannot distract the Daleslanders forever. It seems you have much competition."

"Two groups in the warrens, and two more that I know of."  Hedrack smirked.  "The advantage of having many enemies; they sow confusion and get in each others' way.  Our factor in Tilverton reports that his dupes inadvertantly revealed another agent to the Black Network, who did our dirty work for us.  That agent turned out not to be working for the group they thought, but for another.  A few more well-sown seeds of dissent, and we shall be unopposed."

"Presuming events in the warrens do not turn against you," the hissing shadow replied sarcastically. "The Lathanderites have proven quite resourceful before.  What if they gain the key, or the Grail, ahead of you?"

"Then it will fall right into our hands," Hedrack replied calmly, "I have already prepared for that eventuality."

"In that case, I remind you to remember our bargain, or your master's return will be short-lived.  My mistress will not continue to loan you her assistance forever.  She has other business."

"As you say," Hedrack nodded.


----------



## biorph

diaglo said:
			
		

> ...fat elf chick sets off trap




noisy halfing gets black eye and bruised groin


----------



## diaglo

*Ape man...*

The party left the Warlord Tirranth to his own misery, while they decided what to do next. The noise from their argument hadn't brought unwanted guests. Calrom and Fiddle scouted back to the last corridor. The tracks were still very distinguishable. Calrom guessed 3 or 4 large ape like creatures had made them. His knowledge of magical beasts led him to believe they were Girallons. Fiddle found a secret door slightly ajar at the end of the corridor. The passage continued to the right. Fiddle and Calrom scouted down the passage. Ahead was a room and to the left another passage. The room was a mess. Remnants of wooden shelves were scattered about the floor. The brackets in the walls had also been torn away. Calrom and Fiddle searched amidst the wreckage. Nothing. They trotted back to the others.

"Now what?" Arendel asked. "I say we open the secret door."

"There is another passage," Calrom remarked. "Maybe Fiddle and I should watch that passage."

The others agree. Fiddle and Calrom walked back to the passage. On the way there, Arendel and the others opened the secret door.

BBBoooooNNNGGGG

"What the..." Calrom said. He turned around just in time to see a large Four armed Ape swat him. He swayed backwards. The creature leaned forward and lifted him from the ground. Its claws and muscles did a number on the ranger. He looked like a rag doll. Calrom shrieked in pain before losing consciousness. He was still breathing. Fiddle stared up at the beast and locked eyes with it. It set Calrom down. Several more large shapes appeared behind the first Girallon. Arendel assumed Bear form.

Alya began to sing. The words in her song warned the rest of the party not to cast spells or act violently. Two more of the apes rounded the corner. They stood still listening to Alya. Fiddle coaxed the third ape to pick up Calrom and follow. He brought the Girallon to Darian. Darian used regular means to stop Calrom from bleeding. The Girallon set Calrom down.

A fourth  Girallon rounded the corner. Arendel calmed the beast. It grabbed the bear and led it back the way it had come. The leopard followed. Sully tried to stay out of the way. He felt frustrated at not being able to help.

Fiddle took the other Girallon into the secret passage. He closed the door behind himself. He could still hear Alya singing. The words were ones of worry. She didn't know what had happened to the druid. And the two Girallons in front of her were not going to stay that way if the others didn't come up with a plan.

Fiddle looked around. The secret passage had 3 doors. The first was open. Inside a glowing hand floated over a pedestal. The Girallon picked him up. Fiddle tried to squirm free. The beast held him tighter. For several moments Fiddle and the Girallon had a battle of wills. The Girallon thought to protect the hin. Fiddle just wanted to be set free again. Fiddle finally gave up and hoped the others would rescue him.

The singing stopped.


----------



## diaglo

*Silent night...Unholy night.*

"That's not good," Fiddle thought.

Fiddle tried to distract the Girallon while he drew his daggers.

BBBooooNNNNGGG

The secret door opened again. THump, thump, thump. Three arrows struck the Girallon in the back. It spun around and set Fiddle down. And took a swing at the figure in the door. Calrom stood at the doorway with his bow. Fiddle leapt at the Girallon. He stabbed it repeatedly. Darian was just to the side of Calrom in the corridor. He fired a stream of light down the other passage. The roar of a bear could be heard. Sully suddenly appeared behind Calrom. A volley of magical balls hit the Girallon. It turned on Fiddle. The ape grabbed Fiddle with three of its arms and bit down hard on his shoulder. Fiddle almost lost consciousness.  A bear claw raked the Girallon from behind. It fell.

Darian bent down and healed Fiddle.

"Thanks," Fiddle replied. "You saved my bacon. There is a hand in the room." Fiddle pointed ahead.

"Alya and the leopard are gone," Darian shook his head.

A gloom fell over the party. Calrom appeared with the healing wand. He and Fiddle traded cures until they were restored.

Arendel returned to elf form. "I can restore Alya. But I need some special oils, herbs, and unguents. They are not cheap. And it will take much of my strength. I used up most of my spells killing 3 of the Girallons."

"I've got some," Fiddle responded.

"Fiddle?" Darian asked. Everyone looked at the hin.

"I have some worth about 5000gp," Fiddle added. "I'm not without my resources."

"We are gonna have to have a look at what you have sometime," Calrom stated. 

Calrom and Fiddle sat watch for the night. The others rested in the Girallon's room. It had a shrine to Mielikki. The shrine provided food for the party.

During the night, Fiddle caught sight of the mind flayer. He woke Calrom. Fiddle also heard the pounded of many feet. Fiddle opened the secret door to wake the others. 

BBBBoooNNNGGGG

He mounted Marmaduke and rode to the shrine. "One if by land, Two if by sea," he shouted.


----------



## diaglo

*Baby flesh anyone?*

In the morning Arendel gathered Alya's remains at the shrine. He said a quick prayer and then turned to Fiddle. Fiddle reached into his haversack and pulled out the jug.

Everyone's eyes fell on the jug. 

"It's not evil," Fiddle reminded them.

"But it's not good either," Darian added. "Just what is it?"

"Some kind of powder," Fiddle answered. "I would guess a very nasty poison. But the druid would know more."

"Well we will never know," Arendel said. "It will be consumed in the casting."

He mumbled and danced and chanted around Alya's remains. He poured the jug's contents out. They vanished with a flash. A red mist surrounded the body. All features flashed in and out of existance. A moment later. Alya stirred.

She was scaly with a rat like tail and dog like head. She had two small horns. And she was half her normal height. And she was now male.

"I'm alive," Alya barked. She looked around. "What? what are you all looking at? Someone give me a mirror."

Her voice was slightly different but it was definitely Alya. 

NNNNNNnnnNNOOOooo

"I'm a kobold," Alya railed against the druid. "Look what you've done to me. And what is this? I'm male now too."

"I could always kill you and bring you back as something else," Arendel chuckled.

"Not on my bill, you won't," Fiddle looked at the empty jug. "You cost me another 5000gp." Fiddle said to Alya.

Several more minutes of tension past with Alya screaming at the top of her new lungs. Finally Alya begrudging thanked the druid. s/He handed Fiddle several items he could no longer use or even carry. His rapier, armor, and whip. He kept his bow, but there was little anyone could do with it anyway. It was an Oathbow and bound to Alya. 

"Arcane archer kobold," Calrom laughed. "I bet the elves are gonna love that."


----------



## biorph

*Letters to Home*

Dearest Brother,

I haven't written you in some time, but I hope this letter finds you well.  You would not recognize your sister...and hopefully neither will certain authorities.  You always said that you wondered what it would be like to have a brother...well wonder no more.  I took a spill and ended up in that lovely place with the fires and the demons for some reason, strange and somewhat unexpected.  Thankfully the group I'm with was able to bring me back successfully...more or less.  An incident was involved, things got bad, and to make a long story short I'm now a kobold...a male kobold.  After you were cured of your curse I did not need to pursue my chosen path to aid you but did anyway.  I also dabbled in possibly awakening the inherent dragon's blood that allows me to cast my spells.  Apparently somewhere I succeeded if this is the result.  Now here's the kicker, I had already trained in my arcane archery.  If I chose to pursue this I could be the world's first kobold with the archery secrets of the elves.  If I passed those secrets on it might teach those hypocrites a thing or two, and serve them right.  OF course the Dragons blood in me, now awakened, does seem to be calling to me foster it's growth as well.  This does put me in a bit of a quandary though.  I have always paid at least lip service to the lone wolf Fenmarel, but what do I do now?  It hardly seems appropriate anymore.  I suppose I could try worshipping that little hateful god of the Kobolds, but I wonder what he would think of me.  It's certainly a unique situation.  Then again, there is a Lathanderite in the party.  Lathander is supposed to like music and such, perhaps I should seek atonement for my sins and the grace of his favor for my reward for returning this sword of his we're looking for.  It might be the only way I'll get back into Tilverton, through the main gates anyway.  Burn this after you read it, you know how I hate to leave a paper trail.

All My Love,
Alya


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

diaglo said:
			
		

> Fiddle looked around. The secret passage had 3 doors. The first was open. Inside a glowing hand floated over a pedestal. The Girallon picked him up. Fiddle tried to squirm free. The beast held him tighter. For several moments Fiddle and the Girallon had a battle of wills. The Girallon thought to protect the hin. Fiddle just wanted to be set free again. Fiddle finally gave up and hoped the others would rescue him.
> 
> The singing stopped.




What?  You're not going to share the whole "Mama Girallon snoogies the baby hin" scene?  It was quite touching.  Of course, since it took place behind closed doors, it would involve teh rest of the party knowing ...


----------



## diaglo

*Forbidden fruit*

"So back to the secret door?" Alya asked.

The party set off the alarm again and approached the first door. Fiddle had finally convinced Darian it was a bad idea to leave the evil banes behind especially with the mind flayer and Nicolon somewhere about and who knew how many other groups. So the party entered the first room. Darian took Alya's now too big pack. He attempted to catch the floating hand. The hand passed thru the material. It wasn't really there it seemed. Everyone shrugged. Next.

Fiddle tried to unlock the second door. It was too difficult. So he moved on the third. Calrom scouted ahead to the end of the hall. It opened into another room. Strange artwork was painted on some screening. Calrom didn't want to touch anything in fear of a trap. He tossed an axe. It ripped thru the screen. He tossed another axe. This one broke the screen support and it collapsed. Fiddle undid the third lock. An empty chamber.

Alya detected for magical auras. And Darian looked for evil. No one entered the room. Something in the middle of the room near the floor radiated both magic and evil. Next. Sully opened the second door with his wand. A large greenish sphere floated in the center of the second room. Alya said it was similar to a _resilient sphere_. Neither magic from the outside nor that from within would penetrate it.

"I hope that's not what they are looking for," Sully commented. "We still need to find a way down."

Fiddle and the others scoured the corridor and the room at the end. Fiddle found a secret panel. Sully sent Redd to guard the secret door behind. Fiddle had Marmaduke guard Redd. When everyone had listened at the wall and prepared for the worst, Fiddle opened the panel. A door to a new hallway lay beyond. Calrom and Fiddle scouted. After 50' or so they came upon some arcane script. Fiddle tried to make it out. It was some form of protective magic. A trap. Alya tried using magic.

"It reads as a zone of Forbiddance," she said. "Probably to keep something out."

"Or to keep something in," Darian added.

Alya stuck her arm out. ZZZaaaPPpppp.

"Well it doesn't like you," Arendel noted. "Perhaps it would like someone more balanced."

"Why don't I just dispel the magic," Sully waved his wand. "I'm not sure if it will last so be prepared to hustle to the other side."  

Sully dampened the trap. Everyone ran for the other side. They were in another room with a large metal formerly sealed door. Someone had already beaten them here. Claw and tool marks marred the door. An image of light in the form of Danar appeared.

"Please," he begged,  "go no further. You risk letting loose some of the greatest evils Aber-Toril has ever known." The image faded.

The party opened the door wider. A small chamber led to a stairway down.


----------



## diaglo

*The Inner Vaults...*

Fiddle checked the stairs for traps. None. The party proceeded. At the bottom was an antechamber with 2 doors and a marred fresco. Two angels formed an arch with large black handprints burned into the wall. Darian examined the arch more closely. A symbol of a sun had once blazed in the middle.

Arendel listened at the door on the right. Nothing. He opened it. A pool filled the room. More angel images covered the walls. Again the artwork had been defaced. Arendel tried to scoot around the edge of the pool. He balanced on a 4" lip. His armor made it difficult. So after traveling to the edge, he attempted to return to the doorway. He fell in up to his knees. It wasn't very deep. Then suddenly something grabbed him. The acid of its touch dissolved his armor. He ran for the door. Sully tried to cover his retreat. The monster reacted to Sully's movements near the door. Sully's clothes dissolved away. With Arendel free from the room, Fiddle slammed the door shut. The monster sloshed around on the other side, but did not enter the anteroom.

"Well looks like I'm not the only nekked one now," Alya laughed as she healed Sully. Arendel changed into bear form.


Calrom went left. He listened and then opened the door. The room was a large banquet like hall with a pile of tablecloths in the center. The tables flipped upside down and tossed off to the side. 3 more doors. Fiddle mounted Arendel and rode into the room. They approached the door to the East. No noise beyond. Arendel pawed the door open.  The room was obviously once an place of worship for the goodly powers. It now stood in a shambles. Many things marred the walls. The altar lie cracked and what looked like blood oozed from its center. A male figure stood near it. Two objects hovered around his head.

"Bastion?" Fiddle called out.

The figure turned. He was not an angel. Fiddle had guessed way wrong. He looked almost like the image of a vampire. Or what Fiddle imaged one to be like.

"Who are you?" the vampire asked. "And why do you disturb me?"

"We are looking for something," Fiddle yelled. His voice more directed behind him to the party then in front to the vampire. "You should meet my FRIENDS. HELLLLLOOOO. A LITTLE HELP HERE."

"And you should meet mine," the vampire answered. He walked off to the West out of view. A door opened and closed.

Fiddle closed his door and leapt off of Arendel. He ran back to the others. Arendel sauntered behind him.

"Who were you talking to Fiddle?" Alya questioned. 

"Something is coming," Fiddle screamed. "Something very bad. And he went to get help. He was like a very bad dream with things hovering around his head."

Sully cast a spell. Fiddle too summoned his newly found powers. His little feet could now cover more ground. Calrom moved into the banquet room and listened at the South door. He heard movement. And then the door opened. The one on the Northwest wall also opened. Calrom stared up at some decaying human flesh in armor and armed with a sword. Another undead stood behind the first.


----------



## diaglo

*That's the sound of the men working on the chain gang*

Sully reacted first. He moved into the room to help cover Calrom's retreat. And retreat he did. Calrom ran back to warn the others. On the way he drew his bow and prepared to fire arrows. Arendel still partially blocked the doorway with his bear form. Darian entered the room with his holy symbol blazing. The undead barely flinched.

"Mwhhhaahaaa," the vampire like leader laughed. "Puny mortal, your God has no sway here. Perhaps you'd like a taste of your own medicine."

The vampire presented a corrupted version of his own holy symbol. Neither Darian nor Sully were frightened. The remaining undead advanced. Two held longswords and shields and the other two had nasty chains with spikes. One tripped Darian. The other caught Arendel. But the bear druid held his ground. Arendel swatted one of the swordsmen before retreating into the anteroom. Fiddle fired 2 arrows. One sailed over Arendel's shoulder the other struck the same swordsman. Alya began to sing. She also added a layer of grease to the doorway.

Sully backed out of range of the spike chains. He cast a ball of lightning amidst the enemy. Unfortunately, Darian felt its effects, too. Calrom pelted the swordsman in the doorway. Darian presented his symbol again. This time 2 of the undead warriors collapsed. The 2 with the longswords. He stood up. A spiked chain brought him low again. Darian barely held onto consciousness. The other chain man knocked Sully down. The vampire hung back.

Arendel reverted back to druid form. Some of his injuries healed. He pulled his bow. Fiddle fired another arrow into the foray. He hit a chain man. Alya healed Arendel.

Sully tried to cast again. He avoided the chain. The ball of lightning exploded on the undead. The chain gang collapsed. Only the vampire remained. And he seemed to be only slightly more annoyed, not injured. Calrom sprinted out into the main room. He fell in the grease. His arrow buried into the back of the vampires shoulder. The creature didn't bother to react. Darian stood up again. He cast a spell on the vampires symbol.

"Impressive," the vampire said. "I will enjoy killing you." He advanced within easy reach of both Sully and Darian.

Arendel moved to the doorway. Fiddle pulled one of his special arrows. He stepped over Calrom and into safety. He too buried an arrow into the vampire. Some of the wounds on the vampire seemed to be healing. Alya dismissed the grease spot. She advanced into the room.


----------



## diaglo

*Redd forgets...*

Sully began casting another spell. The vampire didn't care. Sully blinked out of sight. That left only Darian threatened. He began to talk very quickly. It is amazing what a little mano y mano can do. The priest was almost convincing. Fiddle half believed him. The vampire showed his contempt by turning his back and walking back into the altar room. Alya quickly healed Darian as the party regrouped back in the anteroom.

Sully stood very still. "Come we must away. Redd says something is at the door. He and Marmaduke are on their way back to.....Ooouuuchhhhhh." Sully swooned a little. The party ran back up the stairs. On the opposite side of the _Forbiddance_ zone Redd licked his wounds. Marmaduke stood nearby. Sully dispelled the zone again. The party ran back to the secret door. It was slightly ajar. So Calrom pulled it closed and pressed his ear against the stone.

"Redd says there is a spider man on the other side," Sully whispered. "And he is not alone. A very Large spider is with him."

The party waited in anticipation. Calrom heard scraping sounds. But whatever was there, they didn't find the secret panel. The sounds faded. They must have moved away. The party counted off a few more tense minutes. Nothing.


----------



## diaglo

*Come into my parlor said the spider to the ...*

Calrom and Fiddle entered quietly. They scouted about the rooms. Nothing. They went back to the others.

"They're gone," Calrom stated. "Whatever they were looking for I don't think they found it. Everything is still where it was before."

"Well let us rest and recover from our day's battles," Darian gasped.

"Day's battles?" Alya quipped. "We've been at it for only about an hour or so."

"I hope the horses are okay," Fiddle commented.

The party settled on watch schedules. Alya and Arendel had first watch. The others retired to the Shrine room. Fiddle and Calrom would relieve them. Fiddle was soon fast asleep. He hadn't slept well the night before with the mind flayer wandering around too closeby.

"WWWWWAAAAAAAaaaaaHHHhhhh," Alya's shrieked broke the silence.

Fiddle rolled out of bed and mounted Marmaduke. They rode to the doorway. Alya was held fast against the wall and floor by a strong web. The remains of a large spider covered the floor at Arendel's feet. Arendel was in bear form. He grunted up at the ceiling. A spider like humanoid crawled away around the corner. Arendel gave pursuit. Fiddle, Sully, and Calrom close behind. Fiddle tried to hurl a dagger, but he wasn't quite awake. Marmaduke jostled too much. And he had to grab on tight or risk falling. They lost sight of the thing. The party regrouped. Darian had burned Alya free from the webbing.

"Well I hope we don't encounter any more disruption," Darian sighed.

"We don't even know who they were working with," Sully added. "I would guess the mind flayer, but that is purely a guess."


----------



## diaglo

*Even the good guys get confused...*

After resting and recovering spells the party was in the mood for a long discussion of their next course of action. Obviously, the mind flayer and his gang were fresh on their minds. So too were the lady and her thugs. And possibly the Zhents. And the drow. And a million other possible competitors. This Mound had become the central stopping place of an evil wagon train or something. Darian made sure to mention the fact they, the bad guys, may well already be ahead of the party.

In the end Arendel convinced the party to return to the surface. He and Calrom would try to find new companions. And the others would see to the horses. Fiddle scouted the return trip. He made sure to look for signs of passage by their foes. The secret door was open just as the party had left it. However, Calrom found fresh boot prints. He and Fiddle hurried to the other secret door. It was open too. This was not the party's doing. They signaled to the others.

Fiddle tumbled into the hall beyond. Calrom strolled in behind. Nothing.

"The Forbiddance," Fiddle whispered.

They crept forward. A stream of liquid goo shot out at Calrom from the ceiling. It stretched back and hardened. A web. It held Calrom in place. Darian ran forward. A beam of light left his holy symbol and struck the creature on the ceiling. An ettercap. Fiddle flung his dagger. It bit into the creature's side. Sully sent a volley of magic bolts into the thing. It hung unmoving upside down. The others rushed forward.

Fiddle started to cut Calrom free.

"Here let me," Darian struck his tinder.

PPPooFFf

The web went up in flames.

"Oww," Calrom shouted. "You could've waited."

Alya healed the scorch marks. She detected for magic. The Forbiddance was still active.

"Now what?" Alya asked. "Do the tracks lead on?"

"We can only assume they do," Calrom responded. "The mind flayer?"

"I suggest we try the scorpion," Arendel blurted. "I have a spell to take care of him. And afterwards lets go to the surface. I'm not ready to tackle the vampire nor the mind flayer."

Everyone agreed.


----------



## diaglo

*Stone Temple Pilot*

Fiddle led the party back the way they had come. Back down the hall, up the stairs, past the traps, thru the will-o-wisp chamber, past the banes, someone had visited them, the third small black sphere lay in pieces,....the plug was up. Someone had left it so. Not the party. Back to the circular combination room and to the door on the right, down the hall. The party looked in on the smaller constructs. Still a mess. They prepared at the door. Alya sang a song and lightly touched Arendel. The druid vanished. The others likewise cast spells or prepared themselves. Fiddle opened the door.

The large construct scorpion was still there. Suddenly Arendel reappeared. He touched the tail. It rusted instantly. Alya and Calrom fired arrows into the room. It looked like the party would destroy the thing before it reacted. Sully ended the action with a volley of missles. Springs and pieces flew up into the air as the metal crashed down.

"Well that was easy," Darian remarked.

Fiddle was already examining the tail of the construct. He found two lines which led back to two chambers full of potential poison. He quickly filled an empty potion vial with one of the liquids. As he tried to extract the other a gas leaked out....

(Fiddle was out of the action. He failed his save vs. petrification. I'll fill in the story with Alya's commentary. biorph was absent this session, so i ran alya for him.)

Fiddle awoke in Sybil's hut. He had a few seconds to think this was odd before Darian hit him with his mace.

"Don't do that again," Darian said.

The others agreed. Sully seemed the most happy to see Fiddle, but also something else. Fiddle looked around. Sully's staff of air was stacked in the corner of Sybil's room. Darian, Arendel, Calrom, and Alya chatted away with Sybil. They bid their goodbyes and rowed back to shore.


----------



## diaglo

*stand and face the Hands of Hell*

"Stupid halfling," Alya thought to herself. "Serves him right. But now what am I going to do with him?"

Darian said almost the exact same thing out loud. "I say we place him in the temple grounds for at least a day and let the birds have their way with him."

"A yard halfling?" Calrom giggled.

"Oy he weighs a ton now," Alya moaned. "Arendel and Calrom give me a hand. Tie him to the back of Marmaduke."

"Tilverton seems like our best bet," Arendel continued. "But I think Darian and Alya should go. I'm not sure the rest of us should be seen."

"I'm not going back to that sewer trap," Calrom added. "What about Ashabenford?"

"Well we could try Peldan's Helm," Alya thought. "Maybe Eliar has a ...."

"What other spellcasters do you know?" Arendel interrupted.

"Well there is Sybil," Alya replied. "You would like her. She is an elf."

"And a necromancer," Darian reminded the kobold. "I'm not sure how friendly the druid and necromancer will be. But it will save us many days. What do we have to trade?"

"I have gold," Sully chimed in. "But it is all on Fiddle."

"Oy," Alya moaned again. "Figure the thief to take it all with him. Well let us try."

The party made for the exit. It was dark when they reached the surface.

"I thought it was day time," Calrom griped. "Didn't anyone keep track of the time."

"You could've asked me," Darian smirked. "I always know when the Morninglord has risen."

UUUuuuummmmmMMmmmMmmmhHHHHhhhhh

A moan broke the silence.

"Come we must hurry," Alya shrieked. "The hands will find us soon otherwise."


----------



## diaglo

*The price of fame...*

A fog obscured most of their vision. They hurried as a group along the path to the way out of the Barrows. The moaning was louder ahead. The mist gained
two red eyes. They sped at Calrom. He fired his bow. The others responded too. Arendel became a bear. The wraith reached out and grabbed Calrom's chest. He fought it off. Darian called on Lathander's might. The wraith vanished. But all was not silent. The sound of many things scraping across the gravel, sand, and stones carried to the party's ears.

"Come we must hurry," Alya pushed the group. "It is the hands."

Sully assumed pixie form to move faster. Darian stuffed his shield and mace into his pack as he ran. Everyone ran. The reached the ridge. The hands piled below trying in vain to make it out of the Barrows. They didn't succeed.

The party went and collected the horses. They were thinner. So Calrom hobbled them to let them graze. He also scavenged what he could from the surrounding plains. The party took normal watches. Fiddle stayed guard with Alya and Marmaduke.

"That was a weird experience," Alya commented. "I slept."

The morning light hurt Alya's eyes even before it broke the horizon. The mist below cleared. The party went to find Sybil. She was on her island just outside her hut.

"Hello, Sybil," Alya called.

"What is that?" Sybil cried back. "A kobold. Kill it. They are nasty little creatures."

"It's me, Alya," the kobold waved. "Really it's me."

Darian had to step in to save Alya from getting the short end of one of Sybil's sticks. Eventually Sybil sent the boat across to pick up the party. They rowed ashore and were invited inside for tea. After friendly introductions and a brief gossip of the latest adventure, Darian got down to business. He pointed at Fiddle.

There was little the party had that interested the elderly elf. Only Sully possessed anything slightly arcane. The Staff of Air. Sybil offered to hold it as collateral until the party could return her some ingredients. The fresh body of a mind flayer...She obviously had paid close attention to their tale...The dust of the vampire...or the head of the kobold bard. Alya was not too happy about the last one. Sybil even chastised the druid a little for his part in creating the new Alya.

Sully handed the Staff over to Sybil. She pulled a scroll out and touched Fiddle. One second he was stone, the next flesh. No worse for wear apparently.


----------



## diaglo

*The circus comes to mound*

Fiddle agreed with Calrom and Arendel. The party needed at least a day to collect their thoughts. So much time below had thrown everyone's sense of timing off. As well as making them forget how beautiful the world outside could be. Fiddle played with Marmaduke. Timmay's former riding dog was once again enjoying life. He had gained some weight and looked much more healthy. Soon, Fiddle thought he would forget about the troubles from the past. Calrom and Arendel went to find their own companions. The rest of the party rested. Alya hated the outdoors now during the day. But she tried to keep up her now his spirits. Sully practiced his art with cooking. The party had a decent meal for a change.

When all was said and done the ranger returned with a large Bull.

"Man that is one load of Bull stuff," Fiddle joked. "Only two kinds come from those farms. At least he has horns." 

"His name's Mulebone," Calrom responded.

And Arendel appeared with a Large Brown Bear. She eyed Redd and Mulebone. Redd hid behind Marmaduke. There would be no leaving the Bear alone with the rest of the animals for the rest of this expedition.

Alya sang songs and the party had one last hurrah that evening, before they set off for the Banewarren again in the morning. Fiddle needed to kill the vampire or the mind flayer to repay Sully. The party chose the mind flayer if they had the choice. So Arendel and the other spellcasters chose their spells accordingly.

The party approached the mound. A messy scene decorated the entrance. Six horses and their gear lay torn asunder. The hands and something else had done their jobs. Calrom and Fiddle looked for signs or clues as to the owners and the assailants. Military saddles from Cormyr. Obviously another group had joined the mix. There was a  symbol of justice on one of the packs.

"Followers of Tyr," Darian said. "I believe they are on our side."

The party descended into the depths of the earth.


----------



## diaglo

*Leave No stone unturned...*

After scouring around for some time looking for the mind flayer and the Tyrians, the party decided they would try something else. 

"I have prepared a spell to destroy the portcullis," Arendel smiled. "Maybe we will find a new way down from there."

The party agreed. They trudged to the trapped room. Arendel rusted the portcullis bars. Fiddle crept inside. He found a lever on the back wall.

"Someone watch the no latch door," Fiddle called back. The others were nowhere in sight. "Figures." Fiddle pulled the lever and went back to the other room.

The door was open. Calrom stood in the doorway. 

"There is nothing of magic in here," Alya said. "But I don't like it."

Fiddle hurried back to the lever. He heard Calrom shout. "Close the door."

Fiddle tried the lever. A few seconds passed and he was able to move it. He returned.

"What happened?" he asked. He heard pounding on the other side of the door.

"Some form of demon," Alya answered. "I closed the door. Thank you for locking it."

"Lets go ask Gastronomus if he knows anything more that may help us," Arendel suggested.

The party went back to Danar's aide. Fiddle reminded everyone to keep the door open. Calrom went to see Gastri. His head was torn off and he was missing his eyes. He didn't move.

"Well someone didn't want him talking," Calrom surmised.

"I don't think it was the Tyrians," Darian added. "My guess is some other group. Hopefully the mind flayer."

"Hopefully?" Fiddle balked. "Lets check the plug."

It was open. Things were not as the party expected. Inside the hallway the bane rooms were spiked and sealed with a ward. Even the two empty rooms. The Tyrians had been this way.  Calrom closed the plug behind the party. They quickly trotted ahead to see just how far the Tyrians had gone.


----------



## diaglo

*dip in the pool*

Fiddle approached all of the doors and traps as if they were new. Who knew what the Tyrians had done. Fortunately, none of the traps had been reset. The party made their way to the shrine of Mielikki. They grabbed a quick bite to eat before going further. The bane rooms beyond the secret door were all spiked and warded.

"I'll give them one thing," Alya remarked. "They are very thorough. I wonder if we will find them at the _Forbiddance_ zone."

No such luck. It appeared the Tyrians had passed unaffected. 

"Tyrians follow a true and just system," Fiddle guessed. "Much like Danar before he became the Dreadlord. My guess is the Forbiddance is keyed towards those of like morals. That excludes all of us." 

Sully and Darian traded attempts to suppress the magic. The party ran across when all was clear. The door was open to the lower chambers. Fiddle led the way down the stairs.

At the bottom the party found the both doors ajar in the anteroom. The pool had odd bits of slime floating around. Fiddle tossed his coin to the middle. Nothing stirred. He jumped in to retrieve his light source and to search the bottom. The water was up to his shoulders. He found a muck covered trap door.

"Anyone got any rope?" Fiddle called back.

"What are you going to do?" Calrom asked as he tossed the line to Fiddle.

"Hold fast while I pull this door," Fiddle replied. "I imagine this will drain the pool. And then we can search here."

Alya turned into a trog and helped Calrom hold the rope. Fiddle pulled the trap door open. The water gushed down the drain. The rope went taut and Fiddle vanished from sight.


----------



## diaglo

*Light at the end of the corridor*

Luckily Fiddle could hold his breath. The fast running water pulled and pulled, but Fiddle was safe. A minute passed before the water stopped. Fiddle pulled himself back up to the surface.

"Alya," Fiddle choked. "Your potion of water breathing, please. I will go see if the chamber below is clear. There is a drop of 40 or so feet."

Fiddle downed the  potion and plugged down the rope. He reached the end of the rope. And was about 5 feet from the floor. The water was mostly gone. Only about 4 or so inches covered the floor and that was still draining away. He was in a chamber with a large Winged Lion like creature. It was a statue. It had a very kindly noble human face. Fiddle untied himself from the rope and moved about the statue. He found nothing else of interest in the room After a few more moments of searching he grabbed the rope and tugged. Alya and Calrom pulled Fiddle back up.

"There is another passage off a chamber below and a statue," Fiddle remarked. "It will put us closer depth wise to the Baneheart. But I don't know if the animals will fit. It was tight almost for me."

"Let us go find the Tyrians first," Darian said. "I don't think they found your trap door. So I imagine you were the first down there."

Fiddle cleaned up as best he could while the others scouted the other rooms. Everyone avoided the Altar room with the Vampire. The party found four more destroyed wights. And piles and piles of bones. They had trouble opening doors in one room.  Eventually they turned into an large corridor. Alya with his new vision spied 4 humans crouched by another passage. He returned to the room with the party and told everyone. The priest of Lathander shone his lantern down the hallway.

"Hail Tyrians," Darian called out. "I am..."

"SHHHHHhhh," one large man called back. "Hurry we must away. They are coming."

The four armed and armored figures ran for Darian. Two were human males, a third a human female, and the last an elf woman. Darian 

Alya cast invisibility on himself before the Tyrians arrived.

The party closed the door behind the last figure.


----------



## diaglo

*Introducing in this corner, wearing...*

"Hail priest of the Morning Lord," the lead figure said. "I am Marcus of Tyr. What an unexpected surprise. There are two frog like creatures behind us. I think your light and voice may have gained their attention."

"Allow me to apologize," Darian answered. "We will aid you if it comes to battle. Why are you here?"

"And you may wonder how we knew you were here," Calrom added. "But I believe these were yours. Your mounts are dead." Calrom handed over the remains of the packs.

"The hands got them," Arendel addressed the female elf. "I am Arendel of the Forest. And before we go further allow me to say what lovely armor you have."

Darian quickly made the introductions. He even remembered to introduce Alya and explain before his spell wore off.

The Tyrians included Marcus of Tyr, the expedition's leader; Vaesillian Moonheart, the elf maiden; Mostran Ferelurth of Tyr, the other male; and Helgert Hume, a female warrior. Mostran looked like a priest. While Helgert was way out of her league. She sported a spear, but maybe she didn't know which end to use.

The Tyrians had not covered much ground. They had battled the black ooze, but nothing else. And they had sealed the banes. Their mission was to recover a powerful sword.

"Not the sword of Truth, Lies, and complete escape?"  Fiddle asked.

"The same," Marcus of Tyr answered. "We are to return it to the Church of Tyr."

"And we to the Church of Lathander," Darian negotiated. "Perhaps we can work together. There are many seeking the same things. Including a mind flayer, the Zhents, the drow, and a vampire."

Fiddle remembered why he was here. The vampire dust. He also thought there might be another way down past the vampire. There were several doors in the Altar room. He made his way to the door to listen.


----------



## diaglo

*The vampire chronicles...*

All was quiet. Fiddle tried to silently open the door. It creaked. The figure of the vampire was still there.

"Ah," the vampire said. "I see you did not learn your lesson little one. This time I will not be so lenient."

Fiddle slammed the door and ran. "He's coming."

The others had just discovered Fiddle's absence and were heading his way. Darian called on Lathander.

"For Tyr," Marcus of Tyr bellowed. He led a charge thru the door. Another aura surrounded him.

Alya opened the door to the South of the Altar. Calrom and Fiddle joined him. Arendel, Darian, and the Bear followed the Tyrians.

"Oh this will be wonderful," the vampire cackled. He presented his unholy symbol. Mostran and Helgert were no more. Their armor and weapons collapsed. The husk of their bodies exploded.

Marcus of Tyr engaged the creature in melee. Darian cast a bolt of light. It burned the thing. And Sully followed with a ball of lightning. Alya began to sing.

Calrom pelted it with arrows. And the she-elf pulled a wand. A stream of green magic struck the vampire. Only Fiddle and Arendel remained clear of the conflict. Fiddle manuvered around the vampire. He scanned for other foes and exits. Arendel tried to coersce his Bear into attacking. It wouldn't. In fact it fled.

The vampire slammed Marcus of Tyr and moved clear of Fiddle. It sensed the hin's intent. Sully rolled another ball of lightning on top of the vampire. Fiddle had to duck to avoid getting electrocuted himself. Alya and Calrom continued the barrage of arrows. Darian summoned Lathander's own weapon. The battle raged.

Suddenly the vampire's armor collapsed. A mist drifted passed Fiddle.

"He's here," Fiddle yelled. The others gave pursuit.


----------



## diaglo

*Long live the vampire Le Stat...str 16*

Darian and Calrom led the pursuit. Fiddle found a few items of worth. Six silver trays, a couple incense burners, a crystal bowl, a crystal flask, the unholy symbol from the vampire, and a suit of full plate armor. He also found some foul wafers. He poured out the flask before tucking it away. Arendel likewise had some luck 6 magical black cloaks. 

Zapppp.

The priest and the ranger felt a current pass thru them.

"Oh what the hell we need to destroy the vampire," Darian continued forward. He was stunned for a second and then met another trap which he overcame.  Calrom turned back.

Darian stood in another room. A dias lay in  front of him capped by a small gold box a black cloth folded on top.

Fiddle checked the area of electricity. "About 10 ft worth," Fiddle said. "I don't think I can..."

"For Tyr," Marcus of Tyr shouted as he plugged ahead to catch up with Darian.

Sully cast a spell from a scroll on Vaesillian. She flew to Marcus' side. Sully assumed pixie form and hoisted Fiddle to safety.

"I don't think I should leave the Bear with the Bull," Arendel told everyone.

"I'm gonna wait here with you," Alya agreed.

Calrom made a leap of faith. He cleared the first trap. He was stunned by the second and avoided the third.

Fiddle examined the box. It was untrapped. He opened it. He found the mist reforming in a chamber below. He told the others. Darian poured holy water inside. It burned but only slowed the reformation.

"The box," Marcus surmised. "It must be his coffin."

With no other idea forthcoming Fiddle, Marcus of Tyr, Vaesillian, Darian and Calrom hacked away at the gold box. Within a few moments it lay in ruins. The mist was gone.


----------



## diaglo

*the remains of the day*

Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian returned to the Altar room. Marcus of Tyr wore the scars from this battle well. Darian too braved the traps again. Sully flew Fiddle back to the Altar. Arendel, the animals, and Alya had collected the vampire dust into an empty potion vial. Alya carried the precious material. Only Calrom remained by the dias. He hesitated a few minutes and then stepped lightly back…Poof…Zapppp. The third trap finally revealed its true nature. It transported Calrom into the middle of the electrical trap. He was disoriented a few seconds before he cleared the zone. Alya healed him some. Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian left the room to see to their companions’ remains.

“Well what next?” Darian asked. “We have the vampire dust.”

“We also know a way down now,” Fiddle remarked. “I don’t think the mind flayer is done with us.”

“I can attempt to scry him,” Arendel mentioned. “If we can find a pool of water.”

“I have used many of my most potent spells,” Alya chimed in.

“Ditto,” from Darian.

“As have I,” Sully agreed. “Maybe we should be cautious.”

“With all that has happened and all the groups now revealing themselves,” Fiddle thought out loud. “I don’t know how much longer we have down here before someone or something seizes the Sword. We may only have this day to accomplish our goal.”

"We shall see," Calrom continued the thought.


----------



## howandwhy99

*Calrom's restless thoughts before sleep...  (PG13)*

May the Gods burn it all! 

This is easily the worst hiding trip, yet. Not only have I been seen by Dalesfolk, but I've stupidly gone ahead and thrown in my lot with a group which includes two of the bastard race. The first was easily despised: a female who whored herself out to every beast willing to mount her. But the other is a Keeper of the Secrets of the Earth. Mother would want to meet him. And by the rites I am supposed to lead him to her. 

*ugh* Damn it all...

But... I don't think he has recognized me yet. Perhaps he's from another Dale. Or perhaps he's spent too much time with his own breed and hasn't heard of me. Well, my real identity.

Curses! Why didn't I give them a false name? Calrom Nathos is as uncommon a handle as a jeweled doorknob. The whole of that sewer town Tilverton is probably looking for me too now. I mean, it was funny when the female was damned to hang as surely as the rest of us. (I could smell the fear on her. She hid it well, but I am becoming more and more attuned to her lies) But now that the Gods have cursed her with an outside to reflect what's on her insides, I doubt any lie could prove her guilt. 

At least the rest of the group has some honor. The Battlecleric of Lathandar is a half-decent leader when he decides to be. He's as stubborn and blind as the rest of the sun worshippers, but he has brought me back from the brink of death more than one time. The shortfolk's humour has been a blessing, as well. If only we weren't stupidly courting our own deaths. 

And why am I down here? A mission for the church, of course. And not mine. At least it's kept me out of town. And out of Mistledale proper. The Barrowmounds is a hell of a place to hide, though. Four times we've sallied into the center mounds below. And with luck, a fourth time I'll return. With or without.

I guess one good thing has come out of this last trip. Mulebone is as fierce an animal as any I've known. A real fighter. And what strength! Why the smell alone could knock a man down. By the Gods, I wonder how the others will sleep this night. But this is pure heaven for a country boy like me. Like taking the forest with me wherever I go. That lousy farmer was just going to work him to death anyhow. Rothe deserve to run free.


Hmm... I wonder when Alya will bed down? Mulebone could use a nice snack. *snicker* But she makes me wonder. Why would one of her own kind choose to bring her spirit back in the form of such a hated creature? Vengeance? A lost bet? Some twisted joke? It's so unlike a Druid. Ahh well. If there is one truth that never changes, it's that all Elves are the same at heart.


----------



## arielslover

*A druid's thoughts on events past...*


...What a journey it's been ever since I decided to leave the
grove. When Nerisella and I volunteered to investigate the
foresting outside of Cormanthor, I never thought I'd end up where
I'm at today. Now, as I write this, I've lost Nerisella, helped
turn a fellow elf into a creature of the night, and do not see
myself getting any closer to investigating the foresting.

All is not lost, however. I have replaced Nerisella with Jake, a
brown bear. What he lacks in grace and sophistication, he more than
makes up for it in brute strength. I'd love to bring him back to
the grove to see what everyone thinks of him. I will have to make
sure he doesn't feast on the other animals that our group has, or
the little kobold that is now adventuring with us. The group I
speak of is quite an interesting lot. I met them through a gnome
that I had met upon entering Tilverton. His name is Sully. He is a
wizard of some sort. I've noticed over the course of our adventure
that his balls of lightning tend to damage the party as much as our
enemies. Nerisella got toasted once or twice by him. He means
well, though. The rest of the party consists of Darian, a priest of
Lathandar; Alya, an elven bard; Fiddle, a halfling scout; and
Calrom, a fellow fighter for the wildernerness.

Calrom concerns me. While he fights for the land, he seems to have
this condemnation for elves. I fear this hatred will begin to
consume and overwhelm him. Sometimes, I lay at night half-expecting
a throwing axe to come flying at me. I want to trust him, but I'm
not sure he would help me if I needed it. Perhaps a letter to the
Circle asking for guidance would be a wise choice.

The elven maiden is probably another matter that should be deferred
to the council. When she died, I did my best to help raise her.
However, there are many enemies of elves, and I fear one of them
caused the raising to go bad. Nature always has a way to balance
herself. My feelings on her are torn. The body is a kobold, but
the mind is an elf. How can I chastise Calrom for his beliefs when
I have similar ones for kobolds and dark elves? Perhaps the Circle
will know a way to restore her elven form.

I must get some rest soon. We have been busy trying to recover a
sword for Darian's church. I'm concerned that our tampering will
alter the balance. Perhaps there is a way to accomplish Darian's
goals without doing too much harm.


----------



## diaglo

so now you see a couple others have added their thoughts. expect an update after this coming Sunday's session.


----------



## howandwhy99

*Reader Feedback*

Hey y'all,

I know plenty of people have looked at this thread from the view count.  Why don't we hear from our faithful readers?  How do you all like the story so far?  Who is your favorite character besides Calrom?  Any exciting events you would like to see happen?  Any powerful magic items you want to be given to your favorite character?

Speak up and let us know.


----------



## diaglo

*A fireside chat...the council of war*

"Let us try the new door," Arendel suggested. "Now that the vampire is gone there is nothing to prevent us from continuing."

"First we should discuss some things, Marcus of Tyr," Fiddle interrupted.

"What were those frog things?" Darian asked. "Can you describe them."

"Very well," Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian drew closer. "We trust you. You have proven yourselves in combat to be worthy. Let us continue together." He then went into detail about the large frog creatures. And he sketched on Fiddle's map all the areas they had explored.

"I know what they are," Alya piped in. "They are other worldly beings. They are called Salad. There are Green, Chef, Chicken, Tuna, and other varieties. The ones you describe are Caesar Salads. I don't think we should mess them unless we have to. The other door or the pool are our best and safest choices."

"The pit was a tight fit," Fiddle mentioned. "I don't think the animals will make it."

The party tried to figure a way to get the animals down, but nothing came to them. They finally decided the door was their only option. Maybe it led down also.

"And there is still the problem of our pursurers and those we pursue," Darian concluded.

"How so?" Marcus of Tyr asked.

Fiddle went into great detail about his theories on whom may be involved. Calrom added a few things. Sully, Darian and Alya got nervous as Fiddle continued to ramble. Arendel still didn't know what to think of the party.

"You robbed the Vladaam Estate," Marcus of Tyr shook his head. "And you accuse the Harper Nicolon Regis, an acquaintance of mine of framing you. I must think on this. I should take you back to Tilverton immediately, but I am sworn to complete this quest."

Fiddle tried to continue with his helpfulness. Darian waved his mace menacingly and raised his eyebrows. The body language spoke volumes. Calrom eventually got Fiddle's attention.

"How do we get Darian out of the room to steal the sword and necklace of keys from Marcus?" Calrom whispered.  "Should we let Sully in on this?"

Fiddle shook his head. He knew the paladin would come to see the light. A little while passed. Marcus and Vaesillian talked.

"If you will agree to a test," Marcus of Tyr spoke up. "We will get to the bottom of this tale."

"Test?" Arendel fidgeted. "What kind of test? Maybe we can wait."

"Come now," Marcus of Tyr hurumphed. "It is not painful."

"I agree," Fiddle smiled.

"As do the rest of us," Calrom hurriedly added. "If Darian thinks it best."

"I see no problem," Darian shrugged. 

Marcus of Tyr concentrated. "It is done. You do not lack the moral fiber for which these crimes speak so readily against. I believe you. But we will conclude this investigation later."


----------



## diaglo

*Door to door saleshin...*

Fiddle approached the door. Everyone stood at a distance.

"Are you ready," Fiddle smirked.

Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian strode forward. "Onward."

Fiddle opened the door. A corridor. Calrom and he quickly scouted ahead. They found several more doors and a chamber before the corridor made a bend. Another of those generator rooms. They also found a stairway leading down. The party split up. Half wandered aimlessly ahead by the doors. Half hung back by the stairway. Fiddle tried his own route. He stood guard by the generator.

"Fiddle," Calrom called. "Come look at these doors."

Fiddle turned to see two bane room doors. Both were unlocked. And both were empty.

"Marcus of Tyr," Fiddle called. "Do you want to seal these still? They are empty." Fiddle stood by to provide a light while Marcus went to work. Marcus of Tyr painted the doors and spiked them. Fiddle hummed a tune. (Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood would be proud)

Calrom, Alya, Arendel, the Bear, and Sully had already gone around the bend. Arendel cast _light_ Calrom's armor. This did not make the ranger happy. Darian and Vaesillian soon vanished down the stairway. Fiddle continued to watch the paladin work. Mulebone, Marmaduke, and Redd hung back by the Altar room.

"This one's open too," Calrom called back to Fiddle. "Don't you want to see?"

"Anon," Fiddle called back. "Anon we will be along shortly."

When Marcus of Tyr finished, he and Fiddle went to catch up. The corridor got colder as they approached. The others stood near another chamber. It was near freezing. Light sources were limited. Fiddle broke out his new candles. He handed one to Arendel and Sully. And dropped one into a dark pit beside a badger. The badger vanished a few moments later. The light went out a few feet down into the pit.

WWWwwwhhhhammmmm

Calrom was thrown against the wall. A jolt struck him from the only unopened door as he had seized the handle. Fiddle checked the door. The trap was spent. He opened the door and rolled aside. Alya peeked inside.

An iron padlocked chest wrapped in heavy chains. A black mark covered the back wall. The sign of the hands burned into the plaster.


----------



## biorph

*reader response*

well as reader I think Calrom should get a cursed "belt of gender bending and mindless obedience and servitude to elves"


----------



## diaglo

*Traps, tricks, and treats*

Fiddle went next door. Inside he found 3 desiccated corpses, two orcs and an Ogre. The room was empty otherwise.

"Fiddle," Alya sang out from the chest room. "Why don't you open this lock for us?"

"I'm not feeling inspired," Fiddle responded. "Where is my muse. What is my motivation. I'm just not..."

Alya planted the _suggestion_ into Fiddle's mind. She also helped inspire him by singing words of encouragement as he worked on the chest.

Clickk.

"Done," Fiddle said. "I haven't detected any other problems or detriments to opening this chest. But I'm not doing it."

"Shall I?" Marcus of Tyr asked. He moved forward. Fiddle backed out of the room.

From inside the chest Marcus of Tyr pulled out a mace, 5 crossbow bolts with strange metal heads, a pearl, and a ring. Arendel played with the ring before handing it to Alya. Marcus of Tyr held onto the mace, pearl, and bolts.

"Not all of the banes were evil," Alya remarked. "However, these are all magical. I suppose Darian would be interested in many of them. There isn't anything else down this way anyway. Lets go find the rest."

The party returned to the stairway. Vaesillian and Darian stood most of the way down. There was a chamber beyond with 8 statues. Darian noted that some of them were familiar: Danar, Parnaith his wife, and the angel Bastian; while others were unknowns. Marcus of Tyr handed Darian the items from the chest.

Fiddle checked the bottom of the stairs and the floor. No traps. There was a set of double doors across the way. He stepped forward to examine the first statue, Danar. There was a bright flash as a wall of multiple colors appeared opposite the stairs.

"Well there are guarding something very important," Sully surmised. "That is a very potent spell. My guess is we want to go that way."

The spellcasters discussed how to bring down the wall. In the meantime, Calrom played around with one of the statues. Danar. It pivoted. Alya went to another one across the way. As she moved it. The original one went back to its former position.

"A combination lock," Fiddle yelled. "Just like the one to open the plug. But this one has more parts. It could take us some time."

The party played around with the statues. On the 12th try they got it right. They heard a gong and then a popping sound. Everyone backed away to the stairs.


----------



## diaglo

*The light flickers but doesnt' falter*

Two dwarf like constructs made of stone holding metal hammers appeared as the wall collapsed. The doors behind them were open. They stood at attention for a moment at the entrance to the chamber and then turned in unison and exited.

"Onward," Marcus of Tyr called. "It appears our way is clear."

"Are you sure they are safe?" Fiddle asked. "The last construct I met was not very friendly."

"We will destroy them if not," Darian smiled. "Just don't play around with them afterwards."

Before the party had time to say or do much Marcus of Tyr cried out, "In Tyr's Name to me."

Arendel and the Bear were already in the next chamber. Alya, Darian, Fiddle, Sully, and Calrom had to run to catch up. Calrom soon outdistanced the pack.

"I'm weakened," Marcus of Tyr shouted again. "But I will not falter. Lathanderite, I could use your help."

By the time Fiddle got thru the first doors, Vaesillian had fallen. There was another chamber. The foes were the incorporeal undead. Spectres by the look of them. Calrom had his rapier out and was in melee.

Darian presented his symbol, "By the Light of Lathander, Be gone foul things."

Two of the spectres winked out of existence. A third fought with Marcus of Tyr. Fiddle couldn't get around the Bear nor the rest of the crowd blocking the door.

Darian entered the battle with his new mace. Whack. The spectre vanished.

"What the..." Fiddle tumbled into the room. He went to Vaesillian's side. She was dead.

Darian stood still. A look of complete joy had overcome him. Marcus of Tyr sprinkled his fallen comrade with holy water. He arranged her things as a show of honor and said a brief eulogy.

"I don't think we should go much further," Alya said. "Perhaps we should rest."

Fiddle searched around the room. He found a secret panel on the West wall. He slid it open and the wall moved. A corridor lay beyond his light. Calrom found some tracks. He and Fiddle scouted ahead. Mulebone, Marmaduke and Redd stayed behind. They followed the tracks into another chamber. The room had silver arches at the East and West. Fiddle checked them for magical traps. Nothing. The ceiling was vaulted and covered with artwork. Angels and metallic dragons. They followed the tracks out to the West. Fiddle found two doors. He
examined his map. He opened the door to the South. The one to the North was a bane door. The corridor had continued with the tracks.

"Where are you going?" Sully ran to catch up.

"It circles back to the pool door," Fiddle showed him.

The rest of the party caught up. Alya found a side chamber full of trash. She felt almost strangely comfortable inside.

"We have several options," Calrom stated. "We can follow the tracks.
We can stay here and rest. Or we can go back."


----------



## diaglo

*Dragon talker...*

"I cannot rest with so large a question as to where those tracks lead," Sully spoke up. "With the mind flayer and the other unwanted visitors about, I just would not sleep."

"Marcus of Tyr," Darian asked. "Do you feel up to the task? Perhaps you should guard the rear."

"I will continue if you will," Marcus of Tyr offered. But he clearly looked like he suffered from his injuries.

Fiddle led the way back into the corridor. It soon opened into a very large room. A large silver throne hovered mid air. It was built for a very large being, one not really humanoid in shape. The center of the room was the most interesting. It was smoky glass. As Fiddle got a closer look he saw a figure. A large snaky form with a long neck, four legs, and massive wings. A dragon. He did a little dance, made a little love, and got down that night.

"It is a good thing you are inside that glass," Fiddle taunted. "I, Fiddle Skipstone, Dragon slayer, would have shown you no mercy."

Fiddle prattled on and on. Finally the others came to investigate the ruckus. There were two doors in the immediate vicinity, one to the South and one to the West, plus a wide hall to the Northwest. Fiddle went to the West door. It was unlocked. Inside was a small chamber. A series of of circular plates made of gold, bronze, silver, iron, marble and wood decorated the west wall. There were 5 rows of each material in random order. Fiddle closed the door and played his hunch.

Just as he leapt to touch the last silver plate, Sully opened the door. A roar issued from the main room. A serpentine head broke the surface of where the glass once covered. The challenge was on....

Everyone was clearly shaken to their core. Arendel and the Bear fled the chamber. The dragon puffed up and exhaled. None in its path could withstand the blast. They all froze in place. Darian, Alya, Calrom, and Marcus of Tyr were helpless. Sully moved closed the door.

Fiddle strode forward. He opened the door and shouted in the language of the dragons.

"OH MIGHTY KING OF THE SILVER DRAGONS I HAVE SET YOU FREE FROM YOUR LONG SLUMBER."

Arendel did not return. 

The Dragon paused, shook himself as if collecting a lost thought, and turned to Fiddle. "How long?"

"Thirteen hundred and forty one years since the Dread Lord Malkith fell," Fiddle replied. He droned on and on about everything and anything he could to bide time. It would be awhile before the others would return to their normal selves.

"I am Saggarintys, friend of Danar and former foe of Malkith. I tried to stop him and failed. I was imprisoned thus. And you are?"

"Fiddle Skipstone," Fiddle replied. "Dragonslayer..."

The dragon reared back and started to flick his tail.

"And these are my boon companions...The paladin Marcus of Tyr, The priest Darian of Lathander although he would be a priest of Amaniwater in your day, The elf druid Arendel, The kobold bard Alya, and the Ranger Calrom....and my ...

"Come out little gnome," Saggarintys called in Common.

"And I am Ozlo Sullygrub," Sully tried to lighten the moment. "You can call me Sully, like all my friends do."

The dragon stopped twitching.


----------



## diaglo

*A good Knight's rest...*

"You say Malkith fell," Saggarintys asked. "What else has happened I wonder."

Fiddle filled in what he could. Eventually enough chatter had occurred for the others to snap out of it. Arendel returned. The bear would not.

"I am hungry," Saggarintys sniffed the air. "And I smell something wonderful to eat."

Fiddle waved his arms at Calrom and pantomimed a course of action.

"It is not polite to whisper," the dragon nodded.

"I was just telling my friend Calrom to see to his animal companion," Fiddle smiled. "All of our companions."

"Oh, very well, I will not eat them," the dragon sighed. "Come if you wish I would check on some of the warrens. It is good you did not open this bane door." He said as they passed the first set of doors. "The guardian would have easily slain you all."

Arendel grimaced for he had tried. Alya practically swooned. He followed the dragon around like a lost puppy dog. And he almost looked like one too, but for the scales and horns.

"Fiddle we should have words," Darian finally said when he had Fiddle alone. "What were you thinking?"

"I played a hunch," the hin replied. "It payed off. We now have a rearguard. But wouldn't his head look nice on my mantle."

"Fiddle?" Darian shrugged and went to relax.

The Dragon took the party to the generator room. He curled around the base and sat contemplating. Fiddle, Calrom, Sully and their animals went back to the room with panels on the wall. Fiddle explained his theory and what he did. They set up camp and then told the others how to stir them safely. Fiddle set a trap on the door. And Calrom placed an audible spell trigger, just in case. Alya, Darian, Marcus of Tyr, and Arendel stayed with the Dragon and rested.


----------



## diaglo

*Going down...another layer off the onion*

Sometime during Fiddle's babbling he had mentioned the purpose of the party's expedition. And Darian had reaffirmed it. The next morning there was a knock at the door. Fiddle gave the counter reply. And then there was  a pause and a  

"Are you coming or what?" from Alya.

The party was ready to go. The colo(u)r had returned to Marcus of Tyr's face. Arendel opened the door to the South. Another corridor with stairs going up. At the top of the landing was a part of the wall ajar. Calrom found the tracks again. They led from here back to the Northwest passage in the Dragon's room and to a set of double doors. Fiddle checked the doors and then opened them.

A stone statue of an elf woman holding a silver ewer pouring water into a fountain was the only furnishing. The statue's head turned to Fiddle.

"What does it mean to be good?" she asked.

"Do the right thing," Fiddle blurted out. "The famous bard Spike Lee always tells us to DO the Right Thing."

"To be virtuous and righteous," Darian added. "To keep true to your ideals."

The statue's head returned to its initial state and the wall in the corner opened. Fiddle refilled his empty waterskin in the fountain after checking for trouble. Nothing lived in the water. But it looked and felt normal enough. He didn't try it. Not until he was really thirsty. Who knew when they would find water again. And food for that matter. He checked his pack. He had enough for only 8 more meals...about 2 days.

The wall led to a door. And the door was at the top of a set of stairs. Going down....Fiddle marked the walls and banged on the steps the whole way down. He made sure it was safe. He had heard too many tales about collapsing staircases and slides to pits of fire...They came to a landing and then a cavern. The ledge they were on had spikes for rope, but no way across. The opposite ledge was 60 ft or so away.

"The perfect spot for an ambush," Fiddle smacked his forehead.


----------



## diaglo

*Mind games...*

Sully and Alya agreed to change form. Sully into a pixie and Alya into an Avariel. Sully would carry Redd. And Alya would carry Fiddle. Fiddle held onto a rope. He and Calrom secured the rope on this side. Calrom and the others would cover the recon team with their bows.

They made it safe. Fiddle quickly tied the rope off. Alya and Sully went to scout ahead. Fiddle turned back to the others to let them know all was safe. When he turned back to Alya and Sully...a familiar blast of energy struck his mind. The mind flayer had done it again. Fiddle couldn't move. He saw a blast of Lightning out of the corner of his eye. Sully must be free he thought. And then a bright light streaked past. One of Darian's light spells.

"Fear not, Alya," Marcus of Tyr called out. "I'm coming."

Something was wrong with Alya. But Fiddle couldn't see. And then another ball of Lightning exploded.

"It is done," Sully yelled in relief. "We are victorious."

"I'm done for," Marcus of Tyr yelled. His voice trailing off. "Continue the quest....."

(There was much activity for the next half of a minute, but Fiddle could neither see in that direction nor move)

Feeling returned. Fiddle scrambled to the mind flayer. The others were gathered on either side of the cavern looking down. The body was on a stairs leading down. He rifled thru the mind flayer's things. A pouch with two vials; one empty, one full; and two rings on the mind flayer's hands. Fiddle didn't have time to pry the rings, so he cut the fingers and pocketed them. He scouted ahead. There were 7 more bodies. Whether the lightning killed them or the mind flayer Fiddle couldn't tell. He went back to the others. A hippogriff dropped Marcus of Tyr on this side of the cavern. A large eagle, Arendel, buffeted the paladin with its wings. Calrom and Darian glided across the rope. Neither made it without some trouble. The animals had to stay behind.

"Marmaduke," Fiddle yelled. "Guard Mulebone."

The Brown bear, Rothe, and Riding dog made an odd group.

"And what did you find, Fiddle?" Alya asked.

"Sully," Fiddle said. "I think you killed several more things with your Lightning balls. I found 7 more bodies."

"Fiddle the Mind Flayer is missing its fingers," Darian called out.

"I wonder how that happened," Fiddle shrugged and scouted ahead.


----------



## diaglo

*Halfling tossing*

Fiddle thought fast. He dumped the pouch and the rings among the other corpses.

"Hey," he yelled back. "Look what I found."

"Sure, Fiddle," Darian smiled. "What is it? Mind flayer fingers."

"They are mine," Fiddle snapped. "I get some kind of trophy."

The spellcasters tried to decipher the magic auras on the rings. One was a familiar bone ring. Darian tucked it into his pouch of things to destroy. The other radiated protective magic. Fiddle put it on. And no one had any luck with the potion vial. Fiddle replaced that into his potion belt. He also put the empty vial away just in case he found something later.

Another stairway down. At the bottom Fiddle's light blinked out. He tumbled back. And felt for the wall. The light returned.

"A no magic zone?" Sully guessed. "Why'd it have to be another no magic zone."

"Anyone got a torch?" Calrom asked.

"Of course," Marcus of Tyr reached into his overloaded pack. "Doesn't everyone have adventuring gear?"

"Nope," Fiddle laughed. "I left mine back with the horses."

"We have stuff with our houses too," Marcus started to say.

"Had," Calrom reminded him. The ranger held up what few useful items remained.

Fiddle took a torch and went ahead. Calrom beside him. They found another ledge and another cavern. A shorter crossing this time. But still one of difficulty without their magic. Darian, Calrom, and Marcus of Tyr held a rope while Fiddle tied it around his waist.

"When I get over there you should be able to follow," Fiddle said. He took a step off the ledge and held onto the wall. It was slick. Too slick. He fell a couple feet.

"Perhaps we should try something else?" Darian proposed. 

Fiddle stepped back and made a running leap. He jumped halfway to the ledge. He grabbed the wall for a few seconds and then....Smack. He banged against the ledge 15 ft down. The others hauled him up.

"Good try and a good idea," Darian beamed. "Maybe we can help. How much do you weigh?"

Fiddle sailed out over the ledge the others help launch him. He grabbed the wall safely this time. Twenty-three feet. Another twelve and he would be safe. He squirmed to the side. No footing. Smack....

Again he sailed over the ledge...Twenty-five feet this time. And he found better footing. He easily scrambled down to the new ledge. His face smarted from the previous attempts. He secured the rope. The others followed.


----------



## diaglo

*Lightning Fodder*

Fiddle struck his torch. He edged ahead. Nothing. Another tunnel. A few feet later his coin relit. He doused the torch. A small proper room. It contained broken tools and bones. It reminded Fiddle of an old work area. The others caught up. A few feet further along they came upon another abandoned work site. This one had 2 doors. Fiddle had no trouble with one door. The West room had 5 squat constructs. Fiddle remembered them from near the Octopus Room. Nothing else. The South door took some doing. Fiddle couldn't pick the lock. And the others pounded away. Marcus of Tyr, Darian, and Calrom bulled it open. They found themselves staring at another Bane door. Marcus of Tyr quickly went to work painting the outside.

"Well we've woken up any other possible foes," Alya stated. "I guess it is safe ahead."

The party had a bite to eat. They planned what to do next. Marcus of Tyr scouted. He found another large chamber with irregular carved walls, a series of stairs some going up and some down. The party followed. Fiddle stood guard at the midway point with Marcus of Tyr, Calrom, and Darian. Arendel climbed took the stairs up. Sully and Alya went with him.

A movement caught Fiddle's eye. A mob approached. He tossed Hole Punch and moved aside. His toss hit a gray skinned humanoid in the throat. It was dead before it hit the ground. Darian nonetheless tried to get the mob to retreat. He presented his holy symbol. They only looked undead. Alya covered the stairs with _Grease_ magic. Arendel looked down on the group. He fired his bow.  Marcus of Tyr charged the group. He slipped in the grease and tumbled a few feet. Sully had more luck. With such a tight formation it was almost too much for the sensitive gnome. They would be slaughtered. He dropped a ball of Lightning in the middle of the group. Only two on the edge still stood. Calrom fired down into the group. Only 1 remained.

Fiddle tossed Hole Punch again. It was a long throw. The creature moved forward. Darian waited. Alya ended the threat with a well placed arrow. She dismissed her spell. Marcus of Tyr regained his feet. The party scoured the floor below. It led nowhere. But they found the sleeping quarters of the beastmen. The way up was their next stop.

It wound around and around and finally came out on a platform. The beastmen were still dead below. Fiddle guessed from his map they were headed East. The platform opened into a chamber. One door in the far South wall. And a stairway in the middle of the room going down. Way down. Beyond the light and sight of any in the party. Fiddle tried the door. The door was unlocked. A small proper room. An orc and a pie were sketched on the back wall in bas relief. Also a fading Sun symbol. Darian spent time cleaning off the graffiti and restoring the original scene.


----------



## diaglo

*The Baneheart*

The party went down. Fiddle checked and marked every step on the way. Finally they came to a landing. The walls were worked, gray stone. A 50 X 30 ft room with a vaulted ceiling which spanned nearly 40ft. The largest feature was a metallic statue. Metal blades and terrible serrated plates covered the tall, demonic humanoid. This could only be Eslathagos Malkith, The Dread Lord. The air was cold and heavy.  An exit to an even larger chamber was in the Northeast corner of the room. The party could almost taste the evil and feel the power from the magic of the Banes.

This was the Baneheart.

"Somewhere in that next chamber on the Eastern side, 120 ft below is the Sword," Fiddle stated.

Arendel examined the statue. The others went to check the room too. Finally they edged to the Northeast. The chamber was huge and foreboding. A dull glow shone here. The party stood on the lip of a great hole. A mile maybe more deep. And on occassion thin bridges led from one side of the shaft to the other.

"She got the gold mine," Fiddle sang out. "And I got the shaft."

"Now what?" Alya asked.

"I think I may have a solution," Sully smiled. "I have been working on creating a new magic since we left Amarak's Tomb. Hopefully it will be just what we need."


----------



## diaglo

update after this Sunday's session.

the party is on the brink of completion of their quest. soon darian will have his geas lifted.

we just need to fly/dimension door down to the eastern door. open it. avoid the traps, constructs, summoned monsters, undead, whatever and solve the riddle of steel. to claim the sword of truth, lies, and videotape.

if some other group hasn't already.

then flee back to the surface to get the dragon to seal the deal.


----------



## diaglo

*Hag Warts*

The party stood in hushed silence. They knew they had reached their final destination.

"Fiddle let us scout ahead," Calrom finally whispered.

Fiddle nodded. The two rangers quietly vanished in the shadows. They rounded the corner. There was a rim around the pit. Six doors were evenly spaced around the rim. Several feet away a Large hunched cowled figure tugged at one of the doors. Calrom backpedaled. Fiddle stayed put.

"There is trouble ahead," Calrom whispered to the others. "Big nasty monster trouble."

Alya wandered close to the rim to see. He began singing his lilting spellsongs. The creature turned to face him. A bent crone whose shape belied her fierce power and swiftness. She was troll like in appearance with a green hue and many heavy wrinkles. Her eyes shone with villainy and cunning  She carried an axe that dripped blood onto the floor. Alya's song fascinated the hag.

Sully, Arendel, and Calrom moved into position on the shelf. Fiddle stepped further into the shadows. Darian quickly struck the creature in the face with a blast of light. The fascination was broken. She vanished from sight.

Arendel and Calrom waited with spell and bow handy. Sully tried to light up the area to make the hag visible again.

She reappeared in another area. She leveled the axe at Calrom from 10ft away. A gout of blood covered him and caused him pain. The party quickly returned fire. Fiddle held his position. He knew she would soon close and expose herself.

She pulled a wand out with her other hand and struck Alya and Sully with a bolt of lightning. Some of the party's spells worked and some did not. Still the hag was injured. She charged forward at Sully with the axe.

And Fiddle struck. Lightning Strike bit deep. Darian too leveled a blow with his mace. Fiddle followed up with three more stabs. Lightning Strike, Hole Punch, Lightning Strike. The hag fell. Calrom shot two arrows into the corpse just to make sure.

Alya searched the body. He found a bone ring, a scroll in a pouch, a finely crafted mithril ring with 3 dull gemstones, the wand of lightning, and the bloody axe. It was still dripping. Fiddle noted scars on the Hag's arms. Calrom took the axe and handed Arendel his rapier.

Fiddle whispered to Darian, "Look at the hag's forearms and the blood is...the same on the axe. I think this is a bane." Alya overheard it.

"Oh Calrom," Alya smiled. He wasn't going to let it be easy for the half-breed.


----------



## diaglo

*Pick a winner*

"There goes the ring of wishes, too," Fiddle swore.

The party dumped the body. Marcus of Tyr finally appeared. He had gone to take care of nature's business. Fiddle quickly asked him to paint the doors. 

"And down we go," Alya transformed into an Avariel.  He carried Fiddle down. He transformed into a trog when they landed.

Sully opened a doorway down for he, Darian, and Calrom. Arendel became a Large Bat. The druid grabbed Marcus of Tyr midpaint and plunged below. The party now stood on a walkway 120 ft from their starting point.

"The door to the East..." Fiddle started to say. It was ajar.

He and Calrom quickly scouted ahead. Calrom heard some noise inside. He pushed the door further open. A large metal statue with a sword stood at the back of the entryway. Two chambers led off behind it. Fiddle hit the statue with his light coin. It didn't lose its magic nor did the statue react. He tumbled into the room. The figure moved. It brought its weapon to the ready.  Calrom likewise entered. 

Fiddle crept forward. Images of the last construct he meant still danced about in his conscious memory. He cautiously retrieved his coin. The others entered. The party chose the Southern Chamber. It had 3 doors, a wall full of shields, and a painting on the far wall. Darian and Marcus of Tyr went to examine the painting. Fiddle got one of the shields down and played with it.

"That door is the one," Fiddle stated with confidence.

"And what makes you so sure," Sully asked.

Fiddle shrugged. He grew bored and went back to the statue and the other chamber. Calrom, Sully, and Alya each picked a door and listened. Calrom's door was locked. He played with the handle.

Fiddle had just reached the Northern Chamber. A mangled statue and a skeleton occupied the room.

"Calrom, Come here." Fiddle shouted.

Calrom tugged on the door. "No, you come here..."

The door by Sully opened and two wolflike humanoids strode out.


----------



## diaglo

*Fight or Flee*

The door handle went still in the Northern Chamber.

"Calrom?" Fiddle puzzled. He heard the clash of arms and saw a brilliant flash of light from the Southern Chamber. He edged around the corner with weapons drawn.

Two wolfmen and a woman were engaged in melee with Calrom, Sully, and Marcus of Tyr. Darian and Arendel hung back. Alya lay covered in his own blood at the woman's feet. She looked familiar, but also devilish. She had small horns on her head under a headband. The image of Nicolon flashed into Fiddle's head. Sully too was in dire need of aid. No one noticed the hin. Fiddle flung Hole Punch. It should've bit deep into the kidneys of one of the wolfmen. It barely made a scratch. But it was enough to get the creature's attention.

Sully shouted a spell at the woman. She dropped the sword and ran for the exit. Lightning Strike left a scratch. One wolfman attacked Fiddle.

"Pick it up you fools," the woman commanded. "And follow me."

Calrom dropped the bloody axe and leapt at the remaining wolfman. Darian fired an errant crossbow bolt at the woman. Arendel called down a bolt of lightning on one of the wolfmen. Fiddle stepped back and tossed Hole Punch again. It struck true, but left not even a mark.

"She's getting away," Fiddle yelled. "But she's left the sword of lies."

A cackle of electricity hit all around Fiddle. He escaped unscathed. He looked at his new ring and smiled. "That's how the mind flayer did it," he thought. Plus he was nimble of foot.

The wolfmen weren't so lucky. One picked up the sword the other collapsed. The woman was gone. Redd tried valiantly to slow her. He took a nip at her heels.

"Are you sure it is the sword Fiddle?" Sully yelled. "I've only got one shot at this."

The other wolfman hurried for the door. He too underestimated the gnome's magic. He tossed the sword far away, over the pit. It would've plummeted if not for the gnome's fast thinking. It floated like a feather. Arendel streaked past in the form of a large hawk. He snatched the sword. Marcus of Tyr, Calrom, and Darian gave chase after the woman and wolfman. The woman was long gone. The wolfman was not so lucky. Arendel's storm knocked him from the ledge. Down, down, down....

Fiddle searched the other wolfman for a potion of healing or anything else that might be useful. Alya was still down. Sully was already there pouring a potion down the kobold's throat. The two casters were both so close to death's door. Fiddle stayed to protect them in case something else came from the doors.

Fiddle did find some useful items, but not a potion. It was then Fiddle realized he too had taken a few blows during the combat.


----------



## howandwhy99

*Short Calromian Interlude*

Hefting the dead hag’s bloodied axe and feeling the weight of it in his hand, Calrom thought, “this should come in useful”.

As much progress as the team had made in the last few hours, he was actually very frustrated. Always trying to bring his bow to bear around sharp corners and backing off from advancing foes was wearing him thin. It may be his weapon of choice, but his bow wasn’t really doing him any favors lately. After being Orc-rushed so many times, the blood dripping axe might be better after all.

Drip Drip Drip. Yep, still dripping; I wonder why that is, anyways?

Darian and Alya were watching him closely while talking quietly in a corner. Calrom stared back. “Yeah, that right. I plan on using this little holiest of the holies”.

The rest of the group was moving now about six rings deeper into the core. 

“Baneheart”, Calrom thought, “banes have no hearts.”

Sully was demonstrating his new ability to ‘door’ people from one space to another. Rather weird really, but damn if the little guy wasn’t useful. Unfortunately, Calrom got to ride down, if you can call being hauled underarm by a dire bat and some celestial bird-like creature riding. 

It irritated him to no end when they did that. Why did the two elves feel so compelled to shapeshift every five seconds? How do they expect him to tell them apart from potential foes? 

Maybe he’d shoot one in battle next time on ‘accident’. That would be funny. Well, okay maybe not funny. But who do they think they are swinging him over a mile deep pit that holds all the evils of the world, while the others simply –pop- down? At least Marcus of Tyr had to undergo the same injustice.

He liked Marcus, but often times he didn’t exactly seem all there. Sure, he was valiant and all that, but charging into battle on a tightrope across a cavern ravine? Nope, Marcus was not his kind of hero; certainly no Kelerescent. 

Damn, Damn! He didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for that one. But how did he know that giving into the has-been elf’s wishes would lead to Kelerescent’s death? It all seems so unwarranted now; Alya no longer being an elf and the Sword of Lies almost in their grasp. 

Or the Sword of Truth. Or whatever name the hell-cursed thing had now.

Sully was speaking up ahead. Apparently, the door to the sword had already been opened. “…one hundred twenty feet below, in the Baneheart, through the East door…” Sully was reciting what the accursed armor of Tiran Invir had told them above. With the rest of the group hanging back on the curved balcony and bridge of the Baneheart, Calrom and Fiddle advanced into the room.

Well, actually, first Fiddle spied into the room and seeing a large metal statue like the spiky one above decided to toss his glowing coin at it. The room was unnaturally lit just like the Baneheart. Fiddle’s coin cracked against metal and fell five feet from the statue. THEN Calrom advanced into the room a few feet, tugging Fiddle alongside.

The room was shaped like a two pronged fork with both of the far passages leading away to the East. The metal statue stood guard in the center.

Both tiptoed forward and Fiddle moved closer to retrieve his coin. His hand out, grasping but a few inches away from the coin, Fiddle froze in place. The statue SCREEACHED as it changed into a defensive poster. 

No one moved for a few seconds. Then slowly, very carefully, Fiddle reached down and grabbed his coin. He pocketed it and moved back near Calrom.

The metal statue remained motionless; it’s posture on the hair’s breadth of charging forward.

“Left or right?” whispered Fiddle. 

Hmm… “Let’s go right”, replied Calrom. 

“Why right?”

“I don’t know, because it’s closer to us and farther from the statue?”

Traveling a few feet into the right passageway they could see a door on the right-hand side in the familiar style of the banedoors. Odd shields hung along the walls. Calrom’s superior vision allowed him to see a little farther. The end of the passage opened into a room.

They waved the rest of the team forward. Still the statue remained motionless.

The group of six spread out down the hallway and started inspecting. Darian, Marcus and Arendel moved to the front of the party leading most of them into the room a little ways ahead. It was small with one door to the left. Seeing a mural along the back wall of the room they crossed check it out. Sully and Alya hung back in the hallway near the first door trying to listen for noise. Calrom listened at the door in the room.

“The artwork in this place has been awful”, he thought. “Did no one know how to paint thirteen hundred years ago?” Still, he probably should have looked closer at the dragon ceiling fresco yesterday. All those metallic dragons cavorting in such a nicely drawn sky, it was obviously a warning. “It would at least have saved me from having to change my clothes after that incident”. 

Calrom heard quiet footsteps from the other side of the door. He tried the handle: locked.

"CALROM, COME HERE!" Fiddle shouted from somewhere far down the hall

Calrom knocked on the door. It was obvious to him now that the halfling was also on the other side. "NO, YOU COME HERE..." he yelled.

Suddenly the door near Alya and Sully opened. Two bestial humanoids strolled out. The gnome and kobold immediately started casting, but were quickly razor-cut into their vitals by a black-skinned she-devil –popping- into existence between them. Sully still managed to get a spell off electrifying the air as sparks lit up the small area. Calrom couldn’t quite see, but learned later that Alya went down right away in a bloody mess. 

Arendel began humming to himself as a cloud of smoke formed above his head spilling across the ceiling of the room and into the hallway. More lightening flashed as strokes shot from the cloud into the woman. Darian drew his crossbow and fired at one of the large, muscular creatures, while Marcus charged the other with his axe in hand. 

Calrom hefted the blood dripping axe from the dead hag, “Well, now or never”. He charged at the nearest beast-human. As he drew near he noticed it had a head like a wolf or a jackal. Swinging the battleaxe high over his own head he attacked with all his might… and hit it squarely in the chest. Calrom smiled. But the skin of the beast showed no sign of damage at all.



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> The door handle went still in the Northern Chamber.
> 
> "Calrom?  Fiddle puzzled. He heard the clash of arms and saw a brilliant flash of light from the Southern Chamber. He edged around the corner with weapons drawn.
> 
> Two wolfmen and a woman were engaged in melee with Calrom, Sully, and Marcus of Tyr. Darian and Arendel hung back. Alya lay covered in his own blood at the woman's feet. She looked familiar, but also devilish. She had small horns on her head under a headband. The image of Nicolon flashed into Fiddle's head. Sully too was in dire need of aid. No one noticed the hin. Fiddle flung Hole Punch. It should've bit deep into the kidneys of one of the wolfmen. It barely made a scratch. But it was enough to get the creature's attention.
> 
> Sully shouted a spell at the woman. She dropped the sword and ran for the exit. Lightning Strike left a scratch. One wolfman attacked Fiddle.
> 
> "Pick it up you fools," the woman commanded. "And follow me.".



Calrom saw red. Anger swelled within him and he howled in frustration. Flinging the useless axe to the ground he coiled his legs and leapt at the wolf creature. The growl in his throat died before it could escape. He missed badly.

Marcus swung his own axe also missing. Lightening from Arendel’s cloud crackled again to highlight the point. Without warning a glint of silver flew over Calrom’s shoulder and tore into the creature’s flesh spoiling a newly made wound. “Darian’s crossbow!” he thought.

The four-horned devil-woman fled the hallway out towards the Baneheart. One of her hirelings ran over to pick the sword she had flung, while the other attempted to block the advancing party. Calrom got a good look at the sword: ornate, but vilely carved it was made of metal black as pitch. 



			
				diaglo said:
			
		

> "She's getting away," Fiddle yelled. "But she's left the sword of lies.".



Sully the Gnome, ever backing away now from the battle because of his grievous wounds, let loose with another electrical blast. A sphere of blue-black lightening opened up in the far room as all the color in Calrom’s sight went negative. Fiddle twisted away from the effect, but the two wolf-beasts weren’t so lucky. One fell smoking to the ground.

The other ran to the door of the Baneheart for all it was worth. The Sword of Lies was still in its paws.

Marcus ran ahead to strike at the creature while it still stood in the doorway. He must not have been thinking to clearly as his axe still had no effect. Darian ran to keep up passing under the false danger of the metal statue. Calrom was running past him when Darian shoved the silver bolted crossbow in his hands. Tapping Marcus on the shoulder to see past, “Dodge right!” Calrom fired a shot straight into the chest of the creature. Another foul wound blossomed.

Sully yelled out the name of the sword again and the wolf beast threw it as far from himself as possible… straight into the Baneheart pit! 

Thinking quickly the gnome snapped his fingers, and the sword floated downward gently.

Over Calrom and Marcus’s heads a large hawk flew out the door... “Maybe I should shoot him now?” thought Calrom. …and plucked the Sword of Lies out of the air before anything else could reach it. “Or maybe not”

Darian, Arendel, and Calrom made short work of the last werewolf. Its body fell into the depths of the pit. Arendel still in dire hawk form sped after it. The lady demon-drow was nowhere to be seen.

Later Calrom would learn that she was one of the Vladaam’s. Apparently, Fiddle got a pretty good look at her between dodging lightening sparks. For now, Calrom simply slumped to the ground breathing heavily. This was beginning to be all too much for him. Hiding trips were supposed to be easy. This… this was not easy.


----------



## diaglo

*The chase is on*

"The rope," Fiddle said to Sully. "We must get back before she cuts the rope in the no magic zone."

Sully agreed. Before Darian and Fiddle had a second to react they were back at the top of the pit. Arendel the dire hawk and Alya the avariel hoisted Marcus of Tyr up. Darian had the dripping axe, while Calrom had a crossbow.

"Hurry guys," Darian urged. "Grab Calrom and lets away."

The elves paused for only a second. Fiddle had already gone ahead to scout the stairs. She was good. Almost too good. This she devil had done her homework. Calrom caught up. The party hurried ahead.

Fiddle lit a torch as they entered the no magic zone. Too late. The rope was cut. It dangled from the opposite side. The party debated a few seconds. Sully was, of course, hanging back where the magic was still good. They made a makeshift line out of Arendel's cloaks.

"Toss me," Fiddle yelled. Darian, Calrom, Marcus of Tyr, and Arendel obliged.

Fiddle just grabbed the wall in time. He scooted ahead. He tied the line to the rope and the others pulled it back. Fiddle watched for trouble when he reached the ridge. One by one the party crossed. Sully and Redd came last.

And then they were away again. They ran up a set of stairs. And then faced another cut rope. The animals lingered on the opposite side. Marmaduke barked when he saw Fiddle's light.

"I've got this," Alya whistled and moved his hands. The rope came to their side. "It's easy when you have magic."

Fiddle gave Marmaduke a big hug. Arendel and Calrom were likewise glad to see their companions. Although Mulebone had more than a few saliva tracks on him from the bear. The party ran for the nearest route to the surface. Well, not quite, Fiddle steered the group to the dragon.

"So you have returned," Saggarintys spoke. "And you smell of something. Something not quite right."

Darian smiled and handed over the dripping axe, a bane. The Axe of Previous Wounds according to the dragon. He had not seen the she devil. But Fiddle had guessed that. The party went into an entire rundown of their most recent battles. Fiddle added what he could to shorten the exercise. He bid the dragon farewell and grabbed Calrom. They were off again.


----------



## diaglo

*She strikes*

They ran thru the Altar Room. And slowed as they climbed the stairs.

"The forbiddance," Fiddle whispered to Calrom.

The two rangers exited into the chamber outside the _Forbiddance_.

ARrrrragghh. Calrom fell and was transformed. The she devil had struck from the shadows. Where once she and Calrom stood now remained two humanlike heads with leathery wings. In place of hair, they were crowned with writhing tendrils, and their eyes burned with a menacing green flame. Darian presented his holy symbol. Fiddle rolled aside and tossed Hole Punch. It bit into the she bat.

Arendel called on his magic and spoke to his bear, "Attack."

The bulked up Brown bear lunged past Fiddle and grabbed the former woman. She tried to squirm away. The bear bounced up and down on the thing until it was pulp. She transformed back into her normal dead form. Alya healed the former Calrom. He was alive, but still not himself.

"What do we do with him?" Sully asked. "I don't think we should wake Calrom."

"Can you dispel this magic?" Fiddle hoped aloud. To distract himself he helped Arendel search the woman for an antidote. Nothing. Although, they found many items of worth. One was an obvious bane.

Sully tried several times to break the curse. No luck.

"We need to take this to the dragon," Arendel said. "Maybe he has a cure."

"And if not," Alya giggled. "He can at least take care of Calrom so we don't get our hands dirty."

"We should destroy him," Marcus of Tyr started. "He is a..."

"We leave no one behind," Sully interrupted.

"Except a handful of Tyrians," Fiddle whispered under his breath.


----------



## diaglo

*the Revival*

"Your compatriot is a vargouille," Saggarintys noted. "You really should destroy him before he awakens."

"Is there any way you could dispel his curse?" Sully pleaded. "I've tried multiple times."

"Well the Vargouille Blade is a bane," the Dragon answered referring to a dagger Darian handed over. "I'm not going anywhere today, so I guess I can try."

The dragon concentrated and failed. He tried again. And again.

"I'd be happy to kill him for you," the Dragon said.

"Please," Sully begged.

"Okay, one last time, and then let me rest," the Dragon agreed.

Pooofff.

He was back. Arendel leaned over and healed the ranger.

"Wha...wha..happened?" Calrom sputtered as he looked into the face of the elf. "And what are we doing here?"

"Saving your life," Alya remarked.

The party bid farewell to the Dragon. They promised to find help so the dragon could seal the warrens. But they had no idea who would do the job. Although, the Band of the Burning Hand came to mind as a joke. They easily retraced their steps.

Sully used his wand and had no trouble with the _Forbiddance_. Up, up, up they went. Passed the dead paladin Kalerescent. Darian, Calrom, and Arendel lugged the body to the surface.

The dawn air was fresh. The Sun was almost visible. A beam of light struck Darian.

"To Ashabenford and the Church of Tyr," Marcus of Tyr hinted.

"I think the choice is obvious," Darian smiled. "Tilverton."


----------



## diaglo

*Sleep tight.*

The party collected their horses and their wits back at the campsite.

"We could go to Peldan's Helm and restock before hitting the trail," Fiddle suggested as he rechecked the gear he'd left behind.

"Um, I think we need to see Sybil first," Sully reminded everyone.

"Sybil?" Marcus of Tyr asked. "Whose's she and where does she live?"

"Marcus of Tyr why don't you stay here," Darian proposed. "I don't think you will get along with her much."

The party made a quick trip to Sybil's hut. They exchanged pleasantries and items. Sully got his staff back. Sybil got her vampire and mind flayer parts. She offered to use her magic to speed the party along. But the only place she could remember outside of the Barrows was Myth Drannor. The party declined.

And away they went. They rode hard for the first couple days. On the night of the second day they bed down in the forest. Very near the Underdark passage Fiddle remembered. He warned everyone to be extra vigilant. It paid off.

On their watch Fiddle and Calrom spied a figure dressed in black crawling closer to the camp. Calrom drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Fiddle moved around to the side.

"Halt, Show yourself," Fiddle bellowed loud enough to wake the dead and hopefully the camp.

The figure tried to hide further in the brush. The camp began to stir.

"Toss your weapons forward and surrender," Fiddle tried again as he moved into position.

"You are not the ones I seek," the figure spoke a heavily accent Common. He stood. An elf. A dark elf. "You surrender."

An arrow streaked passed and struck the drow. Arendel. The brown bear charged.


----------



## diaglo

*A misunderstanding*

Calrom followed Arendel's lead. A flight of arrows sailed at the drow. The rest of the party sprang into action.

Fiddle slashed Lightning Strike across the drow's back. Alya read off a scroll and yelled in surprise. He was as bright as the Sun. He forgot he was no longer an elf.  Sully fired off a spell.

Darian tried to calm everyone and at the same time wake Marcus of Tyr. How anyone could sleep thru all of the ruckus was beyond Fiddle.

Arendel changed form. His bear grabbed the elf and tried to pull him closer. Calrom continued to fire arrows into the fray. He wasn't going to let this elf get away.

"You have made your bed now lie in it," the drow hissed as he escaped the bear.

The ground beneath everyone's feet turned to mud. Everyone tried to scramble free. Marmaduke came to Fiddle's side.

The bear moved forward again and found the drow. One moment he was an elf. And the next....he shook off the bear without any trouble. He was a Dragon. A dark scaly beast with horns and fangs.


----------



## diaglo

*A botched negotiation*

The Dragon took to the air.

"Split up before he breathes," Fiddle mounted Marmaduke and rode like the wind.

The others scattered too. Only Darian remained calm, unarmed, unarmored, and in plain sight. He continued to try and calm the situation.

Eventually Fiddle had circled around to a good striking position. He dismounted and commanded Marmaduke to follow his lead. They moved closer to the dragon. It returned to drow form with Darian's coaxing.

For some reason it wanted to find the Band of the Burning Brand. Calrom, Sully, and Arendel joined in the conversation. Fiddle silently continued his stalking. He was almost ready to strike. Fiddle remembered Himool's boasts and his conversation with Dorik the dwarf and Carl. This was a juvenile black. He wanted his hoard back. The party was in agreement to help him.

Fiddle reached his spot. Only Arendel had paid attention to the hin. A spell danced across the druid's hands.

"Here mighty wyrm take this as a token of faith that we will complete this mission for you," Fiddle stepped closer.

"Fiddle," Darian cautioned.

Fiddle dropped a ring of wasted wishes into the drow's hand. The dragon bid farewell and left.

Some time later when the party was sure they were alone again...

"I had him," Fiddle cursed. "He was mine. I would've enjoyed that so much. He was practically on his last leg anyway. Why do you think he fled so easily."

There was no reasoning with Fiddle as he fumed. Marcus of Tyr was almost in agreement.  He didn't understand how the party had agreed to aid the dragon.

Morning came and the party was off to Tilverton again.

The plan was for Marcus of Tyr and Darian to enter Cormyr and deal with clearing the party's name. Then they would send word.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Interlude -- the Quaan*

Hedrack smiled wryly as the magical contact gradually faded, then was suddenly broken.

_So Kikanuile has failed in her mission_, he thought to himself,_ such a pity.  It's getting so difficult to find reliable agenst these days.  At least she confirmed that the path to the Grail was fully open._

"Well?" came the sibilant hiss from the shadows.

"A minor setback, but the way is clear for the recovery team, who was lurking nearby.  We'll have it within days.  Those meddling fools from the church of Lathander will have to be dealt with, though.  At least they did us the favor of eliminating some of the competition in the process."

The only response from the shadows was silence.

*Five days later*

What began as a murky shimmering in the air soon coalesced into a many-armed and -legged form of featureless grey, which quickly gained detail as blotches of color oozed through the greyness.  A goblin, thin and wiry, leaped down from the back of the spider, carrying two too-large bundles under his arms.

The creature lurched forward, kneeling at the base of the throne, and thrust the blocky bundle under his right arm toward Hedrack.

"The Grail, my lord!  The humans and their pets left the way clearas they departed; it was no matter to trace Kikanuile's path and recover it."  

Hedrack nodded, taking the wrapped object.  "You have done well, and shall be rewarded, both of you. And what is that that you carry?"

"I bring an additional gift!" the goblin replied. "Your humble servant sends it with his regards!"  He thrust forward a thin bundle, longer than he was tall, wrapped in gold-trimmed white linens.

Hedrack threw his head back and cackled.  "With all their bumbling, they serve me in the end! You may go!"

The goblin nodded, quickly surrying back to the spider and remounting.  Within seconds, he had faded to greyness and was gone.

Hedrack motioned to the shadows beyond the throne.  "Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony ..."

In the shadows, white, pointed teeth grinned in a rictus of death.


----------



## diaglo

*City slicker*

The party had fun while the goody two shoes were gone.  

Finally Darian returned. He led the party to the Border tower. Here a writ was read aloud. Alya was bound and gagged.   It seemed like the only option for his safety. The party then travelled to Tilverton.

Fiddle quickly took the first opportunity to vanish. He contacted his friends at Grimwold's Revenge and exchanged pleasantries with the barkeep. Later he had a private meeting with Tristan and the Hand of Misadventure. The lady priest made Fiddle whole again.

All was good in the world. Fiddle spent the night telling all he knew of the Warrens and the Banes to the Temple Raiders. He made detailed copies of his maps. He also pressed for information about Jevvica Noir and her murder.

Fiddle had a new score to settle.

The next day the Rose Altar and the Brothers of Tyr held a ceremony to honor the party for their good deeds. Alya was a bit tipsy. He had spent many hours identifying the magic the party carried out of the Warrens.

Fiddle had another job. Sell this, sell that, trade this, trade that...all the while keeping his eyes and ears open for news.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Top Ten based on views! (#7 to be precise!) How 'bout that!


----------



## diaglo

*Spies like Us*

Fiddle returned to the party's meeting place, The Windlord's Rest. He redistributed the wealth. Arendel bid farewell. He had to return home to seek council with his order. He asked Calrom if he wanted to join. The ranger begged off. Alya was still incarcerated at the Rose Altar with Darian. Sully, Calrom, and Fiddle stopped there next. Fiddle paid them.  They exchanged plans and notes.  Darian quickly vanished and told everyone not to disturb him for the next 4 days. Alya smiled and went about his business. He had joined the choir.

Sully looked at Fiddle and Calrom, "Do you want to come with me to see Filani?"

"Yes," Fiddle agreed. "I have a score to settle."

The meeting at the Tower of Wits and Work was not pleasant initially. But eventually Sully's cool head won out. It seemed the Rose Altar had a spy by Fiddle's finally reckoning. They left for the Rose Altar again.

Darian was not happy of the news. But he did his best to discover the truth of the matter. And too he received a strange note from Marcus of Tyr. Fiddle tagged along as a bodyguard. There were too many things happening to let down their guard now.

A paladin of Tyr in Grimwold's Revenge is a strange sight. Marcus of Tyr had much news. None of it helped alleviate Fiddle's suspicions. The Sword of Lies was gone. When Darian presented the information to his high priest, a name was mentioned one too many times...Brother Heth. Fiddle had found his next victim. But not the proof.


----------



## Piratecat

I just started reading this - and I wanted to let you know how much I was enjoying it.  17 pages of goodness to go!


----------



## diaglo

Piratecat said:
			
		

> I just started reading this - and I wanted to let you know how much I was enjoying it.  17 pages of goodness to go!




thanks,

but really you should thank the DM. i'm just writing a player's journal so i can keep up with the game.

more information to follow on sunday's session.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Hey, we got PC!


----------



## biorph

Wow, the ever famous Piratecat, what an honor.


----------



## howandwhy99

"TIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"

Boy, I wish I had been around for that.

Looks like our one reader finally spoke up.


----------



## diaglo

*Friend and Enemy alike*

"What about the dragon?" Sully asked. "We had only 10 days to find the Company of the Burning Brand and direct them back to the dragon before he added us to his list of enemies. Besides, Filani tells me that I can help my Auntie now. I need to recover the blood of a True Dragon and expose it to the _faerzress_ of the Underdark for a week."

"Turns out Fit'nari is a Deep Dragon," Fiddle told the others. "His name in Common is Nightscale."

"So I say we give up Himool and his party," Calrom nodded. "Not that I know them or anything. But he is an elf."

Alya and Sully were in agreement.

"I'm not hearing this," Darian hummed and plugged his ears.

"I can't do it in good conscience," Fiddle stated.

"Well then what do you propose?" Alya was getting tired of all the talk. He wanted to get out of Tilverton and his bonds.

Fiddle explained his plan. He wanted to contact Himool and tell him of the threat. Then join together to defeat the Dragon. Claim the blood for Sully. And Fame for slaying the Dragon. Plus get back on Himool's good side. Fiddle had suspected from the last meeting that Carl knew they had stolen the sword.

With some modifications the others agreed. They too didn't feel good about killing the Band of the Burning Brand and picking over their ashes. by giving them to the Dragon.

Darian sent a magical mesage to Carl and received a reply. Fiddle's suspicions were almost confirmed. Himool was pissed. They were in Ashabenford. Too far away to get to the Dragon in time anyway.

Darian returned to crafting his new magic. Of Brother Heth there was no further word. While the rest of the party waited for Arendel's return. A day later the Druid returned. He accepted the group's decision. He also had some interesting news of his own concerning the drow and the Underdark. It seemed dark elf activity in Mistledale was picking up. The druid had several medallions that when worn by an elf transformed them into the appearance of their darker kin. He demonstrated. Calrom was not happy. Later Arendel gave one to Fiddle.

Darian received a message from Carl a few days later. They were to meet at the Border Tower. And from there who knew.


----------



## diaglo

*Enemy of my enemy is a Friend*

The morning of their departure the party gathered to break fast. Arendel and Fiddle had huge smiles on their faces. They shared a private joke.

"What," Calrom asked. "What's so funny?"

Everyone else burst into laughter. The rest of the patrons moved away from the party. Calrom was a drow. He finally took notice.

"FIddddlllee," Calrom screamed and grabbed the hin.

Someone started to head for the door to summon the watch. Alya waved his hands and sang aloud. Calrom and Fiddle calmed down. Fiddle removed the medallion and Calrom returned to normal.

"Well now I really think it's time we left Tilverton," Alya hinted.

The party made good time. By mid-afternoon they had reached the Border Tower. Carl and a new woman waved to them from nearby. The two turned and left.

“I guess we need to follow them,” Calrom said.

“It is a trap,” Fiddle noted.

A hour or so later, they reached an open clearing in the woods. Arendel hid in the tree line. Carl and the woman stood on the far side with Himool. The elf had his arms crossed.

“Hail and well me...” Fiddle started to say.

“Where is it?” Himool yelled.

“We don’t know where the threat is,” Fiddle responded. He looked around for Dorek the dwarven rogue.

“The Sword you idiot,” Himool fumed. “Where is my sword?”

“We are here on another matter,” Sully interrupted. “A Dragon. The dragon you took your latest weapon from. We came to warn you of the danger.”

Carl, Darian, Alya, Calrom, Fiddle, Sully, and Himool hashed out the problem. Sully admitted guilt in the theft. Fiddle claimed credit, though, when Himool tried to place all the blame on the gnome. The unknowns were introduced. Calrom and Brianna of Tymora. Dorek and the Elven lass appeared too. Carl had hidden them with magic. Oona still bore the scars from the Dragon’s attack. Her face was a melted mess. The parties reached a truce. They would work together to ambush the Dragon at the Moathouse north of Peldan’s Helm. Darian would send a message to the Dragon when the trap was set.


----------



## diaglo

*A trap sprung*

The trip to Peldan's Helm was fast, quiet, and very businesslike. Neither party spoke much. Both kept watches. Nothing would tangle with such a large company. Even Himool was quiet for a change. The Company of the Burning Brand would wait at the Keep for a signal from Darian or Arendel. They would then travel the four hours to the Moathouse and  help slay the Dragon.

The first part of the trap was set. The party arrived at the Moathouse. Fiddle and Calrom quickly did a search for new tracks.  A few stray animal tracks, but nothing serious. The elves hadn't been back either.

"I've sent word to the Dragon," Darian announced. "He should be here around midnight. He thinks we are here to help him polish off the Burning Brand."

"I'll send word to Himool," Arendel added.

The party staked out their defensive positions. Sully, Calrom, and Alya climbed the walls. Fiddle ducked into the shadows.  They had hours still. Fiddle waited for the Dragon to appear before he cast his spell. He wanted to be ready. Darian summoned a strange creature from a distant place. A powerfully built humanoid with the head of a dog appeared. He had a greatsword strapped across his broad back and an expression that indicated intelligence and protectiveness. They negotiated for a moment or two before Darian handed over a king's ransom in trade bars. Alya also waited before transforming into a trog.

Time passed by slowly. Fiddle sat down and drew figures in the loose soil with his dagger. He had flashbacks to the last time he had fought in this Moathouse. The Blue Dragon falling before his strike. Lightning Strike had earned its name that day.

A figure flew overhead. It could only be the Dragon. Fiddle cast his spell. He was now fleeter of foot. A minute passed. And then another. and....after 20 minutes the Dragon entered in drow form.

"So are we ready?" Nightscale asked.

"Almost," Sully replied. "We still haven't seen them yet. They should be here soon."

Fiddle watched as the drow casually strolled the grounds. He crept right past Fiddle's spot and up the stairs. He waited in the doorway to the main ruins. And then...he was in Dragon form again.

Hours rolled along. Fiddle's spell began to fail. He guessed the others too had lost most of their magic. Still no sign of the Burning Brand.

"Perhaps I should check to see if they are delayed," Arendel spoke.

"Yes, perhaps you should," the Dragon agreed too quickly. "Maybe the ranger should go with you?"

"I'm fine right here," Calrom retorted.

Arendel assumed Hawk form and was aloft and soon out of sight.

A moment later the Dragon spoke, "He was right. I grow tired. What do you have in payment for your lives?"

"He?" Darian asked.

"Himool," Fiddle answered. He approached the Dragon. "The elf sold us out. Just like you guys wanted to do to them. I have something for you Nightscale."

Fiddle tossed the Vladaam signet ring to the beast.

"A very good start," Nightscale grinned exposing all of his teeth. "And you others?"

Darian tossed trade bars slowly out in front of his position. He was trying to buy time.

Fiddle scratched his head. "Why are you trying to buy time? The Company of the Burning Brand is not going to help us. And Arendel won't be back in time." Fiddle drew his dagger and sword.


----------



## diaglo

*Fiddle Dragonslayer Skipstone*

Fiddle was already aware of the danger. He wanted to make sure the Dragon concentrated on him and him alone. The others needed him to be a true Dragonslayer now. He lunged inside the Dragon's guard. One, two, three he brought Lightning Strike and Hole Punch to bear. The others similarly reacted. Darian blasted the Dragon in the chest with a ray of burning light. His summoned bodyguard still remained nearby. The Dragon returned the favor to Fiddle. He bit, clawed, raked, and buffeted the poor hin. The Dragon shifted to the side slightly. Fiddle still stood, but his lifeblood flowed freely. Too freely. Alya began to sing words of encouragement .Calrom fired a volley of arrows. Sully planted a sphere of lightning on the Dragon's backside. 

"Watch out for his gassy breath," Alya cried out.

Fiddle moved inside the Dragon's guard again. This time he reeked havoc with Lightning Strike and Hole Punch. "Feel my wrath Dragon."

Darian ignited a burst of sound around the Dragon's head.  This time Fiddle escaped most of the beating. One claw and one wing harmed him. The hin was only just conscious. Alya assumed trog form. Another volley of arrows from Calrom struck home. Sully had no chance to move his Lightning Ball aside this time. Luckily Fiddle dodged under the sparks. 

Fiddle attacked again. "It's you or me," he screamed. "Alya can sing my ballad later." The Dragon wasn't in much better shape when Fiddle was done. Darian prepared to join the melee. The Dragon bent to bite Fiddle in half. Calrom distracted him and Fiddle moved under the beast. He leapt into the air. Lightning Strike eviscerated the wyrm.

Crassssshhhshhh. Fiddle collapsed alongside his trophy. The same spot he had slain the Blue. With the same weapon.


----------



## diaglo

*Anticipation is making me wait*

"Fiddle, get up," Alya shouted as he healed the hin. "Arendel has returned. The Burning Brand is only a few minutes behind him."

Fiddle stirred. He rolled over and hid behind the Dragon reclaiming his ring.  

The others were once again in defensive positions. It looked like they meant to do Himool and Company some harm. Fiddle wasn't sure if he felt like it. He had suffered the most in the battle with the Dragon, but he had survived. All of them had. Alya, Arendel, and Darian were just inside the first ruined tower. Calrom was on the roof off to Fiddle's right. And Sully was on the wall to his left. Fiddle watched the entrance with his bow drawn. He nocked one of the magical arrows Alya had given him.

"Invisible," Fiddle thought. "Just like last time. The two rogues will be invisible."

Sully signalled to the others. He mumbled a spell and....


----------



## diaglo

*The common threat is gone; no longer allies*

Carl appeared off to the right of Darian, Arendel in hawk form, and Alya the trog. A small bead of fire left his hand.

BooooMMMmm.

The fireball exploded in the midst of the spellcasters. Alya hummed and winked out of existence. Sully returned fire with lightning. Carl was staggered. Several brief motes also flashed just outside the wall and inside the courtyard. Arendel called on another wave of fire. The heavens opened and a torrent of flame struck poor Carl. He was dead before it registered. Darian redirected his magic outside the walls. A loud crash and then silence. Himool gained the wall. He would be on Sully in a few more moments. Fiddle and Calrom hit him with arrows.

No word or sign from Alya. Sully assumed pixie form. He moved away from the threat Himool posed. Still no rogues, nor the priestess of Tymora. Arendel directed a torrent of hail to fall on the courtyard to prevent unhindered passage into the Moathouse. It also partially struck Himool and the area just outside on the drawbridge. Darian hit Himool with another burst of sound. Himool leapt off the wall for safety. He tripped and landed in a heap. 

"Arendel, someone is climbing up the wall over here," Darian shouted.

Darian had also prepared a muddy trap earlier to help find invisible trespassers. But the area was well out of candle light. As a matter of fact the only places lit were the coin on Fiddle's belt and the lantern next to Darian. Fiddle put away his bow and drew his blades. Dorek appeared. The dwarf nicked Fiddle with his heavy axe and missed with the lighter one. A fighter after Fiddle's own heart. It would be a shame to kill him. Calrom fired at Dorek.

Alya was quiet. Sully gained altitude and riddled Himool with bolts of magic. Arendel also took to wing. Whether he cast another spell or not Fiddle couldn't tell. Darian cast a spell of his own. The elven lass appeared. She stabbed at the priest. Three small badgers came into being behind her. Dorek took another swipe at Fiddle, before turning to flee.

"Surrender," Fiddle called back. "I might be able to save your life."

Fiddle stabbed under the dwarf's guard with Lightning Strike as a parting shot.  Calrom dropped his bow and drew his rapier. He ran for Fiddle's light and landed poorly. Fiddle continued after the Dorek and buried his sword to the hilt in the dwarf's back.

"Oh, well," Fiddle helped Calrom up. As far as he was concerned it was over. He and Calrom searched the corpse.

Oona jumped off the wall and to the safety of the reeds. She swam the moat. And....somewhere along the way Darian, Sully, and Arendel finished off the Band of the Burning Brand. The priestess of Tymora had collapsed just outside the gate. She hadn't even been in one second of the fight. Alya winked into existence again, too. He was badly frozen and burned. But he was alive, just not conscious.


----------



## diaglo

*Aftermath*

The party placed the items they recovered off the dead into a pile in the middle of the courtyard. Fiddle went about recovering parts from the Dead dragon while Alya and Sully tried to figure out what if any of the items were magical or valuable. Darian and Calrom took care of the bodies. The Burning Brand had come to the fight without most of their things. No packs, no food, no animals...Arendel returned with the party's animals...no spellbook.

"They've set us up," Fiddle whispered to Calrom. "They went back to Peldan's Helm and told everyone there we stole the Sword. And we've slain them. We have the mark of highwaymen about us now. Not to mention we have their stuff. I feel dirty." Fiddle washed his hands. He was dirty from stripping the dragon of its hide.

It wasn't safe inside the Moathouse. So the party set camp in a defensible area in the woods. They let the animals of the night have what remained of the Dragon's carcass in the courtyard. Alya spent the night identifying items. He drank a lot of wine, swallowed a lot of crushed pearls and stirred a lot with his owl feather. Himool had a suit of mithril chain. It was too big for Fiddle.

"Why did you do this?" he cursed the dead elf.

In the morning, Alya had the answer to most of the magic. He relayed the information. And the party divvied up the items for easy portability.

"Where to next?" Sully asked during the morning meal. "I have my vial of True Dragon's blood. But I only have 30 days or so to get it exposed and back to my Auntie. I'm up for a trip to the Underdark. You are all welcome to come along."

"I'm there," Fiddle and Calrom said in unison.

"Me too," Arendel nodded.

"And me," Alya agreed.

"Hellloooo," Darian smirked. "Look at my forehead and armor. Priest of Lathander here. I'd look like a big old shiny beacon. I'd attract everything there. I'm for travelling to another location and selling or recrafting the items we just acquired."

"Oh, I see," Sully answered. "I follow you under the ground and into the Pit o' Hell to recover a Holy Sword and now you don't want to help with my Auntie."

The conversation got hot and furious. Everyone got in on it. Eventually, things cooled down. But no decision was made on the direction to head.

Fiddle sat widdling one of the Dragon claws to add to his necklace of trophies.


----------



## diaglo

update to follow after today's session

will they go living in a land down under?

or will they piddle around getting their magic items created?


----------



## biorph

> will they go living in a land down under?




Where clerics glow and bard's chunder?

oh no wait that was this session, while we were above ground.


----------



## diaglo

*Possible way down #1*

The morning saw the party on the road to Tilverton. Sully had not convinced Darian to join in the adventure into the Underdark. The priest of Lathander wanted to return home to Cormyr, sell the excess items, and travel another road. At least in Tilverton Sully might find another priest to join the quest. No one wanted to test Fiddle's theory about Peldan's Helm now having a price on their heads.

Besides, Fiddle thought perhaps he might be able to trick Darian. First try would be near the border. The hole into the Underdark provided by the gibberlings would be a perfect test.

The next couple days' journey was quiet. No one spoke much. The road was well worn. Many heavily ladened wagons had passed recently. Up ahead, trouble. Smoke rose into the sky a couple miles into the woods.

Arendel, Calrom, and Fiddle set off to check on the fire. Sully and Darian brought the rest of the horses and animals with them at a slower pace. Alya took to wing as an avariel. Fiddle couldn’t keep pace with the druid and the ranger once they entered the woods. He turned back and signaled to Sully and Darian.

Fiddle found the tracks of a lone elf. The elf traveled from the woods to the hole. Fiddle went directly there with Sully and Darian. They passed Arendel and Calrom arguing at the site of an ambush. No signs of further trouble nor survivors. Alya flew over to Fiddle and the others. They left the druid and ranger.

A hawk was pinned to the ground with arrows just outside the entrance to the Underdark. Fiddle crept forward to investigate. Darian kept a wide berth. Drow, perhaps. Fiddle looked further into the tunnel. Three human bodies riddled with similar arrows. Merchants. Alya peered inside too. The tunnel took a bend a few feet beyond the bodies.

Calrom and Arendel caught up with the group. They were still bickering, but at a whisper.  Arendel assumed fox form and trotted into the tunnel.


----------



## diaglo

*Some things are not as they seem*

A moment later, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. And then shouting in a foreign tongue.

“Should we go investigate?” Fiddle asked. “It can never be good when someone is shouting like that even if it is in a different language.”

“It’s elven,” Alya said as she strode past. “Could be the drow.”

Fiddle quickly ducked in behind the avariel as a shadow. The others waited outside. They rounded the bend. Arendel was in elf form again held back at sword point by a wounded sun elf. The druid tucked his drow medallion under his armor. Fiddle recognized why the elf was nervous now. The three elves chatted away. He lowered his sword. Alya attempted to heal the elf’s wounds. Nothing visibly changed.

“Hello,” Fiddle stepped into the light. “Can you speak in Common? I don’t understand a word you all are saying.”

Darian and Sully arrived. Darian joined in on the conversation. Sully and Fiddle just shrugged.

“Sully,” Alya whispered in draconic. “I don’t trust our friend. Would you be a dear and dispel the magic around here?”

Finally, Fiddle got an idea something wasn’t kosher. Alya must have explained Sully’s actions. She nodded to the gnome.

Ppooofff.

All the magic in the area was removed. Alya was a male kobold again. This did not sit well with the elf. Darian placed himself in the middle of the negotiations. He directed everyone outside and even translated a little for Fiddle and Sully to understand.

Calrom met the new elf, Grishelm of the Deepingdale Rangers, with a sneer. The two rangers kept their distance. Fiddle searched the human merchants. They were dead alright. And someone had already stripped them of their valuables.

The conversation continued outside the tunnel. Calrom translated for the non-elves. The hawk was the elf's former companion. No one seemed to care they were just outside of a drow stronghold. 

"He is not to be trusted," Alya sang.

The sun elf froze and stared at the kobold. Fiddle moved behind him. Calrom drew his sword.


----------



## diaglo

*All is revealed*

And Alya's song faded as Grishelm fled. Fiddle casually mounted Marmaduke and drew his own weapons. Alya pelted the sun elf with arrows. While Arendel placed a barrier of greenery in front of the escape route. He and the bear closed on the ranger. Sully also smacked their foe with magic. The elf slowed to a walk.

"Surrender and you may yet live," Sully added.

Darian struck the elf in the back of his head with a beam of light. His hair and skin burned. He was in a sorry state. Calrom finished his maneuver.

"I only drew my sword," he shrugged and ran to catch up.

The flora around Fiddle came to life. Marmaduke was held in place. Fiddle dismounted and ran for the edge of the activity. Alya took avariel form again and gained height. The others likewise moved to be clear of the clinging plants. The bear hugged Grishelm. The elf passed out. Arendel approached and healed his wounds.

Alya stripped him while Calrom bound him. Fiddle put away his blades and pulled out his coin sap.

Darian, Arendel, Calrom, and Alya questioned the prisoner more thoroughly and less politely than before. He sang like a canary. A member of a 4 elf cell sent to frame the drow and continue the war with the humans. He was one of the "True People", the Eldreth Veluuthra. And his cell would be meeting at the old Temple to Corellon Larethian in the Vale of Lost Voices in 6 days time. He had fought the drow recently. 

"Lets kill him," Arendel said.

"Why do you know him?" Calrom asked. "Are you afraid he may give your secret away."

"Nay," Darian interrupted. "We should take him to Cormyr since we are already headed that way. They have a Temple of Tyr. Maybe the Just Ones will get more out of him and help their neighbors."

"They have a Temple of Tyr in Ashabenford," Sully hinted. "And Filani mentioned a way into the Underdark around there."

"We could at least try the Border Tower," Darian kept on pushing. "We are much closer to Cormyr than to Ashabenford."

The party buried the dead merchants and took care of the elf. Fiddle knocked him out again with his sap. Calrom noticed there were less merchants here than tracks. The drow must have taken some prisoners. They made camp further down the road.


----------



## diaglo

*There and back again*

The trip to the Border Tower was uneventful. Fiddle made a habit of putting the elf to sleep and checking his bindings. Plus he sported a rag in his mouth to keep him even more quiet. Alya saw to his other needs; like food, water and natural body services.

“Hail on the road,” a familiar guard called to the party. “What do you carry and where are you headed?”

“Hail in the Tower,” Darian responded. “We need a word with the War wizard.”

Arendel had 2 new horses he tended from the caravan. Fiddle’s 5 horses, Marmaduke, Mulebone, the Bear, and the new mount Darian rode made for a large train of their own. Mulebone carried a good portion of the party’s spare items.

The War wizard was not very helpful. He promised to hang the fool elf as a bandit, but otherwise wished to keep Cormyr out of the Dales business. So any chance of taking the road to Tilverton or to the magical portal Fiddle wished to visit with Sully was soon squashed. Because it meant the elf was now on his way back to Ashabenford with the party. No items sold, none traded, none created, none changed. All around a very uneventful trip.

Fiddle hoped no one in Ashabenford put two and two together concerning the Band of the Burning Brand. The return trip confirmed one thing. The drow were active. The few items of use left behind on the burnt caravan were now gone. Still the party avoided Peldan’s Helm and made good time to the Mistledale capital. Darian cast a few spells on the trip to try and prolong the life of the dragon parts and blood.

The party also discussed their next course of action. They had missed the rendevous with the other cell members. And they had missed going down in the Underdark as long as the elf was still a prisoner. So they decided to get a Tyrian priest to certify the truth about the elf and hand him over to the authorities.


----------



## diaglo

*The road still traveled*

The party encountered a patrol of Riders just outside of Ashabenford. They exchanged pleasantries and agreed to escort them into town. First stop the White Hart Inn and then the Temple of Tyr and then who knew. The party unloaded their items and gear at the Inn. The bid the Riders well and promised them a round of drinks later. Then they set off for Harask Malorn's house. Malorn took them to the council chamber for secrecy at Fiddle's request. He offered the party a contract to escort Dumic the Red to Daggerdale for the Midsummer's Dales council. It seemed the Burning Brand could not fulfill the contract. It was only right the Stormslayers should act on their friend Himool's behalf. After agreeing to the contract Fiddle asked dumped Grishelm at Malorn's feet. He then told the High Councilor all they knew of the elven plot. He was not happy. Many of the humans would use this as an excuse to exterminate all elves in the area. And it meant keeping the elf hidden from Dumic. Dumic would be one of the most outspoken of the humans.  They would leave in the morning.

Alya took off for Norister the Mage's shop. He was interested in trading. While Fiddle, Sully, and Arendel stayed to listen to a bard sing, Jhaer Brightsong at the White Hart. Her music was quite good. Darian and  Calrom took the prisoner to the Temple of Tyr. They returned shortly afterwards. The priest would be prepared to see them and the prisoner in the morning. He kept the news of the prisoner quiet in the meantime.

Fiddle tried hard to get Jhaer to notice him. He tried all of the secret signals he could remember Jevvica using. None worked. Finally Arendel led the young elven lass away.

"Not all bards are Harpers, Fiddle," Sully reminded him.

"Don't wait up for me," Arendel winked.

The next morning the party gathered outside of the Councilor's house. Alya and the elf carefully bundled and hidden on the back of Mulebone. Jhaer was travelling with them. She also had business to discuss in Daggerdale. Dumic arrived later. He was a very rotund man, balding on top with a bright red face. He rode a draft horse and pulled a heavily laden donkey behind. The ass struggled with a large wine cask. Fiddle got the impression it would not be full long.

"So you are my escort," Dumic bellowed. "And what makes you so special?"

Fiddle began to sing his tale of slaying the Dragon, Nightscale. Dumic laughed and hoisted the hin up in front of him.

"You are a very funny creature," Dumic chortled all morning long. "Lets be off. Do we have a guide?"

"That would be me," Calrom set the pace.


----------



## diaglo

*A plan falls into place...*

The first day's journey was cut short as the party neared Elven's Crossing. Dumic wanted to restock and rest. Elven Crossing had maybe 10 or so buildings in the heart of the town. The Inn was the largest. The Lady of the Inn made a big show of caring for Dumic the Red. Jhaer Brightsong left early. Arendel and Calrom left right after. Fiddle, Sully, and Alya in altered form entertained the large man and the small community. Darian and the animals kept watch for trouble. Alya didn't stay long. Her disguise magic was only good for an hour or so. Fiddle convinced several of the locals to help him carry Dumic to bed later. He paid them with Dumic's purse. 

Calrom chose the north road along the Ashaba River. The next few days were harder. No beasts nor bandits bothered the party, but it always seemed like something was just out of sight. They placed extra emphasis on keeping the elf hidden from Dumic. Jhaer on the other hand knew. She kept the secret. She cautioned against letting more humans know.

Fiddle's birthday came and went. Much like all of his others were. He spent it on the road. He was a traveling hin afterall. They made good time. And Fiddle, Arendel, and Calrom provided from the wilds. While Sully cooked with his usual flair. Sully was not his normal self. He was worried about the vial of Dragon's blood.

The party reached Shadowdale. The Old Skull Inn and the Twisted Tower of Lord Mourgrym beckoned. Fiddle knew he could reach the Underdark now. He just needed to get inside the Old Skull and back to the Portal nexus. From there door number 12 led to the drow hallway the party had visited before. But how to get there without alerting Dumic or Jhaer or the residents.

Darian took the prisoner in secret to the Temple of Lathander. And Jhaer disappeared yet again. Arendel and Calrom again followed her. That left Alya in altered form, Sully, and Fiddle to handle Dumic. The Old Skull was hopping. Alya disappeared early again.

"I visited the portal," Alya told Sully and Fiddle in private later.

"Ha, I knew I wasn't the only one thinking of a way," Fiddle leapt with joy.

"What portal?" Sully asked.

"The one that will lead us to the Underdark," Fiddle replied. "Behind door #12 I saw a drow and a..."

"The Underdark," Sully smiled. "I'm in. But what do we do?"

"If I can get ahold of Arendel," Alya grinned. "I have a plan."

The plan was simple. Sully and Arendel would enter invisibly into the portal nexus. And from there go thru door #12. Sully would check for the presence of the Underdark magic. If lucky, Arendel would shape the wall or a column of stone and insert the vial. A week later the party would return and collect the vial.


----------



## diaglo

*Onward and upward*

But the plan was too simple. The Gods of Confusion and Extra Activity bid against the party. Dumic the Red tried to get the party on the road early. However, Fiddle had kept watch on the comings and goings of the Shadowdale forces. There was to be trouble on the road, so he advised Dumic to wait until they knew more. This worked in the party's favor.

The next kink  came with the a meeting of Lord Mourgrym. He and his retinue offered to travel with the party to help keep Dumic safe. The number of eyes and ears and bodies was now rather large. But at least Lord Mourgrym and Dumic were old friends. Although, they did start talking politics from the hellos. Another partial problem now avoided.

This meant Sully, Alya, Fiddle and Arendel had little time in which to enact their plan. They hurried to the Old Skull. Fiddle taught Sully and Arendel the needed phrases to use the portals. Alya cast her spells and waited with Fiddle while Sully and Arendel hurried down below the Inn. A few minutes later they were back. They still had the vial. Not good.

Last night, the Purple Dragons of Cormyr hadn't been on guard. Whether Alya's opening the portal or whether they only took duty in the light of day, it didn't matter. The way into the nexus was blocked to the party. Several dozen armed and prepared Purple Dragons plus at least one War Wizard kept vigil. They now knew the portal to the Old Skull was active. They hadn't seen Sully nor Arendel, but they did see the door open and close and probably heard voices.

So it was onto the Council Meeting in Daggerdale. Alya and the prisoner hidden as well as they could be. Fiddle had run out of options to get the party to the Underdark. Rumors in Shadowdale did provide several more clues as did talking with the guards on the road. 

Calrom also learned of the truth behind the mysterious Elminster of Shadowdale. A charlatan would steal the guise of the great wizard and try to make money or fame for himself by posing as the long dead mage. The folk of Shadowdale had a good laugh about it.

They made Daggerdale two days ahead of the Midsummer. There they bid farewell to Lord Mourgrym's group to find their own camp. The place was crowded and Banners and men of all the Dales were in attendance. Even Cormyr, Sembia, and a few other neighboring countries had sent representatives. Darian, Arendel, and Alya went to look for the Elven Court with Jhaer Brightsong as their guide. Sully, Fiddle, and Calrom were left to help Dumic the Red. Mistledale's camp was empty of people. Only the tents, banner, and now the party marked its occupancy.


----------



## diaglo

*One last hurrah*

The end was near. Two days flew past and the council had their meeting. A split vote, 4 to prevent the Zhents from further incursions, 4 to deal with the drow threat, and 3 undecided. Randal Morn of Daggerdale, a farmer representative from Featherdale, and Dumic the Red held out.

Randal Morn also hired the party to investigate more closely the raids in Daggerdale by the drow. They were even more chaotic then usual.

The Stormslayers accepted the contract, some helpful dungeoneering gear, and a commission. Find out all they could about the raids and report their findings to Randal Morn and eliminate the threat if possible.

Randal Morn's scouts showed the party the location of the raids and the tracks back to the family crypt of a wealthy Daggerdale family.

Fiddle checked the doors. Wealth meant they could afford to buy expensive traps and wards. Plus with drow involved who knew what added secrets they would find.

No traps. and the lock was simple enough. But someone had chained the doors shut on the inside. Fiddle threw up his hands.

Alya, Sully, and Darian winked out of sight.

Fiddle heard voices on the other side of the door.


----------



## diaglo

Calrom hitched up Mulebone and the party helped attempt to open the doors. The noise it generated didn't seem to matter. Still it didn't budge.

So Arendel assumed Ape form. The druid easily muscles the doors aside. The chain snapped and Alya, Sully and Darian were revealed on the other side. Five drow bodies were also there not of the party's doing.

Fiddle checked them over. Handcrossbow bolts riddled the bodies. They wore the dress and costume of the spiderkissers. But who killed them? And why? By the looks it was a doublecross. Some other drow or one vying for more power. They hadn't even stripped the bodies.

Alya wandered ahead. He at least could see without giving off a light. The others wandered ahead to catch up. He stood outside an undisturbed door on the side. Fiddle looked for traps. None. 

"I'm not a grave robber," Fiddle advised against opening it. "And unless we can prove the drow came and went this way I don't see the need to become one."

The others agreed. The passage continued passed the door anyway.


----------



## diaglo

and the party continued further into the opening to the Underdark...never to be heard from again.

or so it seemed.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Bump on behalf of the chat and new readers ...


----------



## LordVyreth

Err, what happened to the group, exactly?  What broke the campaign up?


----------



## JoeBlank

Thanks for asking, LordVyreth. The DM, known as Olgar Shiverstone around here, finished grad school and the Army decided they wanted him to earn his keep again. He ended up in Columbus, GA., which is a few hours from the rest of us and just too much of a haul for a regular game.

Hopefully we can get him to make guest appearances in the future, either as a player or a DM. The rest of the group is still together, gaming with a new DM in a new campaign. In debating our options, having someone take over the existing campaign we frequently mentioned. Olgar was willing to turn over a mountain of material to the new DM, but we all decided he was just too hard and act to follow.


----------



## LordVyreth

Ah.  What about the characters?  Do any of them still make guest appearances?  Also, if the campaign is basically over, can the various secrets get made public?  Like what the deal with the Veridian/Alya family was?


----------



## diaglo

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Ah.  What about the characters?  Do any of them still make guest appearances?  Also, if the campaign is basically over, can the various secrets get made public?  Like what the deal with the Veridian/Alya family was?





well, i don't have the DM's notes...nor do i know the whole truth. but i do know Veridian lives.

the mask was used to true resurrect him back in Cormyr.


----------



## LordVyreth

Interesting.  I had one more question, but I'm not sure if it's too personal or not.  There seemed to be some arguments between Veridian/Alya's player and Bernadette/Richter's.  Plus, there was a lot of mistrust when Veridian first was introduced, which seemed to be different from the more traditional Gamers' "You look trustworthy.  Join us on our quest!" method of player introduction seen up to this point and in pretty much every other group I've seen.  Was there any player problems' there, or was it just well roleplayed characters?  And was Veridian/Alya really hiding something that explained the mistrust?


----------



## JoeBlank

As a late-comer to the group (I played Sully), I feel pretty safe in saying that there was little or no actual animosity between the players, just some good roleplaying. 

Maybe we can get responses from the players themselves. Bernadette and Richter were played by Angelsboi, who rarely posts here any more. He is not longer active in the current incarnation of the group.

Veridian and Alya were played by biorph, and he remains a part of the current group.


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, one more question, though only the DM or someone in touch with him might still be able to answer it.  Baltor, Bernadette, and the rest of group 1 died very ambiguous deaths.  Since group 2 was about ready to enter the underdark, were there plans to bring back some of the original group as rescued slaves, escaped criminals, or whatnot?  Either as NPCs or potential replacements to the current cast?


----------



## diaglo

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Interesting.  I had one more question, but I'm not sure if it's too personal or not.  There seemed to be some arguments between Veridian/Alya's player and Bernadette/Richter's.  Plus, there was a lot of mistrust when Veridian first was introduced, which seemed to be different from the more traditional Gamers' "You look trustworthy.  Join us on our quest!" method of player introduction seen up to this point and in pretty much every other group I've seen.  Was there any player problems' there, or was it just well roleplayed characters?  And was Veridian/Alya really hiding something that explained the mistrust?




it was just very well roleplayed. tho, at times too much so. we had a yahoo group set up for the campaign. and some times Angelsboi and biorph would continue the banter on the site. even tho, the site was for the OoC stuff, the play on words sometimes got really good. and then some one else in the group would have to say....guys...this is OoC.....  

biorph character was pure chaotic in nature and had his own hidden agenda...actually most of the characters had their own motivations. that is what made the tough decisions....well tough. you can ask JoeBlank about that...esp at the end of the campaign. 

and much of the mistrust of Veridian you read in this Story Hour...well comes from my character, Bartol. it wasn't actually spoken aloud to Veridian. with an 8 Cha it is hard to play a talkative barbarian.    i used Bernedette and the others to do my talking. and would often drop hints or clues with body language or as an aside when other action didn't involve us.

we roleplayed well. even when the DM was concentrating on others, we kept the action moving IC with the others.


----------



## diaglo

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, one more question, though only the DM or someone in touch with him might still be able to answer it.  Baltor, Bernadette, and the rest of group 1 died very ambiguous deaths.  Since group 2 was about ready to enter the underdark, were there plans to bring back some of the original group as rescued slaves, escaped criminals, or whatnot?  Either as NPCs or potential replacements to the current cast?





Only Olgar would be able to answer this. but truthfully, i wouldn't doubt it.

i mean Olgar did slip a few names in from other nonactive PCs. we had a few players leave for new jobs, new opportunities, and new schedules...so there were a couple of PCs still around. they resurfaced. as did a few of the NPCs the first group met.

so i always thought Olgar might....esp...since we were headed into the City of the Spider Queen next...have a couple of the old PCs resurface as NPCs.

their items did.


----------



## biorph

Although I believe at one point she was described as "Spider Chow".  It's certainly possible they're still alive but if they are it's doubtful that they'd be very happy after several months of torture at the hands of the drow.


----------



## biorph

Ahh yes whatever DID happen to Veridian, Alya, and the mask of Races.  And what WAS the deal with their family.  

Well when Veridian died, his soul belinged to the Spider Queen.  She tortured him for a couple of lifetimes outside of time and then traded him over to the Queen of the Unseelie court to train her hunting parties on.  Veridian was actually True Ressed by Alya who, growing tired of Richter's promises to pay her back, decided to take the matter up with the church of Kelamvor directly. It was a sweet sweet irony to her to use the money from someone who worships a god that doesn't believe in bringing back the dead, to pay for her brother's ressurrection, especially when it was one of the two people who denied her all of her brother's possessions in the first place.  Especially when Veridian Died trying to save Richter's life.  It also didn't help that Richter was nobility and Veridian and Alya were street urchins who had to grow up begging at the feet of people like him.  So when her brother came back, Veridian feared the Unseelie Court would send people after him, so Alya gave Veridian the mask to hide himself, since she had magic that could do the same.

As for Veridian And Bernadette, after Veridian was cursed with the Fang Scarab, his first action was to seek help from the temple of Corellian, who, when they saw what he was, ran him out of town, and forced Alya to disown him on pain of death.  When the first person he meets is a human wannabe cleric of the god who's church shunned him, he didn't exactly go out of his way to endear himself to her.  The only person he trusted in the party was Timmay, but after he died, and everyone had no problem treating him so roughly, he had no problem leaving them all to the spiders when the time came.


----------



## diaglo

The adventure ends....or just



THE END


----------



## howandwhy99

To be continued...


----------



## howandwhy99

<Once we smuggle Olgar back up to Atlanta >


----------



## diaglo

Update to follow May 30th session.

Olgar is back in town then for a jaunt underground.


----------



## the Jester

Hurray!!!


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, one more question, though only the DM or someone in touch with him might still be able to answer it.  Baltor, Bernadette, and the rest of group 1 died very ambiguous deaths.  Since group 2 was about ready to enter the underdark, were there plans to bring back some of the original group as rescued slaves, escaped criminals, or whatnot?  Either as NPCs or potential replacements to the current cast?




Evil DM laugh ...

_This weekend's game may hold clues to those mysteries!_


----------



## howandwhy99

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> Evil DM laugh ...



And believe me you don't want to hear this laugh IRL.  The memories still send shivers down my spine.


----------



## diaglo

*Taking stock of the situation*

Fiddle silently went thru an inventory in his mind:

1)	Rope…we will need lots of rope. Luckily Calrom has 200’ of silk rope in his bag. And there is a smattering of other gear among the others gear.

2)	Light sources…Darian of course…and my trusty coin and a few odd candles…our light will attract attention. Best to keep it low or rely on Alya to scout.

3)	Provisions…we have 1 week’s worth and Darian. Maybe Calrom, Arendel, and I can find something edible that Sully can make palatable.

4)	Hire a guide...gotta find a friend.

He also refocused on what was important. Why are we here? Randal Morn has paid us to scout out the drow threat. And Sully needs to get his potion exposed to the Underdark magic within a small amount of time. So far the five dead drow bodies seem to confirm the dark elves presence. It doesn’t, however, mean they are a threat.

Alya had vanished from sight and sound. He scouted ahead and came back again. Fiddle checked the next doorway. Drow tracks. Coming from or going into the room, Fiddle couldn’t determine. The seal around the crypt door was broken. Fiddle searched for hidden traps. Things the dark elves may have left behind. None. He signalled for the others.


----------



## the Jester

Hurray!!!!

Can't wait to see how it went!


----------



## diaglo

Calrom approached. The others followed.

"No traps," Fiddle announced. "But I can't tell if the drow came from or went to this room. I think it warrants further investigation. The seal on the door is broken. And the way is unlocked."

Alya shrugged. "If none of you are willing or able I'll go."

"That's what we were hoping," Calrom hinted. "It isn't that we are unwilling, we just can't be as sneaky without showing off our light."

Fiddle stepped away from the doorway. Alya disappeared. The door moved.

A bright flash of light and...

RRROOAAAaaaaarrrrrr

"Eeeek," Alya squealed. "Two blue glowing Dire Lions. It's a trap."

One had pawed near the bard's voice. No sign if it did anything.

Sully reacted quickly. He mumbled and waved his hands in the air. 

_Allontani_

Poooffff.

The threat was gone and Alya was visible.

"Oops," Sully flinched. "Sorry about that. Luckily it worked on the Lions too."


----------



## diaglo

*Tomb it may concern*

“Fiddle there is some magic in the coffin over there,” Alya pointed out. “I don’t sense anything else in here.”

Fiddle scrambled cautiously into the room. He poked the ground ahead of him with his sword. He also scanned the walls, ceiling, and other coffins for any signs of danger. All was quiet. Well almost. The other party members were out in the hall having a loud conversation.

The seal on the coffin was still intact. No traps or signs of secret entry.

“I’m not touching it,” Fiddle said aloud. “I’m not a grave robber. I’m an artiste.”

“It seems like such a waste,” Alya tried and failed to get someone besides himself to open the coffin. “There could be some items of use in there. They could be used to further the greater good in the world. They could…”

“I don’t think anyone is listening,” Darian smirked. “Lathander’s teachings say it is best to let the dead rest in peace.”

Fiddle left the room and started to scout ahead. A found another door. This one still had the seal intact. He did a cursory look, but bypassed it. A set of stairs descended into the dark. The walls were more coarse. The worked stone ended at the bottom. Fiddle searched for signs of the dark elves. Both their tracks and their nasty traps. Twenty or so sets of booted feet had passed this way. At the bottom of the stairs were piles of bones. They were covered in a layer of growth. Fiddle wanted a closer look at the bones. He poked them with his sword.

“ACCCccchhhHhhoooo,” Fiddle sneezed. A cloud of yellowish dust hovered in the air.


----------



## diaglo

*Umber Hulking Statuary*

A dark opening was off to the right. The walls held more piles of bones. A catacomb.

“Best not disturb the bones too much,” Calrom added. “In case there is more yellow mold.”

Fiddle blushed.

Alya vanished and the area around went deadly quiet. Sound returned again. Fiddle guessed Alya must of gone to scout ahead. A minute passed. Fiddle pulled out one of his magical candles. He tossed it as far as he could into the dark passage. It lit up a small chamber and maybe another passage just beyond the light.

The area went quiet again. Alya must have returned. He dismissed his magic.

“There is a figure in the next chamber,” Alya reported. “A gaunt alien creature with an elongated oval head, bulbous eyes, and insect mandibles.”

“That sounds like the likeness of Jergal,” Darian surmised. “The guardian of tombs. It is probably a construct.”

Fiddle pulled Hole Punch out of his bandoleer. He approached Jergal. When he was in close enough range to see the figure he launched his dagger. Clang. A solid toss. But it did little other than bounce off. Fiddle had Lightning Strike ready as he recovered his dagger and candle. Nothing. He put away the weapons and examined the statue.

Marble. Probably worth a pretty copper too. It was too heavy to move. Too large to break. And defied all attempts to open. It was solid. Fiddle climbed on top of the head.

“I’m the King of the Castle,” Fiddle yelled back to the party. “And you are the dirty rascals.”

The rest of the group came into the chamber. There was indeed another passage beyond the statue.

"Come down from there, Fiddle," Darian shouted at the hin.

Fiddle slipped and fell on his rump.


----------



## diaglo

*Hidden paths in the mind*

“Fiddle and I should scout ahead,” Calrom directed. “We will follow the tracks and see if there are more signs of the devil elves.”

“All elves are devils to you,” Arendel laughed.

Calrom just smiled. He wasn’t laughing.

“I’ll go with you,” Alya added.

Fiddle told Marmaduke to stay near the statue and guard. He left a candle in the chamber for light. Sully, Darian, Arendel, and the animals waited.


The scouts hadn’t gone very far when Calrom stopped. He pointed at the lefthand wall. “This doesn’t look right.”

Fiddle put his hand thru the wall. “You’re right. It is an illusion.”

Alya did likewise. Calrom still couldn’t get passed the image. He tried several times but must’ve had the wall imprinted in his mind. He called for the others.

Sully, Arendel, Darian, Redd, and the Bear rounded the corner.

“I’m guessing this is a guard outpost,” Fiddle surmised. “If there are any drow still here it would be a bad thing to leave them behind us.” Fiddle strolled thru the wall.


----------



## diaglo

Fiddle tossed another candle ahead. A slightly larger chamber but still not too big. Rough carved walls and no signs of trouble. Fiddle found the drow tracks. 

“Come out and we won’t harm you,” Fiddle commanded.

Darian and Alya entered the chamber. 

 “I hear a young woman sobbing at the back,” Darian said.

Fiddle moved in the direction Darian indicated. Alya quickly caught up. Another illusionary wall. This one too Fiddle and Alya bypassed easily. Another chamber. This one occupied. A drow woman with a cloak drawn about her face. She sobbed. Fiddle prepared for trouble. Alya sang.

Fiddle ran for the exit. Too late. A web covered the illusionary wall. A large spidery creature occupied the ceiling. An aranea. Facts flashed thru Fiddle’s brain. In its natural form, an aranea resembles a big spider, with a humpbacked body a little bigger than a human torso. It has fanged mandibles like a normal spider. Two small arms, each about 2 feet long, lie below the mandibles. Each arm has a hand with four many-jointed fingers and a double-jointed thumb. An aranea weighs about 150 pounds. The hump on its back houses its brain.

“It’s an ambush,” Fiddle screamed. He attacked the web with Lightning Strike. He was quickly entangled.

Fiddle could see the other party members on the opposite side of the illusionary wall. He hoped they could see him. He knew they heard him. Sully mumbled and waved.

_Allontani_

Nothing happened.

Darian stood looking at Fiddle. “This is gonna hurt,” the Lathanderite said. A flame appeared in his hand and the web burned.

Alya cried out in Elven, “La mort rapide à ceux qui m'ont fait du tort." He fired his bow into the aranea.

Calrom lowered his shoulder and charged over Fiddle bow ablazing. He fired two arrows into the drow woman.

The drow woman changed form. She too was an aranea. She advanced on the ranger.

Arendel and the bear moved into position near the illusionary wall.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

DM's comment on the upcoming battle:

_Curse my generosity with hero points!  Ah, but at least they are out of them now!_


----------



## the Jester

Olgar, you're a dm after my own heart. 

(At least for cursing your generosity- I'd've never given 'em hero points to begin with!    )


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Update?


----------



## JoeBlank

diaglo, our scribe, has been on vacation in Washington (the state). In fact, he mentioned that he might be launching an assualt on WotC's offices, or at least taking some hostages until they agree to support OD&D again.


----------



## diaglo

*Death keeps a tally*

Scorched, reinforced with allies, and free of the web Fiddle threw Hole Punch at the aranea on the ceiling. The dagger left a long gouge in the spider creature. Fiddle smiled and prepared for the next web. Sully moved into the room. Several bolts of magic left his outstretched hand and streaked into the opposition. Darian too strode thru the illusionary wall and fired a beam of light into the face of the former drow woman. She recoiled. Unfortunately, now Darian, Calrom, Alya, Sully, and Fiddle were in close proximity.

Alya completed his oath and slew the aranea on the ceiling with 2 well placed shots. No web from that foe. The former drow woman, now aranea fled to the back of the chamber and vanished. Another illusionary wall? The party didn't observe any form of spellcasting.

Calrom gave chase.

THUMMMMPP, CLANNNNGGggG

A throaty gasp escaped the ranger's lungs from the far wall.

Arendel tried as best he could to convince the bear to join the others.


----------



## diaglo

*Battle Royale*

Fiddle ran to the far wall. It was another illusion. Calrom faced off against two drow males. Blood flowed freely from several wounds on the ranger's sides. He'd charged into an ambush. One drow was in front of the wall now staring down at Fiddle. The other blocked Calrom's progress further into the chamber. At least two more elf size forms were at the edge of Fiddle's light. Of the aranea there was no sign. Alya stepped up to Fiddle's right. Darian summoned a band of blue fire around himself and moved ahead of the two smaller party members and squared off with the drow. Sully moved in behind Alya and Fiddle. He mumbled a phrase and touched Alya's shoulder.

_Sparisca_

The party was now invisible. So too was the first drow guard. The far drow guard added insult to injury to Calrom. Like a love struck Romeo, he was in dire straits. These were his sworn enemies. He wasn't backing down. The other guard attacked Darian.

There was a call of magic from inside the new chamber. And another male figure moved into view.

_Grêle_

Large balls of ice fell on the party and the two drow guards. Calrom went down. Fiddle, Darian, Sully, and Alya also felt the pounding. Arendel was just out of range of the ice. He touched the bear. It grew. It now almost completely occupied the previous chamber.


Fiddle attacked in full on the drow warrior. The warrior collapsed. Fiddle was now visible. Alya began to sing words of courage. Darian cast a spell. It had no effect on the drow wizard. He was visible. Sully detonated a ball of lightning in the chamber. He was now visible.

_Lampo_

The remaining guard moved into a blocking formation at the entrance. He was near Darian and Fiddle. He attacked Fiddle and scored a slash with his blade on the hin's arm. The drow wizard answered with a bolt of lightning of his own.

_Foudre_

Sully went down.


----------



## the Jester

Lookin' good for Olgar!

Uh, I mean, oh no!!


----------



## diaglo

Arendel and the bear moved closer. They would be in the thick of battle soon. Calrom his chest still rose and fell. He was alive. But he bled. Lucky for him the Lightning strikes were not in line with his body.

Fiddle attacked the last guard with a fury. The drow collapsed in a heap. Alya sang a soothing tune. He touched Sully. The gnome was awake with a start.  Darian charged the drow wizard. He swung his mace. The wizard's flesh was tough. The mace rang out like it struck stone. The light of Darian's forehead lit the room. A priestess, the wizard, and the aranea were inside. Sully tried to help Darian. He tossed a handful of magical bolts at the wizard. Some hit, some fizzled out.

The drow focused on Darian. The priestess levelled a wand. A stream of darkness struck the Lathanderite. She cackled.

"Oh no you didn't," Darian cried out in anger.

The aranea shot a web around Darian. The band around the priest melted the webbing away. The wizard stepped out of Darian's reach and levelled another lightning strike.

_Foudre_

Fiddle jumped clear. Alya collapsed.

Arendel and the Bear entered the battle chamber. The Bear occupied a lot of room. He covered Calrom in a protective stance. The druid reached out to the forces of nature. A tower of flame engulfed the priestess. The combination of wounds from Sully's lightning ball and the flame tower charred the flesh from the drowess. She was ash before the spell completed.

The Bear had even better luck. He reached out and grabbed the wizard. Again the flesh of the wizard withstood some of the blow. But the Enlarged, enraged, bear would not be deter. He crushed the life from the wizard.

Fiddle dropped Hole Punch and pulled a potion from his ready belt. He poured the contents down Alya's throat. The bleeding stopped and the bard regained consciousness. Alya sang again. Darian used a wand on himself. Sully spied several vials on the hips of the dead guards. He retrieved them and began a quick analysis.

In a last ditch effort to escape, the aranea attacked the Bear. It was the last thing the spider creature ever did. The Bear splatted the bug on the ceiling. Arendel healed Sully.

Fiddle scurried under the Bear to Calrom's aid. He had plenty of head clearance. Was the ranger alive or dead? Fiddle didn't waste time to check. He poured another potion into the ranger's mouth.


----------



## diaglo

Sully's hunch paid off. The first vial was a healing potion. He quickly drank it. No telling what trouble would come at them next and when. Calrom stirred in Fiddle's arms.

"Are you okay?" Fiddle asked the obvious.

"Perhaps," Arendel leaned in close. "You could use some Elven healing? Eh, Calrom."

"Not from the likes of you," Calrom was awake. "You and them," he indicated the dead drow, "are too closely related. Besides I can take care of myself." Calrom pulled a wand out of his gear.

"I could, Arendel," Fiddle broke up the squabble. Fiddle's bumps and bruises tho not life threatening like Calrom, Sully, Alya, or even Darian's still made him less than capable if trouble arose.

"Okay Fiddle," Arendel smiled. "At least you are man enough to admit when you need help." He healed the hin some. Fiddle downed his last potion.

Alya and Darian also used what spells and resources they had left. The group searched the remains of the battle, the three chambers, and the bodies. Fiddle took some trophies as evidence...a few scalps, ears, fuzzy mandibles...

They recovered an interesting assortment of items. Among them was a clasp with a Drow house insignia. Alya translated... House Morcane. 

"I think we should return to Randal Morn with the evidence we found," Fiddle remarked. "We are in no condition to penetrate further into the Underdark."

Everyone agreed.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Brown Bear animal companion + Animal Growth + Bull's Strength = squished bad guys


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Bump in memory of Angelsboi.  He played Bernadette and Sir Richter Belmont in the first half of this story hour.


----------



## diaglo

*Out of the Frying Pan*

Darian, Arendel, Calrom, and Alya used what magic they had to heal the party. Still a few scrapes and bruises were evident as the party headed back to Dagger Falls. They hadn't traveled far when Fiddle noticed something unusual. The area around Dagger Falls was lit up brighter than it should be. The party picked up the pace. They had a good hour's ride to reach the town. Alya hid amongst the supplies.

The closer they got the more evident the trouble presented itself.  It was the camp on the far side of the town. Scardale if Fiddle remembered correctly. The representatives closest to the Mistledale and Shawdowdale contingent of the meeting.

“Halt, who goes there?” a sentry screamed at the party as they approached.

“We have urgent business with Randal Morn,” Fiddle bellowed a response. “He is expecting us.”

Fiddle waved the scalps and string of ears at the guard when he was closer. Darian held forth the male wizard’s head. Several more armed guardsmen appeared and began to surround the party.

“There is trouble in the camp,” the sentry replied. “A band of Ogres attack the Scardale camp. The representative was unharmed but the camp was sacked. We aren’t sure if more hostiles will arrive. There is a bucket brigade handling the fire.”

Sully protected the supplies from too much scrutiny.  No point in the guards discovering Alya. He urged his mount and the supplies towards the bucket brigade. Darian went with him. They stopped by the Mistledale camp first. Charles the halfling valet was glad to see them. But he warned them against disturbing Dumic the Red.

Calrom, Fiddle, and Arendel set off to see what tracks they could discover. And if they could find out who was behind the assault. No rest for the weary. A quick search proved too easy. It was Ogres alright. And they had been quick about their business. The tracks lead into the woods at the edge of Dagger Falls.

The rangers, bear, and druid gave chase for over an hour before they lost the tracks.

“I’ll meet you back at camp,” Arendel stated. “I’m going to see what I can find from the air.” Arendel assumed bat form and was gone in a flash.

Calrom and Fiddle returned to the Mistledale camp to rest.

Randal Morn was waiting for them.


----------



## diaglo

*Bring your bread crumbs for the woods*

"Darian tells me you met with the drow," Randal Morn began. “What do you make of it? Are they a threat?”

“It was hard to say,” Calrom told the tale. “It may have just been an outpost. The devil elves were there alright, though. And they were in strength. They almost killed us.”

“Aye,” Fiddle added as he pulled out his trophies. “We even have a drow House insignia.” Fiddle handed it to Randal Morn.

The man scowled. “This is not good. I need to know more. With the recent attack this evening and with another vote coming soon. I don’t know if I can convince the council of the threat. The Ogres were not drow. And many believe they are in league with the Zhents.”

“Sounds more like the Moandites, if you ask me,” Alya chimed in. “We’ve had dealings with them. Their yet another small faction looking for allies. The Zhents or the drow would suit their purpose just fine.”

“I need to find out about this raid,” Randal Morn said.

“Already on it,” Fiddle interrupted. “Our druid friend has gone to see if he can spy their camp. He should be back soon. And after we’ve rested some we will see what answers we may find.”

Randal Morn bid the party farewell and left deep in thought. Darian and Sully were already fast asleep. Calrom and Fiddle traded watches while Alya bent her will and pearls to another task.

Arendel arrived an hour before the dawn. He’d found the Ogre camp. It was a couple hours away by foot or mount. He was asleep in a flash.


----------



## diaglo

*Please keep the P out of the Ool.*

The party took off like a shot in the morning. Mulebone and Marmaduke stayed in camp. Darian had recovered his strength and his spells. So had most of the party. Alya and Arendel though were still partially fatigued. They reached the Ogre camp with little trouble. It was abandoned. Perhaps two hours start.

Calrom and Fiddle soon found the trail. Up, back, around, thru, the Ogres gave a merry chase. The tracks weren't all Ogre markings. A smallish being, perhaps a hin, a couple lighter feet...elves, and a human or similar being traveled with the Ogres. The tracks circled Dagger Falls and led to the Falls themselves.

A cave in the side of the hill was the end of the trail. The Ogre had entered here and ... who knew what next. Alya sang a tune and vanished from sight and sound. A couple minutes later he startled Calrom.

"A pool of water," Alya remarked. "That's all there is in the cave."

Fiddle went ahead. The tracks led to the pool. It looked just like the Ogre had taken a dip and not resurfaced. Fiddle tossed his glowing candle into the pool. It floated to the back and bobbed up and down.

"Yep," Fiddle smiled. "Looks like there is a way ahead. But who wants to find it?"

Sully and Arendel assumed different forms. Sully became a nixie. And Arendel a very large trout. They plunged ahead. Sully tossed Fiddle the candle when he reached the back of the cave. Time dragged.

"Do you think they are okay?" Calrom asked worriedly. "They've been gone a long time."

Just then Nixie Sully resurfaced.

"There is a way," he said. "But it is treacherous. And the current is strong. We almost lost Arendel to the Falls."

"Last one in cook's dinner," Fiddle yelled. 

Fiddle, Alya, and Calrom dove into the water. The Bear also had fun in the water. Darian sank like a stone.  The current carried Fiddle and Calrom along a tunnel for several moments. An then an area above the water hinted at air. Fiddle surfaced. It was on the edge of a cavern. Fiddle swam to the shore. Sully and Arendel were already on the edge. The hin threw his rope and grapnel into the water to fish for Calrom. He caught Alya instead. And then...after a pause Calrom came ashore. The Bear too waded clear. He shook his coat free of water. Still no sign of Darian.

"I think I've got a bite," Fiddle exclaimed with glee. Something big tried to drag the hin back into the water. 
Calrom, Arendel, Sully, and Alya grabbed hold. The party heaved. Darian came up sputtering.


----------



## diaglo

*The die is cast*

It was cold and mostly dark. The party had only the few trinkets they carried that shed light. And everyone was wet. The water at least had been clean of filth. But it took activity to get the blood flowing again.

Fiddle and Calrom found the Ogre's trail again. A slick tunnel under the waterfall. Dagger Falls from Fiddle's guess. The noise was deafening. And communication was impossible.

"The perfect spot for an ambush," Fiddle realized. He had his guard up.  But no trouble came. The party trudged on for a solid hour. They were soon past the Falls and all other discernable landmarks. They were also steadily descending. Descending into the Depths of the Earth. Chasing after a band of Monsters that could somehow be linked to the Drow, if not guided by at least 1 of the dark elves. Fiddle checked over his gear when the party stopped for a breather.

"How far are we going to chase these guys?" Darian asked.

"Have you got  somewhere else to be?" Sully replied. "This is as good a place as any to find the answers we seek. Besides it might lead to the Underdark. I've been hoping to get this blood exposed before it's too late."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Darian admitted. "I don't want to go where we may not be able to return."

"I'm in," Fiddle chirped. "However long or far it takes us."

"Me, too," Calrom and Arendel responded simultaneously.  They looked at each other in a huff and turned away embarrassed.

"If there is a story to tell," Alya smiled. "I'm there too."

"Darian?" Sully asked. "We really could use you on this adventure."

"Oh, I'm in," Darian shrugged. "I just want to make sure you all know just what we are getting ourselves into."

Everyone checked their gear. There wasn't much help. The party continued on the trail. Fiddle was undaunted. He had a spring in his steps. They were on another adventure.


----------



## diaglo

*A new friend*

The party traveled for several hours steadily following the Ogre's tracks. And then none. The ground was stone with little to no dust or sand. But there was only way. Just in case Arendel and Alya checked the walls for hidden passages. Fiddle and Calrom once again took the lead.

Less than an hour later the tunnel began to rise slightly. So very slightly that Fiddle wondered if he was just wishing it was heading back up to the surface. A glow appeared ahead. He and Calrom glanced around and released this was too dangerous. They went back to warn the party.

"There is something up ahead," Fiddle said as he found the party. "Could be an ambush."

"I think Alya should come with us," Calrom suggested. "He can see better than us and doesn't need a light source."

"We'll all go," Darian remarked. "If there is trouble it is best if we don't get split up. And someone who can be diplomatic should take point."

"I'll do it," Sully stepped forward with Fiddle and Calrom right behind. "If I see someone hold your fire. I've got a spell I've been aching to try out."

They reached the lit edge of the tunnel again.

"Who goes there?" a gruff voice said in the barely understandable trade language. "How many of you..."

Sully summoned his magic and cut the voice short. "You seem like a nice fellow. Show yourself and lets be friends."

An Ogre momentarily blocked out the light as he stepped thru the entrance of a chamber and into the tunnel with the party. "I'm Graak. Who are you little friend?"


----------



## diaglo

*Stakeout*

Fiddle shifted the two small loaded crossbows he had in his hands under his cloak. Sully strode forward.

"Ozlo Sullygrub," Sully smiled. "My friends call me Sully."

"S-s-s-ully," Graak stammered. "You'll have to pay a toll. Just like everyone else."

"You wouldn't charge a friend, would you?" Sully continued. "No, of course, not. We are looking for some other friends. A small guy like my friend Fiddle here, an elf or two although they are probably drow, and a couple humans or orcs. Plus a big guy like yourself."

Graak looked dazed but something finally registered. "Yeah, a group like that is here. They are with my friends. Come. Follow me. I'll take you to them." Graak turned to leave. He said something in what Fiddle guessed was Giant to the chamber. An answer from inside followed. Graak waved again. "Come."

The party entered the chamber prepared for trouble but not too openly. Inside stood 5 more Ogres. Not as big or menacing as Graak, but just as much trouble. Across the way was a female drow, a cloaked halfling sized figure, a couple hobgoblins, and an Ogre. The drow sneered at the party.  A few seconds later, a pair of the Ogres escorted them away down a side tunnel. Fiddle noticed several tunnels leading away from the chamber. When Fiddle turned back to Sully. Graak was talking.

"This is the Bridge Toll," Graak said. "There is another way into the Underdark.. _snicker_ [all of the Ogres snickered] but no one chooses that way. And besides we have a mighty ally. Mishal."

"Mishal?" Sully asked concerned. "Does he watch over you?"

Fiddle turned away again. He scanned the room again. A large table and at least 8 giant sized chairs occupied the center. A reinforced door with iron bars was set in one wall. A window a few feet up made for a perfect view of the chamber. Fiddle crept under the table and towards the door while Sully continued to talk to Graak.

"....duergar.... wizard.... drow....Szith Morcane.... Underdark... guide...." bits and pieces of the conversation continued to interrupt Fiddle's attention. He stood opposite the window.  He couldn't see in. So he jumped up and down.... A gray skinned bald dwarf stood looking at him with malice in his expression and two nasty blades in his hands. Fiddle smiled and waved back and he jumped up and down.

"Your friend is funny," Graak's voice penetrated the chamber. "Little man should eat."

Fiddle wasn't sure if Graak meant eat him or give him something to eat. He returned to Sully's side.


----------



## diaglo

*T(r)oll Bridge*

Sully prepared a nice meal for the Ogres. He improvised with what spices he had in his pouch and turned down Fiddle's offer of the drow poison. He also added a touch of his magic. The main meat was a mystery. Something the Ogres had been cooking over the flame for hours. Graak and the Ogres really enjoyed it. Fiddle and the others did too.

"Mishal," Graak yelled. "You gotta try this. It is good. Friend Sully make a good cook."

"I can do better," Sully smiled. "But I need to gather some of my own spices and main ingredients."

"Calrom, it is a shame we don't have Mulebone with us," Alya laughed. "I'm sure the Ogres would love him."

"Where is Mulebone?" Arendel asked. 

"I left him back at the camp," Calrom barked. "I wasn't going to have Alya offer him to every creature we met in the Underdark. Nor become a snack for the Bear."

*(There was a whole lot of very good roleplaying on JoeBlank's part here. But I'll leave it for him to tell you.)*

Sully had gone to talk with Mishal, a human wizard with a peg leg. He was on a  ledge overlooking the Ogres. He was bone thin and pale as a ghost. Perhaps he was a ghost. Fiddle didn't care. He wanted to catch the drow party.

The stew pot was empty. A few minutes later, Graak screamed something again in Giant down a side passage. A scream of terror in yet another language was cut short. Sully flinched. After the meal, the party was escorted to the bridge. On the opposite side a squad of duergar waited.

"Graak, we need a guide to catch our friends," Sully hinted. "Perhaps you could come with us."

"Graak too important," the Ogre replied sadly. "Graak make much money with Mishal. Mishal will be upset with Graak if he leaves."

"You won't be gone long," Sully promised. "We just need to catch our friends."

"Graak can't go," Graak admitted. "But if you find D'nD you may be lucky. He and his caravan left only a day ago. D'nD is an excellent guide."

Graak said goodbye and returned to the chamber.

"We have 4 crossings," Sully filled the party in. "Don't eat the last meal. It is gnome. I just hope it wasn't a relative." He blanched. "The duergar and Ogres work for Mishal, sorta. There is an uneasy truce here. I'm just glad we didn't upset the balance."

"Me, too," Arendel agreed. "The balance must be maintained."

Darian slapped his forehead. "Druids," he whispered.


----------



## diaglo

*D'nD*

The party crossed the bridge. One of the duergar was clearly insane. But no violence came of it. Within a few hundred yards the party had lost the drow again.

"Now what?" Alya asked. "Lets go back and get Graak."

"Four crossings," Fiddle reiterated. "Lets pick one and see if we can catch this D'nD fellow."

Calrom and Sully went back to the bridge. They were back to the party in a few minutes.

"We can't cross without using one of our passes and Graak is out of earshot," Calrom said. "Well which way?"

Fiddle pulled out his loaded crossbows. "You talking to me, you talking to me, I didn't think you were..."

"Fiddle cut that out," Darian barked.

Fiddle picked a passage and took off with his light. The party followed. Calrom soon outdistanced the hin. They kept this pace for 4 days and nights. Or what the party guessed to be days. Darian and Arendel were the only ones sure of themselves.

And then they got lucky. Or maybe D'nD was unlucky. A way down. A shaft that descended many hundreds of feet. Lizard tracks... from Graak's description of the caravan this could be D'nD.


----------



## diaglo

*That's not a knife*

Alya vanished from sight and sound again. Fiddle sharpened his blades and loaded his crossbows. Everyone else prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

A silence fell around the party and then was dispelled.

"Looks like D'nD is a duergar," Alya appeared. "He and several of his pack lizards are just ahead. I didn't see any other handlers. But knowing the gray dwarves there are probably at least a couple more hiding invisibly."

"How do you want to approach this?" Darian asked.

"I say we hail to the camp and approach unthreateningly," Fiddle suggested. "We need a guide. Does anyone speak Dwarf? or Underdark?"

"I might be able to communicate," Alya hinted.

Alya led the way. The party on his heels.

" Ooi ooi me boyo, 'Ello in da Camp," Alya hailed.

" 'Ouse dat?" the dwarf replied. "Comz 'ere so eyz can cya."

Fiddle smiled and interrupted the conversation. "Fiddle Skipstone, Dragonhunter with the rest of the Stormslayers."

"Somebody shut him up before he ruins it for us," Darian muttered. "And Alya knock off the accent."

Alya ignored the Priest and winked at Fiddle. "Leave this to me."

Two more duergar materialized when the party was in view of the camp. They had crossbows trained on the gnome and the druid. Alya discovered the caravans problems and offered a solution.

The largest and best of the pack lizards had come up lame. Arendel with Darian and Calrom's help would see to the beast in exchange for some information.

D'nD was agreeable. He also asked about Fiddle's Dragon stories. He knew of a Dragon which needed taking care of... Part dragon, part basilisk,... all trouble...


----------



## diaglo

*next update after July 11th maybe*

here too i'm leaving the meeting and interaction with D'nD to *biorph*

he did an outstanding job of staying in character and keeping the party's interests in focus... even thru the distractions of distant players/ and the PCs who weren't involved....


we are possibly meeting again July 3, 4, 10, or 11th. schedules are in conflict... so we are working on it.


----------



## diaglo

looks like the next session will be Aug 15.


----------



## the Jester

So is this presently up to date?

Good stuff- keep it up!


----------



## diaglo

the Jester said:
			
		

> So is this presently up to date?





well Fiddle's part is up to date.

but both *biorph* and *JoeBlank* have more information if they wish to add.

Fiddle is like 900xp shy of 10th. drooling over my next power up.

probably Ranger 6... +1 BAB, +1 to all Saves, +1 spell, +1 attack with ITWF, improved animal companion


----------



## diaglo

*Lizard train to a Land Down Under*

D'nd was more than agreeable. He and his cousins, Grishelm and Eric, accepted the party as extra guards. The 20 lizards in the train started off the next morning on the way to the trading outpost of Szith Morcane. D'nd warned the party to work on their disguises. They stuck out and would likely be slain outright. Arendel and a reluctant Calrom donned two of headbands Arendel had received from his order. They were soon drow. Alya tried one too. But not enough elven blood remained to complete the transformation. Sully likewise changed form with magic. He and Alya were a matched set of kobolds. That left only Fiddle and Darian. Fiddle rummaged around in his things. He went for the short, thin duergar look. He failed miserably. And everyone told him so. So he took another stab at it. This time he went for the deeper gnome disguise. Smurf nibblin' cookies. In the dimlight and if you squinted he was almost passable. 

"La, la, la..." Fiddle started to sing.

Darian cupped his hand over the hin's mouth. He tried for the human slave of the kobold routine... The glowing light on his forehead had to be doused. All of the lights went out. Fiddle held onto a lizard for guidance.

D'nd and the train set off. A short trek later they passed a side tunnel. The train avoided it. But D'nd and the others talked about what might be in that direction. Fiddle  concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without stubbing his toes. They kept going.

"Shhhh," D'nd whispered in common. "We are approaching a guard post. The drow here aren't too friendly. But they are expecting me and me kin."

The first lizard approached a hole in the floor of the tunnel. And there was a loud PPPPPlllllooooppp from behind followed by a chirp from Alya. Fiddle fired his two handcrossbows at the sound. He hit the roof of the tunnel.

Eric grumbled something in duergar.  And then there was light. Arendel and the Bear were visible along with a writhing mass of stone on the floor. Something had fallen from the ceiling in an attempt to smother Alya. The thing had failed. The Bear made it pay. It raked claws and maw over the body of the mass.

Someone called out in elven... Fiddle guessed drow ahead. Calrom replied. The creature floated out of the light. Eric gave chase. The party quickly reloaded and resumed their positions.

D'nd beckoned everyone to follow his lead. Down the lizard train went into the hole. The Lurker thing never did come back.


----------



## diaglo

*bizarre Bazaar*

As Fiddle climbed down the rope into the chasm below he had the distinct feeling he was not going to like this. He felt like a gnat caught in a web. A very large web. This web spanned the Chasm. Phosphorescent fungi lit the web in places. His feet touched more solid ground. Two drow sentries in white tabards over chain mail and their commander in puffy tunic and breeches, an obvious spellcaster , stood to one side to let  the lizards pass. The lizards went on without stopping. Well almost Calrom held one by its harness. A large black spider hopped at the commander's feet. D'nd had an eye on the thing. Fiddle's eyes locked on something else. 

_A hideous creature stood watch behind the commander. Though it had the overall shape and stature of an elf, no shred of skin or hair was visible on its body-- just gleaming muscles slowly oozing blood. Its eyes watched without blinking, and its fists constantly clenched and unclenched as if it couldn't wait to tear something apart._

The rest of the party arrived. Sully, Darian and the Bear floated down with the aid of magic. Arendel and Alya had to climb. The drow exchanged words with D'nd and Calrom. Fiddle swore he would soon have the gist of the drow language. He almost understood what they were saying.  But still he remained quiet. No use getting the group into trouble when they needed to talk to the dark elves. Information was key.

The puffy pants elf barked an order and D'nd nodded. The party was allowed to continue to the Bazaar.

Huzzah, huzzah, huzzah. We are off to the Bazaar. Boy, Fiddle missed his days traveling with his family and their small caravan. He loved the Bazaar. He just hoped this one was like the ones above ground.

Three duergar besides D'nd's group, 3 fishmen carrrying a blue light stick, 2 more drow in white tabards, and a mindflayer occupied the bazaar. The mind flayer had a human thrall, a big brute of a man bare skinned with multiple scars. Alya went to the mind flayer and began conversing in draconic. Sully likewise broke out into trade. Fiddle stood near the lizards. Arendel and Calrom went to the side with the drow. Darian became the interest of the mind flayer. Actually much interest was being paid to Darian. So Fiddle ducked to the side to watch for trouble. Arendel returned.

Fiddle waved to Sully. He was busy with the mind flayer now. Sully called him over to his side. Fiddle traded a couple rings both of which were trophies and of sentimental value to the mind flayer in exchange for a ring Fiddle had seen Alya wear. One he knew was very strong in magic. It would be worth the trade, but still it hurt. The diamond Vladaam signet ring was a hard fought trophy. So too was the ring of minor protective magic from the other mind flayer. Fiddle giggled to himself about that one. He did still have the other mind flayer ring vs. electricity.

It was then Fiddle saw Calrom come passed. Unarmed and escorted up a side web strand.

"He's got the bag with all our food and stuff," Fiddle remembered. "Rats...."

Fiddle faded into the caravan shadows and then gave chase.


----------



## howandwhy99

*Not quite what I intended...*

Calrom stared across into the eight pairs of colorless dark elf eyes; each gleamed in anticipation of killing him.

"How do I get myself into these things?", he pondered.

--

It seemed only minutes ago the pale dwarf had been drawling on endlessly about hunting some draconic beast deep in the abyss below as they travelled the underdark. An eight-legged dracosquip or something or another. Calrom hadn't been interested. His heart only knew one kind of beast; and the elves of Szith Morcane would soon come into view. 

He was not fond of having to wear the necklace of true elf form either. Still, he recognized its uses, even if it did spur more rumors among his "comrades"-in-arms. "Let them talk", he had thought to himself. "Elven blood has been purged from this body. I have the cuts to prove it."

But then they were attacked just as they reached the outpost entrance. Another treachery devised by the rulers of Szirth Morcane, no doubt. The guards had called out, but Calrom calmly responded in his best drow-dripping elven, "Hold. It will just be a minute. We are under attack." They would not get the best of him.

After the battle he had his first scare of the day: a skinless elf stood in the corner of the entrance cave. It seethed with anger. Calrom leaned over and whispered, "I see someone's already gotten to you".

Once the team had reached the central bizarre everyone had spread out. It was unwise tactically seeing as every other being here was each a viler form of evil than the next. As the only dark elf in the party, Arendel was being uniquely quiet. Seeing as he currently passed as an elf, Calrom had decided to join the drow guards and ask about purchasing some of the local dress and information.

This is when things started to go wrong.

They had laughed at him. They had cursed Calrom and said that he had spent too much time with the uplanders. Then, they walked away in mid-conversation. That was too much. So Calrom did the best thing possible. He pulled out the royal elf medallion of Szith Morcane the team had scavenged from the corpses of the elves from the crypt in Daggerdale. The response was immediate.

One of the guards dropped to his knees and started praising Calrom as some prince who had finally returned to reclaim Szith Morcane. The second quickly ran off apparently to tell the others of the joyous news of their prince's arrival. 

Except when he returned there were several more guards with him. Their words seemed to fly by in an instant. They named him a dark elf prince whom had returned foolishly to his lost seat of power. At least, that was as much as Calrom had taken in at the time before he started denying up and down and instead tried to claim that he held the prince captive and the medallion was his proof. Regardless, he had soon dropped his bow and rapier and was forced back into the main caverns of the bizarre.

Pointedly not looking at his teammates, Calrom haughtily strutted by as best he could attempting to play the part of the this "lost prince". He had quite the urge to give a false-subtle wink to Arendel as he stood in the rear, but somehow he had held back. Under guard he climbed the outpost's clift-web towards a new opening.

In what looked like the guard's headquarters, there were four more dark elves and another skinless elf in the corner. This brought the total to eight. Eight pairs of eyes staring with vengeful hatred. Eight mouths twitching with shameless glee. 

--

"Strip", one demanded.

Looking around Calrom counted again: four fighters, three potential mages, all male, and who knows what hell that one's from. He took the only course he saw left open to him.

With as much show as possible, Calrom removed the necklace of True Elf Form, and ran in the least occupied direction as possible: deeper into the tunnels. 

Amazingly the distraction worked. He quickly dodged around a corner and tried to sink into the wall. His mind wracked as he tucked his hand into his bag of holding. "What exactly do I have in here again?"


----------



## diaglo

*18 showing... HIT ME...*

Fiddle found the route Calrom had taken. He followed as fast as he could.

_Corsa_

Fiddle moved faster. He pulled out his light coin too.

"Fiddle," Sully's voice said from nearby. "I've cast a spell so we can all communicate. Tell us what you see. Arendel is right behind you."


Ahead of Fiddle was an opening in the side of the wall. The web strand was almost vertical there. He hurried ahead after he heard the sound of an alarm. 

"What has Calrom done now?" Fiddle thought

He cleared the web and faced a stirred up hornet's nest. A spellcaster and at least 6 drow guards plus one of the skinless things.

"HIT ME," Fiddle screamed.

The air around and in front of Fiddle flashed and sparkled. Sully had cast a ball of lightning. The drow writhed in pain, but only two of them dropped. Fiddle rushed forward.

_Foudre_

The spellcaster arched his own bolt of lightning at Fiddle. He missed. Fiddle stuck his hand out and made a crude gesture. He raked Lightning Strike and Hole Punch on the drow's hide. It was like striking the wall. Arendel closed in behind Fiddle to help. He was in Dire Ape form. The remaining drow went down a passageway and vanished from sight. The skinless thing looked at Fiddle and sneered. Fiddle froze.

Arendel and the skinless thing exchanged blows. Acid ate at the druids fur. Darian, the Bear, and Sully were suddenly there too. Alya's voice cared upto the chamber but nothing else.


----------



## diaglo

*Spell resistance what's that*

Fiddle huddled in a little ball. He didn't want to look at the skinless thing. He noticed one drow turn opposite his fellows probably to get help. Darian called on Lathander. The pieces of the skinless creature melted in the light of the Morning Lord. Action continued. Calrom flew overhead of the party and out the way they had just come.

"Really Big Spider," Calrom yelled back. "Really, really big spider. Behind you Sully."

Sully launched more and more balls of lightning into the drow. They fell left, right and center. The Bear ravaged the spellcasting drow while Arendel assisted. Alya was still nowhere in sight. In fact, his voice and singing were more distant and then stopped all together. Calrom flew back to the party and slightly ahead.

Fiddle regained his composure and followed Calrom. As his light shone into the hallway he found the lost drow and his help.

"Another army approaches," Fiddle screamed. "HIT ME."

_Foudre_

Sully obliged. The hallway cackled with electrical charges. The drow cursed and writhed in pain. They came on though. Balls of ice pummeled Fiddle and Calrom. The half-elf went down. Fiddle held his ground.

Darian, Arendel, and the Bear fought briefly with the spider before it fled. They then turned and waited for the ice to stop.

A pause in the action as the last ice crystal hit. Fiddle counted 2 females, 1 spellcaster, and 2 more male guard. 

One male drow succeeded in running behind Fiddle. He felt the taste of Hole Punch for that act of foolhardiness. The females closed on Fiddle. One scored a gash on the hin's forearm. The other male was cut down by a beam of light from Darian. No, not just from Darian. But also from a ball of light near him. Fiddle swung Lightning Strike and killed the male at his back. He reversed his weapon and brought Hole Punch into the fray. One and two and blood hit the ground. A few minor cuts to add to the electrical shock this elf maid had endured. The Bear barrelled into the combat. He bowled over the two females. Two more guards and another spellcaster attacked from the front entrance. Things were getting out of hand. Arendel tried some magic. Redd yelped and ran into the chamber. It fizzled and died around the drow, but the Ice storm had pelt poor Redd. So there was truth about their ability to resist magic. Sully fired off another Ball of Lightning at the new threat.


----------



## diaglo

*3 Evo7, 2 ftr9, cr8 undead, 13 ftr5*

The other spellcaster tried to fly over the Bear. He didn't make it. The Bear ripped him from the sky. It cost him dearly. The mage had some fire surrounding him. Still the Bear held tight. The Bear tore into the elf. Even with his protective fire ring and skin of stone the Bear tore his head off. The two females stepped aside and finished the Bear. Fiddle backpedaled. He moved to protect Sully and the others. Darian knocked the spellcaster from the sky at the front entrance. He fell like a burning meteor to the Chasm floor. And Arendel finished off the last of the guards at the back. That left just the 2 females.

And then everyone was gone. Sully had cast another spell. The party was invisible.

The females approached Darian's ball of light. Darian and the ball attacked. One of the females charged. Fiddle scored a gash to her kidney. He and she weren't finished.  The other drow squared off on Fiddle. He was trapped between the 2 of them. If only Fiddle knew for sure where Arendel was. If only Arendel or Sully could give him a hand and attack from the other side. He knew he could easily kill these drow. Still no sign of them. So Fiddle stepped back out of the danger and landed a few blows of his own.

And the drow came apart. There stood Arendel the Ape. He tore chunks from the elf maid. The other one felt Sully's magic bolts and Darian's mace. The fight was over.

"Hurry," Alya appeared riding a giant pack lizard. "We don't have much time. We must get out of here."


----------



## diaglo

*Looking for trouble*

Somewhere along the line Alya had purchased the human thrall from the mind flayer. His name was Erik. The bard also bought one of the pack lizards from D'nd.This was getting weirder and weirder.

Fiddle went to check the hallways for more reinforcements. None. However, he did find several doors. One was ajar. Barracks. 5 doors, 5 empty rooms. One had a spell trap from which Fiddle dodged away. Of the furnishings and items Fiddle only found paperwork. He quickly stuffed the parchments into his sack.

"Darian is casting a spell to get us out of here," Alya rounded the corner. "Come help me with the prison cells on the other hall."

Fiddle obliged. Erik was now wearing armor and carrying a rapier. He too helped.

Nothing of interest in the first 2 cells. Before they had a chance to open the third... A large fiery form appeared. It was reptilian and angry. It blocked the hall. It also had a mean spear in its claws.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Just wait 'till we get to the back story on Erik.  The DM might need to write a brief interlude ...

And really, lest any readers think I'm a patsy DM, there's no reason the party should have survived this fight, especially since they kept taking actions that allowed the drow to bring in reinforcements.  If it weren't for JoeBlank continuously making his Spell Resistance checks (coupled with that darned Sculpt Spell feat for his _scintillating spheres_) they would have been mopped up fairly quickly.

As it was, they were against the ropes at the point the bear went down.  Calrom was out, Arendel and Fiddle were on their last few hit points, and Sully isn't much of a challeneg when he runs out of spells.  Only Darian was still in fair fighting trim when the last black elf fell.

All in all, it was pretty remarkable.


----------



## diaglo

*Noble Salamander and Nobler Earth*

_This being had a muscular humanoid upper body with a hawkish face. Its body was serpentine from the waist down, and was covered in red and black scales. Flame-shaped spines sprouted from the creature's back, arms, and head._

It towered over Erik, Fiddle and Alya and was easily the size of any Giant. The eyes showed signs of malicious intelligence. This one was used to giving orders and not taking any lip.

Fiddle ran clear and launched Hole Punch. He scored a nasty gash. Clearly it would take more than that.

Alya swore an oath, moved back, and fired his bow. The arrow struck home. Again another nasty wound. The creature bled fire. Erik stepped to the side and drew his rapier. He stabbed low. The creature responded with a thrust of his spear. It moved closer to Alya. Erik bled and burned. 

Fiddle screamed for help and launched Hole Punch again. Calrom arrived and fired a volley of arrows into the Flame snake. Sully also appeared. Five bolts of magic splattered on the thing's hide. Alya fired another volley of arrows. The beast knocked Alya low. The kobold fell from the heat and wounds. Erik stabbed again and again but was soon overcome by the flames.

Fiddle prepared for the worst. Darian still needed time to complete his spell to get the party out of here. He threw Hole Punch once more. Another hit. Calrom rushed to Alya's side. He was just clear of the spear, but the ranger knew he was the next target. And then Sully saved the day.

_Foudre_

A ball of Lightning exploded behind the Flame thing. Puff it was gone.

Calrom poured a potion down Alya's throat. The kobold breathed. He survived. Erik too needed help. Spell upon spell upon spell was cast by Arendel and then Alya. The party was whole again. Though, no one wanted to fight another thing.

Sully reached out with his magic.

"Nothing," the gnome whispered. "We need to go further into the Underdark. I can't sense the faerzress."

"Not right now," Darian called. "I've negotiated a way out."

A large hunk of stone devoured the mithril armor from the drow. It began to open a hole in the ceiling. Fiddle touched the medallion he had and activated some magic. He floated upwards and dropped a rope down to the others. They followed the stone hulk to hopefully the surface. Arendel completed his spell and 4 smaller blocks of stone sealed the exit and tracks behind the party. Erik and the lizard tagged along with Alya.


----------



## the Jester

Damn, those drow were tough. 

Olgar, keep up the good work.

You too, diaglo- I really enjoy this tale.


----------



## diaglo

*In The light of Lathander a tale is told*

The party trudged behind the stone creature for hours. It ate a way to the surface. Then the creature crumbled. And the party saw light. The light of Lathander.

A new dawn. And they were in a forest. Quickly, Fiddle, Calrom, and Arendel assessed the area. Cormanthyr. Not but a mile or two from Elven's Crossing. They were home. They were in Mistledale. Erik kissed the ground. He begged for paper and a quill. Darian obliged.

It was then Fiddle realized the Human thrall lacked a tongue. He listened as Darian read Erik's tale aloud. Erik was a warrior from another band of adventurers. The Company of the 11th Hour. They had been captured by the drow and enslaved. The spellcasters were slain outright. Bartol and Bernedette were still as far as Erik knew alive. And Bernedette was heavy with child. 

The party decided to go to Ashabenford. Here they would rest and regroup and plan their next move. Arendel begged off. He went into the forest to say farewell to the Bear and to find a new friend. Alya hid among the packs on the lizard. Calrom had to help calm the animal. The open air was too much for the subterranean beast. 

Upon nearing town, the Riders gave the party a good tonguelashing for all their strange doings. After a promise and a nod they were allowed on their merryway.

The White Hart Inn was a welcome sight. Darian sent word thru Lathander's magic to Randal Morn.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

_*One year earlier ... *_

The drow woman sneered as the snivelling elf rogue beat a hasty retreat to the surface.  _Surface dwellers, always so weak_.

"Search the others, and determine what they carry and how many live.  Nightscale will want a tribute."

Her minions rapidly searched the party of surface raiders, determining that though some were close to death's door, all still retained some grip on life.  The remaining wizard brought those things that retained magical auras to her, among them a great bastard sword whose runes named _Glorytongue_ in the surface dialect, and a curious floating spellbook.

"Nightscale will be pleased with this tribute.  Feed him the dwarf as well, lest he get hungry.  Strip the rest, and bind them to the pack lizards.  We'll deliver them to the slave market at Szith Morcane."

----

Erik awoke in the pitch dark.  He was weak and woozy, but he lived, though his armor and his sword _Glorytongue_ had been stripped from him.  Some creature was trying to push a waterskin into his mouth, speaking in some unintelligible tongue.

Suddenly the area was lit with a blast of arcane fire, to reveal Thane standing surrounded by dark elves, stripped to his loincloth, but cradling balls of fire in each hand.  The flames burst on one of the shorter males, as a female with a double sword sneaked up behind Thane and bashed him back into unconsciousness.

The bard -- what was his name again? -- attempted to begin a chant, but the drow woman gleefull spun, slicing through the bard's windpipe with one blade of her sword, then severing his head with the second.

"Resistance is useless, surface scum, " the drow woman hissed in accented common.  "Cooperate, and live as slaves, or die now!"  Turning to her minions holding Thane, she said: "That one obviously retains some sorcerous powers, even without a spellbook.  Slit his throat!"

The deed was quickly carried out, and as the drow began to pack up their belongings, Thane's blood pooled beneath him on the cool stone of the passage.

In the light of the fading wizard's fire, Erik could see Bartol sheltering Bernadette, who was huddled next to the barbarian for warmth and protection.  Erik and Bartol's eyes met, and Bartol gave a brief shake of his head.  _Not now, another time.  We are too weak, yet._

---

Days, perhaps weeks, passed.  Time was impossible to determine during their long trek in the pitch blackness.  They would periodically stop and be given mosses and water, but otherwise exsitence was an endless black night from which the stars had been erased.

Finally, though, they emerged into a phosphorescent fungi-lit chamber that was clustered about with all manner of strange subterrenean creatures.  Blinking his eyes against the sudden glare -- what would have been the light of at best a full moon seemed high noon after the long trek in the darkness -- Erik could see their captor bartering with some fish-men and a strange purple humanoid with a tentacled head and pupilless eyes.

Bartol and Bernadette sat on the ground next to Erik, looking pale and haggard, thinned from the days of short rations.  Bernadette's lower belly was bulging -- perhaps the result of their celebration months before?  Bartol's beard was wild and unkempt, and appeared to steel himself for some readied action.

Soon the drow woman returned, followed by a fish man and the purple tentacled thing.  The preisoners' chains were separated. 

"Good news," she hissed in her accented Common, "you get to live another day.  But perhaps only that, tall one, since Ooltul here has a liking for fresh brains!  The Kuo-toa get the bearded one to serve in their temple, and you, sweet thing, shall raise your child to be a thrall of Lloth in the blessed city of Maerimydra."  She cackled, and began leading Bernadette away, handing Erik's chains to the purple thing, and Bartol's to the fish men.

Bartol lunged against his chains, trying to reach Bernadette.  "Bartol, wait!" Erik shouted, attempting to wrest free of his chains -- but Bartol was quickly beaten into unconsciousness.

"Feisty," came the bubbling voice of the purple thing.  "Perhaps I will not feast on you yet -- you have the strength to carry some things back to Messazine for me.  But that grating, surface voice!  Something must be done about it!!

Smooth, cool hands grabbed Erik's head roughly, forcing his mouth open and pulling his tongue so hard he thought it would snap from his jaw.  There was sudden pain ...

As he collapsed into darkness, he heard: "Silly slave.  I'll let you live this day; I'll probably just suck your brain in the morning."

He was to hear that same phrase from his master each day for nearly a year.  _"Silly slave.  I'll let you live this day; I'll probably just suck your brain in the morning."_


----------



## biorph

So did Erik end up becoming the Dread Illithid Pirate Roberts?


----------



## diaglo

*Beam me up Sully*

"Rise and shine, Fiddle," Darian bellowed as he threw open the curtains. "Greet the Glorious Morning Light."

"Oooooo, where is teh dooo daaddd?" Fiddle grunted. "I need a cure for this swollen tongue o' mine."

Fiddle had partied late into the night at the WHite Hart. He had so many tales to tell and not just to Erik. It was a shame Erik couldn't talk, but Fiddle more than made up for him.

"We're going to Glen," Darian continued. "Sully has a new spell he'd like to try."

Fiddle perked up. "A new spell? Will it make me taller, stronger, faster, smarter, happier...."

"No, Fiddle," Sully cut in. "It will take us to places we have been before."

"I'm in." Fiddle jumped up and grabbed his things.

"I've also marked a few of you with another spell," Sully continued. "That way if we are separated and unsure of each other the mark will show the truth."

"We've been Sullied?" Calrom exclaimed.

Everyone laughed.

Alya was to remain in Ashabenford. Arendel was still in the woods. Erik stayed behind with Alya. So Calrom, Darian, and Fiddle joined hands with Sully.


The next thing Fiddle saw were the Gates of Glen. He jumped up and down.

"Hello in the Town," Fiddle yelled.

"Come in," the dwarven guard called back. "The gates are open."


----------



## diaglo

*Ale and Whores: a true adventurer's life*

Darian, Fiddle, Sully, and Calrom went inside. The place looked a shambles in comparison to their last visit. Some of the buildings were boarded up. And the dwarves themselves didn't look as clean kept nor cheery. In fact, it looked like Glen had seen some hard times. The Scheppen family bookbinding business was closed. The first stop for the party was the Smithy.

Darian and Fiddle negoiated a commission on their things. Darian handed over 2 of the drow bucklers and 2 sets of their mithril armor. While Fiddle paid in trade bars. Fiddle stripped off his new armor and handed over his buckler.

Fiddle also told of the death of Dorek the Rogue. The Armorsmith cursed the fallen thief. It was his doing that had caused the death of so many good dwarves at the maw of the Dragon. The Smith spat again.

Fiddle then went to the Weaponsmith with Calrom. He again tried to commission some work. This dwarf was very depressed. It wasn't until Fiddle dropped a bucket load of platinum and bars in his lap that he even got a response. Calrom wasn't so lucky getting work performed on his bow.

It seemed the gem mines.. in fact all the mines of Glen were closed. A spirit or thing of evil lurked below. And there wasn't enough warriors left due to the failed Dragon expedition. Fiddle promised to talk with the others later about it.

Sully, Calrom, and Darian bid farewell to Fiddle as they were bound for Tilverton by way of Sully's new spell. Fiddle still had one more thing to accomplish in Glen.

He found what he sought at the Ringing Hammer. The next 12 days were a blur for Fiddle. Although, at some point during that time Sully and Calrom visited him in a dream.

Fiddle alone was responsible for the recovery of at least part of the economy of Glen. He spent almost 500gp on Ale and WHores, a true adventurer's life.


----------



## diaglo

*Am I drunk yet?*

Fiddle marvelled at all the empty tankards and the lovely maidens at his bedside from last night. He got up and splashed water on his face.

"It is good to be a Ranger," Fiddle thought to himself. "My training pays off in more than one way.   I've outlasted the lot of them."

He stumbled to get his gear together. And there was a knock at the door.

"Fiddle," Calrom's voice called from the other side. "Are you decent?"

"Comin," Fiddle smiled. "No wait, that's what I did last night several times over."

Fiddle met the rest of the party down in the Common Room of the Ringin' Hammer. He told them what he could remember of the trouble in the mines. The party seemed interested. Besides it might lead into the Underdark from the rumors he'd heard in Ashabenford. They talked with the Smith as they gathered their newly refinished things.

The Smith confirmed the truth. Something had attacked the miners. Stolen the metals and gems and chased them away. For clearing out the mines of the danger, the dwarves were willing to finish more work for the party on their weapons. They also told them the secret on how to get into the mines.


----------



## diaglo

*A reCAP of Charisma*

"And what did you find in the woods, Arendel?" Fiddle was so full of questions.

"SSSssssss," Arendel hissed. "He is my new friend."

Fiddle saw the Huge Pit Viper and blanched. "I hope he doesn't get too hungry. Sully, Alya, and I can fit inside his belly with room to spare."

Darian had his shiny new breastplate. Sully had a new feather in his cap. Fiddle his improved chain shirt and buckler. And Calrom had a gleam in his eye as he looked over his bow.

"What did you do while we were busy, Alya?" A sudden realization hit Fiddle. Erik wasn't with them. "And where's Erik?"

"He stayed behind in Ashabenford," Alya replied. "I told him to get on with his life. He said if we ever needed his help to look him up. I hung around the White Hart Inn working on my repertoire. Shall we go?"


----------



## diaglo

*From Meat is Murder...The Headmaster Ritual*

The party followed the Smith's instructions. _ Sir thwacks you on the knees
knees you in the groin
elbow in the face
bruises bigger than dinner plates
I wanna go home
I don't want to stay

Belligerent ghouls_

and the door to the mine opened. They stood in a large chamber lit by wall sconced torches. Five tunnels led off.. Two higher, Two level, and one plummeted...

"That one," Sully said. "That's the way down to the Underdark or I'm a kobold. Sorry, Alya. And sure as Alya is a kobold that's where the trouble came from and went."


The party heard and saw some disturbances. A chittering sound on the main chamber floor and a strange unexplainable glimmer on the higher shelf. Fiddle hid behind Calrom. Alya moved towards the sound.

"RATS," Alya screamed and fired his bow. "VERY LARGE RATS."

The party sprang into motion as battle was joined.


----------



## diaglo

*THe Trap is Sprung*

One of the rats felt the sting of Alya's arrows. And then the blast as a Ball of Lightning dropped in front of the kobold and on top of the Rats. They came on anyway. Tough rats.  One attacked Alya. The Viper swallowed another one. And Fiddle hit one with Hole Punch. Calrom, Arendel, and Darian joined in the fun. Arrows, Balls of ice and beams of light filled the air. The rats stopped kicking.

Still all was not yet done. Two dwarven figures appeared. They fired quarrels at Alya. THey looked like D'nd..Duergar. And another one appeared on the high shelf.

"Get them my children," a feminine voice shouted.

Four more of the rats appeared.

Hole Punch didn't return. So Fiddle leapt down to the dead rat. Rusted. Hole Punch was no more. THese were not ordinary rats. They had a carapace and tentacles. They ... weren't rats at all.


----------



## diaglo

*Druid on Druid action.*

Sully took care of the new Rats. While Calrom and Darian handled the duergar. Fiddle ran for the stairs up to the female dwarf. It was her pets that had caused the demise of Hole Punch. She was gonna pay.

But she was gone. She simply stepped into the wall and vanished. A couple more duergar appeared and were taken down by more missile fire.

Sully and Darian combined magics. They pointed at the wall. The shewitch was expelled. She was in ape form. The ground around the party turned to spikey stones. No one could move without injury. The Ape ran down a tunnel. Arendel assumed eagle form and went after her. Fiddle could hear but not see the result. Calrom, Darian, Alya, and Sully too cringed as a loud Shriek from the eagle ruptured the air.


----------



## diaglo

*The Price of Fame...Two dead Druids*

Sully continued to help Fiddle get over the Spikes. By the time Fiddle rounded the corner the battle was even more desperate. Darian bled from multiple wounds. And the Ape was threatening to ravage Calrom next. Arendel's corpse lay on the side of the tunnel. His arms ripped from their sockets.

The Ape was injured. Fiddle stepped up and added a mark of his own with Lightning Strike. Sully also cast some magic into the fray. However, Darian ended the it all with a meaty shot from his mace to the temple of the sheape. It collapsed and resumed the form of the duergar.

Arendel was dead. Which meant his friend SSSSSsss was on his own again. Redd ran for Sully.

The party waited for the Viper to leave as they licked their wounds and healed up with some magic.

Darian found a pack full of gems and started to hide them.

"Wait a minute, Darian," Alya called. "We promised to return those to the Smith."

"What he doesn't see," Darian started to say.

"But we did," Calrom cut him off too.

"We need to do something with Arendel," Fiddle sniffled.

"I've got the favor of my god," Darian smiled. "We'll bring him back. Just like he did for Alya."

"Bugbear this time," Alya laughed.


----------



## diaglo

*Arendella*

The party returned to the surface. They divided up the loot they could keep from their battle with the duergar and their pets and set aside what would be given back to the Smith. Arendel got most of the useful items. Alya spent the night time deciphering the magic. 

In the morning, Darian prayed and applied the ointment to Arendel's body. He called on Lathander. A mist surrounded the elf. Pooffff.

One minute a dead elf...

the next...

"What the heck are these?" a high pitched voice asked. "And where are my... Oh by Nature's might...Gone.."

A taller human female lay on the ground running her hands all over the new body. Not only was Arendel no longer an elf. He was a she. And it seemed the new hormones were having an effect on her mental capacities.

"PMS," Alya chuckled.

"Now what?" Fiddle asked. "Do we take the other tunnel down to the Underdark?"

Sully nodded. "Aye, the Smith said he will seal us in. But with my new magic we can return by other means."

The party set off for the Mines of Moria again. This time the place was a bustle of activity. The dwarves were busy reclaiming the area. The mine that dropped off into oblivion was a way down into the Underdark. Two large doors were being set into place to seal it.

Down, down, down....the party D1 descended into the Depths of the Earth.


----------



## diaglo

*Lost in the Dark*

The party had no idea how or if they'd find their way. But each member blindly put faith in his deity to see them safe. They stumbled around down passageways with some tracks or recent activity in the hope that they would find a way to the faerzress. After two days of exploring the tracks became more frequent. They were coming to a larger cavern.

A disguise was needed of course. And Arendella wasn't able to use the elf bands any more. So Alya gave Fiddle a magical cap. Fiddle assumed kobold form. Sully likewise became a kobold. And Alya was a kobold. That left Calrom, Arendella, and Darian as Human thralls. They held onto Pony the Pack lizard.

The tunnel did open into a cavern. An immense Cavern. The far walls and the ceiling were lost to the light. The party crawled around to the left. A side tunnel. Fiddle wondered if a guard outpost might be down the side passage. They disregarded it and kept to the main cavern. They kept going.

"GRageaeoiu," a rough voice growled. It came from outside of the light.

"And who speaks that foul language?" Alya replied in drow.


----------



## diaglo

*Cavern hopping*

A very large hairy goblinoid stepped into view. He had rough scale armor and a war harness. In his hand was a wicked morning star.

"Kobold, what are you doing here?" the bugbear asked in Undercommon. "Turn off your light. You will attract attention. I'm surprised the Wyrm hasn't eaten you already."

"We use it so the slaves won't slow us down," Alya replied. "Which way to Szith Morcane?"

The bugbear laughed.

Alya just shrugged. "We are looking for a place to sell these humans. Maerymidra or Mezzobearean or.."

"You are lost," the bugbear cut in. "Go there <he pointed> you will find the way you seek. Now leave me alone."


The party continued in the general direction the bugbear mentioned.

"What have we here?" a drow queried.

"Merchants," Fiddle called back.

"Someone shut him up," Darian called.

Calrom elbowed the Cleric. "Let the kobolds do the talking," the ranger whispered.

"Well at least..." Darian began to protest.

"Please ignore my slower minded friend," Alya took over negoiations. He tried to drowned out the chatter by the supposed human slaves...


----------



## Piratecat

Did you roll randomly for the reincarnation? How'd you decide gender? That's always an interesting spell.


----------



## diaglo

Piratecat said:
			
		

> Did you roll randomly for the reincarnation? How'd you decide gender? That's always an interesting spell.




purely random roll.

just like when Alya was killed and brought back earlier in the story/campaign

50/50 on gender. so our elven female became a male kobold
and now our elven male became a female human


spoiler


Spoiler



the fun is not over with reincarnate... still updating from the last session


----------



## diaglo

*Asberdies lives...*

"Toll," the drow said. "You must pay the toll."

"Aye," Fiddle remarked. "I've got your toll right here."

"Fiddle?" Sully jumped.   


Fiddle hit the drow with a copper coin. "There," Fiddle snapped. "You've got all my coin."

"Asberdies will have fun with you little one," the drow scoffed. "Don't take the passage on the right if you wish to live."

Sully quickly paid the drow in gems. The way was ahead. They passed two more drow sentries. And then they were into tunnels again. Long winding tunnels.

They had travelled just an hour or so when a commotion was heard ahead. A swarm of gnomes approached. Fiddle quickly doffed the magical cap and returned to hin form. No use having gnomes attack... when gnomes attack just isn't right. Bald gnomes with a gray stoney colouring. Deep gnomes... Smurf nibblin'

La la la la la la...

"Mooooower," the gnomes ran by. "Run, it has eaten 2 clansman already."

Calrom tossed some caltrops on the path as the party braced for the Moooower. or Maybe it was maur.


----------



## diaglo

*A booming Voice.*

_Amico_

"Hello, friend," Sully called out to the darkness in Undercommon.

"Huh?" a deep gravely voice responded. "You have wine?"

The misshaped form of a Giant appeared in the light. A massive being. He was hunched over to fit into the tunnel. "Grogggg," he said further. "Want wine. You give Grogggg wine."

This did not look good. However, Fiddle and the others thought it was too late to run. They fidgetted while Sully plied his magic. But Grogggg was not to be dissuaded. He was cunning. And as much as Sully and then Alya tried to convince him to just let the party go he would not listen.

All heck broke loose when Darian fired off a beam of Lathander's light.

And Alya swore an oath to his bow. The bow screamed in ELVEN ... _Death to my enemies_. Sully quickly followed suit with a ball of Lightning.

Arendella called on the fires of Nature. A pillar of fire engulfed the Giant. And then the Giant reacted. He moved closer and unfurled a little.

He screamed at the party. A shock wave buffeted them. Calrom back away and fired a volley of arrows.

Fiddle rolled forward and struck with Lightning Strike. Darian tried to use his wand. Alya prepared to fire again. The Giant squashed him. Sully cleared his head of the noise. Arendella moved out of the Giant's reach. The Giant batted Fiddle aside.  Calrom fired off another volley of arrows. Fiddle collected himself. 

Darian readied himself for melee. Sully caused the party to vanish. The Giant unfurled some more. Some of his wounds healed. Calrom fired again. Fiddle ran forward. He positioned himself in between the Giant's feet and stabbed upwards with Lightning Strike. The Giant collapsed.


----------



## diaglo

*And another one bites the dust*

ALya was dead. The bow went silent as the Giant fell. The gnomes came forward.

"That was brave," one of the gnomes said. "Come we must away to safety."

The party collected themselves and left with the gnomes. When they had time Arendella applied ointments to Alya's form. She called on nature's magic.

Pooofff.

Where once lay a dead kobold ... now a female gnome... wait... something else happened... the form became... a male hin. (we use hero points.. *biorph* would have been a gnome. which he liked. but when he asked..*Olgar Shiverstone* told him he couldn't be a deep gnome. so he used his hero point to roll again... he came up halfling. he is hoping to be a ghostwise halfling... but is still waiting for a ruling from *Olgar* )


----------



## diaglo

Bumping the Story Hour on Joe and Ryan's Birthday.

our next session is still in the works. when schedules are worked out.


----------



## diaglo

*arielslover moves to Vegas...*

Arendella, in an effort to find her new self, is going to leave her friends that she has grown to feel a kindred spirit for. She requires time away from all civilization to figure out what has occured to her, and to find ways to deal with it. She hopes that the forest, which has always provided for her, will again do the same.

Farewell friends. May your travels be safe. If not, may the loot be fat.


* a bump for what was to be another session but is now in limbo as we are down one player and another will be on vacation *


----------



## diaglo

*Alya's new form a more detailed version*

"I am Rugan," the smurfnibblin leader spoke, "a priest of Callarduran Smoothhands.  Come we will lead you to safety so that you may rest and recover from your injuries."

Fiddle searched the Giant and collected his trophy before he followed. Rogaine the Bald quickly led the party off the beaten path. The humans had to duck and squirm to fit some of the passages. Arendella carried Alya's corpse. After several hours the party and the gnomes entered a cavern.

A muscular smurf with 2 fancy blades approached and Rogaine waved a secret hand signal.

"Wait here," Rogaine mumbled. "I will let our chief Adel know you are here and how you saved us from the Maur. There are others of your kind here." He departed into another passage. 

The other was a familiar face.

"Vlad," Darian yelled. "Vlad Greycloak, how by the Sun are you?"

Fiddle reached into his sack and extracted some coins. "Your share," the hin said by way of greeting. "Forty-six platinum... I've been carrying these around for you for months now it seems."

"Great. I've got coin in my pockets and friends aplenty and not a bar to be had," Vlad beamed back at the group.

The party rested and licked their wounds. Arendella reformed Alya in the morning. Once a kobold ...then a gnome and finally a halfling.. a dirty stone chiseled one.


----------



## diaglo

*Much you have yet to learn...*

The muscular smurf ran to the far side of the cavern as a decrepit aged creature emerged with the aid of a lizard. He was hunched over and nearly infirmed, but his eyes spoke of much knowledge. The muscular gnome returned with a makeshift fungal chair.

"Much you have done," the gnome croaked at the party. "Approach and introduce yourselves."

"Master Adel, I am Darian Dawnguard...." Darian began.

"The warrior of Light," Adel interrupted. He coughed. "Come you must see. You must."

"Is it wise Master?" the muscular gnome spoke.

Between fits of coughing the chief gnome told the tale. They had fled Blingdenstone thru a portal after a massive drow invasion. Few gnomes escaped. They numbered near 30 now by the party's estimate. They relied heavily on the muscular gnome, Grishelm, to forage for the clan from the unknown lands around them. What else they have learned was very dire. A dracolisk lived nearby.  And several of the clan had already been captured by Ogres.

Fiddle approached Adel. "May I see your hand?"

Adel offered his palm. Fiddle licked it.

"Nope, Sully, I don't think it was them." Fiddle chirped. "He doesn't taste right."

"Huh?" Vlad  exclaimed. "There is a story here I'm not following. Although with Fiddle anything is possible. I'm glad to see things haven't changed."

"Don't mind Fiddle," Sully quickly gestured for Adel to continue. "He is a little touched in the head."

"From being down here too long and too many blows to the head," Darian added.


----------



## diaglo

*There is another...*

Adel led the party to another chamber. This one was the chief's quarters. Inside on the far wall was a grotto and shrine. The portal was covered with a Netherese inscription

"I know this one," Fiddle ran forward. "Part the Veil of the Universe for me." He waved his hands dramatically for effect.

Nothing happened.

"Part the Veil..." Fiddle gasped as Darian placed a hand over the hin's mouth.

"The prophecy," Adel spoke.

*disguised sword found and lost by some
the spider squashed white banshee come

delivered by priest of Quaan
from black grail dead armies spawn

burn shall dark and die shall light
lest six heroes descend to fight

two blades hath the dragon skinner
heritage lost, the skin changer

blind in depths, warrior of light
faerie touched seeks deepest night

two peoples present but one face
one voice sings for many a race

through dark crypts creep
seeking cavern magic deep

by sword or dark fate
will grail power abate*

Adel then handed Darian a scroll.

"My Lord has a dark streak too it seems," Darian remarked after reading it. "It is written in Celestial and reads:

* When the banshee the grail has earned
and silence whispers in the endless night
heed all that the world has learned
danger threatens drow seal our plight
the rod of dark fate lies close at hand
war and war shall tear the land
by the rods fierce demand
make all mortals understand*


----------



## diaglo

*Arendella parts*

"We need the ranger as a guide," Fiddle pointed out the obvious.

"Yeah," Sully agreed, "but they won't be able to feed themselves nor I suspect defend the grotto very well if we take him."

"I have a solution," Darian smiled. "I'll need some good quality material and some time, however, to craft it. Something to provide food and water for a community of 72. And with some of your help Sully we can give it flavor."

"I have the magic and a finely made goblet of  some value. Time we don't have," Sully grimaced. "What's the reckoning, Fiddle?"

"Eleven days," Fiddle answered. "We have only 11 days left before the blood goes bad and we need to kill another Dragon. I don't know this area well enough to be able to guarantee we will survive the attempt against the Dracolisk. Only the King of the Silver Dragons is available to us."

"I'm going to stay behind," Arendella cut in. "It has been a wonderful journey my friends, but I see I am needed here for now. And I miss the world above."

The party put their proposal to the gnomes. Grishelm and Rugan both deferred to Adel's wisdom. Sully even offered his home in the Hidden Vale. A deal was struck. Thirty sleeps would Grishelm guide the party to the drow caverns to reach the faerzress. In exchange the party would help the ranger find a safer place for the clan and upon return make the item of magic. The party bid Arendella farewell and set off for their fate and the drow city of Maerimydra.


----------



## diaglo

*The Ferry fishman*

They traveled on thru the day taking side passages and avoiding patrols from the duergar, drow, trogs, ogres, illithids, fishmen, and whatever else the Underdark would throw at them. Grishelm proved a very good guide. He knew when to signal for silence and when to lower the light and when to push  the party  to hurry. By the end of the first day the party had covered much ground. Fiddle placed one of the few magics he possessed on the passage just behind the party. An alarm would wake him if trouble approached.

The next day was more of the same. They reached a river and a strange sight. A towering humanoid fish.  The kuo-toa held out his hand. Fiddle placed 7 platinum pieces into it as Grishelm had instructed him. Unfortunately, the fishman wanted 2 more for the lizards. Pony and Grishelm's. Fiddle paid. Fiddle also helped Pony into the longboat. When Fiddle tried to strike up a conversation with the scaler, he was quickly rebuked.

"You didn't pay to talk," the fish croaked. 

He poled them across. Fiddle jumped ashore and tried to coax Pony. The lizard wouldn't budge. So Darian poked it in the hindquarters with a dagger. Pony bucked and the boat rocked. Alya fell overboard.

"OUT, OUT," the kuo-toa demanded. "Stupid surface dwellers."

The party made shore and setoff again. They didn't travel far before they had to make camp.  Fiddle covered the rear with his magic.

An hour or two later, Fiddle woke with a start. He quickly kicked, punched, and shook those around him. Alya, Vlad, and Sully woke.


----------



## diaglo

*Remembering the dead*

Two bodies in armor creaked down the corridor. They were close, real close. But no light shone, so no one knew what they faced. Well almost...

"Death to my enemies," Alya reacted first. The oathbow sang out in elven and arrows whistled thru the air.

Thump, thump, thump

And then there was light. Very bright light. Sully activated the clasp of Lathander. Daylight filled the tunnel. Two dead drow in rusted armor and weaponry faced off against Fiddle and Darian. Both seemed intent on their victims only. Revenants like the one the party had faced in the Banewarrens and Tilverton.  Darian called on the might of Lathander. Nothing. Calrom peppered it with arrows. Fiddle made quick work of his enemy. But his dagger strikes seemed to heal over. Vlad ran forward and hacked into the other one from behind.

The undead drow warriors attacked Fiddle and Darian. Fiddle gained a nick. Alya ended the battle for the one by Fiddle. Two flashes of flame left Sully's fingers. They struck the remaining drow in the face. For just a split second victory was at hand. And then the magic dissolved. Darian lowered the boom with his Mace. 

Grishelm slept thru the whole thing.

Darian made sure these two would not come back again. The party rested until they had regained their magic and their strength. Then off they went.

"This is as far as I've ever traveled. The passage to the East is the Dracolisk," Grishelm whispered when the party came to the next fork. "The one to West goes to a Lake controlled by Giants. They don't like gnomes much."

"To the West then," Darian said. "We aren't for risking  being turned to stone or swallowed alive."


----------



## diaglo

*Miles by foot*

"We are nearing the Giant's home," Grishelm cautioned.

Fiddle confirmed the prints. Around 12 to 14 ft in height and weighing about 1500 to 1800 lbs each. Stone Giants.

The party crept forward. A boulder sailed out of the dark and struck the passage ahead of Grishelm, Calrom, and Fiddle.

"I could've hit you if I wanted," a gruff voice called in Undercommon.

"Aye," Fiddle replied. "But where is the sport in that."

"Fiddle..." Darian quickly jumped into the conversation. "Who threw that wonderful toss?"

A giant stepped into the light of Fiddle's lantern. _The giant resembled a lean, muscular human. Its hard, hairless flesh was smooth and gray. It had gaunt facial features and deep-sunken, black eyes that made it seem grim. _*  He, Darian, and Sully were soon locked into negotiations. A lake 17 miles across blocked the party's progress. The giant was not alone. Fiddle caught another giant in the light and heard the sounds of a large bear overhead in a cave. The talk droned on. A whole clan of Giants occupied this shore. And a colony of fishmen lived on an island just across the way. A kraken was also known to feed in the lake. The party was allowed to go to the lake. Two large rafts with giant guards were on the beach. When Sully asked for passage the Giants told him to swim. Darian bought a conference with the giant's elders for a nice emerald. The party saw the cave bears up close and more giants. It would've been a tough time if they had to fight their way out.

Ghunda and Thurrak, the elders, were gracious hosts. And soon Alya had them convinced to allow the party to use the rafts. It would only cost the performance of the deep halfling's life. If he failed to impress the giant's would keep him or another as a slave. Alya lived up to his boast. He even got the giant's to pay up their end of the bargain. A trip across the lake.

* stone giant entry page 124 MM


----------



## diaglo

*Fishing Tale*

The raft ride was slow but enjoyable. The two giants rowed slow and steady. Fiddle broke out his infinite bundle of slings and laced them together using a skill he'd learned involving baskets and underwater. Once complete he attached his fishhook. It had been so long since he'd had a chance to fish.

"Don't catch the kraken, Fiddle," Darian laughed.

Fiddle tossed his line in and began to troll... "OD&D is the only true..." he sang, but was interrupted. He got a bite. A big bite... (44 on a survival check.) and fought for a while before pulling in the whopper of a blind cave fish. Bigger and heavier than he. Even the giants were impressed. The giants cooked up the fish and shared the meal with the party. It was a nice respite in an otherwise otherworldly place. When the party was eventually set ashore on the other side of the lake it was almost sad to say goodbye to the giants.

But there was still so much to do and so many unknown dangers. The party pushed on to make camp. Two passages with multiple elven prints were found. The party chose the right passage. It had the most prints. They went to the lake but not back for the most part.


----------



## diaglo

*An old new friend*

The elf tracks were numerous. This put Calrom on edge. They had fled it seemed or left for an invasion. The majority of the tracks went only one way. 

"I am no help now," Grishelm claimed.

So Fiddle and Calrom took the lead with Grishelm close behind on his riding lizard. The party moved cautiously and hid at every new sound. An hour later they were too slow.

"Hello little ones," a voice called.

"Hiya," Fiddle replied. "Show yourself, please."

A drow elf stepped into the light of Fiddle's coin. He didn't seem bothered at all by the light. He had sharper features and even darker, colder looking skin than the other drow the party had fought. The hair on the back of Fiddle's neck stood up. The hin's senses began to tingle and his hand clenched on Lightning Strike.

"Well met," Calrom also said. "Are you alone?"

The figure laughed. "I'll ask the questions. And if you give me something perhaps I'll let you live."

"How about a song?" Alya moved forward a little.

"Yeah, Alya can sing real good," Fiddle kept his eyes on the drow.

"Fiddle," Darian cut in. "Why don't you let Alya or me talk to the elf."

Sully told the drow of the party's search for the faerzress. The drow seemed to be full of all sorts of information. He told the party what lay ahead and off side passages, and where to find the magical rocks. He seemed to be sizing the party up for something. And then it hit Fiddle when the drow ask for some information in return.

"Nightscale, the deep dragon," Fiddle spoke up, "is dead."

The drow took this information in the way Fiddle expected. It approached quickly and stood looming over Fiddle. Its tail began to flick from under its cloak.

"The deep dragon also known as F'knarth," the drow dragon demanded. "And you know who killed her."

"Yes," Fiddle replied, "The Band of the Burning Brand."

"But we avenged her," Sully quickly added. "We killed them."

The Dragon didn't buy it and started to become even more agitated. As Sully started to go into even more of an elaborate tale. Fiddle pulled out his trophy claws. It was a shame Arendella wasn't around. As she was wearing Nightscale. Literally. Fiddle had donated the deep dragon's hide to Arendella to be made into armor.

And combat was joined.


----------



## diaglo

*Son meets Mother again in Hell*

In truth although the Drow Dragon appeared to loom over Fiddle and Calrom, it was a bit away. Alya reacted first and quickly pulled out and consumed a potion. Fiddle giddily charged his enemy. Yet another chance to Kill a Dragon. He buried Lightning Strike deep into the Dragon's side. (crit, sneak attack, favored enemy, etc...). The Dragon felt that. Sully cast several bolts of flame. They struck the Drow in the face (another crit) and washed over it to no effect (failed vs. SR). Calrom too unleashed a volley of arrows. They too stuck into the creature. Darian called on Lathander. A beam of hot light reached out and scarred the drow's side. The Dragon had second thoughts about just what he faced.

"I am Indigo Montoya, You killed my mother," it roared. "Prepare to die." It spit an acidic stream out of its mouth and leapt backwards into the air.

Fiddle jumped aside and raked the Dragon again with Lightning Strike.. (min damage 1+2+4= 7 on an AoO). The Dragon was now just outside of the light of Fiddle's coin.  Grishelm and Calrom weren't so quick or lucky. Vlad moved closer with his axe drawn.

Alya fired his bow. One arrow sailed off into the night. And another. and One arrow hit the dragon.

"Mother," the dragon hissed. "I have failed you."

"NoooooOOOOoooOOo," Fiddle sprinted forward and leapt into the air. The hin and the Dragon struck mid-air. Fiddle continued to drive Lightning Strike into the carcass long after they hit the ground. BUt he was too late. Alya had stolen his kill. ( darn d6... all i needed was to roll a 3 or higher on my AoO attack damage and it would've been mine... but i rolled a 1 on damage.)


----------



## diaglo

*a 3 way*

Darian came over and pulled Fiddle off the Dragon. Alya checked for anything left of value. A greatsword, a set of bracers, and a bandoleer of spell components. It was a good thing the party got the jump on the Dragon.

"Why, oh why," Darian continued to shake Fiddle. "We didn't need to have this fight."

"But there was no way for me to let you know it was a Dragon without..." Fiddle responded. 

"Umm," Grishelm tapped Darian. "Do you have any healing magic?"

Darian set Fiddle down and started to see to Calrom's wounds. Alya helped. And Fiddle broke out his wand to fix up the smurf. When the party was whole again. They set off to make camp and to rest. It had been a long day. And they needed to figure out just how much of what the Dragon had told them they could believe.

According to the Dragon one of the side passages led to a marshy area. And they would be close enough to the faerzress in that mire. Another passage led to an area dominated by winged beasts. And the last tunnel was a direct route to Maerimydra, the drow stronghold. The party decided the Mire was their best option. Even though, they knew it would not be without peril.

The hours went by very slowly as the party tried to prepare for the last step of their journey.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

diaglo said:
			
		

> "I am Indigo Montoya, You killed my mother," it roared. "Prepare to die." It spit an acidic stream out of its mouth and leapt backwards into the air.




The horror.  Sometimes the artistic license taken with table talk is a bit much.  Only one of those three sentences was spoken at the table.


----------



## diaglo

*A Grim Morlock*

D'nd's map had been accurate so far. The Strange Beasts were off to the Southwest, the Marsh to the East, and Maerimydra to the Southeast. Which meant the party had to reach an intersection in the tunnels before heading directly East. The perfect spot for an outpost or trap or some other form of warning for the drow. 

Fiddle thought about this as he led the party forward with Calrom and Grishelm close on his heels.  Fiddle pulled out the light from his coin only. It was still a beacon, but nearly as bright nor projected as the one from his lantern. The passage to the intersection was short. The foot traffic was hard to determine. Many creatures had been this way, some recently. The ceiling was beyond the light. Fiddle watched for trouble from all directions.

There were no guards.  Just a very large Gong and Hammer. Before Fiddle could test his idea about the thing being trapped. Alya hummed a tune of magic. The area went quiet. Fiddle yelled but nothing came out. So he pointed to the East. And mouthed THAT WAY TO THE MARSH. Still no one heard him, but they understood. The party went East.

Almost immediately the new tunnel was more damp and full of fungi, moss, and slithering slugs. This didn't slow the party's progress but it made them cautious of just what might be living here. An hour or so later, the tunnel opened wider and a stream ran thru the break. A small pond formed at the back of the chamber. And fungi were in abundance. Fiddle hurled a stone from his sling into the mess to see if a cloud of spores would be released. He remembered the yellow mold spores he'd inhaled all to well. But this wasn't them. And everything looked okay. Fiddle and Vlad leapt the stream. The other party members mounted or clung to the lizards as they travelled the thinner side of the stream.

Fiddle caught sight of a humanoid tilling the fungi. A fungi gardener. He had no eyes, coarse dark hair, and gray skin. He was larger than Darian and very muscular. Fiddle waved and pointed and then leapt back over the stream. Vlad soon followed suit as the humanoid reacted to the sounds.

"Who goes there?" the thing mumbled and drew a vicious makeshift axe.


----------



## diaglo

*The lesser of 2 weevils*

Fiddle broke out his lantern. Darian quickly spoke up and began negotiations with the thing. Grishelm mentioned it was a Morlock.  A creature of the underdark with a savage nature. But the Morlocks weren't known to be very bright. This one was a slave. And his master, Quthnorak,  was at war with a Sekker. When asked to describe either Quth or Sekker, the Morlock mentioned tentacles on opposite sides.  A Mind flayer came to mind and Fiddle waved fingers under is chin to indicate his opinion.

The Morlock became agitated with the talking. It wanted to know which side the party favored. So it could tell its master if they were new slaves or new enemies. Darian told it he would not be a slave. So the Morlock left to find its master.

The party hurried down the passage to reach the faerzress. Fiddle found another chamber. As he passed the light around. He saw another pool and Two drow females. The party was on the side of Sekker's territory.

"SEKKR," the guards yelled.


----------



## diaglo

*The suspense is killing us...*

Fiddle launched his dagger and hit one of the guards. Darian cast sunlight over the lake blinding the drow. Alya pulled his bow and fired away. The drow cowered under their cloaks and tried to cast darkness. But it failed under the strength of Lathander's might. Sully cast invisibilty on himself and those around him. Calrom used his elf bane bow on the drow.. ouch. Grishelm rode his companion lizard to circle around the lake. Vlad charged into combat with the drow. His swing went wide.

Fiddle advanced around drow to get closer to flank with Vlad. Darian cast another of Lathander's magic. A stream of searing lights struck one drow. Alya fired away. One drow went down. The lights went out. And everyone became visible again. A beam lanced thru the air and burned a hole near fiddle, another one near where Grishelm had been, and one on Vlad. The last drow attacked Fiddle and hit. Sully moved to the Fiddle's light. He had lost contact with Redd.  Calrom fired at the drow, missing multiple times. 

Grishelm yelled, "Eye Tyrant." and rode off. 

Vlad attacked drow. Fiddle flanked with Vlad.. hit 4 times on drow... mush left. Darian advanced to Fiddle's light. Alya fired at the beholder. Beholder shifted the main eye. Fiddle's light went out too. It  fired more beams at Sully and Fiddle. 

_Luce_

Sully tossed a magically lit coin near the beholder. Calrom fired at the Large floating ball. Grishelm was no where around. Vlad charged the beholder.


----------



## diaglo

*Ouch...that hurt*

"No time to think," Fiddle thought    "just do."  So he did what came naturally.

"Hey Sekkr, look the mind flayer is coming," Fiddle screamed in an attempt to get something to look away. Fiddle still didn't know what it was that kept shooting at him with magic. The Beholder didn't flinch...but Fiddle still carried thru with his plan. He ran behind Vlad and tried to hide. "Safe."

Darian stepped to the side nearer Sully. His light returned. He called on Lathander. A ray of holy fire leapt from his hand and struck the Happy Joy Ball. Alya quickly fired another volley of arrows. They bounced off the thick hide of the thing. The Daylight returned. The Beholder drifted away from Vlad and Fiddle its central eye closed. The beams once again fired into the crowd. One hit Calrom. He struggled for a moment and then was free of the effects of the spell. He winked at Fiddle. A scream was again heard in the Grishelm's direction. And Darian too felt pain. By Lathander's great light he was saved from shuffling off this mortal coil. But he still showed the signs of where the beam had struck. All around the party was struck or nearly.

Sully retaliated. A loud crackling ball of power exploded behind the ball. The air stunk of ozone. Calrom followed the display of power with a volley of his own arrows.

"No safe way," Grishelm called from the opposite side of the pool. He was moving again.

Vlad moved back to the ball and swung wild. Fiddle rolled into action too. He and Vlad had the beholder cornered. Darian grinned. He aimed his hand at the closed eye. His aim was true. The ball collapsed. Lathander's magic scorching a hole in the monster.


----------



## diaglo

*Trapped prizes*

Darian and Calrom stripped the guards and placed the useful items in the Bag of Holding. Alya went to work on recovering the eyestalks from the Ball. Vlad covered the entrance. And Fiddle collected his dagger and lantern. Sully called to and hugged Redd close.

After the party recovered Fiddle went to check the hole. One in the floor and One in the ceiling a tube. Obviously carved from the rock with Magic. One of the eyestalks no doubt. Fiddle activated the House Morcane medallion and floated upward. After a brief time he saw a larger cavern. The light from Darian's spell only revealed the area directly around the opening. Statues in grotesque positions. Many broken. All of them real. Another eyestalk Fiddle guessed. Magic like this was known to him personally from the Banewarrens. A few suits of armor and bags of something were just out of reach. Another form loomed in the distance. Hovering. Possibly another Ball. Fiddle sunk back down to the cavern below.

"There's another one," Fiddle whispered. "And a cavern of statues."

"I'll go see," Alya said. "If you'll give me a hand, Sully."

Sully broke out a wand and tapped Alya. The area went silent and then Alya vanished.

"Hurry up, already," Calrom added. "We don't know when the Grimlock or his Master will appear."

"But there's trophies," Fiddle whined.

Alya was gone for a few agonizing moments. Too long for Fiddle so he floated back up and dangled a rope down to the others. He secured it on a statue.  There was a brief flash of light. Fiddle guessed Alya had set off a trap. A gas ball like one they had encountered in the Banewarrens. Things were getting too similar. Images of Hedrack flashed in Fiddle's brain. It had only been a brief meld, but it had left an impression on the hin. Fiddle begged for the Bag. Calrom tossed it up. Fiddle was distracted and let it fall. Darian and Calrom climbed up while Fiddle went to retrieve the bag. The party quickly grabbed what they could.  Calrom jumped out of the way of a pit trap covered by a large tigerskin. Alya flew down and got the rug from the bottom of the spike covered pit. A lucky dodge on Calrom's part there. He also checked out the lower hole. It went North-South. The party fled to the East.


----------



## diaglo

*Candy Gram.. Avon Calling... Land Shark*

After an hour or so, Fiddle broke out his map. He took the lead with Grishelm. The party continued to move at a good pace. Eventually they ran into a fork. Fiddle checked the Map. So they went North. A long trek later, they decided to rest and camp. Calrom and Fiddle setup their magic and bed down. They checked the sacks for loot. The party healed also. Fiddle got a magical throwing axe out of the pile. He named it Ice.

Dreams came to Fiddle in the night. Dreams of an Evil presence. Hedrack. He had plans for the hin. An offer to get his revenge. Kill the haughty priest of Light for leaving him in the Banewarrens with the Evil Suit of Armor Demon Warlord. Steal Vlad's axe to do it. One quick blow and no one would be the wiser. And think of all the things Darian carried. This did not sit well with Fiddle. It seemed all so easy to believe and do. A noise disturbed his slumber. The priest squealing like a little gurl.

WAAAAKKKKEEE UUUUPPP.

Fiddle rolled to a ready position with his blades drawn. A Huge armored creature with sharp teeth and sharp claws  just swallowed Sully in one quick bite. Darian tried as well as he could to smash the creature. Two blows landed solidly. He was pressed against the side of the tunnel. The beast occupied the whole area around the campfire. Vlad charged into battle. Calrom also fired arrows at the thing.  Grishelm moved closer with his kukri in hand.

It turned and grabbed Darian. Holding him briefly in its mouth. Another snack. Darian wriggled free.

"NOOOOOOO," Fiddle screamed aloud and in his mind thought. "You will not spoil my revenge." Fiddle plunged Lightning Strike and hacked with Ice on the creature's tough hide.  Vlad too cut into it with his axe. And then Calrom fired several well placed shots. The Creature bucked, wailed, and collapsed. Grishelm, Fiddle, and Vlad quickly sought to free Sully.

"I'm over here," Sully called and limped forward. He was covered in all kinds of goo.

"What's that stench?" Alya asked when he rolled over awake.

The party healed up again.


----------



## diaglo

*Lost in Space*

After Darian finished his morning prayers, the party set off again. They traveled for a few hours and avoided a tunnel to the West. Another couple hours found them at a turn Westward. And after yet another couple hours, they heard the sound of water lapping a shore. They found a beach and obvious lake, but not where they had come before. Calrom and Fiddle checked the sand. It matched the lake from a couple days ago without a doubt. They had gotten lost. Fiddle got out his map.

"Are there any other lakes in the area," Alya asked Grishelm.

"Like I said before," the smurf seemed frustrated, "I've never been here. But I would guess traveling East, North, and West would lead us back to the Lake of Giants."

"East, North, West," Fiddle thought. "I thought we were going West, South, and then East." He looked again at the map. It was upside down. "Oops, I found out what's wrong," he said aloud.

"You had the map upside down," Grishelm completed. "I am a guide."

After a little bickering and Darian threatening to brain Fiddle with his mace, the party turned around and backtracked. They made it to the Bulette carcass before they had to make camp again. Something had eaten part of the Huge predator. Something with 8 legs and a big maw. It was going the opposite direction from where the party wanted to go, which was good.

"The dracolisk," Fiddle surmised. "We are in its territory."

"Should we seek better ground?" Calrom asked.

"NO," Darian responded. "I can't go another step. Unlike you outdoorsmen, I need to rest. I don't feel like running into something tired or even exhausted."

The watch was very tense. But nothing happened. Perhaps the dracolisk was sated on the Land Shark steaks. The next morning saw the party once again headed to the Underdark Mire. Fiddle checked for new tracks.  Only the party came this way.


----------



## diaglo

*Halves and the halves knots*

"The other tunnel below the main Eye tyrant's cavern ran North-South," Fiddle said. "We can take it South to Maerimydra. I was hoping we wouldn't have to go into the city but as it looks there is no other choice."

Sully confirmed Fiddle's fear. No faerzress here. The party made it back to the cavern without incident. They started to head down the hole when a gruff voice caused them to pause.

"So you have returned," the Grim morlock croaked. "My master will be pleased. He said you would."

"What else did your master say," Darian began.

Sully assumed pixie form. He didn't have a chance to say anything as Alya pulled his bow and prepared to fire. The Grimlock was on the wall about 10ft up with an axe in hand.  Calrom was quicker. He hit the Grimlock on the wall. The Blind monster leapt to the ground and started seething in anger. He charged up to Calrom and attacked. A deep red line appeared in the ranger's side. Darian quickly added more light so the rest of the party could see. The light of Lathander made the place as bright as day. Alya also fired into the creature. Fiddle ran across the way with his bow. Vlad and Grishelm pulled weapons and moved closer to the melee. Sully arched a handful of magic balls into their foe. They hurt, but hardly slowed it.

Calrom backed up and fired again at close range. More pincushions. The Grimlock chopped Calrom in twain. The Half Human body parts fell, while the Half Elven parts stood for a second. There was no saving Calrom. Darian moved around and blasted with his normal hand of holy light. Another of his devastating shots. He was very accurate and deadly with that light. 

"For Calrom," Fiddle cried and fired 2 arrows into the Grimlock. 

"For Him," Vlad replied and fired his handcrossbow.

Sully detonated a ball of electric behind the Grimlock. Before the Grimlock recovered, a wave of crushing power struck. Alya, Grishelm and Darian reeled. Only Darian still moved. The creature crawled forward and sliced the frozen Alya and Grishelm. Alya went down. Grishelm wasn't much better. The other attacker was no where in sight. Darian blasted the Grimlock. It fell. Fiddle dropped his bow, pulled his blades, ran to the other side of the chamber. Vlad caught a glimpse of the other foe just outside the light. He moved closer and pointed. Sully coated the area with magical dust. A mind flayer appeared.

"Give me the Beholder's treasure," a voice inside Fiddle's head said. He looked and saw everyone heard it.

"I'll give you this instead," Darian replied. He hit the thing with his mace. Fiddle was near enough. He struck with Lightning Strike and Ice. Vlad also moved closer and connected.

"Fools," the voice said. "I will get you for this." The mind flayer stepped away and..

Before Sully could react it was gone. The bard still lived. Fiddle quickly healed Alya with his wand.


----------



## diaglo

*Even the dead have a choice*

The party hurriedly loaded the Grimlock and Calrom onto Pony, the pack lizard. Fiddle and Grishelm secured a rope and began the descent to the correct tunnel. They were away South in a flash. Grishelm led. Fiddle tried to cover their tracks. Alya, Darian, and Vlad kept an eye and ear out for trouble. An hour or so later, the party slowed down. They found a side cavern and quickly set up camp. Darian coated Calrom's body in unguents and  salves. He hummed a prayer to Lathander. The body changed form, but no life stirred.

"There is no soul in this shell," Darian said. "I believe he was afraid of what form he would assume. If only I had more time and better spell components. I could've brought Calrom back as Calrom. Lathander now grants me that favor."

The party looted the body and prepped it for burning. Invisible, silent, and flying Alya went to scout the area for possible trouble before they bed down.  A little while later he returned.

"Some drow refugees and an undead horror," Alya reported. "And a little further down is a sundered gate to the city guarded by 4 black skinned powerful Giants. It doesn't look like a good idea to hang out here. I suggest we head to Cormyr."

"Filarni and the Tower of Wit and Woe," Fiddle asked?

"In the morning," Sully said. "I can get us there then. But we don't have much time."

"Four days," Fiddle said. "After that we need to kill another dragon."


----------



## diaglo

*Old stomping grounds...*

Grishelm protested some. But when Alya pointed out that a mind flayer was on their trail and a drow city was ahead of them, the smurf relented and agreed to come with the party.

Sully took Vlad, Fiddle, and Grishelm on the first trip. They arrived just outside the Windlord's Rest in Tilverton. Snow fell all around them. Sully vanished again soon after.

"I've got coins to spend and now a bar to use them..." Vlad started.

"I'm buying the first round," Fiddle interrupted.

Grishelm squinted and followed them inside. The three were soon engaged in heavy drinking games. They invited the whole bar to join them. No sign of Jhaer Brightsong the Harper. Fiddle was only mildly disappointed. Some time later Darian, Alya, and Sully stumbled in from the snow...

No dreams this time.

"Wake up, Fiddle," Darian said. "Sully is getting ready to take us back to the Tower of Wit and Works."

Fiddle stumbled out of bed and joined the others. They trudged to Filarni's Tower. Filarni met them at the door. This struck Fiddle as wrong. Where was the elf? He didn't have to time to contemplate it. Sully, Alya, and Darian were once again involved in a conversation with Filarni. A disguise to get them past the Giants.

"I wanna be an Ogre," Grishelm whispered.

"How about a Bugbear?" Fiddle replied.

The two of them went back and forth about what to become. Eventually it was decided Filarni would make them _Seem_ as undead Drow revenants. And Alya and Darian would be Drow acolytes of the White Banshee. They had 12 hours to get inside the city and place their potion.

Sully returned them to the pack lizards. The party hurried to the gate.


----------



## diaglo

*The Ruined Drow City*

As the party approached the sundered gate to the city, they noticed movement. Four Black skinned, red haired 12 foot dwarven-resembling Giants in helmets and blackened steel plate armor carrying heavy swords and a bag of rocks fanned out in front of the party.

"Lookie what we have here, boys," One of the brutes said in his native tongue. "Kurgoth will be happy."  Only Fiddle registered the language.

"Uhhhhh," Fiddle moaned.

Darian and Alya quickly went to work negotiating passage into the city in Undercommon. It turned out the Giants and the Drow worshipping the White Banshee were enemies. The spider-kissers were dead or gone from the city. Fiddle's hunch about Hedrack and the Quaan started to make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Alya convinced the Giants the party was switching sides. Two of the guards escorted them into the city to meet their leader, Kurgoth.

The party descended a slight slope and entered a fungi forest. Most of it was leveled. Dust and smoke hung heavily in the air. The place was lit by small or even large fires raging in the city. Around some of the fires humanoids danced or cavorted. Flecks of ash and cinder fell from the cavern ceiling too. And occasionally a creature was seen flitting thru the air. Smoke obscured much. And the stench of death and brimstone masked even the unwashed body odor of the Giants. Sully nodded that he could feel the faerzress.

The party fell in close formation. They passed the first in a series of bonfires occupied by a troop of goblins, ogres, and bugbears. They then entered the city proper. The buildings were a mix of rubble and debris. Bodies of drow and goblinoids littered the scene.

"Now," Darian shouted.

The party grabbed hands and vanished under the power of Sully's magic.


----------



## diaglo

*A safehouse in Heck..*

They broke to the right. The old right hand rule. And quickly ducked into an alleyway too small hopefully for the Giants to follow. Alya made the place silent too for safe measure. Behind one building and then another and then into a side street and then out onto the edge of a thoroughfare and then back into another alley after noticing a nearby bonfire. In. Out. Round. Up. Down. Thru. The party ducked and weaved thru the destroyed ruins of Maerimydra. Finally sound returned. They found a building and hunkered down to discuss the next move.

Fiddle pulled out his vial of Fresh Dragon blood while the others chatted. He buried it in the building and marked the wall above.





 Fiddle was here. Domo Arigato.. Mr Roboto.. I'm Fiddle. 

The party decided to cut back thru the fungi forest and seek the high ground. Perhaps the Drow were still there. The party needed to avoid the Giants.  They took off in a scamper and made it to the bottom of a terrace. They were visible again, so Fiddle activated his medallion and went up to see if the coast was clear. It was. Almost. A nice estate burned off to the left 50 yards or so.  Several goblins celebrated just inside the courtyard. Fiddle dropped a rope down to the others. Darian climbed. Soon everyone was up. They headed for a far corner and a set of stairs up to the next terrace. All the estates here were ruined. Drow bodies or heads were mounted on pikes. A tower was off to the left. A streak of black possibly blood ran into the building. The door was gone from its hinges. This would be a good place. But first make sure it was empty.


----------



## diaglo

*The destroyed tower and death*

From the Foyer, the party found two ways. One up and one down. They went down first. What they found was a cellar filled with crates and sacks. Inside were varieties of mushroom flour and spices. Enough food for an army for weeks. Plus the crates came in handy to use as barricades. Darian went back up to the main door and sealed it with a new spell from Lathander. A stone wall. Sully and Alya went up the other stairs after Fiddle checked for traps. The party then settled in for a good thorough search of the place for hidden treasures, doors, and magic.

The Faerzress was corrupt. It had been infiltrated heavily with necromantic magic. Sully came down with a few new potions and a scroll. An alchemical lab topped the tower and afforded a view of the city below. Some large ugly creature was leading a search their way. It was at the terrace.

Fiddle found a trapdoor in the cellar. It was very well hidden. He opened it.

"Who wants to go first?" Fiddle asked of Alya.

"Why, I think," Alya paused. "You do." He shoved Fiddle.

Fiddle caught himself and tumbled clear. He lit his lantern and looked around the tunnel. "All's clear," he shouted back up.

The others descended and Darian closed and latched the door behind. After a little travel they found a body at the base of a ladder. A dagger buried in the back of the cervical curve angled upwards. A young emaciated human girl. Darian checked for life. It was obvious none remained. Dead 3 days. He prepared it for proper burial. Fiddle climbed the ladder. He looked around. They were in an open courtyard. He tumbled out and got his bearings and then returned.

Vlad and Alya meanwhile had found another hidden tunnel. It was trapped. A blade just missed Fiddle as he tried to cross. He and Vlad took turns trying to jam the mechanism. They succeed after a few minutes. The new tunnel descended rather noticeably. And once again it led to a ladder. This one came up in the lower terrace. A building that looked just like a Large Spider, but it was in ruins was just across the way. Fiddle went again to check on things. Nothing. No easy way in from this side. And he didn't want to go to far away from his escape hole. So he returned.

"What now?" Darian asked.

The party argued and finally convinced Grishelm to become a goblin and go spy on one of the campfires. The others settled in and took care of the young girl's body.

When Grishelm returned the round of debates began anew. The drow obviously had the Black Grail. And the Giant army wanted it. Darian pointed out that the Giants were probably the Quaan. He also let slip a little of what he'd learned of the White Banshee while in Tilverton. And about a subplot of intrigue he'd arranged in case of trouble. Four days from now his church would scry the party if they could penetrate the Faerzress.


----------



## diaglo

*Harp the Dire Packrat*

Fiddle got bored. He began to think back on all that had happened recently. His thoughts drifted to Calrom's demise. Which led to him wondering about Mulebone and ... Banjo aka Marmaduke. This made Fiddle sad. Lonely even.

So he reached into his sack and pulled out a wheel of moldy cheese....

A few hours later, Fiddle was rewarded. A rat, larger than he, appeared. With some coaxing it accepted Fiddle's offer of cheese. And then his hand... and his friendship.

"I'll name you, Harp," Fiddle announced.


*Tune in after Sunday to find out about the new adventures of Fiddle and Harp *


----------



## diaglo

*Bull's eye*

Fiddle woke to a boot in his side. Darian headed to wake the others.

"What now?" Fiddle thought. He rolled over and drew his weapons.

Sully mumbled a spell.

Suddenly, Fiddle could see without the aid of light. A squat figure, a miniature giant, approached the camp. It made a clanging sound like metal chains dragging. The torn cloak it wore barely covered. Fiddle disappeared into the shadows and slowly crept around the thing. Everyone else was awake and armed now.

Sully mumbled another spell. "Hello, friend," the gnome said in Undercommon.

"Graunoine, aheud," the small giant replied.

"It's a dwarf," Grishelm hissed.

Fiddle made it behind the thing without much trouble.

"Fiddle?" Vlad screamed. "No"

Sully let slip that he had "made" a friend of the new visitor, Fextor Stoneblood. That was all Fiddle needed to hear. He started unloading the burden inside his Bag and Haversack. Soon the dwarf was outfitted in ton(ne)s of wealth. Nodwick Stoneblood would wear and thus easily carry out of the city much of the party's extra treasure. Alya cleaned the armor for the dwarf... in concentric rings on his chest. Besides this was the stuff the mind flayer wanted from the beholder anyway.


----------



## diaglo

*Scouting Soiree*

"So what do we do now?" Alya asked. "I propose a scouting mission. See if we can test the strengths of our enemies. I mean we have to wait for several more days anyway."

"I'll not be travelling with you," Darian retorted. "I plan to stay right here until this is all over and done with."

"Fine," Fiddle snapped. "You can play with the dead girl. Talk to her, will you?"

"I'll make us look like goblins," Sully cut off the debate.

The rest of the party and the new dwarf, Fextor, took the tunnel to the Spider Temple again. No change from before. They chose the Goblin fortress nearby. Goblin voices and at least one Giant could be heard. A bored patrol, just like Grishelm had said.

An Ogre stuck his head out and saw Bugbear-Vlad, Goblin-Fiddle, Goblin-Grishelm, and Goblin-Alya hanging near the door.

"The relief's here," the beast grunted in Giant over his shoulder.

A nasty, mean spirited goblin called out. "What took you so long?"

Alya quickly regained his composure and talked the patrol into vacating. The party settled into the new fortress unmolested. Alya and Redd stayed in the courtyard while the others went to explore.


----------



## the Jester

Ah, yes, there's nothing quite like sneaking through the middle of a drow-giant conflict.


----------



## diaglo

The inside of the fortress was a shambles. A large bonfire burned in the center of the courtyard. All of the available fuel was on the fire. What bits and scraps of stone and rubble strewn about the place were coated in a black dried smear of what could only be blood. The trail led inside the main structure. Small embers smoldered and reeked of death in the building. Sully cast a spell on the group. They could communicate when within range of the gnome.

In comparison to the other tower the party had come from this estate was probably less opulent in its earlier active days. The carvings, ruined and covered in graffiti now, must of once depicted a more menacing theme of drow dominance. Now they looked ridiculous.

Alya had, thru subtle inquiry from the previous guards, learned  of the dead rising in the Spider Temple or from the surrounding plateau on more than one occassion. This was why the Giant's army didn't like being here.

Fiddle and Vlad checked the building for traps. Magical or mundane. No telling what the drow had left behind for the invaders. And no telling what the Giants had missed. The search led the party up to the top level. Several old expired or tripped magical wards were discovered. No problems there. But Fiddle nearly fell below into the kitchens when part of the floor gave. The fire damage was extensive. Fiddle eventually did find a partially burnt scroll, a prayer or possibly diary, in a private sanctuary or chapel. It begged for Lolth's return. The priestess must have lost favor with her Goddess.

Just then Redd yelped and Alya's voice sang out, "We've got company. The real relief is here with the guys we replaced."


----------



## diaglo

*Plop plop fizz fizz oh what a relief it is*

"Who are you?" the nasty goblin called out. "Who do you work for? Throw down your weapons and come out."

The Ogre and the Bugbears advanced into the courtyard. Redd ran into the building. Alya touched his forehead and appeared in the midst of the party. Sully already in pixie form called out a new word of magic. The party's actions seemed to increase while those outside of the area seemed slower. The rest of the party scrambled to find a defensible place to face the enemy. Grishelm exchanged missile fire with some of the goblins below. .

The nasty goblin whispered something to his troops. The Ogre and Bugbears entered the building. The Ogre visibly seethed with anger. Alya swore an oath and pelted the Giant with arrows. Vlad also fired a volley.

"Aaaaayyyy, ayyyy, ayyyy," Fiddle ran and leapt from the balcony of the top floor with Lightning Strike in front of him. He struck the Ogre from above. "Death from above." Fiddle continued to harry the Hulk.

Fextor also moved forward to block the stairway. Several Bugbears approached the dwarf. While the Ogre grabbed Fiddle and flung him to the floor. Sully saved Fiddle the fall with the use of magic. He followed this up with a blast of electricity. Some of the Bugbears went down. The dwarf and the Bugbear on the stair exchanged attempts to dislodge one another from the stairs. Grishelm and the goblins below continued to fire arrows and bolts.

A wall of howling wind appeared at the top of the stairs and all along the balcony. The nasty goblin had a few tricks of magic up its sleeves too. Alya sang out words of encouragement. Vlad pushed his way thru the wall. Fiddle rolled forward and struck the Ogre from below. Fextor hacked into the Ogre from above. It toppled. The Bugbear and the Nasty Goblin fled. The Bugbear on foot. And the Goblin in the air. Sully had already left the building. He fired off some of his magic into the Goblin. The Goblin’s magic failed and he plummeted. Grishelm added injury to insult.

Alya moved to the windows and finished the goblin. Vlad gave chase after the Bugbear. Fiddle began to collect his trophies. Sully also went after the Bugbear.

“I don’t suppose you have a better weapon?” Fextor asked Fiddle. “I like this axe, but against these brutes I need something with more blade.”

Fiddle dug into the bag and handed the dwarf the Half-Dragon’s blade. While Vlad and Sully were gone the party sorted themselves out.


----------



## diaglo

*Bonfire of the vanities*

"Troubles on the way," Sully said for all to still hear. "The Bugbear made it safely to a bonfire. I count at least 3 more Ogres and an assortment of Bugbears and goblins too. Vlad is somewhere behind me."

A few tense moments passed as Fiddle and the others moved to the gate.. Fextor-Hobgoblin stood in the entryway for all to see. Fiddle ducked into the shadows.  Sully quickened everyone's pace with some magic. Alya sang a tune and focused the magic into one of his arrows. When the Ogres came in range he let fly.

Pixie-Goblin-Sully called on his own magic again. A ball of electricity exploded around the Ogres. They charged the gate. One without a weapon and in plain fear of something. Smaller figures closed in from the smoke and haze of the plateau from behind the Ogres. Bugbears and goblins. Grishelm, Alya, and probably Vlad-Bugbear, although no one could see him, fired a volley of missiles at the group. The goblins returned fire at Fextor.

The Ogres came in close. Fextor leapt at one of them in an attempt to climb up the things torso. He failed miserably and took a beating for it. He still managed to bring his sword around to return a blow. Fiddle hung back waiting for the Ogres to duck under the mantle and thru the gate. Alya cured the dwarf of some of his injuries. Grishelm fired away with his bow.

Sully laid down another ball of lightning, one of the Ogres fell. The other Ogre continued to run. The Bugbears closed into the fray with Fextor. Fiddle still hung back. Someone or something would soon taste Lightning Strike in their back. Fextor and the Bugbears exchanged blows. The dwarf swooned, but did not fall. Grishelm and Fiddle moved to take his place. They struck down one of the Bugbears. Alya made Fiddle disappear. Still the Ogre swung into the area. Fiddle wasn't fast enough to avoid the fore swing; however, he was carried clear of the backswing. Ouch. Vlad appeared at the edge of the battle with bow in hand. He fired into the melee. Another Bugbear fell.

Sully fired off some more of his magic. This time at a trio of goblin archers. They went up in flames. Fiddle tumbled between the Ogre's legs. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, ... Stick jab, slice. Fiddle made short work of the Ogre. It fell.

The last Bugbear ran back the way it had come. Vlad and Fiddle gave chase. At the same time Sully went after the last Ogre. He didn't have to go far. His flaming bolts tore the Ogre down. Fiddle ran up to, stabbed, and passed the Bugbear cutting him off at the stairs down to the city proper.

"You are mine," Fiddle cackled.

"Bring it," the Bugbear hissed . It drew a line in the sand and gestured for Fiddle to come closer.

Thump, Thump

Two arrows sprouted from the Bugbear's chest from behind.

"What took you so long?" Fiddle asked as Vlad appeared.

Vlad just smiled and shrugged.


----------



## diaglo

*The Mind Flayer exacts his revenge*

The party gathered back at the fortress. They decided they had done enough scouting and headed back to the tunnel. The trip back to the Tower was spent healing Fextor. The magic flowed into bringing the dwarf back to fighting prowess.  Even Fiddle's wands got some use.

As Fiddle made his way into the basement and up thru the hatch,  the hairs on the back of his head stood on end. Something was wrong. A quick look confirmed it. Darian and the dead girl were gone. Signs of a scuffle and the absence of an escape made Fiddle suspect magic. As if on cue a voice registered in the back of Fiddle's mind.

"I have your friend," the voice warned. "If you wish to see him again, bring me the Beholder's treasure to the Prison of Manzessine"

Fiddle looked around to see if anyone else had heard the voice. His first thoughts were of the mind flayer.

Vlad spoke up, "The mind flayer's got Darian."

"Curses foiled again," Fiddle thought to himself. "I won't get my revenge, but at least it serves him right. I hope they feast on his brain."

Debate once again took hold in the midst of the party. Should they rescue Darian. Should they continue scouting. Should they flee the city. Should they sit tight.

Eventually, Alya's sound reasoning won out. The bodies they left behind of the goblins, bugbears, and Ogres needed to be destroyed before the necromantic powers of the area brought them back to unlife. They would deal with the rest of the scenarios when that task was accomplished.

So with little magic and no cleric, the party once again headed back to the tunnel and the Spider Temple.

The trip was almost without incident. But as the party approached the fortress, some unsavory types were busy eating the dead.


----------



## diaglo

*Gruesome undeath*

"Hmmmmm, Brains," a deep voice called in Giant from inside the courtyard.

Sully made the party vanish. And one by one the party reappeared as they unleashed a barrage of arrows at the unholy humanoids. The ghoulish things ripped into the dead goblin's corpses. Vlad, Grishelm and Fiddle all let loose with their bows. Fextor charged to the courtyard only to find an Unliving Giant. Alya right behind him. The bard used a small trick behind the Giant. The Zombie slowly ambled towards the dwarf ignoring Alya's last magic.

Sully took to the air. An explosion of magic shook the courtyard. But the Zombie still stood.

"Brains," the Giant continued to mumble.

The ghouls ran for the fresh living bodies. Alya, Grishelm, Fiddle, and Vlad met them. One, two, three, ... and it only left the Giant.

Fextor didn't fare as well with the thing. They exchanged blows. And the dwarf bled anew.

Sully let his last bit of magic go. The Giant toppled.

Quickly the party set about burning all the bodies. The larger corpses were cut up into manageable pieces to carry to the flame. The Bugbear on the stair down to the plateau had been almost completely consumed by the ghouls. It took a few minutes, but the party was very efficient. They were once again down the tunnel.

The party planned again. This time they came to a quick decision. Rest, regain spells, leave the city under disguise, and then flee to Ashabenford by way of Sully's magic.

Erik in Ashabenford might be able to shed some light on the mind flayer's prison.


----------



## diaglo

*A good plan gone crazy*

But when was anything ever easy. The party held hands as Sully made them disappear from view. And Alya made the party _silent_. Still it took them a few breathtaking moments to make it thru the gate and back into the tunnels. They were free of the Dead Drow City. They hurried along before Alya's spell failed.

Something or someone gave chase. The noise of angry Giant voices and the echo of footsteps rang out. The party quickened their pace.

The pursuit gained on them. For a couple hours things were touch and go. Finally, they could go no further. Exhaustion ruled. Fight or flight.

Fiddle handed his Haversack to Fextor. Alya, Harp, and Fiddle climbed into the bag. And Sully transported them to safety. Ashanbenford.

Grishelm, Vlad, Alya, Fiddle, the lizards, Harp, and Redd waited just outside the White Hart. A group of inn patrons rushed out with bows. The party still looked like goblinoids.

Oops.

A couple moments later, Fextor and Sully reappeared. The dwarf had a new bruise. *Some action occurred back in the tunnel. I'll let JoeBlank or howandwhy99 tell you about it.*


----------



## howandwhy99

I think you are referring to Fextor's tactical maneuvers of climbing the tunnel ceiling to be out of reach of the approaching displacer beasts.  Once he was upside down holding the saddle he realized the ceiling was only 10' high and that put his head within reach of attack.  

Sully then ported back in right below Fextor's head and noticed the beasts were almost on them.  Still in goblin seeming form and not flying pixie, Sully managed to jump up to reach Fextor's hand in time.  This completed the spell to teleport he, Fextor and the last riding lizard to Ashabenford.

Fextor's bruises come from fact that teleporting meant the half ton lizard was no longer hanging from a ceiling.  Splat.


----------



## diaglo

*Which way should we go*

Sully dismissed his magic. And the party faced the townspeople as themselves once again.

"Hold your fire," Fiddle smiled. "It's us. The Stormslayers."

"The same crew that slew the Band of the Burning Brand?" a guardsman asked.

"No," Fiddle replied. "I slew the dragon that did that. The dragon was after them for invading its home in the Thunder Peaks."

Sully quickly jumped in before Fiddle got too out of hand. Eventually, the party was able to convince the Dalesmen they meant no harm and had done none. They entered the White Hart Inn and talked with Erik long into the night over ale. Randal Morn was feared dead. Daggerford had been attacked. Although, the party couldn't figure out if it was the Ogre attack they had witnessed or another one. And so much more was going on. Many of the men were getting ready to go to the front to fight. The Riders of Mistledale were already away.

The party also had a ton(ne) of things to sell. The first order of business, however, was to invite Fextor to join the charter.


----------



## howandwhy99

diaglo said:
			
		

> The party also had a ton(ne) of things to sell. The first order of business, however, was to invite Fextor to join the charter.




This would be despite his foolish behavior.
(not because of it)


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

A bump for upcoming events ... next session on/about 13 March.

Will the Stormslayers have the guts to descend into the bowels of a foul mindflayer prison to rescue their companion?  Or will they return to the drow city to recover the dragon's blood and find out what lies beneath the surface of events?  Do the prophetic writings mean anything, or are they just the ramblings of a Svirfneblin madman?  Where is Hedrack in all of this?  Or the mad dwarven archmage Finister?
Will the mindflayer make another appearance?

Or will they just chuck it all and go dragon hunting?

Snow is falling in Ashabenford.  Winter has yet to release its grip on the Dales.  Are the howls of wolves from across the moors a portent of things to come?  Tune in in two weeks ...


----------



## the Jester

Ahhh, I remember this group when it was, what, _4th level!_  

(Anyone seen Pepto lately? )


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Current Clack

Inn of the White Hart, 25 Alturiak 1374

1.  In the deep winter snows, white wolves and white bears that walk on two legs have been spotted roaming farmland northeast of Ashabenford.
2.  Some young fools made another attempt to recover the bandit’s treasure in Haresk’s Pool.  They broke through the ice and left a great mess, but were not found.
3.  The gathered forces of the Dales marched north from Daggerdale and waylaid a Zhentarim force.  They are returning in victory.
4.   A militia patrol found an old keep in the forest northeast of Peldan’s Helm.  It was haunted by strange fire and voices, so they did not investigate.
5.   A band of adventurers led by a halfling named Pepto claimed to have found a portal at Galath’s Roost.  They went to investigate, but did not return.
6.  Noristour the Mage has been exceedingly grumpy of late – something about spells misfiring.
7.  Undead creatures from the Barrowdowns have been roaming far afield.
8.  Daggerdale was sacked by a dark elf raid from out of the forest.  Randal Morn has gone missing and is presumed dead.
9.  A man with an odd accent stayed at the Inn a tenday back.  He asked about ruins in the Barrowdowns, and departed away to the south.  
10.  The Riders were destroyed by the Zhents in a battle near Yulash.  The Dales lie unprotected to Zhentarim invasion.
11.  A logging concern in Archendale has had to quit business – many of their folk have gone missing.
12.  Grain in the granaries at the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf was found rotted, but the priests have covered it up.
13.  Strangers paid a visit in the dead of night to Jarwain’s Imports, bearing oddly shaped bundles.
14.  A long-lost adventurer, Erik by name, is staying at the Inn.  He was held prisoner for a year in the dungeons of strange tentacled beasts deep underground.
15.  The Stormslayers have retuned bearing wealth and riches from yet another dragon’s hoard!  They are accompanied by a strange creature who knows the location of a Great Wyrm’s treasure!


----------



## the Jester

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> Current Clack
> 5.   A band of adventurers led by a halfling named Pepto claimed to have found a portal at Galath’s Roost.  They went to investigate, but did not return.




Hurray, she's got a party!


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

the Jester said:
			
		

> Hurray, she's got a party!




And either took the Leadership feat, or several levels in Bard.  Or maybe her acne finally cleared up.


----------



## the Jester

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> Or maybe her acne finally cleared up.




Hmmm... only if 3 years or so passed in game!


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

And so they're off to the illithid prison today.  Will they survive?

*shakes magic 8-ball*

_My sources say no._


----------



## diaglo

*One stop shopping*

Grishelm was soon deep into his cups. Erik spoke of the troubles and dangers in the mind flayer prison, The Spiral of Manzessine. Erik had not seen much of the Prison that he could remember well. However, he did draw a rough map of the tunnels outside. Who knew what dark criminals mind flayers would keep and why. But this was the place the voice told Vlad and Fiddle, Darian could be found. Fiddle said this had trap written all over it. Sully, Alya, and Fextor didn't care. And Fiddle did agree Darian owed Grishelm and his community. And no one else could provide what Grishelm needed. A basket of replentiful food and a jug of neverending water.

So the party made plans. First stop would be around Ashabenford in the deep snow in the dead of night. Heresk Malorn's house to inform the Councilman of the drow threat. Heresk wasn't happy. The party had abandoned Dumic according to his way of thinking. Fextor tried to get him to talk about the defense of the Dale. The Riders were away. And with the snow there wasn't much news coming or going. Rumors were everywhere.

And then to Noristar's Emporium to buy, sell, or trade goods of magic. Things went well for the party. They ran into an old friend, Spugnoir. Conjuration magic was not working right. Sully got a bag of Giant Slugs and 3 potions for the cost of the scroll from Filani.

And then back to the White Hart. In the morning, Sully transported the party to Glen. Fiddle and Fextor set off to buy, sell, trade, and carry on. Fiddle bought the town out of all the alcohol and wanton women. Slightly over 1000gp on his tab at the bar. He managed to pick up his lucky dagger, Sliver, somewhere in the process of pubcrawling. Pepto and her party of adventurers had come and gone to Galath's Roost. Four gems were needed to activate a portal. They hadn't returned since the last trip.

The next morning, Sully delivered the party outside the Rose Altar in Tilverton. There was much to do in Tilverton. First things first.

BANG, BANG, BANG

Fiddle pounded on the door. An acolyte opened it.

"It was unlocked," he chided.


----------



## diaglo

*The truth revealed*

"Do you wish to make offering to the church?" the acolyte blocked the door.

"No, we wish to have words with the head of your order concerning one of your priests," Fiddle muscled the puny human aside.

"Fiddle??!?" Alya raised voice rang out.  "What my friend is trying to say is we have news for the Father."

"And whom should I say is calling?" the acolyte blustered.

"The Stormslayers," Sully moseyed inside too. "Do you know Darian Dawnguard?"

"The Morninglord, no, not personally," the acolyte answered. "But I wish to one day follow in his footsteps."

"You'd better wear high boots then," Fiddle quipped. "As you will be stepping in a whole bunch of cow patties."

The acolyte left the party to find the High Priest at the back of the church behind a partition.  A few minutes later, the acolyte and another man returned. The acolyte pointed to the party and went back to his morning prayers. A tall, dark haired fellow approached.

"How may I help you?" the priest spoke.

"We should do this in private," Vlad whispered.

"Great a private meeting with a priest in his quarters. What would ever come of that?" Fiddle smirked.

"Fiddle," Alya screeched. "Let someone else with more character handle this."

The party met the priest behind closed doors. They told him about Darian's predicament. They asked if the church could find out if Darian still lived. And if he wished to be rescued. And if not rescued if he wished to die instead of be a slave. And started to ask for help with Grishelm. But never made it. The priest wanted to find out the party's intentions. What they knew. Why they cared. He cast a spell.

"You may only speak the truth in my presence," the priest stated. "Are you intent on harm to Darian Dawnguard?"

"YES, I AM," Fiddle yelled loud and clear.


----------



## diaglo

*Wuv Twoo Wuv*

Alya screamed at Fiddle, "Shut Up before things get too out of control."

The two halflings bickered. Vlad grabbed them both by the scruff of their collars and started to take them outside.  Sully got things back on track going into detail about the Black Grail and the Sword of Truth. The High Priest seemed interested. Alya and Fiddle settled down.

The High Priest would perform a divination on Darian to determine the truth of his imprisonment. He wasn't ready to do it yet and told the party to return in the evening. Sully suggested visiting Filani next.

The elderly elf doorman met the party with his usually "oh you again." Fiddle liked to cheer the fellow up. Filani was available. Sully talked about his potion and the corrupted faerzress. He also brought up the Black Grail. An idea struck Fiddle. Fill the Black Grail with the Kiss of Life and give it to the White Banshee to drink. Sully smiled and just nodded at Fiddle. Filani had a scroll to help find Darian. It would lead the party right to him. But it wasn't cheap.

So, Fiddle left for the market. He had things to sell. He also stopped in on Tristam. A secret mission for the church of Brandobaris. He accepted without a second thought. Deliver a crown, a scepter, and a suit of mail to Mouse. It would place him in Peldan's Helm. He needed to clear his name there anyway.  And he could catch up with Eliar.

He found the party back at the Windlord's Rest. He handed each of the members their fair share of the booty. They left for Filani's place to purchase the scroll. From there they went back to the Rose Altar.

The High Priest told them he believed Darian was still alive. The divination showed a small cell. He offered 4 warriors of light or a priest and his guard as additional aid in the rescue. Valgrim was the priest. It had been many months since the party last spoke to the young priest. He did not look the same.

"A mayth," Valgrim lithp. "I wath adwenturing when a hobgolthin hith me in the fathe with a mayth. I loth twee teeff."


----------



## diaglo

*Our Good name*

Fiddle made a stop at the Temple of Gond. He bought a strange new weapon for throwing flasks. A gnome calculus. He also bought holy water, acid, and the chemical fire. All they had.

Fiddle remembered Fextor's curiosity about the defense of the Dales and the pact with the elves. He suggested Sully take them to Peldan's Helm to speak with Eliar. Vlad begged off.

Sully, Fiddle, Alya, and Fextor arrived just outside Eliar's door in the Inner Bailey of Peldan's Helm. They were quickly surrounded by armed guards.

"Hiya," Fiddle chirped. "Is Eliar home?"

The elf popped out to see about all the commotion. "You should not be here. You are accused of many horrible things. Not the least of which is theft and murder."

"Who us?" Sully exclaimed. "Who would make these accusations and why?"

Not the welcome the party expected. Well Fiddle did, but he knew it wouldn't come to a bad end. The Band of the Burning Brand. Himool and Company had darkened the party's name in Peldan's Helm. Before they betrayed the party to Nightscale, Himool slandered the Stormslayers. A guard went to fetch Father Abercrombie. The priest of Tyr arrived soon afterwards.

"Will you submit to Tyr's judgement?" Father Abercrombie asked.

"Sure," Fiddle smiled. "We have nothing to hide."

The priest mumbled a prayer. Another spell of truth. The magic washed over them without taking hold. Sully and Fiddle both told the truth as they knew it. Or at least the truth they were willing to admit. Alya and Fextor stood by and nodded. The party avenged the Band of the Burning Brand by slaying the Dragon, Nightscale, after it killed them. 

"It seems we owe you an apology," Eliar broke the silence. "Next time don't pop in here. Come thru the gate."

The party talked about rumors. About the defense of the Dale. About the elves and the drow. And the war in the ruins of Maerimydra. About a Dragon.. Dragon did you say? Venom the great green Wyrm in the Vale of Lost Voices. About the elven temple. Afterwards, Fiddle visited Mouse.

He was to take the package to Jarwain's Import Export Business in Ashabenford. No problemo. Fextor and Sully were planning on using a scroll to read Erik's mind to find a good place to arrive near the Spiral of Manzessine. Ashabenford was the party's next stop. Sully deposited them at the White Hart. Grishelm gave no response. Erik just shrugged. Fiddle stopped in on Jarwain. They exchanged goods. Fiddle now possessed two egg sized emeralds.

Sully went back for Valgrim, Vlad, and Valorean.. the bodyguard.


----------



## diaglo

*Cave In*

"To thwa pwisun," Valgrim announced. "We muth fwee Daweean."

Fiddle chuckled. Even the voices in his head started to lisp.

"Anon," Sully said. "After I have rested and regained my magic."

"I think we should talk strategy," Fextor piped up. "We know there will be trouble with the mind flayers. What else are we to expect?"

"Golums," Erik noted. "I seem to remember the guards outside the main gate were golems."

"I have a magic ring," Fiddle added.

The party haggled over what spells to cast ahead of time. Who should be in the first group. What to do and where to meet. And much more. Fiddle gave Erik some more coins to help pay for his and Grishelm's fun. When all was said an done. Sully cast many spells; Darkvision for the group, Invisibility Sphere, and Fiddle cast Longstrider on himself. And Valgrim buffed up Valorean strength and muscles.  Finally Sully teleported Fiddle, Fextor, and Vlad in the first trip.

For a few seconds everyone was disoriented. They stood deathly quiet. When their senses returned they were in a tunnel. Many hobgoblins, drow, and gray dwarves worked on the stone while 2 squidmen stood nearby watching. Sully mumbled his spell again to return to get the others.

The squidmen turned at the sound of the gnomes voice.

_Show yourselves. We know you are there._

Fextor strained. Fiddle dumped Harp out of his bag. Harp ran down the tunnel away from the miner slaves. Vlad charged the nearest mind flayer. He appeared 10 ft after he left Fextor’s side. The battle was joined. The slaves ran after Harp. Both squidmen turned their attention on Vlad. A wave of crushing magic washed over Fiddle and Fextor. Vlad did not fare so well. He dropped his axe and stood stock still. Fextor ran to his aid. He pounded a hobgoblin into paste with his sword. Fiddle called for Harp. The invisibility was gone with the dwarf. So he ran up and stabbed the mind flayer. More slaves ran thru the tunnel. Two more died to Fextor and Fiddle’s blades. And two more squidmen followed them. One squid attacked Vlad with its tentacles. The other blasted at Fiddle and Fextor. Fiddle shook it off. Fextor didn’t. Nor did Harp. One on 4 Fiddle didn’t like the odds.

Sully and company arrived. Fiddle moved on Vlad’s foe. He sliced and diced the squid in all the vital spots. It fell over dead. The other one blasted Fiddle again. This time Fiddle couldn’t protect himself. He dropped his weapons. One of the other two blasted the slaves and new arrivals. The last one tried to grab Fextor by the skull.

Now it was Alya’s turn to face the squidmen alone. He called on his bow and swore an oath _Death to my enemies _ in elven. The bard unleashed 3 pinpoint shots. Now there were only 2 mind flayers. Valorean charged into the melee. The mind flayers tried a different tactic. The magic wasted on the valiant bodyguard. He hacked away at the near one defending Fextor and Fiddle from harm. The only unaffected slave, a drow female, got away.

Alya rained another volley of arrows into the mind flayers.  These were not so charged with magic nor curses.  The mind flayers blasted Alya and tried again to sway the bodyguard to their side. Alya froze. Valorean meted out more justice with his blade. Vlad snapped out it. He stabbed  the most injured mind flayer in the eye with his rapidly drawn rapier. Now there was only one. 

It stepped back and vanished.


----------



## diaglo

*Knock, knock, who's there*

"Which way to the prison?" Fextor screamed in the face of a hobgoblin.

The brute cowered and pointed down a side tunnel. The party decided on stealth. Fiddle drank one of his potions. His shadow increased and his body seemed to vanish. He scouted ahead. Vlad followed next. And then the rest of the party. The slaves; 10 in total left here, one female drow had escaped, and 4 lay dead from Fiddle and Fextor's handy work, were left to their own devices. They blithered endlessly about their masters.

A half mile or so later, Fiddle entered a cavern. It resembled Erik's map. A green gas filled a chasm. It swirled just below a narrow bridge. Two large stalagmites and an iron portcullis marked the entrance to the prison. To either side of the gate stood two massive misshapen giants, flesh golems. They were fashioned from an assortment of mind flayer, drow, and probably hobgoblin body parts. Neither moved.

Fiddle crossed the bridge. At the halfway point a voice spoke to him inside his head.

"Come no further," it thought. "You are not welcome here surface dweller. Go back now. We eat your kind."

"I've come to purchase freedom for an acquaintance," Fiddle replied in Undercommon. "I have much wealth."

"Mwwwhuuuahhhh," the voice laughed. "Puny mortal. You have little we need. Go back now."

"Okay," Fiddle chipperly sang. "I don't want him anyway. But there was no harm in asking."

Fiddle went back to the others and told them Darian was doomed. No one believed him. So Fiddle told them about the cavern, the gas, the golems, and the voice. The party buffed up again on magic. And it was Alya's turn to negotiate Darian's release.

The little bard tried and tried or so everyone guessed as the conversation was all in his head. He moved forward just to the edge of everyone's vision. The party prepared their weapons and spells. A few tense moments passed. And then...


WHHHAAAAA WHHHAAAA WHAAAA


----------



## the Jester

Nothing like some squidmen!!1!


----------



## diaglo

*The way in.. No way out*

The Gate closed.  WHAAA WHAAA WHAAA. The noise continued. Shriekers Fiddle thought. They must be over by the Gate.

Alya ran back to the party, "There is another mind flayer and a metal construct with it just inside the portcullis." He sang to inspire the party to be more courageous.

Pixie Sully commanded his magic. The air around the party quickened and then so did everyone's actions. Fextor and Vlad fired their bows in rapid succession at the guards. The Two fleshy things moved onto the bridge. They lumbered towards the party. Fiddle unloaded his gnome contraption on the lead Gollum. Splash, Splash, Splash, Splash. The chemicals ignited with the air. Valorean and Valgrim moved into position to guard the front of the ranks. Valgrim called on Lathander's grace to bless the party.

Alya sang a tune. An area of grease covered the bridge. One Gollum went down. It struggled to rise again. Sully invoked his magic. The air behind the Gollums sparked. The arrows pushed out of their hides. Their wounds healed.

"Fire and cold," Alya yelled. "It is the only magic that will work against these things."

Fextor and Vlad riddled them with another volley of arrows. The combined damage from Fiddle, Vlad, and Fextor was enough. One Gollum collapsed and fell off the bridge into the green mist and the chasm below. Alya and Fiddle went quiet. Fiddle put away his calculus and drew his blades. The remaining Gollum stood and exchanged blows with Valorean and Valgrim. It too collapsed.

Alya pulled his bow and scanned the opposite side of the chasm. Sully dispelled the force on Alya. Noise returned. Sully shook off a spell. Fiddle saw movement from a slit about 20ft up on the far side stalagmite. .Fextor drew his guisarme. He pushed the other Gollum off the bridge to follow its fellow guard. Vlad waited. Fiddle with his new found Sully magic sprinted thru the grease, over the bridge, and under the stalagmite. He threw Sliver into the squidman's head. The silver dwarven powered dagger proved accurate. Valgrim tried to follow Fiddle but ended up in the grease. Vlad peppered all around the arrow slit. Alya moved into better position and fired. Valorean hung back not trusting the grease.

Sully lit the air up with another ball of lightning.  The squidman withdrew from the arrow slit. Fextor joined Valgrim in the grease. Fiddle rose in the air using his drow clasp. He stabbed with Lightning Strike. Not quite as hurtful but it still drew blood. Vlad leapt the grease and approached the gate. Valgrim rose and crossed the bridge. Alya dismissed his spell. He closed the distance too.  Valorean on his heels.

Sully flew to the other stalagmite. The mind flayer blasted Fiddle. The hin hung limp. His weapons clanged to the ground below. The squid fled. Fextor climbed the stalagmite and grabbed Fiddle's ankles they sank back to solid ground. Vlad waited for signs of the mind flayer. Valgrim bashed at a shrieker. Valorean helped him. Alya began to sing words of encourgement anew. 

Sully crawled thru the arrow slit and down the back into the prison. He spied the mind flayer and unleashed another ball of lightning. The mind flayer ran. Vlad peppered the area. It was too late the thing vanished. Valgrim and Valorean ended the other shrieker.

Fiddle snapped back to normal. He grabbed his weapons and leapt back into the air, thru the air slit, and down the back. He joined Sully by a crank mechanism. They both tried it. Fiddle wasted his energy. While Sully easily rolled up the portcullis.

Fiddle broke it off so the way out was open.


----------



## diaglo

*The spiral staircase*

The path ahead reached a T formation. To the left the party heard flesh pounding on a locked door. To the right another door with a strange locking mechanism. There was debate about what to do if Fiddle unlocked it. In the end, the party gathered together. Fiddle unlocked and opened the door. Another door ath the far end of a hall. Halfway down the hall was flanked by two large red curtains.

"The scroll," Alya handed it to Valgrim. "Read this and lead us to Darian."

"I haff anotha uthful thpell," Valgrim said. "One so thumone can theee better."

"Pick me, Pick me," Fiddle jumped up and down.

Valgrim cast his spell and then read the scroll.

"That way," Valgrim pointed at the far door. "We muth huhwee."

Fiddle ran to the far door and attacked the lock with his picks. He had it open and the party found a stairway spiralling downward. Fiddle's new sight let him see the bottom 100 ft below.

"The Spiral of Manzessine," Alya whispered.

"I can get us down sooner without all this walking," Sully noted. "Just jump over the edge."

"Geronimo," Fiddle leapt without a second thought. "Hit me Sully."

Sully reacted in time to save the hin with his feather magic. He and the others followed and floated down.

SNAP, SNAP, SNAP, SNAP, SNAP, SNAP....

An 11 headed hydra took a chunk out of the party's hide as they went by its cave. Only Fextor escaped injury. Valgrim took a nasty bite. Fiddle, Alya, and Valgrim healed the party.

Across the way stood another door. Fiddle picked it.


----------



## diaglo

*into the prison... something's up*

What greeted the party was a strange sight. Two mind flayers locked in a mortal battle. Neither survived. One was covered in tattoos. Beyond another door. Fiddle scanned for trouble in this and the other planes. Nothing. He crossed the floor and stabbed the combatants just to be sure. Fextor chopped their heads off. The others followed.

Fiddle examined the door for traps.

THUMP...

*Frozen in time and space until next session*


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

I should create a poll to allow our faithful reader(s?) to pick what falls on Fiddle's head.

I'm voting for Darian's Mace of Disruption, personally.


----------



## diaglo

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> I should create a poll to allow our faithful reader(s?) to pick what falls on Fiddle's head.
> 
> I'm voting for Darian's Mace of Disruption, personally.




sweet, but since you wouldn't let me take monkeyboy. it is outside my character concept now.


i was hoping for the head of vecna.


----------



## diaglo

*What's behind door #1*

Calculated thoughts rushed thru Fiddle’s mind. What would the squid men keep in a prison? How would they do it? Magic, traps, ways to surpress the prisoners, poisons, curses, drugs, diseases, parasites, monsters. So far Fiddle had not been far off the mark.

The golems used as guards at the front gate made perfect sense. Fashioned, he was sure, from the remains of former prisoners. The alarm was the curious oddity. It seemed to come from within, but not because of anything the party had done. It was something more. Now the two bodies helped. One body in rags, a prisoner, the other its guard. Forever, locked in a final embrace. A prison riot or breakout. So what other things would the alarm cause. Sealed doors, locks, traps? Fiddle approached the door even more cautiously than normal. He scanned it for the trap.

Thump, thump, thump

It came from on high. A heavy foot glanced him in his side. He rolled to the left and stabbed at the thing. One, two, three, four, five, six... The flesh mass collapsed. Another golem guard. Two others fell amongst the party. Fextor, Vlad, and Alya went to work on them. Sully highlighted the guards faces with his magic. It blinded them. Valgrim and Valorean assisted the others to bring the guards down. Alya was injured. And so was Valorean. Fextor’s axe laid the last guard out.

Fiddle and Alya healed themselves and the others. Valgrim insisted the way was still far ahead behind the door. It was locked. So Vlad checked and then picked it.


----------



## diaglo

*Creepy crawly*

While Fiddle watched Vlad's handiwork, he forgot to warn the others about possible boobytraps left on the dead and the guards.

"OOooo," Valgrim squealed. "Get it off."

The priest of Lathander touched the mind flayer prisoner's body. A tattoo crawled up his arm.

"I've got me axe," Fextor replied. "I could cut it off fer ya."

The priest declined. Fiddle decided to look more carefully for traps next time.

The party filed thru the door. A crosscorridor. Valgrim pointed to a set of stairs going down. Another lead up. Another lead off on level ground. And a set went to a ladder on the East side of the way. The others followed Valgrim and Vlad. Fiddle hung back and looked for tracks. He placed some caltrops below the ladder just in case the trackmaker decided to follow them. He then hurried to catch up.


----------



## fett527

OK, 18 pages.  This is gonna take awhile.  I'll post when I'm to date!

(Dn't forget to chime in on our thread Diaglo!)


----------



## diaglo

*Deadly gaze*

"Nooooooo," Vlad sputtered and appeared again from around the corner. "It tried to rip my soul out with its eyes."

Valgrim and Valorean were already engaged in melee with the enemy. Fextor charged around the corner.

"What are you fighting?" Alya hollered. He pulled his bow and peeked.  "NNNnnnnnoooo... don't look at them."

"Ghouls," Valgrim responded. "Vicious ghouls." He summoned Lathander's might and lit the hallway with a blinding light.

Fiddle pulled out 2 flasks of holy water. The larger bodies were in his way and he couldn't get around the corner. He signaled to Vlad to take some of the holy water from his bandoleer too.

Sully tried to help with his magic. But he too was not able to see into the fracas. Alya pulled back.

So Fiddle and Vlad moved forward and started lobbing flasks of holy water over the shoulders of Fextor, Valgrim, and Valorean.

Hissss, hisssss, hisss... 

"Good shot, Fiddle." Valgrim cried. "The holy water is working. NNNnnooooooo..."

Valgrim collapsed. His face a pale gray. All life had left his body.

Valorean and Fextor doubled their efforts. The ghouls paid too. The battle was over.

The bodies of two more escaped squidmen prisoners littered the room's floor also.

*edit: for more info on a side tangent... i haven't yet added to the story... visit: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=128583*


----------



## diaglo

*Which way did he go?*

"Well, lets recover our plate mail we loaned to Valgrim," Fiddle stated.

"Don't you dare defile him," Valorean warned.

"It is ours..." Fiddle tried to say.

The paladin would not listen. He refused to let Fiddle do anything but place Valgrim inside the party's magical bag. The others humored Valorean too.

Another door lay ahead. And it seemed the only way now. With Valgrim gone, the party could only guess about the whereabouts of Darian's cell. The pathfinding spell died with Valgrim.

Vlad picked the lock. And the party moved inside.

A large chamber with a narrow descending path greeted the party. At the bottom was another door. Several stalactites dangled near the path. They contained doors. Cells, maybe. Hope filled Fiddle. Maybe Darian was here.

"DARIAN," Fiddle yelled. It echoed in the chamber.

No reply. The party moved from cell to cell. Eventually, they reached the last one. It was occupied by a lone human. Vlad picked the lock. And Fextor reached in and pulled out the occupant.

Darian. Nearly nekked. And covered with one of the tattoos. Fiddle healed the priest a little.

Now what?


----------



## diaglo

*Pop goes the weasel*

Sully spent the next hour studying the room. Fiddle, Harp, Fextor, Alya, Vlad, and Valorean guarded the doors. Darian rested.

When all was set. Valorean volunteered to stay behind for the next trip. The party gathered into a tight group and Sully transported them outside the Rose Altar in Tilverton. No Darian. Fiddle checked the bag. No Valgrim either.

"I knew it," Fiddle exclaimed. "The tattoo keeps them from using magic to escape the prison."

Sully transported everyone back.

"Looks like we will have to hike out of here," Alya stated.

"Well, if you help me find my stuff," Darian hinted, "I could be of more use."

Fiddle handed him a weapon. One of Calrom's old axes. And Valorean handed him his holy symbol. The debate started anew about using the armor on Valgrim for Darian. Valrgrim was placed in the bag.

Darian went nekked. The party set off again back the way they came. Darian continued to whine about his things.


----------



## diaglo

*Do you want a little Cheese with that?*

"Whine, whine, whine," Fiddle commented. "Well, no need to check. We know this is the Real Darian."

In the end to shut the priest up the party gave in. They went down one of the side treks. Wrong one it seemed for a voice entered their heads.

"So you thought to get away did you?" it said. A squidwomyn most likely.

Sully tried out his newfound magic before the thing could stun them. An obscuring mist of acid filled the chamber. Things started to melt. The thing howled and whispered to Vlad in friendly tones. Vlad struck his former friends with his rapier. Alya scared him into the mist with the gorillas with his Alien mistress. A big hulking thing of metal blocked the way before the others could hurt the squidwomym further.

Fextor and Valorean fought the metal guardian. Fiddle and Harp watched the party's rearend.

Sully fired off a ball of Lightning. Vlad avoided the trouble. But the Squidwomyn did not. And the acid and blows took care of the metal guardian.

"We've got company," Fiddle yelled.

Another prisoner climbed down the ladder and into the midst of the caltrops. A vicious looking but injured squidman.

"Friend or foe," the voice asked Fiddle.

"Neither," Fiddle replied. "Just here recovering a former member of the Stormslayers so he can.."

"Fiddle," ALya interrupted. "TMI"

Fiddle ignored the bard and negoiated an alliance with the prisoner. One in which it would help the party against the hydra and other possible guards for help from the party to escape.

When Fextor found out what Fiddle had done he fumed. He refused to accept the alliance. But he didn't act on his own.


----------



## diaglo

*Hydra foiled*

The next big thing was the hydra. Eleven heads and a massive body. Fiddle recalled the 7 headed one he had slain oh so many moons ago. He wasn't looking forward to this fight. Perhaps his new ally, the squidman, could distract the beast.

"I'll make us invisible as groups," Sully said. "And with this wand we can all fly." The gnome pulled out one of numerous pieces of wood tucked in his belt.

And with that Alya made them magically quiet too.

Up, up, and away. The party reached the top of the spiral staircase. They passed the hydra, but it did little other than sniff at them. Too late.

Down a corridor and ... into the midst of 3 hulking flesh guards. Battle was joined. Sully let loose another of his blinding magic dusts.

Valorean, Alya, Fiddle, Harp, and Vlad weighed in on the guards. Fextor hung back with Darian and the squidman.

Thump... the squidman's head rolled down the corridor. Fextor's swing was true. He rushed forward to join the others in the other melee. One, two, One, two...

They made quick work of the guards. Fiddle healed the injured.

"Freedom," Darian blurted.


----------



## diaglo

*Bodak in a bag*

The party made tracks to the cave in. Fiddle covered them as best he could.

They made camp nearby and decided on their next course of action. They needed to remove the curse from the tattoo on Darian. He would need to rest and wait for the morning.  So Lathander would provide the proper magic.

On the subject of Valgrim it was decided to leave him behind in the bag. Fiddle dumped out the contents. The party sorted thru them and chose what they could carry. Valgrim went back into the bag. Fiddle stitched it closed with his infinite needles and slings. The party lost 17000gp worth of armor and another couple thousand gps for the bag. Fiddle chalked that up to Darian's shares.

Fextor went to work on the wall using the mining tools. A small burial site.

The night was uneventful. In the morning Darian removed the tattoo and fashioned a place in the wall for Valgrim with another spell. Fextor added a few touches.

Sully took them to Tilverton.


----------



## diaglo

*Hopping around*

The party dropped off Darian at the Rose Altar to start his work on crafting the items for the Smurfnibblins'. Sully left to pickup Grishelm from Ashabenford almost immediately.

There was a discussion with Filani. And then with Darian's high priest about all of the party's recent news. During which things got a little heated. Fextor was full of questions. It was then the party realized they hadn't told him everything. And Vlad too missed a part of the story.

Alya and Fiddle looked at each other. "Sybil," they said in unison.

So Sully took Fextor, Vlad, Alya and Fiddle to visit the old crinkled elf womyn.

Alarms sounded.

"Who dares arrive here uninvited?" the crone asked.

"Hiya," Fiddle blurted out. "It's us, the Stormslayers. We've got some news and information and possible goodies for ya."

The party filled in Sybil on the latest. And Fiddle told her and everyone about his idea to use the Black Grail and Sully's potion. With all the rounds covered and all the major players informed, Sully took the party back to rest for the night in Ashabenford.


----------



## diaglo

*To recover a potion*

Once rested, the party knew what had to be done. They would recover the Dragonsblood potion. The Kiss of Life as Sully referred to it now.

But that meant going to the Ruined Drow city.

Sully transported everyone to their normal spot outside the city. He again used his magic to make the party appear as goblins. They strode up to the Giants at the gate and beyond into the city. A little grunting and well chosen words made it an easier task to get by the big brutes.

Fiddle lead them to the ruined building. They ran into some trouble. A roaming band of drow ghouls and a Giant zombie. Alya used his swearing bow...   And the party made quick work of the remaining undead.

Speed and silence were important now. Fextor went to work on the spot Fiddle indicated he had buried one of the potions. Everyone else stood watch and waited for trouble. The other potion was back on the terrace. After this one was recovered they would get the other.

Harp vanished. A little bit later he came back and beckoned for Fiddle to follow. Curiosity peaked. Fiddle went to see what his animal friend had found.


----------



## diaglo

*My preciouusssss... st00pid hobbittssesss*

Harp led Fiddle to another nearby building. The clang, clang, clang of Fextor’s work was only slightly muffled. Inside it was dark. Sully’s magic helped the hin to see. Harp ran ahead. A figure stirred. The image of the evil Vampire from the Banewarrens, the one who had slain Helgert, Moston, and nearly Vaesillian with but a flick of his wrist, came to Fiddle’s mind. They, too according to Darian, could command rats and wolves. This one was drow and a woman.

Quick and feral, the thin, wiry individual was covered with matted brown fur and had a long, hairless tail. She carried a rapier in her paw, and her face was distinctly ratlike. Her eyes constantly darted around, and the nose and mouth twitched whenever she was excited. 

“No,” thought Fiddle. “Not a vampire. This one was alive. Something else. Something more like those hulking wolfmen the tiefling had as bodyguards. Silver. He would need to use silver if things got out of hand.”

“Good work, little one,” the sherat whispered in drow. 

“His name is Harp,” Fiddle replied in drow.

“Logala, it speaks,” the drowess hissed. “And it fights well. We saw it and its friends kill the walking dead. But they are not goblins. No, Logala. They are not. Their friend tells us. Which side does it fight for.”

“We have nothing to hide,” Fiddle spoke. “We are just here to recover what is ours. We fight for no one but ourselves. The Stormslayers. I am Fiddle Dragonslayer Skipstone. I have slain many a dragon. Which side do you favor? You are not the dead. And you are not a giant.”

“Ours, it says,” Logala rambled. “Ours? This great city was once ours, Dragonslayer. Perhaps, we should take it to meet our friends.”

Fiddle and Logala negotiated a peace. Fiddle would get his friends. And Logala would lead them to meet the remaining true drow of Maerimydra. The newest faction in the war the party had found. A battle of Five Armies… The Drow, The White Banshee, The Moandites, The Giants, and The Dalesmen.


----------



## diaglo

*The Once Hidden, now Found.*

It took Fiddle a lot of doing, but the party finally did follow him to meet Logala. She was in rat form. She led them on a merry chase thru the ruins of the city. Clearly she knew the place well. She also kept them safe from discovery. Fiddle made sure to cover their tracks as best he could just in case. Time slowed down.

A large inn stood at the intersection. Its upper stories destroyed by fire, but its ground floor was more or less intact, even if the broken windows and smashed furniture out in the street indicated that it did not escape the attention of looters. The bonfires from the Giant’s army were nearby.

Logala uncovered a hidden hatch and climbed from view. The others tensed up. The enemy of my enemy is… Fiddle hurried and followed the drowrat. 

“Who have you brought us, Logala?” a deep male drow voice asked from the shadows.

“Friends,” Fiddle replied. This startled a small female goblin in the corner.

The leader of the group or so Fiddle assumed strode into view. His hair was black and cut short, and his skin was as inky black as the shadows he came from. He dressed stylishly in black and dark grey, wearing studded leather. He moved very gracefully with a Greatsword strapped across his back.

Logala and the leader spoke in the language of drow sign. The rest of the party arrived. Alya and Sully took over for the party. Sully dropped the disguises. Hamadh spoke for the drow.

The history of the past few months came to the front. The drow were betrayed to the Giants by some of their own. A secret cult. They worshipped the White Banshee. The giants were led by Kurgoth Hellspawn. Part Giant, Part something else. And then the drow turned on the Giants. What it was over…Hamadh didn’t know. The party or more to the point Fiddle filled in some of the gaps. The Black Grail. The Moandites. The trouble above ground. The reason for the party being here. Heck Fiddle told them about the Spirals of Manzessine and the mind flayers. In return for the information and a password to get into Castle Maerimydra, the Stormslayers would remove the Black Grail and seed the trouble for the besieging forces. The chaos caused by the theft would be the catalyst the Drow needed to possibly regain their city. This too would fulfill the Stormslayers obligations to the now deceased Randal Morn. At least in Fiddle’s mind.

Fiddle warned the others it was not safe. The party had compromised the Hideout. The groups split up. The party fled to the North to recover the last potion. They would meet Logala and get the password later.


----------



## diaglo

*Storming the Castle*

The fires on the terrace were gone. The goblin patrols too. By Fiddle's reckoning the White Banshee and her undead had turned the tide. It wouldn't be long now before the Giants were all walking corpses.

The party travelled the tunnel to the secret room. Fiddle dug into the mushroom mess and pulled out the potion. They honed their weapons and checked their gear. Sully and Alya ran thru a list of magic they might need in the assault on Castle Maerimydra.

A brief discussion ensued. Should Sully go home and give the potion, The Kiss of Life, to his Auntie? What would the place be like in a month? a week? heck even a day? The magic of conjuring was all messed up. Something. Something inside Castle Maerimydra most likely caused the necromancy to improve and the other magic to falter.

First they would need to get clear of the Giant's Army. Logala and Hamdh had said to come at the Castle from the back. It was unguarded. Once inside the party would need to be drow or undead or just very, very lucky.

The party trudged around the perimeter of the city by way of the Lake and the slave pens. A way Fextor suggested. They met with Logala at the right location. She whispered the password. 



Spoiler



*Olgar Shiverstone* whispered it too so I don't have it in my notes.



And away they went. Across a great expanse of land. Two slobbering vicious ghoul things sniffed the air, but they did not discover the party. The way continued upto a high steep cliffside. With the use of magic a doorway to reach the summit without climbing was produced.

A little uneasiness and then they were clear. They were almost there. The backdoor of Castle Maerimydra.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

The assault begins within 48 hours ...

"Certain Death? Small chance of success? What are we waiting for!"


----------



## diaglo

*Inside, outside, upside down*

Castle Maerimydra greeted the party. Three massive towers connected by slender bridges plus a series of buttressed walls. One of the towers hung from the cavern ceiling. And all of this protected by a _Forbiddance_ spell the party had the password to bypass.

Still they needed to get inside. The back door was at the top of a funneled stairway. Two heavy metal doors blocked further progress. The party each said the password as they ascended the stairs.

"The patrol returns," a drow voice called inside. And then directed back to the party thru a small hole. "Any news from the outside?"

"We are from farther afield," Alya replied. "We must report to the commander."

The gate edged open. "Hurry up and get inside and be quick about it," the drow scolded. "The fun is about to begin again soon."

"Damn, dirty goblins," Fiddle blurted.

Inside there were 3 other drow males besides the doorelf. Also one of the Revenancer's pets helped guard the room.

Alya exchanged a few more words with the doorelf and then led the party into the next room. A mess hall. Six more drow sat here. One stood and asked of news from the outside. Alya once again diverted the potential inquistion. He led the party into a grand hallway. Doors in many directions. The party hung around trying to figure out which way next.

A drow female strode out of one door on the way to the mess hall.

Not that one, Fiddle guessed. He counted in his head, "That makes 11 drow and 1 undead enemy at our rear."

So the party chose another door using the left hand rule and continued.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

That left-hand rule served pretty well.

Well, that plus _seeming_, _invisibility sphere_, silence, good bluff checks, and some good luck. And a tendency to resist all the halfling's suggestions.


----------



## diaglo

*Vrock, vrock, who's there?*

The new room had a stairway leading up. Inside two drow sparred with wooden swords. Fiddle started to approach them to get behind one of them. Fextor grabbed the scruff of his collar. The drow stopped for a second as Fiddle approached. They continued unabated.

Up the party traveled. Three new doorways. Sully made sure with his magic that all could communicate in a whisper. Fiddle listened at the left door. The sounds of combat alerted him to the goblin assault outside. He checked the door. And Fextor strode forward and opened it. Here was a battlement with another set of stairs leading up. Sully cast invisibility on the party.

Up again. They heard a noise and a loud boom. A large creature tried to force itself inside the castle at the top of the stairs. It looked like a cross between a large human and a huge vulture. It had strong, sinewy limbs covered with small gray feathers, a long neck topped with a vulture head, and vast feathered wings. It stood 8 ft tall and weighed over 500 lbs. It was clearly angry and frustrated by the _forbiddance_. 

“Istava morthaum,” Fiddle called out the password.

The demon stopped and stared for a moment. Another of the creatures dropped from the sky and landed beside it. They began to chatter in their own vile language. Then the first dove over the side of the building. The second right on its tail.

The party breathed a sigh of relief.

“We should’ve given it the password,” Alya noted. “The chaos of letting a demon loose in the Castle would’ve been priceless.”

“I tried,” Fiddle mumbled to himself.

The top of the stairs showed the demon’s handiwork, a ruined door off its hinge. It once protected a small antechamber with another door. The party each said the password and entered.


----------



## diaglo

*8 legged she beast*

Fiddle listened and Fextor opened. The door led into a hallway with a door at the far end and one on either side. Fextor approached the left door. He became visible.

ZZZZzzaaaPPPpp

The dwarf was thrown slightly backwards from the jolt. The others tensed. Fiddle moved forward, also becoming visible, to see if the trap remained. As he got on his knee, the door behind them swung open and a drow female snarled.

“You have disturbed my rest,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“A thousand pardons, mistress,” Fiddle stammered. “A demon destroyed the door. We were checking to make sure it had not entered further.”

“Go away, useless male,” the drow snapped. “No demon has entered here.” She slammed the door shut after watching Fextor and Fiddle head down the hallway groveling.

The two turned back around and found the others. Sully recast the spell. And Alya added silence to the group. Fextor opened the door. It was another bedchamber with another female drow staring at the battle below.

The party opened the door at the end of the hall. It was a covered bridge. They hurried across and into the next tower. It was a larger antechamber with 3 more doorways, a double door opposite and 2 small wooden ones on the right and left. The party was about to try the left door when a large figure opened the double doors. This strange being had the head and torso of a dark elf female and the legs and lower body of a giant spider. She also had paler skin, haunting red eyes, and a feral cast to her features. She was a vampire.

She sniffed the air and said something, but the party couldn’t hear. Alya dismissed the silence. The vampiress spoke words of magic. Fiddle, Fextor, Vlad, and Alya lit up purple.

“I’m purple,” Fiddle giggled.

“Show yourselves,” she said in drow.

Alya convinced the vampire the party meant no harm. They bowed as the beast strode from the room to the bridge. The party quickly darted thru the double doors. Fiddle locked them.


----------



## diaglo

*Ghostball*

"I should feed one of you to the Doomsphere," Fiddle heard the departing words from the vampire. 

Four large pillars dominated the small room. A glowing shaft of light 10 ft in diameter occupied the center. Another set of doors was opposite. The party scurried to the doors. It wouldn't be long before the vampire turned back around to test the party's story.

The next room was a vast library with a balcony. Two vile ghouls sat devouring their latest victim. They had foot long tongues which trailed off into smoky incorporeality. They made no move to attack the party. Quickly the party ascended the spiral stairs of the balcony.  Something tried the doors Fiddle locked.

Another set of doors greeted them. The party ran thru. A similar room to the one directly below. The strange light beckoned. Sully and Alya examined it.

"Move towards the light," Fiddle heard himself thinking. So he did. He leapt into the light.

Just as Sully said," Levitation. Think up, Fiddle."

Fiddle hung suspended in the air. The others joined him. And the party started to rise. The light dimmed above and the party started to sink. They dove to the side. The vampire could've been below.

"What the?" Fextor started to say as he and Fiddle were suddenly themselves again. Really themselves, not drow.

A great ball of eyes stared at them. "The Doomsphere I presume," Fiddle noted.

Vlad and Fiddle unleashed their full on attack. Some of which seemed to pass right thru the thing. It was dead. Or more truthfully a ghost. The eyes lashed out at the party.  Fiddle was partially splashed with acid. Sully and Alya also let loose some magic. Fextor chopped into the ghostly orb. It vanished. 

From somewhere far below, a drow voice called up, "Great job. A few days of rest from that thing."


----------



## diaglo

*Going Up. Third Floor.. Furniture, Household Appliances*

Into the shaft the party climbed again. Up, up, up...until they came to a iron grate at the top. Fiddle examined it.

"What are you doing?" a drow voice asked from above to Fiddle. "You are awfully small for a trooper."

"We are here to report a disturbance in the force?," Alya spoke up. 

"Which way to the power core?" Vlad added. "We need to disengage..."

Alya whacked him. The bard talked to the drow officer. And subtlety got the information the party needed. They descended back to the last floor and exited the shaft.  Thru the doors and into a new hallway. Two sets of metal double doors and a small wooden one. Fiddle proceeded to the wooden one and opened it. A stairwell.

"Maybe we will find your officer buddy up at the top," Fextor mused.


----------



## diaglo

*What's cooking*

Not so lucky. The room at the top of was a kitchen. Sully quickly replenished his spice collection and cooking utensils. Three doors in the kitchen. Left hand rule resulted in a small pantry filled with an assortment of goods. Ground mushroom flour, fungi stalks, smoked rothe jerky, and whoknewwhatelse. Fiddle checked the next door. A simple wooden door. He opened it. Another hallway. A set of double doors on the right and a single door on the left. By Fiddle's estimate the double doors would find the drow officer. And the left hand rule still ruled.

So the party opened the left door. An exposed bridge back to the other tower. Back and forth. Perfect planning to thwart an invasion. The party hurried to the far door and opened it. A stairs down and a door. They opened the door.

Another column of light. Up, up, and away.

The next level had a surprise. A huge spider made all of jade. Fiddle ran a few numbers thru his head of the value of such a thing. As something fell on the party from above...


----------



## diaglo

*Ghoulish horror*

Four gruesome bodies fell amongst the party. Similar to the ghouls the party encountered outside. They had smoking foot long tongues. One reached for Fiddle, another for Vlad, and the last two for Fextor. Fiddle sprung aside and fell to the floor below. He landed very near the jade spider. Two latched onto their prey, Vlad and Fextor.

Vlad did not fair well. The ghoul attached its tongue to his neck. Vlad's eyes glazed. He plummeted to the floor with the ghoul. Alya and Sully leapt out of the shaft too. The remaining ghoul attacked Fextor from below. Fextor struggled and carried his one opponent clear of the shaft and to the ground.

"Attack," Fiddle yelled at Harp. The rat backed away.

Fiddle hacked at the ghoul on Vlad. It let go. Vlad quickly drew his axe and struck. The magic lightning had no effect and the metal just left a scratch. The ghoul grabbed Vlad again. Alya used magic to grease down Vlad. Sully unleashed a ball of lightning into the shaft. The ghouls ignored it. The ghouls jumped out and onto the party.

Fextor continued to kick, elbow, punch and grab the ghoul. It attached a tongue to his forearm. He too suffered.

And then a strange thing happened. The Jade spider moved. It stabbed one of the ghouls.

The tide of battle turned. The party hacked, fought, and pulverized the ghouls with the help of the spider. But clearly not before they took many a wound. The fight was brutual and short with the aid.

Blood flowed freely from Vlad, Fextor, Alya, and Fiddle. Only Sully escaped hazardous injury. Fiddle expended Calrom's wand healing the party. Fextor and Vlad had lost much of their worldly common sense. Something from the ghouls had drained them.

"I am here," a ghostly voice spoke.

It was then Fiddle realized the room contained a door. Four doors in fact. And one of them was ajar. A revenant stood there. Offering to help the party.

Alya quickly got some new names from the thing. Duneth and Irae. Duneth was in charge of the ghouls. And Irae was a priestess of the White Banshee. The way ahead was thru a set of double doors.


----------



## diaglo

*Antipaladin.*

Another exposed bridge. This one higher up than the last one. And the tower across dangled from the cavern ceiling. The party was a long ways up.

They hurried across to the new tower. As Fextor opened the door, they heard a clatter. Bottles and cans once stacked came crashing down with the heavy door's movement.

An unoccupied room. The party entered on guard. Fextor and Vlad made a game of restacking the litter.

"Stop that," Alya hissed.

Across from the entrance was another set of double doors. This led to a hallway. Three more doors and a stairs leading down. As the party pondered where to go next.

"Come in," a drow voice called to them from behind door #1. "I know you are here."

Fextor opened the door and the party filed into the room. The most prominent feature was a throne with a male drow draped on it. A large sword propped up one of his arms. His armor radiated evil. It was almost alive. A Demon. A stairway up and the door the party guarded were the only visible exits.

"My lord," Alya started. "The ghouls have gone wild. They attacked us. We are looking for Duneth to report the trouble."

The drow frowned and then he laughed.

"You are not who you appear to be," he said. "After I kill you I will find out for whom you work."

"Rats," Sully gulped.

Fiddle leapt to the side of the throne and stabbed with Lightning Strike.*(I rolled a nat 1)* He struck the chair where the evil drow Champion had once been. 

"To me," the drow yelled. He chopped, chopped, chopped. Fiddle nearly swooned. Blood flowed. *(I went from fully healthy to only 6hp good thing i wasn't Good otherwise i'd have been dead)*

Fextor and Vlad moved into position and struck out at the drow. Sully concentrated hard to overcome the drow's natural resistance. It worked. The Champion tossed aside his prized sword. Alya made himself blurry.

Fiddle recovered and struck back. With Vlad's help distracting the drow, the hin made every blow count. The head came clear of the body and the demon armor tumbled lifeless to the ground. 

Two of the ghouls came down the stairs and attacked Fextor. The dwarf could ill afford another damaging touch from the things.


----------



## diaglo

*some OoC reading*

*for some background on the next fight visit: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=133149   and http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=133322 *


----------



## diaglo

*Foolhardy heroes.*

Fextor pulled back and handled his Bohemian Ear Spoon. *(really he had a Guisarme iirc but it doesn't have the same image)* Vlad back away also and fired off his bow. Sully, too, moved away from the ghoul grapplers. He fired off bolts of fiery magic. Alya, trusting in his own magic to protect him, began to sing.

Fiddle went toe to toe with one of the creatures. He landed a few blows. A claw struck him and the lights went out...


Fiddle awoke with Alya standing over top of him and one of the ghouls in combat with Fextor and Vlad still. He zapped himself with his last wand of healing. Fiddle was in no shape to handle another lucky claw.

Fextor, Sully, Vlad, and Alya didn't need help anyway. The ghoul collapsed from the onslaught. Still the party had little hope of going much further.

"I've used most of my magic," Alya commented. "Even my vocals and practiced performances are all but gone from my head."

"I'm not much better," Sully added. "Lets hope they don't have any more of those ghouls."

"I've cast all my magic too," Fiddle mentioned. "And my wand is down to 6 charges."

Some gruesome images on the walls and statues in the room gave the party pause. Fiddle quickly checked the other doors on the level for anything useful. He found a bed chamber. Nothing really valuable. The stairs in the hall going down led to an observation deck. It gave a grand view of the whole city below. A large red figure flew nearby.

"The demon is away," Fextor said. " Let the party play. Little resources, in the thick of the enemies' stronghold, with no chance of aid arriving, and no hope of success. What are we waiting for? Lets try the stairs up."


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Heh.  Near the top of a drow citadel, out of spells, low on healing, and the drow know they're there.  Can our heroes escape?


----------



## diaglo

*Temple raiders*

Fiddle kept the Drow Champion's head as a trophy. Fextor broke the evil sword into many little pieces. And Alya covered the rest of the corpse with flesh eating slugs from the Bag O' Slugs. When all was done, the party slowly climbed the stairs to the next level. 

The statuary and the reliefs carved into the walls were very disturbing. Someone or something had been touched by a demon to make such imagery. Fiddle checked every step carefully. The room at the top of the staircase was not much better. More statues and more frescoes. What was different was the theme. This one had been perverted recently. Instead of drow, demons, and spiders, the artwork featured drow, otherworldly thralls, and undead. Only one set of doors exited the room.

Fiddle listened and heard two drow voices conversing in soft tones. He warned the others.

"Mistress," Alya opened the door with an apology, "the ghouls have turned against us and Duneth is nowhere to be found."

"Fools," the drow priestess hissed. "What was that noise below? Where is Khumarr?" 

She was not alone. A male drow with an eerie presence and fangs stood very close to her. The room was a shrine or temple to the White Banshee. An image of a white drow and another drow woman covered the back of the altar.

"He's gone to White Castle, Mistress," Fiddle replied as best he could without laughing.

"Harold went with him," Vlad added from the back of the party.

"You have disturbed my rite," the drow priestess continued without listening. "Leave now or I will feed you to the ghouls myself."

"Yes, Mistress," Fiddle bowed and casually reached for his Lathanderite locket. "The Light of Lathander take you."


----------



## diaglo

*The Lesser Temple*

Time slowed down as Sully unleashed his most powerful spell. A cloud of fog smothered the room. The smell of strong vinegar permeated the air. "Don't enter the fog," the gnome warned.

The party split up, Pixie Sully and Alya on one side of the fog with Fextor, Vlad, the animals, and Fiddle guarding the door.

For good measure Sully let fly a ball of lightning into the fog.

It stirred up a hornet's nest. The male drow attempted to exit the fog near Fiddle. Vlad fired a volley of arrows. The drow knocked the arrows aside. Fiddle unleashed all of his blade tricks. He scored only one successful blow. The drow moved to quickly or had just enough armor to prevent any harm. This would not do. Even Harp assisted in keeping the thing in the cloud.

Alya began to sing. And then the female drow exited the cloudbank in front of Sully. He swung with his staff but missed his mark. Boom...Sizzle.... Sizzle... Roar... The fiery gods of hell unleashed a storm. Fiddle and Vlad escaped injury, but not so for Harp nor Redd nor the rest.

Sully cried out and Alya's singing stopped.

Fextor struck the male drow. It vanished as vapor.

* a duel between Sully and the female drow with Alya in the balance occurred on the other side of the fog... Fiddle couldn't see.*

The fog lit up and Sully yelled again. "Damn you. She got away. And Alya is injured badly. I have no way to call off the fog. The drow priestess has walked into another plane."

The party waited. When the fog faded, Alya was up and about using the last of the potions. The altar had collapsed. The former supports were drow zombies. The place looked melted. They quickly rummaged thru a closet. A few priestly robes the only prize.

"We don't have much time," Fiddle remarked. "The vampire will reform. And who knows what aid the priestess will summon. I'm truly sorry for acting so hasty."

"Think not on it," Fextor comforted the hin.


----------



## howandwhy99

Bump.


We salute you who are about to be bumped... off... permanently.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

*Interlude ... The Rose Altar in Tilverton*

Darian Dawnguard knelt in his cell, finishing the final prayers over his crafted armor.  It wasn't as familiar, nor as desirable, as the chain shirt he had previously worn, but since that -- along with all of his other equipment -- was likely permanently lost in a mind flayer prison deep in the Underdark, this would have to do.  Luckily, Lathander had blessed him with increased powers since his return from slavery, and the church had been kind enough to recompense him for his losses.  In return for devoted service, of course.

A knock came at the door to his cell.  Rising, Darian slid the door open, revealed the concerned, lined face of the master of the Rose Altar, Dawnlord Gwinneth.

"Brother Darian, you must accompany me," Gwinneth commanded.  "An event of utmost urgency concerns you."  

Darian followed as the elderly priest led hom through the nave of the altar, into a back chamber lit only by the pink light of the dawn coming in through the stained glass roof.  Within was a single still pool of still, silent water.  Standing about it were another Lathanderite novice, the paladin Velarn, a dwarf in dark filligreed armor, and an elven woman wearing a breastplate carved of a strange but exquisite wood.

Dawnlord Gwinneth nodded to the others, though he made no introductions, and motioned Darian forward to the pool.

"Your companion, Master Sullygrub, arranged to have us scry him while he and your companions went to rescue you," Gwinneth began.  "Normally, we would not violate another's privacy while continuing to do so once the mission was complete.  But your own reports, and those of Velarn here, have continued to concern us about the danger of this strange sect of dark elves.  Velarn insisted that we check on your companions.  Timely, it was -- for they are in dire peril.  Observe."

Darian looked into the pool, seeing that in its depths the image of another place was formed ... an evil place, formed of bone, somewhere deep within the earth.  In that evil chamber, a group of five dark elves contended against two others.  A burst of flame was followed by billowing green acidic fog  Two animals -- a fox and rat -- crisped and died in the firestorm.  Three of the elves struck down another, who turned to gas and disappeared.  One elf launched bursting balls of electric flame at a drow priestess wearing the severed hand symbols of Kiransalee, the demented goddess of death, undeath, and vengeance.

"Though you do not recognize them, the five dark elves are your companions, disguised by a _seeming_.  They have infiltrated the drow stronghold of Maerimydra, and even now contend against a priestess in one of the inner sanctuaries.  We have been watching for some time.  They have been quite successful so far, but are tired, wounded, and have now alerted the fortress to their presence."

Darian gasped.  His friends were close to death, and he had spent the past week fussing over his own adornments!

"While we would normally take little interest in a group of adventurers, the threat they have revealed concerns us all.  The cult of Kiransalee would plunge the world into darkness and death should they gain sufficient power.  We need more information about the threat they represent.  And it is not only the Church of Dawn that requires this.  This elf is Chloe Hartspur, a representative of the elves of Cormanthor, here to learn more about the drow threat to the forest.  Your friends are recognized as one of the few surviving experts on the dark elves, and Eliar of Peldan's Helm sent Chloe here seeking them.  I would take it as a favor if you would take her along."

Darian nodded, stunned.  "Am I going somewhere?"

"Does the plight of your friends not concern you?" Gwinneth asked.  "It is time you repaid your most recent debt to the church -- return to aid your friends, and do what you can to discover the intent and powers of this cult of undeath."

"What can two do against such odds?" Darian asked. "And how might I reach my friends, knowing not where they are?  The drow would cut us down long before we reached them!"

"Fear not, Darian," Gwinneth replied.  "In addition to Miss Hartspur, we've hired a guide with some experience in the Underdark to assist you."  The dwarf stepped out of the shadows, bowing.  "Dunin Anvilgate will assist you.  He is a fearsome warrior.  We'd thought to send your deep gnome companion along, but Grishelm is still awaiting our completion of the item you promised his people -- which we will complete in your absence.  Three companions, plus that magic we have provided you, will suffice.  Now join hands.  You need not worry about locating your friends.  This mission is of sufficient importance that Lathander hs seen fit to grant a miracle this day."

The elf and dwarf stepped forward to join Darian, as Dawnlord Gwinneth chanted.  The light from above became blinding, and the world swam ...


----------



## the Jester

It's nice to see you guys fighting lean... Olgar, you sure do like to push your group!


----------



## diaglo

*Someone called the Cavalry*

"We're walking, we're walking, we're walking," Alya said over and over again. "We need to get the body of the drow champion so he doesn't come back as a revenant."

"Okay, okay," Fextor agreed.

The party gathered themselves and were just about to head back down the stairs when...


Pooffff

A flash of bright light and out stepped Darian Dawnguard, a dwarf, a large weasel, and a woman with elvish features. The woman quickly assumed drow form.

"DROW," Fiddle screamed and closed to finished her.


"Hold," Darian stepped in the way. "Fiddle, Chloe's with me. As is Dunnin." He indicated the dwarf. "Are you hurt?"

"Hurt?" Vlad said. "Are you offering to heal us?"

Sully concentrated.  "Yes, as hard as it is to believe. This is, in fact, Darian."

Alya quickly explained the situation and the need for urgency. Darian and Chloe healed the party. It was decided the party would recover the body of the antipaladin and then teleport to the door just outside the lower tower's balcony. From there they would head free of the Castle and back to safety.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

At this point, the newcomers are wondering: "Why didn't Lathander just miracle these guys to us?  What are we doing at the top of a drow citadel with no way out?"  Not for the last time!


----------



## diaglo

*Friendly Holy Fire*

Out the door and down the stairs Fiddle and Alya led with Chloe, Darian, Fextor, Vlad, Sully and Dunnin in tow. Two large Giant sized fiendish 4-armed shapes coalesced from the shadows of the pillars. Fiddle ran to the rear. Alya swore an oath and fired into the mist. Chloe reacted with equal forces. She called down the fires from the air on top of the Fiendish Giants. It sizzled all around them but caused them no harm. Darian followed suit. The flames engulfed Chloe and the weasel too.

Vlad fired into the mist with his bow and Fextor swung his axe. They weren't really there it seemed. Sully tried his own form of magic. He quickened the party's pace. Dunnin moved around the way and kept to the shadows.

The Giants attacked poor Chloe and Vlad. Fiddle ran forward and hit solidly with Ice. No harm, no blood. Alya fired again. Chloe tried again to harm the Demons with magic. Nothing. Darian fired a bolt of his famous God's light. The Demons had second thoughts. Vlad sprung into motion. He stabbed the nearest Demon from behind. It fell. Fextor moved on the other one. Sully had observed how Vlad's electrical charge hadn't really hurt the things. He swore and tried something else on the last Demon. 5 bolts of magic. Dunnin used Vlad's tactic and sprung at the Demon. A quick jab and he retreated to guard the only exit.

The Demon looked Fextor in the eyes and returned to smoke form. It seeped under the door and was gone.

The party froze for a moment to take it all in.. Fextor struck. He nearly halved Chloe with his axe.

"I hates to do it," Fiddle said aloud. "But the druid can always bring you back as something else." He ran forward and stabbed Fextor in the kidneys.

Sully spoke a few words. The light in Fextor's eyes returned to normal. All was back to normal.

Almost. Darian healed Chloe by way of apology. However, Chloe still had to use her own magic to return to health. Fextor begged off any healing.

Dunnin opened the door and the party recovered what remained of the drow champion. The slugs had done so far a good job.


----------



## diaglo

*Spored to death... almost*

"So I'll dump us at the doorstep where that vulture demon was trying to get in," Sully said. "But it will take me a couple trips. Who wants to go first?"

Fiddle, Fextor, Vlad, and Alya volunteered. Sully dropped them off and went back for seconds. As the queasiness cleared, Fiddle looked for a way clear of the landing pad. He opened the door behind him. And Alya's bow went sailing past done the long corridor. Fiddle turned the corner and looked back. The vulture demon was back. And in a moment the others would be facing it. Alya ran to retrieve the bow. Fextor and Vlad were already clear.

Battle was joined. Fextor, Fiddle, Vlad, and Alya said the password and met their foe on the stairs. 


Sully, Darian, Dunnin, Chloe, and the Weasel arrived. The demon shrieked. Several members were stunned by the sheer volume of the call.

It also meant the drow priestesses would arrive soon. Darian closed and held the door.


----------



## diaglo

*All that and a ton of  bricks*

Things went from bad to worse. The Vulture sprayed Fiddle with a cloud of spores. They burrowed into his flesh. And from back in the room, Darian engaged the drow priestesses. Fextor grabbed the big bird. Vlad, Fiddle and Alya wailed into it. Another form appeared in the sky and descended.

"Here comes another one," Alya yelled. 

The first one broke free of Fextor. Vlad sliced it with his axe and it fell.

In the room a barrier of blades blocked the door. No one could get in or out. A second set of blades occupied the long corridor. One of the drow females lay in a pile at Darian's feet. The other battled on.

The new vulture called to its master in abyssal.

"It is calling the Balrog," Darian shouted.

The vulture swept into the fray with Fextor and Alya. It covered Fextor in spores.

Fextor grabbed hold. Alya blinked out and reappeared beside Vlad. Vlad moved forward into combat with the vulture. Fiddle chopped the head off the fallen bird so it wouldn't rise again.

The blades vanished from the door. "Help is on the way," Sully yelled.

The vulture blinked out of existance. Fextor held air.

"Up there," Fiddle said. He pointed to the bird.

The party broke out their bows and fired. They needed to bring the thing down before it completed the call to the Balrog.

After several volleys of arrows struck and caused no harm, Alya landed a true shot in one of the creatures eyes. It landed with a heavy thud on the battlement below.

Fiddle and Fextor were in bad shape. The spores continued to cause them harm. Chloe healed Fiddle.


----------



## diaglo

*the life of an adventurer Ale and Whores.*

"Beam us up, Darian," Dunnin whispered. "This is more than I bargained for."

Sully took one group with him and Darian the other by way of his deity's spell. Both groups prayed they would make it.

When Fiddle's eyes regained focus he stood in the middle of the aisle in a familiar church. The Rose Altar to Lathander in Tilverton. They made it.

A few seconds passed. And Darian and the others materialized.

"The Morninglord be praised," the High Priest called out as he approached. "You are reborn to the Light."

"My fee," Dunnin asked.

"Allow me," Fiddle spoke up. "Consider it a donation in Lathander's name. How much do they owe you?"

"Two thousand," Dunnin started to say...

Fiddle interrupted and began counting out the coin.

"Platinum," the Dwarf finished.

Fiddle continued. Darian filed a report in private. After paying Dunnin the hin sought out other priestly services to restore his health. The spores sapped him and his injuries didn't help matters. A day of rest was needed for he and Fextor. But first things first.

Fiddle spent another 500 platinum on the town buying drinks and women for all comers.


----------



## diaglo

*Trouble Downunder*

While Fiddle recovered from his demon fever and his night of debauchery, Sully et. al. went to visit Filani, Sybil, and other sources of information.

The morning after found the party gathered outside the Rose Altar again. They owed the smurfnibblin his goods. Inside the world panicked. The deep gnome was dead. His things untouched. The signs and witnesses all pointed to a revenant.  

The party agreed to take the magical bowl of endless food and water to the gnome community and return the body.

Rogaine greeted them with surprise and then sadness. They handed over their dead guide and the bowl. He offered to show them a new item of power. A large black pearl.

Fiddle's eyes lit up. An egg. A dragon egg. He offered money and other things for it. He also subtlely dropped hints as to what it was. He hoped the other party members would help him. Only Alya caught on.

And boy was he angry. "Great," the deep hin bard screamed. "ANother useless priest. Give me that and we will be going."

Rogaine handed over the egg clearly rebuffed. Sully took the party back to Tilverton.


----------



## JoeBlank

After talking with Darian, Sully informed his friends that the cleric's spells had allowed him to speak with the departed Redd, and that the fox was happy with his life and ready to move on to the next world. After visiting Filani and Sybil, Sully teleported himself and the body of his familiar to the Hidden Vale, to visit with family and to bury his friend.

It was a difficult decision for Sully to make, as he did not like keeping secrets from his friends, but with several newcomers to the party and recent run ins with mind flayers and the like he figured the less everyone knew, the better. 

In truth, Sully had managed to scrape together what was left of his money to afford the costly gems that Darian needed to breath life into the fox. But they still had to part ways. Redd was less than pleased with this decision, but the path the party was on was becoming too dangerous, even for one bound to a powerful sorcerer. Besides, with trouble spreading in various forms about the Dalelands it would be helpful to have someone watch over the Hidden Vale. So Sully returned Redd home, with the promise to mentally contacting him each day. 

The gnome also had difficult news for his Auntie Pello. According to Sybil, they had been misinformed about the method for creating the Kiss of Death potion. The dragon's blood was affected by the time it spent deep in the underdark, but it would not have any effect on a gnome made fae. Instead, some of the subject's blood, that of Auntie Pello, would have to be used, if she was to be able to use the resulting potion and be made mortal again. 

So Sully spend the night in the Vale, cooking for his family and thinking of better times. Auntie Pello provided two vials of her fae blood. In the morning, Sully said goodbye to his fox companion of so many years, hoping that they could be reunited when his quest was complete and his adventuring days over. 

He rejoined his friends at the Rose Altar to learn more bad news. His deep gnome cousin had apparently been slain be a revenant.


----------



## diaglo

*Trouble on the road*

"So what next?" Fiddle asked.

"I think we should talk with the High Priest," Darian announced.

"Yeah, there is much we have learned about what we can and can't do with the potion," Sully added. "It doesn't work the way we want. And could possible cause much harm if it fell into the wrong hands."

"Okay," Fiddle agreed. "Do we get to kill things and take their stuff?"

"Better than that," Fextor added. "We get to do the right thing."

The few members of the party to swear to keep the secrets the High Priest told were admitted into the chamber. Those who refused were asked to wait outside. Fiddle agreed. He even took notes.

So it was decided the party would look for Brother Heth. A priest of a temple in the mountains who had gone missing. And with him The Sword of Truth and Lies.

The party couldn't tell the others the facts. So trust was key. Chloe and Dunnin decided to join the expedition. The trip was uneventful for the most part. And small conversation and plenty of stories were exchanged. Fiddle did most of the talking. 

Eventually, the party reached an area where Brother Heth should have been. A burned out caravan was all that remained. Dunnin, Fiddle, and Chloe searched for signs.


----------



## diaglo

*The Chapel in the Hills*

Dunnin found old tracks to a small hidden path. It wound thru the forest and up to a hillside. A beautiful temple nestled in the cracks. Hidden. A sanctuary to Lathander. Chloe assumed bird form and scouted ahead. When she returned she reported seeing activity in the temple.

The party decided on stealth. Sully turned everyone invisible and Alya silenced the group as they got closer.

An old prophecy came to Fiddle:

When the Banshee the grail has earned
and silence whispers in the endless night
heed all that the world has learned
danger threatens drow seal our plight
the rod of dark fate lies close at hand
war and war shall tear the land
by the rods fierce demand
make all mortals understand

and seeing rogaine made something else pop into fiddle's head:

disguised sword found and lost by some
the spider squashed white banshee comes
delivered by priest of quaan
from black grail dead armies spawn
burn shall dark and die shall light
lest six heroes descend to fight
two blades hath the dragon skinner
heritage lost, the skin changer
blind in depths, warrior of light
faerie touched seeks deepest night
two peoples present but one face
one voice sings for many a race
through dark crypts creep
seeking cavern magic deep
by sword or dark fate
will grail power abate


by the time fiddle finished they were at the door.  Darian stepped out of the field and became visible. He knocked on the door and called to those inside. A brute of a fellow answered. He exchanged pleasantries with Darian and went to fetch another.

A hin in robes opened the door next. Feldrin he called himself. He knew not of Brother Heth's fate. Fiddle saw a bone ring on his finger. He pointed it out to the others and then bowled the fellow over. With the sudden appearance of Fiddle, Feldrin drew a blade stabbed, ran and called an alarm.

Fiddle tackled him and pounded his head into the stone floor all the while trying to get the hin to talk. The others hurried into the room.

Darian noticed the consecrated area wasn't anymore.

Feldrin begged for mercy and began to spill the beans on the caravans fate.

Pounding footsteps were heard fast approaching.

Sully blinked the party out of existence again.

Fiddle jumped him


----------



## diaglo

*The Cult of the Quaan*

Vlad stepped over and placed a foot on Feldrin's chest. The poor hin continued to gasp for breath. Fiddle threatened him menacingly with his sword. Dunnin hid to the side of two possible doors the guards would enter. Darian stood by the altar with his bow. Alya covered the other door with his drawn bow. Sully, Fextor, Chloe and the weasel moved closer to the action. They were invisible. Sully quickened everyone's pace with magic.

Louder footsteps ran on the roof. The doors swung open. And Dunnin struck. The victim staggered back. Fiddle stabbed Feldrin. Alya and Darian fired at the other door. Chloe assumed bear form. Vlad, Fextor, and Sully waited.

After the intial shock, Dunnin finished off the warrior and moved aside. Another human and a female dwarf were right behind.

"My brother," the human cried. "You shall pay for that."

Vlad pummeled Feldrin into unconsciousness. Chloe moved forward becoming visible to the other door. Darian waited for a better shot. Fiddle charged forward to back up Chloe and give Alya a defender.

The warriors emerged. Darian fired at the one from Dunnin's door. The warrior charged Dunnin. The dwarf moved on Darian. Chloe grabbed another and crushed him to her chest. Another one engaged Fiddle. Fiddle saw a half-orc starting a spell.

Fextor and Sully moved forward. The weasel became visible. Alya fired his bow.

Vlad guarded the prisoner. Dunnin battled with the other warrior. Chloe finished the warrior off and moved to see the half-orc. Darian stepped back and fired at the Dwarf. Fiddle sliced at his foe. A few small nicks. The warrior attacked Fiddle. A large earth creature appeared beside Vlad. And the half-orc cast another spell. Fiddle froze in place. There was a loud crash from the ceiling and two ropes thrown down. The warrior on Dunnin returned attacks and the dwarf attacked Darian. Fextor appeared behind the dwarf as he grabbed her. Sully attempted to dispel the earth creature. It didn't work. Alya fascinated the warrior fighting Fiddle with song.

Vlad drew his axe. He chopped into the mound of earth. Sparks flew. Dunnin continued to hold his own with the warrior. Darian killed Fiddle's opponent. And Chloe grabbed the half-orc and began to crush the life from him. Fiddle watched.

The Earth creature pounded Vlad. Two large trolls in metal armor slid down the ropes. The dwarf struggled against Fextor. But clearly living in the underdark and not having been around a female of the species had emboldened the dwarf. He held her firm from behind. The half-orc too couldn't escape the bear druid.

Fextor applied his manacles to the dwarf female. "Gotcha," he said as he dumped her on the ground.

Sully called a ball of lightning on one of the trolls and the earth creature. Alya sang words of encouragement.

Vlad hacked and tumbled free of combat. He fled to the altar. Dunnin fought on. Chloe dropped the half-orc and called down a storm of fire on the trolls and earth creature. The earth melted back into the ground. Darian followed with a call to his god for fire. Both trolls smoked, but were still clearly active. Fiddle snapped out of it.

A cackling goblin appeared mid-air behind the trolls he tossed a small bead of flame at Alya, Fiddle, Chloe, and Vlad plus the half-orc. It detonated with a boom. The half-orc was cooked. Fiddle and Vlad escaped injury. But Alya and Chloe were burned some. One troll advanced on Dunnin and the other towards Alya and Fiddle. The dwarf struggled to no avail.

Fextor moved to help Dunnin. Alya moved behind Chloe.

Sully approached the goblin. "Come here my friend." The goblin ignored him.

Vlad dropped his axe and drew his bow. He fired in rapid succession. The goblin fell to the ground riddled with arrows. 

Dunnin killed the other warrior. "You were no better than your brother."

Chloe reached over Fiddle and grabbed the troll. The troll clawed back breaking the grasp. Darian called on some magic to heat metal. The armor of the dwarf and trolls. Fiddle attacked the troll. He scored a few nice scratches. 

The troll attacked Chloe. The other attacked Dunnin. Fextor moved forward and sliced the troll. Alya fired his bow at the other one.

Sully turned his attention to the last of their foes. He called 3 flaming rays into being. One burned the head off the Troll with Chloe and the other two dropped the troll on the dwarves.


----------



## diaglo

*Kill things and take their stuff.*

"Take it off, take it off," the dwarf woman screamed. A smell of burning flesh permeated the air. She bore the wounds from the goblin's fire spell also.

"Dismiss the spell, Darian," Dunnin reminded the cleric.

"She is evil," Darian countered. "The arrows exploded when they hit her. She is part of the cult of Moander. They have desecrated this Temple to St. Thessina..."

Dunnin slapped the priest. "But you are good. Do the right thing."

Sully spoke to her. "Don't you want to help us?"

She did in fact seem very agreeable to Sully. Darian did as he was bade and dropped his spell. Feldrin had died during one of the other fire spells. Fextor removed the manacles and the dwarf picked up her shield and axe. It had the mark of Duergeddin. Alya pointed out a few other items of magic.

She was a sellsword. She told them where to find Brother Heth. What traps and floors to avoid. Other occupants of the temple and everything else she could. The names of the deceased. She agreed to guard her new friend Sully.

Fiddle healed Vlad, Dunnin, and Chloe and then healed the dwarf a little. Darian and Alya also cast a few spells of healing. Dunnin made sure the dwarf received some of the healing magic.

"Fifth floor then?" Alya asked. "It seems that is where the Sword lies... (chuckles)"

"Just watch out for the snake woman on the 3rd floor. And don't step off the stairs on the 3rd floor." Vlad reminded them.

Dunnin was already up the stairs and checking it out. Fiddle and Darian had looted a few offices on the main floor. A scroll, some holy water, and the stuff off the dead. Darian had a few more bone rings to get rid of.


----------



## the Jester

Ahh, the old faithful _heat metal..._


----------



## diaglo

*And the walls came tumbling down*

As Fiddle climbed the stairs, the dwarf woman exited one of 4 rooms on this floor. She carried a backpack and a few other items. She explained what would be found in the other rooms. The rooms of her now dead companions. Dunnin started the climb to the next level. Fextor, Vlad and the dwarf right behind. Alya, Fiddle, Sully, Chloe, the weasel, and Darian brought up the rear.

Debate about whether to check out 2 rooms on the 3rd floor was squashed as Dunnin and Fextor moved to the doors. The ceiling collapsed on them. A green layer of slime covered the stones too. Dunnin avoided it. Fextor wasn't so lucky.

"I warned ye," the dwarf said. "The snake woman is behind that door."

Darian moved forward and burned the slime away with magic. The party didn't open the doors. Fextor still needed some healing to restore his health. So Chloe called on her magic.

The 4th floor was now without a floor for the most part. The party continued to climb to meet Brother Heth and the Sword on the top floor.

Dunnin, Fextor, the Dwarf, Vlad, etc... single-file up the stairs.

"Perfect fireball or lightning bolt formation," Darian noted from the rear of the party.


----------



## diaglo

*The last stand of a desperate man*

By the time Fiddle and the others finally reached the fifth floor, Brother Heth was already in action. He called down a ball of flame on a piece of metal furniture behind the party. It looked like a large press. It exploded. Another metal contraption next to it was destroyed too.

Pieces sprayed out. The female dwarf had a large chunk embed in her left temple. She collapsed with a blank look on her face. Dead. Most of the party felt it too.

The roof... the roof.. the roof is on fire...

Alya greased the floor under Brother Heth. Vlad, Dunnin, and Fiddle engaged the him. He was standing on a balcony overhanging a deep gorge. A good 300ft drop. He did not have the Sword of Truth, Lies, and Stickytape on him. Sully contemplated whether or not he would get information from the man. In the end, he decided the risks outweighed the benefits. He cast his strongest spell.

"Vanish," Sully said. Brother Heth winked in and out of material form. He battled not to be disintegrated. He returned, but clearly shaken.

A bugbear appeared behind Vlad as it struck him with its morning star. Chloe called down a strike of fire killing it.

Brother Heth leapt from balcony. He blinked out

"Geronimo," Fiddle yelled as he followed.

"Fiddle?" Sully sped forward and over the edge after him. "There is a p..."

Dunnin jumped next.


----------



## diaglo

*Plane of Ooze*

Fiddle landed with a meaty splat. He rolled over just in time to see Sully do likewise. He started to pick himself up when Dunnin joined the fun.

Fiddle touched his brooch and gained elevation out of the muck. Sully assumed pixie form and flight too.

Dunnin pointed to tracks. The party followed them with their eyes and saw Brother Heth take flight over a small rise about 30 ft in the air.

"Oh, no you don't," Sully commanded. He cancelled Heth's spell.

"AAaaarrrrgghhh," the distant cleric shouted and then SPpplllooooshhh.

Dunnin picked his away around the bowl the party was in. An ooze form began to follow. Sully pulled Fiddle after the dwarf in the air.

A gray mist covered the air. They were in a cold dismal swamp. A light filtered thru the mist. Nothing looked familiar nor quite right. No sign of Brother Heth when the party finally reached his landing area. They hurriedly continued to higher ground.

At one point Fiddle joined the Dunnin in the trek. They both leapt clear of a large sink hole. A river of green slime blocked their path. Sully pulled out a wand and gave Dunnin and Fiddle the power of flight. They flew across the slime and continued to look for signs of life. A few buzzing insects and mangled plants were the only things they found.

After a time they found a large stone pillar and a small pool of almost clear water. This seemed like the best place to wait for it was slightly elevated.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

_Never, ever_ separate the party.  

 ... Back at the Chapel of St. Thessina, confusion reigned as the remaining party members couldn't figure out where Fiddle, Dunin, and Sully had disappeared to -- the assumtion that they'd either _feather fallen_ down the gorge, or _dimension doored_ away both proving false.

After exploring the remainder of the Chapel, and finding naught but the dwelling of the false priest, they decided to rest for a day so Darian could _commune_ with Lathander, and perhaps find a way to rejoin their friends.

Meanwhile, back in the swamp ...


----------



## diaglo

*Follow the yellow brick road*

The swampy weather got to Sully. He had some experience for caring for himself in the wilds, but not like the 2 rangers. The damp conditions, poor light, resting state, and the temperature near freezing began to take its toll. Fiddle and Dunnin huddled in close to keep him warm.

"What happens in the swamp," Sully shivered "Stays in the swamp."

It also made it easier for Sully to cast an invisibility sphere on them if needed. A hour or so passed. Fiddle heard some crashing and splashing. A ragged human appeared. He was armed with a stick. He approached the pool under the pillar and drank.

Dunnin fanned out one way and Fiddle the other to surround him. Sully clapped his hands and appeared by the water.

"Hello," Sully began nonthreatening. "I come in peace."

The human jumped to flee. But soon gave up when he saw he was surrounded. "Don't hurt me. I'll go back to Oz. Raoul is just a slave."

"Oz?" Fiddle thought. "I bet there is a wizard involved. Probably some path paved in yellow gold bricks with flying monkeys and...." out loud he said. "We ain't in Aber-Toril anymore, Raoul. Are we?"

Dunnin shared food with Raoul to get him to speak. Raoul went on to explain all he could about the surrounding land. The stones they were forced to mine. Dunnin had one. The Pactlords, a group of slavers, were in charge of the swamp. Some strange figure named Father Claw was one of them. Other hazards like giant turtles, a dragon, and rivers of slime and so much more. He also told them about the Black Manor. He mentioned Oz several times. Fiddle realized it must be the name of Raoul's overseer.

After eating and talking, Raoul edged away from the group and fled into the swamp. Sully made an attempt to convince him to stay, but it seemed fruitless.

The party huddled again and decided to take turns on watch.


----------



## diaglo

*The harpy slaver*

A couple hours later Fiddle heard more splashing. He woke Sully. Dunnin was already awake. A group of human-sized figures crept towards the party's hideout. A flying bird woman with a nasty whip and even nastier disposition drove them on.

As they crawled near the side of a rim the earth and sludge erupted. A large turtle grabbed one of the slaves and dragged him under. The others ran faster to the pillar.

When they finally arrived they drank greedily. The bird woman swooped in and chased them away. She cackled at their fear. She landed and eased herself into the pool.

Sully had had enough.

He stepped forward and waved his hands. The birdwoman vanished. A single bone ring fell into the water. The slaves ran.

"Wait," Fiddle shouted. "We aren't with them."

Dunnin reached in and retrieved the ring.

"We can use that to contact Darian," Fiddle said. "I did it once to some guy named Hetrick."

Dunnin put on the ring. He looked into the pool and took a drink. His wounds healed. He then concentrated on the water. An image of a sack appeared.

"Darian," the party yelled.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, well," Dunnin said removing the ring. "It was worth a try."


----------



## diaglo

*Aurora Borealis*

The night well day really, it never got dark enough for night, was long. The three of them huddled close until their bones began to creak and it became too uncomfortable. They got up to stretch. By all of their reckoning it was the morning of a new day.

"The others will be here soon," Sully said.

"Hopefully," Fiddle replied. "Maybe the snakewoman ate them."

"Shhhh," Dunnin hissed. "Something's coming."

The party looked around. A vulture demon hovered in the air.

Sully gave the party flight with his wand and then made them invisible. They took off back to their original landing place. With any luck Darian had figured out a way to get the others here.

The vulture demon squawked. Maybe it sensed the party. Maybe not.


----------



## diaglo

*Homeward bound*

From on high, Fiddle saw the others finish off an ooze. Fextor helped Alya out of the mess.

"Need any help?" Sully yelled down.

"We've got company coming in the form of vulture demons," Dunnin told the others as he landed.

"Good," Darian said. "We are leaving. This is not our plane."

A dark figure appeared in the air and continued in the direction the Fiddle et al had just left. A cold feeling of dread came over the group.

Darian mumbled a prayer and pointed to a rift in the air. The party stepped thru...

And exited on top of a large sand dune in the middle of a vast desert.

"I think I can get us home from here," Sully said. "Wherever here is."

"Anauroch," Dunnin spoke up. "Or that would be my guess."

"And I can take the others with me," Darian filled in.

A few minutes later the party once again stood near the Rose Altar in Tilverton. Debate began anew about where to go from here. Darian excused himself and spoke with the High Priest. Fiddle and the others headed to the Windlord's Rest and Grimwold's Revenge to get cleaned up and liquored up.


----------



## diaglo

*After party hangover*

"Who left this sock in my mouth?" Fiddle mumbled.

He looked around for the others. Bodies and near empty tankards were scattered everywhere. He rummaged thru his things. Funds were getting low.


----------



## diaglo

*An overcooked plan*

The next morning the party headed to the Rose Altar to collect Darian. A crowd massed near the steps to the place. A rather tall, bald, tatooed man in Red stood with 20 or so Lathanderite guards. They were at an impasse. Alya strode forward to get the skinny.

"Well met," Alya said by way of introduction. "I am Alya Silverleaf. And you are?"

"Stay out of this," the Lathanderite guard captain barked. "He is a Red Wizard of Thay. And he is walking around uninvited and unescorted."

"Penderghast of Thay," the wizard replied to Alya ignoring the captain. "I come seeking a great wizard I heard could be found here."

"Wizard?" Alya perked up. "Perhaps, I can help you. I know most of the practitioners here in Tilverton. The name?"

"Very well," Penderghast sighed. "I hate backwater towns. If only so I can get out of here sooner. Any help you may provide will be much appreciated. I'm looking for Magister Ozlo Sullygrub."

Fiddle whispered to Sully. "I heard this guy was looking for Dragon eggs back in Ashabenford."

The Latharderites started to get restless. So Sully strode forward. "I'm Sully."

"I pictured you would be taller," Penderghast remarked. He pulled a scroll from his robe.

The guards jerked.

"Perhaps, we should do this someplace less threatening," Sully asked.

The Lathanderites wouldn't let them inside nor let them leave. Darian was summoned. After a show of disdain Darian finally agreed to be responsible for the Red Wizard. The party took him back to the Windlord's Rest to talk.

The Inn was empty but for a family with several rowdy kids. The parents ate and talked while the kids got up to play.

"I'm Fiddle Skipstone," the little boy shouted as he chased his sister. "Alya, you are dead. You get to be a kobold now."   

The scroll was a recipe from Spugnoir. Penderghast wanted to know about the spell Sully created. The two of them quickly got into the hows and whyfors of cooking and spells to enhance meals.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

You haven't succeeded as an adventurer until you have groupies.


----------



## diaglo

*Happy trails*

"We are in a Rube.." Alya started to say.

"BREEYARK," Fiddle completed. "That's goblin for Hey, Rube."

The party needed to go to point X so they could get an object Y to complete task Z and then on to AA.

Sully, Alya, and Chloe took off on the fact finding mission while Fiddle, Vlad, and Fextor got back to drinking. Darian left for the Rose Altar. WHo knew where Dunnin was.

After several hours and many beers, Fiddle slumped over on the table. Later that evening Sully woke him to ask about some scales he was given.

"Half dragon, Half elf," Fiddle said. "Where'd you get 'em?" He passed out again before he heard the reply.


----------



## diaglo

*Round and round we go*

The next morning held new possibilities. Fiddle headed to breakfast chipper. Only to have his plans thwarted.

"If you agree to help me rid my grove of the vile menace Venom," Chloe said to the group. "Then I will help you with your goal."

"Dragon?" Fiddle chimed. "Did you.."

"No, Fiddle," Alya retorted. "We have to recover the Sword of Lies first. Then destroy the Grail. Then possibly find the ancient elven blade that will kill Venom. Before we go finding your dragon. Then head to the Hidden Vale for Sully. And that all starts with going back to the Plane of Ooze. But first Sully has to take us to the Chapel of St Thessina. Where we get to leap off the balcony and hope the portal is still there."

"But there is a Dragon on the Plane of Ooze," Fiddle beamed. "Father Claw."

"I'm staying here with Dunnin," Vlad added. "And I'm sure Darian won't be leaving the Rose Altar anytime soon either. Who knows what he is making."

So Sully took Chloe, Alya, Fextor, and Fiddle to the Chapel.

"We're going to the Chapel..." Fiddle started to sing, but ended up vomitting by the end due to the teleportation sickness and his hangover.


----------



## diaglo

*And away we go*

"Chitter, chitter, chitter," an angry fiendish dire weasel chittered  

Chloe got dressed up and down by the furry beast. The weasel agreed to wait for her return. The party entered the Chapel and ascended the stairs. The previous damage to the rooftop still showed. No one had been to the Chapel. And there were no signs of the snakewoman's comings or goings.

"Shall we?" Fiddle asked as he prepared to leap over the edge.

"A moment," Chloe said. "I can make it so we can travel as the air. I'll cast that when we arrive. Are there any other spells we should prepare?"

The party buffed up and then leapt into the portal.


----------



## diaglo

*Arcane Ooze*

The party landed in the muck. Chloe immediately began to cast her spell. Sully assumed pixie form. And then it happened. 

"Something is draining the magic from my brain," Sully screamed out.

"Me, too," Alya replied.

Fiddle noticed the ooze. Fextor charged forward with his stone axe. Fiddle drew his bow and levitated to safety. Sully tried his bolts of magic. No effect. Alya swore and fired his bow.

The ooze reached for Fextor. Chloe called on a lightning storm. Things got worse. It seemed to excite the ooze not harm it.

"Arrrgghhh," Sully yelled. "It did it again." He flew away. The ooze grew in size.

Alya fired another volley while repositioning. Fextor and Fiddle attacked. The damage they caused only seemed to be slowing the growth. The ooze reached for Alya.

Chloe assumed bear form and waded in to combat.

"NOoooo," Alya jerked. The ooze grew again.

"I'm free," Sully called. "Flee, Alya. Come this way."

Alya needed to kill this thing. The oathbow demanded it. The ooze beat about the poor bard.

Fextor and Fiddle provided some help. The ooze was shrinking but not hardly enough.

The party became air. And flew for safety. Alya hovered for a moment and contemplated finishing the battle. But that meant exposure again. He had lost his most powerful spells. Sully had lost some too. This trip was costly already and they hadn't even found Brother Heth yet.


----------



## diaglo

*Father Claw takes a drink*

Sully cast a spell so the party could communicate.

"We need a place to stop and heal up," Chloe said.

"Follow me," Fiddle answered.

He led them to the only place he knew that had drinkable water and solid land. To the Darkwell. As they got closer it was not empty.

A large black dragon drank from the font. The party pulled up short and waited. A few minutes passed and the dragon got its fill. It finally took off into the mists above.

The party hit the ground spellcasting. They became solid and went to work healing up at the same time reversing the process to become air again. Chloe and Alya worked on Alya while Fiddle tended Fextor.

Once in air form they took off for their objective. The Black Tower.


----------



## diaglo

*Assault on the Aerie of the Slavelords*

Just like the escaped slave said. Fiddle led them right to the black square tower. A scouting mission was the first order of business. Sully made the party invisible when they got closer.

Twenty feet tall, flat rooftop with windows spaced evenly around. Two dragonkin, Ssvalkor, circled the perimeter. The interior was pitch black from the side windows. Near the front gate two guard posts were full of Ogres. The back windows opened into a large throne room. Two voices could be heard but not understood.

The Ssvalkor came around. They reacted by sniffing the air. The party flew to the other side of the building and into one of the windows. The party made their way to the throne room. Brother Heth and the snakewoman chatted. A huge eight legged blue skinned reptile lay across from them.

It was a trap.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Yes, yes it was ... but it hasn't been sprung yet ... muah-ha-ha!

Edit: and stay tuned for episode 48, where our intrepid heroes learn that wandering the city of undead without a cleric is not wise, and that it really sucks when the other guy sneak attacks you!


----------



## diaglo

*The trap is sprung*

Brother Heth pulled down a sword from the wall. Several other nice blades remained mounted there. He concentrated. The party fled back under the door just as they assumed normal form.

"They are here," Brother Heth cried out. "Under that door. Zvithra call your pet."

Sully called on his magic to quicken the pace. His invisibilty spell still operated. An Ogre opened the door Fiddle guarded. Seven quick cuts later a bloody mess fell to the floor. The 3 remaining Ogre guards yelled in fear as Fiddle materialized over the victim.

A small, bat-winged, creature poked its head out another door, screamed, and quickly slammed it shut. Chloe assumed bat form and flitted to the window. Alya sang words of praise in Fiddle's ear. Fextor moved on the Ogres. He sliced into one. Two doors remained unchecked.

Sully cast another spell. Fiddle vanished again. The Ogres attacked Fextor. Fiddle made quick work of another Ogre. Chloe hung back. Alya sang for courage. Fextor finished his Ogre.

Sully repeated the spell on Fextor. The dwarf vanished. The last Ogre ran for his life thru the hallway passed Fextor, Fiddle, Alya, Sully, and Chloe. Fiddle and Fextor cut him as he ran. He opened the door to Brother Heth.

ZZZZzzzzzappppp

His smoking corpse hit the ground. Fiddle opened another door and went thru the room. The door opposite was open. Four more Ogres stood at the entrance. He charged into the fray and brought another one down.  Chloe swooped thru into the room with Brother Heth. The eight legged reptile stared at the door. She called on a storm of fire. It fell down on Brother Heth, the snakewoman, and the blue reptile. Alya sang again to Fextor. Fextor ran to Fiddle's side.

Sully called on his most potent spell. Brother Heth faltered and was no more. The snakewoman did not flinch. She still had help. The 2 dragons and now a large croc also entered the battle. She hit the party with a blast of her own special magic. The Ogres attacked Fiddle and Fextor. Chloe assumed bear form. Alya sang more words of encouragement to Fiddle. Fextor attacked the Ogres and watched for the Dragons.


----------



## diaglo

*Balls to the Walls*

ZZZzzzz BANG

Sully lowered the boom on the crowd with his normal flare. The last Ogres fell. The snakewoman writhed a little. And the blue reptile shivered. The croc was safe. The enemy retaliated. Fextor bled from many wounds. And the snakewoman called for her magic again.

Fiddle rolled up under the blue lizard and stabbed upwards. Chloe battled the dragons. Alya healed Fextor. Fextor brought his axe down on the blue lizard. It landed with a heavy thump barely missing Fiddle.

Sully unleashed a swarm of magical bolts. The snake woman's magic materialized. Six of the blades on the walls detached and attacked the party. Sully was the main target. Chloe and Fiddle next. The dragons assaulted Chloe and Fextor still. The croc tried for Fiddle. Fiddle moved on his hated foes. He cut up one of the dragons, but it hardly slowed. Chloe called down a blast of fire. The croc died. Alya vanished from sight and moved into a better position to help.

"Gotcha," Fextor grabbed the snakewoman. 

She smiled and her fangs dripped venom.

Sully tried to protect himself and the others, but the swords were no help. He risked all and cast another spell. It fizzled against the snakewoman.  She bit Fextor and slid free. The dwarf crumpled. The dragons roared and attacked Fiddle. The swords swung at the woman's command. Fiddle stood his ground. Another attack like that and he was finished. Still he was determined to go down swinging. He cut and cut and cut. The dragon bled but didn't die. Chloe bashed the other dragon. Alya fired into melee. The snakewoman collapsed. Fextor bled.

Sully fired another blast of magic. These dragons were tough. The swords hung still. The dragons clawed poor Fiddle. The lights went out...


----------



## diaglo

*Talking heads*

Fiddle woke to Chloe's healing paw.  He pulled out his wand and started the process of preparing for the reinforcements. He healed Sully and Fextor a little too. Alya gathered a pile of magical treasure. Sully also found a few things in one room. And Chloe in Bear form destroyed one potion and recovered a few gems and coins.

"I hope that is it," Alya exclaimed. "Lets get out of here."

"We still have the small winged critter at the end of that hall," Fiddle remarked.

Fiddle noticed one of the items recovered was a longhafted dagger with High Elven writing. He pointed it out. As Alya picked it up, it spoke in a youthful feminine pitch.

"You have saved me," it said. "I am Esmerelda... Yshella." Fiddle's ears played tricks on him.

Now in front of the last door, Sully called out, "Come out. We mean you no harm. Your masters are dead."

"You no hurt, Vern?" Vern begged.

"If you tell us what we want to know you are free to go," Sully tried. "Come out."

The door cracked open and Sully cast a spell.


----------



## diaglo

*Next stop home*

Sully became Vern's best buddy. He told the party all he knew and then some about the Quaan, the Pactlords, and the Black Manor. Esmerelda filled in the rest. Vern also had a stolen piece of a puzzle. Esmerelda was a Staff originally, The Staff of Shards. Vern's piece fit into place easily.

Vlad was given the Sword of Truth to wield. All agreed they wouldn't tell Darian or his church about it. Vern helped the party recover a few items from the Manor. He got to redecorate a few rooms with ooze. He wanted to travel with Sully after some discussion about what to do with him.

Alya activated his Bane medallion. True to her word, Cybil's bane took the party back to Aber-Toril. Somewhere in the Arch Woods near Archendale. Sully teleported the party to the Rose Altar. He went back for the others.

Darian had to vouch for the party once again. Vern it seemed didn't make many friends with his ooze-flinging nature.

They hiked to the Windlord's Rest to recover and sort out the loot. Vern went into the sewers to have some fun. Fiddle wandered over to Grimwold's Revenge to buy some more pearls for Alya and to work out a few things that bugged him.


----------



## diaglo

*A heavy burden*

Fiddle contacted his old friend Tristan. They got down to business and Fiddle eased his mind. It was like being around family again. Fiddle used the 3 emeralds he had picked up from Ashabenford to purchase 15 pearls for Alya. They would be available tomorrow. He was gonna give Alya a pearl necklace.  But then remembered Alya was a male now. It must be the ale talking. ... Fiddle shook himself and got back to the conversation. He pulled out a bone Quaan ring. One he had hidden in his haversack for months. One he had pulled off a dead Ogre Mage in the Banewarrens. He told Tristan all he knew about the Quaan, the Pactlords, the cult of Moander, and the White Banshee. He named names. Hedrack top of the list. Finnister, Fextor's evil twin. Father Claw the Dragon. and Chewpach Shaqore the Elder Beholder. Irae the drow priestess. He also told Tristan of the mephit, Vern. In case he needed someone to verify the information. After his long tale and his 4th or 5rh ale Fiddle's mind was calm. It felt good to get it off his chest. He bid farewell and went back to the Windlord's Rest for a nightcap and maybe a bedfellow.... but not Alya he told himself. She was a he now.

In the morning, Fiddle woke to a knocking. A young boy presented him with a note. Fiddle tipped him well.

"Your package is ready. I have some more information you may find interesting."

Fiddle showed the note to Sully as he explained, "I've acquired some pearls for Alya. I'll be right back."

Fiddle scampered across the way and picked up his pouch of pearls. He also found out a historian was interested in his gems. He was given directions to the workplace of Tellios Pryaster.

Fiddle returned to the party room. He deposited the pearls with Alya, who got right to work.

"I have an errand to run," Fiddle blurted. "If anyone wants to find out more about the emeralds... Oops.."

"I have the emeralds," Sully said. He checked. He did, in fact, have some from the Black Manor.

"No, not those," Fiddle started. "But maybe he did mean those. I had them with me last night. My contact says he has a buyer who is very interested in them. I sold him some others I had in exchange for the pearls."

"I'll go with you," Sully nodded. "Alya is going to be awhile. The others are still resting and it is a long day ahead of us."


----------



## diaglo

*The family jewels*

"The gems you possess have an interesting history or so I'd guess from our mutual friend's description," Prylaster purred. He held forth his hand.

"What is it you do?" Sully intervened. "Why are you so interested in them?"

"I am an historian," the merchant answered. "I deal in ancient elven art work and jewelry mostly. As of late I have been very busy. If you would allow me to see the emeralds I can confirm their worth for you. I have a buyer willing to pay top coin for them."

Sully handed over the gems. Prylaster examined them thoroughly. When he was done, he nodded.

"These are indeed what I am looking for," he said. "Where did you get them? And can you get me some more?"

"What are they worth?" Fiddle blurted out. "I know some people."

"What are they?" Sully inquired.

"They are the gems pried from some jewelry," the historian began. "Most definitely from around the time of Myth Drannor by the elven family Keleidsa."

"And they were," Sully egged on.

"They were a very influencial family," the historian fell right into the role of lecturer. "They helped make the crown jewels of Cormyr."

"The missing ones," Fiddle guessed. "We helped transport them... Oofff. Hey, what was that for?"

Sully removed his elbow from Fiddle's ribs. "Go on."

"I forgot you are well connected," Prylaster smiled. "Yes, the Crown jewels are missing. And a likely match for them is very, very, very hard to find."

"The Steel Reagent or Lord Hawklin," Fiddle said quickly and moved away from Sully before the elbow could strike. "That's your buyer. Isn't it?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Prylaster winked.

"I don't think we will sell," Sully said. "But thank you for the information."

"Not at all," Prylaster escorted them to the door. "But if you do have second thoughts you know where to find me."

"And you know how to contact us," Fiddle smiled. "If you need some other job done."

Fiddle left Sully back at the Windlord's Rest. He visited Tristan again. This time he got the whole story and a map. The Keleidsa estate was in the Arch Wood, Archendale. The price for recovery of enough gems was 1000 trade bars. Fiddle's mouth watered. But he knew he would have to wait. He strode back to the Inn.

The party had already decided to heal another day before heading to visit Cybil. Chloe had spoken to Esmerelda about her creation. Cybil would know more. Also the ancient elven gems and the Arch Wood placed them near Cybil's friend who had gone quiet recently. Fextor told Darian of their intended trip. He begged off. He was too busy. No sign of Dunnin.


----------



## diaglo

*The True Seeing*

The trip to Cybil's was short and to the point. Now that Sully could pop here there and everywhere. Alya, Fiddle, and Chloe went on the first trip. Vlad, Vern, and Fextor on the second. The Barrow Mounds were worse than before. The fog was nigh impossible to navigate now.

"Yikes," Vern squealed. He puddled where he stood and pointed.

The party looked. Nothing.

"Ummm," Fiddle whispered. "I'm no expert on the planes. But Vern there can probably see into other places. Remember the picture room back at the Black Manor he was so giddy about redecorating. I'm guessing the art we didn't see was actually elsewhere."

"Vern," Alya tried. "Can you see the ether or astral?"

Vern nodded and shook. He stared hard at some spot and tried to make himself smaller.

"This ain't good," Alya finished. "Astral or Ethereal Undead. Describe it, Vern."

"Big, very, very, very Big," Vern chattered.

"CYBIL," the party yelled. "We are coming over."

Sully fetched the boat and the party quickly rowed to the island. 

Vlad tried the new powers of the Sword of Truth. He stood still for a moment, concentrated, and then stared where Vern had indicated.

"Row faster," Vlad hissed.

Once ashore the party went to find Cybil. Her bone fence and hut were more alive than before. And inside Cybil was more agitated. And slightly infirmed.

"The Nightstalker didn't get you," Cybil noted. "Good."

"Uh," Vlad paused. "I'm gonna go get some air."

Fiddle and Fextor followed Vlad outside. "What's up?" Fextor started.

"The sword," Fiddle said. "What does Cybil look like really?"

"She ain't alive," Vlad nodded. "Probably hasn't been for many, many, many years. Where is Darian."

"Our first lich and she is elven," Fiddle laughed.

Some time later the others finally came back out.


----------



## diaglo

*Booze to kill the memory*

"Why didn't you come back in?" Alya asked.

"The Sword only tells the truth," Fiddle remarked. "Vlad saw the real Cybil. She is dead. Probably a lich."

"So?" Alya quipped. "We knew that already and just pretended not to care."

Alya filled in the rest of the story. Cybil had made Esmerelda from the spirit of a young dieing elf maiden. It was the reason she was kicked out of Myth Drannor. It left only the party going back to Maerimydra now. Sully would make two trips to Tilverton. But they had to go back across the water first. Cybil had a dimensional anchor which prevented him from using his teleportation spell.

The party worried about the Nightstalker. They rowed over quickly and hopped ashore. Fiddle, Alya, and Vern found themselves in Tilverton. Vlad, Fextor, and Chloe were left behind.

Fiddle ordered a round of drinks. Just as they were served the others arrived. Shaken and stirred. The Nightstalker had appeared.

On the morrow the party planned to visit the drow city. Tonight, they drank and celebrated.


----------



## diaglo

*Party peril*

The party decided on visiting the cave outside of Maerimydra. Sully gave them darksight and then dropped off Fiddle, Fextor, and Alya. He went back for the Vlad, Vern, and Chloe. Darian stayed in Tilverton. And Dunnin was... well off spending 2000 platinum pieces Fiddle guessed. That was a lot of Ale and Whores by his reckonin'. They waited a few moments and no sign of the others. Fiddle started to worry. Perhaps they had been shifted into one of the walls by the weird change in magic. He poked around a bit. Finally, Sully appeared.

"Uhm," Sully blushed. "This is the wrong cave. The others are back near Maerimydra."

"Yeah, I just discovered that," Fiddle whispered. "We are in the territory the dracolisk calls home."

Sully popped them back to the others. They quickly decided on Goblin forms for the next visit to the gate. A little while later they found out it was unnecessary. The Giant Guards were gone and the gate lay in ruins. From this vantage point it was clear the Giant's Army was losing. There were very few fires now burning. And those were mostly clustered around the Coliseum and the Castle. Luckily it was still foggy and hid most everything in the air. The party scrambled down to the city proper. Fiddle covered their tracks with a spell. They crossed in secret as best they could. They stayed near the buildings and avoided the open roads. There path took them thru the heart of the city. Under the terraced nobles lands. Passed the destroyed Temple to the Spider Queen. And up to the Main Street. It was here that their bad luck turned worse.

Three figures leapt from the rooftops and surrounded Fiddle. They struck with precision and malice. The Ghoul gang. Smoke trailed from their long tongues. Vern screamed and flew away. Fiddle tumbled and ran for cover to draw them out. Unfortunately, there was another one behind him too. The party reacted too slowly. Chloe backed into a building. A great pillar of flame descended into the area of one of the ghouls. Vlad ducked the flames while Alya scrambled for safety.  Alya cast a spell to hide. Fextor hacked into the nearest Ghoul. Three of the ghouls pulled Fextor limb from limb. The fourth chased Fiddle. Sully fired off his strongest spell. The ghouls took note. Vlad moved aside, sprang into the melee and then ran. 

Vern fired off his only weapon. A blob of ooze. It hit the pavement. Fiddle sliced his foe. Chloe called on some more magic inside the building. The ghouls surrounded the gnome and ripped him apart. Alya bent down touched the body and vanished.  Vlad sprang forward again, attacked, and retreated.

Vern ducked down and tried to call a friend. Fiddle broke and ran. As fast and as hard as he could back for the exit.

"Bad luck, bad omens," Fiddle thought. "I shoulda stayed in Tilverton this morning."

He ran so long and far he forgot to keep track. As he reached the top by the gate he looked back. A flying creature descended and landed next to him. In its claws it held Fextor. Chloe in bird form also landed. The flying creature vanished. Chloe became human. Alya appeared a few moments later wtih Sully. The party hurried back to the cave. Vlad caught up to them and helped Chloe with Fextor.

"We need Sully back if we are ever going to see the light of day again," Alya said.

"He said he didn't want to come back," Fiddle reminded them. "But would as long as his quest wasn't complete. I guess it's time to test that."


----------



## diaglo

*Hot Halfling Dragon 285 cha 21*

In the morning, Chloe broke out the ointments and tended to Sully and Fextor. She called on her magic. A risky thing so close to the trouble and necromancy taint.

Where once a gnome male in his prime....POOOFFfff

a female hin. a very hot female hin.

Fiddle's mouth began to drool. "WoooooHooooooo," Fiddle exclaimed. "Thank you, Brandobaris." 

Where once a dwarven male in his prime.... PPPppooooofffFFf

a dwarven male in his prime...

"Oh, you cruel foul gods," Alya hissed. "A curse. I swear it is a curse. Lets kill him and bring him back again."

Fiddle examined the two for any other lingering effects. Both he and Chloe had suffered a little at the hands of the ghouls. Fiddle's was a short course. However, Chloe's fever still lingered. She healed herself with magic.

"Fiddle," Sully said. "You can remove your hand from my backside. And you can start calling me Ozzy now instead I guess."

Ozzy and Fextor gathered their things. Ozzy then returned the party to Tilverton. It would be at least a day to recover and get healed.

Chloe told the two of the rescue. The druid had slain 3 of the ghouls from afar. Just enough to recover Fextor's body.


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Does the party dare brave the dreaded Maerimydra again, without a cleric?

They're heroes ... you bet they do!


----------



## diaglo

*A mixed bag of healing*

After healing up the party debated long and hard about the next step. Fiddle tried unsuccessfully to convince them not to go below again without a priest. Besides Alya had an idea about where to get a competent cleric. He asked Fiddle for information on the ones he knew. Fiddle rattled off a bunch of facts. Valgrim of Lathander was out. Now a bodak in a bag. Sir Richter Belmont of Kelemvor was low on the list. Alya still held a grudge. That left the Tyrians. Marcus of Tyr, a paladin, of the order last worked with the Stormslayers months ago. The Abbey of the Goldensheaf was outside Ashabenford. A priestess of Chauntea... maybe. The Temple to Tyr in Ashabenford... Gond the Wonderbringer in Tilverton.. no more gnomes...

It was decided to go to Maerimydra when the party was ready. Ozzy told the party of her intention to return home for a day. Alya, Vlad, and Fextor begged for a lift to Ashabenford to get the help they needed. Fiddle gave everyone their share of treasure.

Chloe and Fiddle headed to the Temple of Silvanus. Fiddle wanted the ointments necessary to restore life for the next failed mission. He also sought another wand.


----------



## diaglo

*Songs from the Wood 1977*

Fiddle hung out in the grove while Chloe stepped aside with the head druid Ahearn. He began to sing a song from the Bard Jethro Tull that he remembered from his youth.

_Have you seen Jack-in-the-Green?
- With his long tail hanging down.

He quietly sits under every tree
In the folds of his velvet gown.
He drinks from the empty acorn cup.
The dew that dawn sweetly bestows.
And taps his cane upon the ground -
Signals the snow drops, it's time to grow

It's no fun being Jack-in-the-Green:
No place to dance, no time for song.
He wears the colours of the summer soldier;
And carries the green flag all the winter long.

Jack do you never sleep - does the green still run deep in your heart?
Or will these changing times, motorways, powerlines, keep us apart?
Well, I don't think so.
I saw some grass growing through the pavements today.

The Rowan, the Oak and the Holly tree
Are the charges left for him to groom.

Each blade of grass whispers, "Jack-in-the-Green."
"Oh Jack, please help me through my winter's night."
And - "We are the berries on the Holly tree:
Oh, the Mistle Thrush is coming. Jack, put out the light!"_

As he finished the druid Ahearn handed him a Golden Earring.. Acorn and asked him to find the lost elven temple Eliar had droned on and on about back at Peldan's Helm. Fiddle excused himself and went into the sewers to find another friend. He would name this one Handle.


----------



## diaglo

*French Frogs and English Macguffins*

Fiddle pulled out a large wheel of moldy cheese. He waited for a new friend. Since he had time he also pulled out a wineskin.

"Wine and cheese?" Fiddle thought. "Perhaps, I can attract a Frog. Nah, they are too uppity and besides they surrender at the first sign of battle."

Hours lapsed and finally a swarm of rats helped Fiddle polish off the wine and cheese. One of the creatures stayed behind. Fiddle showed him a few tricks. He was smart and took to them easily. Maybe, he belonged to some other fallen adventurer. Fiddle didn't stick around to find out. He lured Handle out of the sewers and back to the Windlord's Rest.

Chloe had a new black panther. After some debate with the others it was decided to leave the panther behind with Ahearn at the grove of Silvanus. The Underdark was no place for such a beast. Although, Fiddle imagined himself using two scimitars and calling the creature if ever Chloe fell. Alya had recovered Pony from Ashabenford. Vern had to be convinced to stay behind and watch the sewers. Vern had called some friends of his own kind. He was happy in Tilverton. The party rested.

In the morning, Sully prepared the party. First a disguise. Drow and undead goblins with his spell of _Seeming_. Next he gave everyone the ability to see in the dark. And then a trip. Sully took Fiddle, Handle, Alya, and Vlad. Chloe, Fextor, Marcus of Tyr, and a shrunken Pony came next.

Once regrouped they headed to the undead drow city of Maerimydra once again. Undead Fiddle tried his best to lumber along. He got bored with only being able to grunt. So he alternated between lumber mode and shuffle. He took one glove off and did a little slide.

"When you face the hounds of Hell..."  Fiddle heard. "Who said that?"

"Cuz this is Thriller..."


----------



## diaglo

*Knock, knock*

The party covered nearly the entire city. They went from collapsed front gates thru the mushroom fields, down the ruined alleyways of the city proper, up onto the nobles' terrace, down to the lake, back into another mushroom field, and to the very back entrance to White Castle. The fires were low around the Coliseum and barely burning at the front of White Castle. Kargoth and his army would not last much longer.

No sign of the drow resistance the party had allied with before. Fiddle told everyone the password again. They all doubted it would still work. Even Fiddle knew it, but it was the only bit of information he had to offer.

The party approached the back door. The way they had entered the last time inside White Castle. It appeared to Fiddle from the tracks that patrols still used this door.

Alya stepped forward....

A blinding flash of light and a stumble followed by a manical cackle from Alya. Some trap had claimed him. A symbol blurred on the door.

"You have chosen poorly," a male drow said from behind the door.

"Only the penitent man shall pass," Fiddle whispered.

Arrows fired out from the guards and battle was joined.

Fiddle ran forward and disarmed the trap. He saw a whole room full of guards and one strange figure, an obvious caster.

"For Tyr," Marcus yelled and bounced off the door.

Ozzy disintegrated the door and part of the wall. The caster unleashed on the party with a ball of fire. The guards followed with a volley of arrows. Vlad returned fire. Fextor tackled Alya. Chloe hung back with Pony, the doorway was too crowded.

Fiddle tried to enter the room using the password. He was thrown back. He recovered and stood defensively. The drow laughed. Marcus backed Fiddle up by blocking the other side of the doorway.

"Let me dispel the magic," Sully said. The magic fizzled. "Blast. It didn't work. I'll try again."

The caster hasted his men. And more arrows sailed into the party. Vlad returned fire. Fextor manacled Alya and beat him unconscious. Chloe healed Fiddle.

Fiddle again stood vigilant. Once Ozzy dispelled the magic he would cut the drow to very small pieces. Marcus likewise waited. Ozzy tried again and failed.

Several bolts of magic struck Fiddle. "Oh, he is going to pay for that," Fiddle thought. "Where is that brooch when you need it. Ozzy. Ozzy is wearing it."

One drow ran from the room. Another volley of misses. Vlad fired again. Fextor tied Alya over Pony's back. Chloe healed Fiddle.

"We need to do something," Marcus said. "Our chances of surprise are ruined. And it may not be wise to enter now."

Sully cast a wall of acidic fog into the room. The drow screamed but were obscured from view.

After a few moments pause, the party retreated back into the city to discuss strategy.


----------



## diaglo

*No rest for the weary*

Chloe and Fiddle covered the party's scent and tracks with magic. They found a good defensive position in one ruined building. The building was mostly whole with a roof and two door openings. Fiddle used another spell to warn him of approaching enemies. Ozzy likewise danced around the perimeter of the building. Ozzy's spell was more effective versus living intruders. After the watches were established. Ozzy sent her familiar to hang out near the back door of White Castle. Ozzy had a bat.

A few hours later, Fiddle and the party awoke to the alarm except Alya and Pony.

WWWwwwwwhHHhhhOOoooooPPppp

They grabbed their weapons and...

Three of the nasty ghouls entered the building. They slapped Vlad and Fiddle. Fiddle returned the favor. Stab, stab, slice, slice, stab, slice. Mire flesh wounds all. Sully blasted the same ghoul. Large hunks of flesh vanished, but it still remained. Fextor waded into combat naked against the other two. He attacked with his axe. Marcus of Tyr and Vlad also joined the melee. Vlad chopped with his axe. Marcus called on Tyr to guide his blade and help Fextor. Chloe called out to Nature for aid.

The most injured ghoul tried to attack Fextor from his exposed backside. Vlad and Fiddle cut it to pieces. The other ghouls hammered Marcus and Vlad. Fiddle moved into a better position to help his friends and protect the unconscious Alya. He stabbed into a ghoul and distracted it. Sully blasted it. The magic sailed wide and destroyed a large section of wall right behind Marcus of Tyr. Fextor chopped again, followed by Marcus and Vlad. Another ghoul crumpled to the ground. Chloe's call was answered by 3 wolves. They attacked the ghoul while Chloe healed the wounded Vlad.

The ghoul lunged at Marcus. Fiddle, Fextor, Vlad, and Marcus soon had it in pieces. Sully cast invisibility on Fiddle.

Fiddle went to check for other trouble. He found another pack of the ghouls not too far away. When he got back to report the party had sorted out their site again. This time they took even more precautions. They needed the rest otherwise Chloe would never get Alya back to health.


----------



## diaglo

*Old habits die hard*

Fiddle reminded everyone of the demon fever the ghouls carried. Marcus cured the injured. A few uses of his wand and a dabble or two from Chloe and the party was whole again.

Nothing else bothered them. On the last watch Ozzy got a message from the bat. She quickly told the others the new password. T'ssarran.

A reapplication of a few spells later and the party set off again for White Castle. This time they would assault the upper level. The heights of the place. The dangling Tower. But Alya reminded everyone of the Balor and Vrocks. So just for safety's sake they went invisibly, silently, and flew with the expenditure of one of Ozzy's many wands.

The tower had bars. Fextor swung awkwardly with his axe and barely made a mark. So he leaned back and really put his back into the blows. The bars fell free and plummetted to the cavern below.

Alya removed the cone of silence.

"T'ssarran," Fiddle whispered and tumbled into the room. No traps. He waved to the others.

One by one everyone entered. All but Pony. The Large lizard got the shock of its life because it could not say the password. It scurried to the side of the window and decided to stay attached there. Fiddle assumed it could climb on the ceiling and would eventually find a way down.

Fiddle pulled out his maps. He mentioned what the next rooms held and what they had fought. Khumarr had left White Castle with the party in a body bag last time so it left the question of who replaced him in the chain of command.

The party climbed the stairs, scouted the next level, searched the rooms, meandered around the entryway, and eventually decided they must face off again in the temple room against the priestess and her monk, assassin, vampiric lover/bodyguard. So up to the next level they went.

At the top of the stairs Marcus of Tyr met a bastion of evil. An undead blood-sucking demon with four arms the size of an Ogre. The demon laughed when Alya tried to convince it the party was meant to be here.


----------



## diaglo

*One down, two to go*

Chloe tossed some diamond dust on Marcus and mumbled a phrase. Fiddle launched his dagger, Ice. It struck the Demon. Marcus charged forward and engaged the creature. It battered him as he closed. His sword struck flesh. Vlad also sprang forward, hacked, and sprang aside. Alya sang. Fextor and Ozzy tried to join the battle. It was a task to avoid all of the bodies. Ozzy cast a few bolts of magic. Handle tailed Ozzy.

Chloe tossed more dust this time onto Fextor. Fiddle closed the distance. The demon swung over his head. He stabbed with no visible effect. The demon attacked Marcus. It knew Fiddle could do nothing to it. Marcus called on Tyr and chopped again and again. Vlad darted past with another swing. Alya tried a volley of arrows. Fextor struck out with his Greatsword. Ozzy tried more bolts of magic.

Chloe called on nature for assistance. The magic failed. Fiddle stabbed, slashed, stabbed, slashed, stabbed, and slashed. He did nothing. The demon wailed on Marcus and tried to stare at Ozzy.  Marcus once more called on Tyr. His next series of blows brought the demon down.

The party let out a big sigh of relief. They had little time to think. Fextor opened the door to the temple. A not to different sight from the last time they visited. The priestess and the vampire were inside. The altar was still destroyed, but the walls showed improvement.


----------



## the Jester

Can you post everyone's class and level please?

Seems like you guys are getting pretty powerful...


----------



## diaglo

the Jester said:
			
		

> Can you post everyone's class and level please?
> 
> Seems like you guys are getting pretty powerful...




Fiddle Skipstone: lightheart/strongfoot halfling male Rogue 4/ Ranger 6/ Dragonslayer (Homebrewed PrC) 4
Chloe Hartspur: half-elf female Druid 14
Ozzy formerly Ozlo Sullygrub(Sully): strongheart female Sorcerer 13
Alya Silverleaf: deep halfling male Bard 10/ Arcane Archer 4
Vlad Greycloak: human male Rogue 7/ Fighter 6
Fexter Stoneblood: shield dwarf male Ranger 1/ Fighter 5/ Monk 2/ Justiciar 5 
Dunnin Anvilgate: shield dwarf male Rogue 6/ Ranger 7
Darian Dawnguard: human male Fighter 2/ Cleric 6/ Morninglord of Lathander 5

former PCs now NPCs still alive:
Marcus of Tyr: human male Paladin of Tyr 12 or so
Richter Belmont: human male Fighter 4/ Cleric of Kelevmor 6 or so/ Hunter of the Dead ?
Erik: human male Fighter ? / Rogue ?

former PCs now confirmed dead:

Valgrim
Calrom

former PCs now NPCs lost in the world fate unknown:

Arendel human female Druid 12 +
Alrissian elf male Archer Ranger
Erin human male Monk / Sorcerer of the Old Way
Elwood human male Bard
Pepto halfling female Rogue
Bernie human female wizard
Veridian elf male Rogue / Fighter

and a bunch more NPCs who died with the party and were brought back or left dead. but they were NPCs to start and remained so. this doesn't include the majority of the first party slain by the drow. (Bartol, Thane, Ulfgar)


----------



## diaglo

*Vaporous Vampire*

"I told you, Mistress," the vampire hissed.

"They will show me proper respect this time," the priestess purred. "Kill them."

Ozzy reacted first. She quickly sped up the party's actions with magic. Fextor winked at Fiddle. He then ran forward and tackled the priestess. Vlad and Fiddle followed suit. They surrounded the wrestlers and stabbed at vulnerable spots.

The priestess struggled to be free. Nothing doing. The vampire got angry. He stared at Vlad. "Kill the dwarf."

Alya tried to counter the vampire's influence with song. He failed. Chloe also tried to call for aid. The magic failed. Something about the place prevented summoning. Marcus engaged the vampire.

Ozzy placed a barrier behind the vampire to prevent it from fleeing. Fextor dragged the priestess away to a closet all the while pounding on her. Fiddle stabbed her again. He followed them. And stabbed again and again and again and again and...Vlad chased Fextor. He stabbed the dwarf. Some of the injuries were protected by the diamond dust. The priestess tried for freedom again. It earned her another beating. The vampire fought back against Marcus. The diamond dust was still effective.

Alya snapped Vlad out of his stupor. Chloe joined the battle. Marcus hacked at the vampire.

Ozzy fired off some magic at the vampire. It fizzled. Fextor moved to the closet. Fiddle and Vlad ended the struggling drow's life.  Fiddle and Vlad closed on the vampire.

"I have failed you, Mistress," the vampire moaned. It became gas.

The party tried to attack the gas. Ozzy even cast another barricade. But it all failed as the gas seeped into the floor and was gone.


----------



## diaglo

"We must hurry," Fextor said. "He is sure to get reinforcements and alert the rest of the Castle to our presence."

Fiddle and Vlad checked the only door they hadn't opened before. The one the priestess had escaped thru their last visit. It was free of traps. And it wasn't locked. Fiddle opened it. A corridor with a big ball of flame in the center. How far it stretched no one could see because of the flame.

When no one made a move to do anything else Fiddle shrugged his shoulders and entered the hallway. He approached the ball of flame.

"It's not real," he thought. "It's not..."

A ball of gas spewed out of the flame and engulfed Fiddle. He held his breath and exited back thru the door.

"I don't feel so well," Fiddle choked. His eyes burned and his body started to shake. His health deterioated almost instantly. Chloe stepped forward and cast several spells on him. He regained his colour.

"Poison," Chloe said in the end. "A very nasty poison."

Ozzy dispelled the ball of fire. Behind it was a large metal structure. Not too unlike ones the party had fought in the Spirals. A metal golem. But this one was larger and denser.

"No way around it," Alya noted.

"I'll get us by," Fextor claimed. He spit in his hands and grabbed his axe. Three steps into the hallway and the golem spewed more gas. Fextor swung his axe. It left not even a scratch. He backed away.

"Well that didn't work," Vlad remarked.

A few moments later, Fextor coughed up blood. Fiddle gave him an antitoxin. Chloe went to his side. It was too late. The dwarf fell over dead.


----------



## diaglo

*Melted dreams*

"I've got an idea," Ozzy chimed. She pulled out a wand, aimed for the golem, intoned the command words, and waited with the others to see the results.

A glob of acid struck the golem. It hissed and dissolved a little of the thing. Fiddle followed up with a flask of acid. A little more of the metal gone. Ozzy called her acid fog into place. Minutes passed. The party put the stripped drow priestess and the demon's bodies into the fog. When it lifted the golem was still there. It was gonna take more than they had it seemed.

Fiddle hurled some more acid and Vlad too. Ozzy used more fog. More minutes. And still the thing stood. But it wouldn't for much longer.

Fiddle ran out of flasks. And Ozzy contemplated the wand, but went with the fog again.

The last fog worked. It was nearly 40 minutes since the party had fought the vampire. They crossed the hallway to another door. Fiddle checked it. Unlocked and trap free. He opened it.







Bad to worse it seemed.


----------



## diaglo

*Crowded thoughts*

Looking inside the evil cave cocoon Fiddle saw a massive black sphere with a bony temple curving up around one half of it coming to a point. He figured out the cocoon was outside of the Forbiddance. He asked Chloe to summon a critter to test his theory. It worked, but the raccoon died when it came to Chloe at the door. Fiddle asked Marcus to use the
sword to look at the place. The paladin described another spiral. He also said he saw no hidden monsters at first. Ozlo went to study an area for an hour just to the right of the entrance. During that time a voice contacted her. She told the others. Marcus and Fiddle followed as protection. Marcus used the sword to see. Chloe summoned a unicorn as backup. The others looked for entrances to the temple. They found none. The voice promised Ozlo a way in "For a price". Marcus reported seeing a ghostly knight on a nightmare stick its head out. Alya searched the temple wall. A blast of energy washed over him and an archway appeared. We decided to teleport back to the Rose altar. Fextor, Chloe, and Alya went first. The teleport required a  lot out of Ozzy to overcome the faerzress.
When Ozlo teleported back to the temple cocoon she missed, twice. First she was outside the underground ocean near the Giants. Then she was on top of a ziggarut with Blipdoolpoop on top. An army of fishmen prayed to it below. Ozlo 'disappeared' and shouted out "The great Goddess commands you to attack the Drow!" in draconic. Then used her last teleport, successfully, to return to the Rose altar.
In Tilverton Alya identified some items after the head priest booted us out till morning. So we rested 8 hours. Vlad, Marcus of Tyr,and Fiddle figured out they were not getting saved, so they moved to the Anti-Paladin's bedroom in the hanging tower (near where we came in through the observation deck) They barricaded the door with furniture. In the morning some voices in Undercommon pounded and tried to break in the door. Potions were used for darkvision and alter self. - into Drow. Then two drow were let in. The bluff was: The Anti-paladin had lost his voice (Marcus could not speak Drow) The two drow clerics bought it - and then were killed. The three went back to the Evil Temple.
Ozlo succesfully teleported back to the temple, turned invisible , got blasted by the forbiddance when looking for the others and found the three survivors in Drow form. They were pretty obvious. Then all four teleported back to the Rose Altar where Alya was restored and Fextor raised. The rest of the day the whole team rested and figured out what to do. They also caught up with Verd. Some people in the sewers, giant crocs ate some little guy, and a guy in purple
cloak...
In the morning the party went back to the Temple via teleport - this time with Alya inspiring competence every time. For a better chance at success Ozzy used the headband instead of the cap. The spellcasters went first, who had a better chance of survival. Fiddle and Chloe were brought to the temple. Three drow revenant priestess guards, 2 of which Fiddle and Vlad had killed the day before, were there and combat began. Ozlo and Alya teleported back only to end up on the Underdark bridge with
some ogres nearby (where we charmed the Giants near Shadow?dale). Then they made it back to the Altar. Fextor, Vlad, and Marcus were picked. Ozlo tried to teleport them back to the combat at the temple. SPLASH! There were sinking fast in dark water. Darkvision was cast, and Ozlo turned into a Nixie. Marcus almost died this time. During this time Fiddle and Chloe finished off the three guards.
Then the other 5 went to a multi-level chamber with tubes up and down - a beholder's lair. All magic was suppressed during the stun phase. The beholder combat went on awhile, but Ozlo hurt it pretty good with some scintillating spheres. I think she actually killed it. During the battle Fextor was lost down one of the tubes so he went exploring. (smashed some statues he found). So long had passed the other combat at the Temple was forgotten about. The beholder's lair was explored and looted. Some gold bars and gems plus a wand. THis took a good hour or more. Alya was out of inspire's by this time, but Ozlo actually teleported the everyone back to the temple at long last. Finally, the team entered the Temple. Fiddle paid the toll price this time opening the door again. Inside was a ghost. The mire sight of the ghostly knight caused Alya and Ozlo to be drained considerably. The others reacted and scared away into the floor. As it departed the party got blasted with a horrid wilting feeling. Chloe mass healed everyone. Two rooms were explored. A door to the basements was
found, but not gone through. Instead the team went up the stairs. Second floor was wierd. The room was split 1/2 way in 1/2 by a wall behind the stairs.
Behind it was a medusa. She turned out to be a he. Lots of combat here with the medusa killed
in the end. Only Marcus, Fiddle, and Fextor involved due to the medusa casting a wall of force. At one memorable point a shadowdancer Drow popped into the room, but immediately turned to stone before it could sneak attack
- hilarious pose. A few minor magics recovered.
Two bedrooms were found in the 2nd level - one for each of our foes. Maybe a kitchen. On one side of the 1/2 wall behind the
stairs a murky portal led to another realm. Marcus could see it with True Seeing. Another plane. 3rd level was richly decorated, but no magic or monsters. A triptych showed three female foes we might
meet - none were I-Ray who we heard about earlier. Fiddle ran back down
and explored the portal - he could float on the other side. On the
4th floor Marcus and Fextor said it was cold - but not really. It was
Negative Energy effect draining the life from those exposed. Alya was Death Warded and went exploring. Levels 4-6 had a piece of the inner walls cut out. The massive Negative Energy Sphere was built into the side of the Temple. 4-6 all had
Negative damage area effects. Alya was immune and kept heading upward. The level got smaller and smaller until the point at the top.The top had an archway bricked up - maybe a flying entrance now sealed?
One level down from the top Alya ran into the spirit of the Drow Priestess we had killed before. She had
come for revenge. It Wailed like the Banshee. Only Alya was still warded. She ran down back to the party and kept on going.
 But we remembered the 2nd ghost on the 1st level. The team went through the murky portal and into the Ethereal Realm. Marcus had pointed this out in the beginning - a 2nd temple in the Ethereal realm mirrored the 1st - only it hung upside down from the ceiling.
Gettiing progressively bigger and bigger as you go up. Flying up through holes in the ceilings, the Team went one floor up
(3rd floor). Beyond the negative energy field was in effect. Alya scouted again. She ran all the
way up to the 6th level, maybe farther. She was still under effect of the neg energy field so maybe 6th. On that level was a
very small room with a door. She opened it setting off a trap - Prismatic Spray. A red bolt hit and burn him. Inside the door was a vast bony temple in the Ethereal Realm. On a throne was the sole occupant - the drow priestess who was in the middle of the triptych picture - with a skull in one hand and a skull mask over her face.
Alya ran back down to the team. Then gave her report. Fextor thought we could take her alone in the room.
Ozlo was given a Bear's Endurance bringing her back up to normal health for the time being. A minute later they ran through the neg. energy effect. Back at the door Fiddle found no trap. He moved to open it. Fextor flew back at
the hole in the floor. He was the only one unaffected as the Prismatic Spray went off again.
Fiddle avoided a blast of electricity only to be turned to stone, Alya was turned to stone, Vlad was turned
to stone, and Chloe was turned to stone. The red beam hit Ozlo and burned her. And Death poison killed Marcus of Tyr. The
neg energy was still hurting Fextor and Ozlo. They had to think fast. Ozlo decided to teleport - ANYWHERE! One problem however. You can only bring what you can carry. The four statues would have to stay. Fextor deadlifted the paladin's dead body  with the Sword of Truth on it and Ozlo teleported back to the Rose Altar - only they are still Ethereal.


----------



## the Jester

My hat's off to Olgar.   

That's a pretty damn crazy story there, diaglo.  You never did get your chance...


----------



## howandwhy99

[_Found this after the great crash of May '06_]

Fextor dropped the dead paladin’s carcass and retrieved the Sword of Truth from it.

This was the end.  They had been on the verge of finally pulverizing that drow banshee witch when the crazy kender-fool tripped the doortrap.  Finister had been close… very close.  “What ‘n blazin’ Hells am I to do now?” thought Fextor to himself.  “Those dupes deserved to die!  They failed - failed to kill the drow, failed to get the grail, and failed me too.  Let ‘em rot!  …or crumble…”

He looked around him.  Fextor made out the hazy outlines of the human sun God’s temple in the overworld.  Ozlo had popped the two of them out at least.  But she was badly hurt.  The power of the evil death’s orb had drained her and the druid’s bolstering magic would soon wear off.  The little woman popped off the cap of her only vial of healing and gulped down the contents.  Fextor wondered if he should give her one of his own healing potions.   Her transportation ability was very useful.  He considered her new form for a second.  She didn’t look like the same person at all to him, the small gnome named Sully he had come to call friend.  The druid’s magic had transformed her… twisted the he to a she and the gnome to underling [the dark Halfling race].  This only served to remind him of his own transformation.

~ it had all started so well… his escape from slavery with the help of his new friends…. Sully especially had seemed trustworthy… and over a few weeks time they had traveled and fought by each others’ sides… until the one night when they were ambushed by the dark city’s ghoulish dead… both he and Sully fell… he went to Dwarfhome, which made no sense now… then both were called back from death’s end to the drow city by the druid woman…  Fextor had been fortunate: he was still a dwarf - no thanks to Moradin… but the curse of his new face rankled…  a mocking joke by the dwarven Gods no doubt… Finister would deride him endlessly for this… Sully, however, was now Ozlo…  another joke of course…  it at that point Fextor knew…   the gnome had enchanted him… the entire length of their friendship… plans of revenge brewed in his mind… the “friends” he thought he knew slowly, one-by-one cheated him… they were simply more overworlders trying to prove their Gods right…   he had decided to fool them until the time for revenge came…  they were still useful in reaching his brother… and they still believed the nonsense about him being a dwarven justiciar...   just as the drow had to his own detriment…  but then the kender tried to poison him… right after the golem’s breath…  when he died he went someplace very dark…  until he was blinded by the damnable sun priest... ~

“Fextor?”

The dwarf shook himself back to reality – or what passed for it currently.  “What are we going to do now?” Ozlo asked.  

Fextor looked around.  “Let’s get outta here.  This place is too damn bright.”  The two discussed where to go in the ethereal plane.  Eventually they settled on the Windlord’s Rest.  Fextor looked around the common room at the dim shapes sitting and drinking.  “Now the ale’s as thin as it tastes!” he jested.  The halfling didn’t laugh.

“I might have a way to get us back to normal,” said Ozlo, “but it’s going to be difficult.”

“Fine by me,” said Fextor.  He was already thinking of what to do once he had the woman alone.  Plans needed to made and quickly.  Revenge was finally at hand.

“But first… I want you to swear an oath that you will help me get the grail and finish the quest to save my grandmother.”

“What?” Fextor balked.  “Can’t we do that AFTER ya save us and change us back t’ normal?”  But he saw the resolve in the woman’s eye.  Something had happened.  Perhaps he had tipped his cards too early.  Ozlo was no longer oblivious to his schemes.

”No.  We need to take the oath now,” she answered.  “And we should swear to save our friends too and change them back from stone.”

Fextor could barely contain himself.  “What’s that!” he exclaimed pointing behind Ozlo’s shoulder.  “We’ve got company!”  Ozlo whipped around as Fextor took a fighting stance.  He reached out for the little halflng’s neck with her back turned.  “Now I gotcha!”  But he didn’t.  By some inexplicable twist of fate she had wrestled away.  In the next second she disappeared.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Fextor hung around, poised… waiting…  After a few minutes he felt sure Ozlo was gone, “for a while anyways.  She’ll be back, I’m bettin’.”  Fextor took stock of his food and items.  There was enough to last him three and a half weeks, but no means of contacting the other side.  

He began cursing himself for his stroke of bad luck.  “She was in m’ hands!  I swear!  If only I had her for just a half-second, I coulda held on for eternity.  Then she couldn’a gone nowhere without me.”  Fextor remembered back to the time when he fought the vulture-demon.  It had almost carried him away – back to hell he had thought – before he pulled away.  He felt sure he could have hung on to Ozlo.

“I should just taken m’ axe to her face,” he thought to himself as he sunk into the common room’s floor.  “I was gettin’ too soft.  I was startin’ to like ‘im again.”  Below the inn was a basement and then the sewers of Tilverton.  Ethereally he could neither touch nor smell his surroundings.  “Yep.  She’d have taken us anywhere, but in the end she woulda turned us back t’ normal.  Damn!  If she hadn’t ask me to swear tha oath.  What trickery!  She had this in mind all along, I bet.  That ex-gnome’s is vile as they come.  Sweet one minute, poison the next”  Fextor rose higher to keep his head above the sewage.  It was almost to the ceiling in most places.  He began floating down the pipe. 

“Ain’t no oath I’m takin’ for her benefit!  Like any one of ‘em was worth more than a spit in the wind.  And their own oaths even less.  Not a beard among ‘em!”  Fextor found a sewer junction and followed the combined flow down another tunnel.  “One bloody hand.  One grasp.  Then she woulda been make oaths… up and down fer all her breath.”  He recalled how he thought it would turn out.  Ozlo turning them to normal…  Then hiding in a sewer or hovel somewhere while he tied her up and strapped her to his back.  Not at first mind you.  First, he would have held onto her until she made a decision.  

Fextor blinked.  Two enormous otyughs battled in the tube in front of him.  They were larger than he imagined possible.  Remembering his state he scowled and charged headlong through them.  “Four.  Four choices.  And I woulda honored ‘em.  To the extent she deserved ‘em.”  Ozlo was to choose her destiny, but her life depended on her making her own oath… to Fextor.  “One, she could swear the oath… on her honor, on her life, and on her grandmama’s life to help me kill Finister.  Heck I would’ve even captured the grail and killed her grandmama for her outta kindness, if she’d have swore.  Then we would go and hire one some REAL warriors.  Ones willin’ to do whatever it took, t’ kill whoever needed killin.”

There was more movement ahead.  The sewage was picking up speed too.  “Two, she coulda just plain admitted that she and the others had failed.  Failed her grandmama.  And failed me.  Bigtime!”  Fextor clenched his fists.  “Then I would promise her a quick death – with the axe.”  More shadows moved up behind him.  Fextor saw spiders, large ones.  But these were not nebulous like the otyughs.  They leapt as Fextor changed direction moving into the stone above. “Or third, she coulda NOT admitted her failure and I coulda taken my time in killing her.”  He grinned menacingly as he floated up to street level near the edge of town.

“Or last…”  Fextor floated south a few yards above the street all the while scanning for spiders.  “I woulda offered her a chance for freedom.  To leave 1000’s of miles away from there.  And t’ promise never to return, not to look for me, her grandmama, and t’ ferget the sword of truth ever existed!”  That was to be the test Fextor knew.  If Ozlo had picked that choice, he would have killed her on the spot.  “Honorless curr!”

Fextor saw a figure jumping up and down at the watchtower as he floated over the town wall.  He was pointing at him.


----------



## diaglo

happy birfday, joe and ryan


----------



## Olgar Shiverstone

Ryan, we hardly knew ye.

But diaglo -- didn't you finish the story hour?  The last 5 months or so of game, including the conclusion of the campaign, appear to be missing.

Here's what the Dm's up to now ...


----------



## the Jester

I think it was lost in the crash. 

I too remember more than this, though...


----------



## diaglo

Olgar Shiverstone said:
			
		

> Ryan, we hardly knew ye.
> 
> But diaglo -- didn't you finish the story hour?  The last 5 months or so of game, including the conclusion of the campaign, appear to be missing.
> 
> Here's what the Dm's up to now ...



yeah, the crash took them.


----------



## the Jester

diaglo said:
			
		

> yeah, the crash took them.




You don't by any chance have them in Word or anything so you could just cut and paste, do you?


----------



## diaglo

bumping for joe and ryan's birfday coming up this week


----------



## diaglo

toasting you during Gen Con week Ryan.
hard to believe it has been just shy of 7 years.


----------



## diaglo

as planning for another Gen Con approaches i flash back to those i have gamed with and won't again while on this planet.

JoeBlank will be coming this year to GC.


----------



## diaglo

Strithe will be attending Gen Con this year. He played Vlad Greycloak in this storyhour. He gamed with Angelsboi too.


----------



## diaglo

Lost another gamer yesterday. Shayne Patrick played Darian in this story hour.
you will be missed, Bear.


----------



## diaglo

although, i didn't make Gen Con. i am there in spirit with most of you.
tipping back a few remembering gamers lost

Angelsboi - Ryan Boell
and this year Shayne Patrick.
miss you guys.


----------



## diaglo

didn't make Gen Con this year either.
gamed on Sunday and thoughts of previous gamers and campaigns still come up.


----------



## diaglo

happy birfday JoeBlank

and Angelsboi would have been 35 this year.


----------



## diaglo

having a drink in honor of those who have passed and those who still game at Gen Con.

miss you Ryan and Shayne.


----------



## diaglo

another year passes...


----------



## JoeBlank

Joining you now . . .


----------



## diaglo

can't believe it has been over 13 years for Angelsboi/Ryan. and almost 4 for Shayne. 

they are doing a memorial quilt at Gary Con for gamers gone. i will add their names.


----------



## diaglo

50 years of Gen Con.

9 years for Gary.

will be in Lake Geneva next week. will roll a few for those gone.


----------



## diaglo

will be sure to tip a few for gamers gone again this year. missing Gen Con. but glad i am not in that mess.


----------

