# The Friday Knights in Thunderspire Labyrinth (with Pics).



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Chapter 1: At the gate.

Kullervo stared at the lock on the gate, then the alley beyond, then eventually behind him, at his two companions, and finally through the mists and rain of the night to the mostly sleeping city that formed the backdrop, all this... Fallcrest, it was strange to him, he'd wanted excitement, and yet...

Still, it'd all been worthwhile, he was an adventurer now, he was freezing his ass off in the rain, staring at a lock that was probably trapped, and which he probably couldn't open anyway, and with Cathal and Ignaran's eyes burning holes in his back... but at least he was an adventurer now. It was what he wanted to do- last week, now he wasn't so sure.

A farm boy from Phsant, three days ago something inside him had snapped, he'd bundled his clothes, and in the dead of night, upped and left- no note. He missed home- warmth, smiling faces, good cooking; safety.

He looked again at the lock, then beyond- Cutpurse Alley [1] a well worn thoroughfare, the cobbled path slowly turning into a rivulet of stink as the rain continued to fall, up and right he could see a light, and every now and then hear raised voices- guards more than likely, Kullervo gulped- his throat was dry, very dry.

Home was less than ten miles away, ten miles and one whole world. His life had changed forever, he hoped- if only he could figure out what to do next; how to open the lock, find the traps- it was bound to be trapped Kullervo figured. The gate to Cutpurse Alley was a monstrosity in  wrought iron, all leering gargoyles, teeth, claws and talons- it said “keep out”, forget said, it shouted- “NO ENTRY.” [2]

It'd taken Kullervo the rest of the night to walk from Phsant to Fallcrest, he'd never been to the city before, ten miles- he hadn't travelled further than half that distance from the farm in the the first nineteen years of his life, that was going to change.

The massive gates to Fallcrest were shut, that was his first surprise. He had to wait an hour in the  dawn mist until a guard [3] came into sight, atop the battlement-

“Ho there, I want to come in...” Kullervo called up and waved.
“Then you've a long wait.” The guard shouted back, and smirked a little, settling in to enjoy the show.
The silence stretched, Kullervo fretted a little.
“What time do you open?” He eventually called back.
The guard shrugged, at least Kullervo presumed he did, hard to see for sure at this distance.
“We're shut.” The Soldier added and stifled a laugh.
Kullervo thought about this for a while- this wasn't going well he decided.
“Why?” Kullervo tried.
“Bandits.” The guard gestured vaguely down the Trade Road, away from Fallcrest.
“Markelhay's orders.” He added by way of explanation, Markelhay the name of the Lord of Fallcrest, even Kullervo knew that.
“What do I...” Kullervo started up.
“Sod off.” The Guard offered and did little to hide his amusement, a little while later he took to making a gesture that Kullervo had last witnessed in the school playground of Phsant, aged six [4]; Kullervo swiftly picked up a stone and threw it.
Ding.
Then ran.

[1] Cutpurse Alley, Back Alley (also known as “The Crack”), Beggars Way and Stabbers Paradise map out the line of conflict, the war zone, between the Beggars Guild and the Shadowmen, perhaps the largest Thieves Guild in Fallcrest.  Interestingly the suicide rate in this area of the city is the highest of any region, most preferred methods of “offing” oneself are- multiple stab wounds, poisoned crossbow bolt and self-strangulation- go figure.

[2] The gate to Cutpurse Alley was manufactured and installed by “Gates”, a local firm that specialises in gates, and traps, oh and trapped gates. The CEO of Gates, Build Gates, also runs Microshaft, which operates out of a shadowy booth in one of the night markets, specialising in extreme hardened crossbow bolts with very thin, and therefore lightweight, shafts- alas the present design has problems with loading. The gate in question is a BFTG9000, guaranteed to bloody- Kullervo is right to be nervous.

[3] The guard in question was Arthur Snickett, known to friends, family and enemies alike as a “complete tosser.”

[4] Billy Huffenpuff, also aged 6, made the gesture to Kullervo in the Phsant School playground- he later lost two teeth in a hammer-related accident, the incidents are connected..

Until next time...


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Chapter 2: Getting wet.

Suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder, Kullervo spins around and straight into the bearded and bristling face of Cathal.
“Well, Thief?” Cathal growls and sucks on a tuft of beard.
Kullervo shakes his head- he can't do it, doesn't know how, he'd learn though.
The warrior, Cathal, half-stomps, half-squelches back to the third of the companions- a slight man, Ignaran the Druid , to deliver the bad news.  A strange place for a Druid to be- Fallcrest. Ignaran Kullervo knows from his previous life, the Druid lives a little outside of Phsant, in the woods up near Spinney Hill [1]. Kullervo had met him once or twice in the village, at a festival or on a market day, another time he'd been to his father's farm- he was a good man, or so they said, until this morning Kullervo had never said one word to him. 

Ignaran and Cathal moved forward at a crouch, it was getting late, they'd left the Blue Moon Inn [2] at midnight and the threesome had been crouched in the rain before the gate for a little over fifteen minutes now. Ignaran reached out and put his hand on Kullervo's shoulder, gripped tight to the farmboy’s leather jerkin and squeezed, he smiled, winked and then pointedly stared at the wall to the left of the forboding gate- soon Cathal and Kullervo were grinning too.

Less than two minutes later the three were on the roof of the building, and beyond the gate, pressed against the incline of the slates, there was indeed a light ahead, on another roof, on the other side of the alley- or so it seemed from where they lay; and noises too- someone was definitely there, and unless they passed the time by talking to themselves [4], they weren't alone.

The trio were soaked, nowhere to hide from the rain up here- Kullervo remembered back to his arrival in Fallcrest, it'd damn near killed him, getting in.

After wandering around much of the south wall of Fallcrest he'd eventually come to the conclusion that there was no way in, solid stone walls- thirty feet high in places, a smattering of guards their odd looks- on sighting him, often leading to flurries of activity and wild pointing, he’d tried to keep out of sight- there really was no way in. 

Except for the river- the raging Nentir River, rapids all the way down from the Falls. You'd have to be a lunatic to go in there [5], doubly so because a man would have to swim up-river, you'd have to be pretty desp... Kullervo cut the melodrama and dived in.

It took him a little under thirty minutes to swim the two hundred yards or so needed to a spot on the bank where he could at last drag himself out of the maelstrom, escape the force of the torrent. He'd rested once or twice on his journey, although rested may have been over-selling it a little. What he had done, when his arms were frozen, numb from cold and exertion, was to drag himself up onto some of the bigger rocks in the stream, sprawl there for as long as he dared, before pushing back off into the surge and spray.

And it was thus he'd arrived in Fallcrest. First impressions- it stank. Of fires, of food, of animals packed too tightly, of people packed too tightly [6]; and yet there were few people about.  Kullervo, to be on the safe side, had decided that it would be best if he found somewhere to rest, he didn't want to be seen, a young man emerging sodden from the river, a lunatic people would think, more than likely they’d be right. He smiled thinly to himself, and scurried on into a deserted street..

The houses either side were empty shells, broken ruins- a lasting reminder of the conflict that had come to Fallcrest a century past [7], although Kullervo did not know this, could only guess. He found a place with a roof, or else the majority of its roof- and collapsed there, clinging to the floor, his head still spinning, his arms and legs freezing and yet inside on fire. He slept. Badly.

He dreamt of death, a crushing force, pushing all the air out of him- he slept for most of two days and one night, it was Ignaran that found him, weak and fevered and almost unable to move.

[1] At the foot of Spinney Hill is The Spinney, a dense copse of trees rather than a woods, often found to contain the desiccated corpses of travellers and wandering farmers’ sons and daughters, also home to quite a collection of poisonous spiders.

[2] The Blue Moon Inn, or Alehouse, to give it its full title, proprietor Par Winnomer, a flake; the place actually survives, scratch that- thrives, because of the good work of the Halfling Alemaster Kemara “Hollow-Legs” Brownbottle. Hollow Legs, at night, fights crime in the city [3], travelling under the nom de guerre, “The Brownbottle”.  Most people who frequent the Inn and/or live in the locale know this- it's made all the more obvious by the Brownbottle's crime-fighting costume, which consists solely of a wide-brimmed hat with lots of fruit on.  Other than that the Bottle travels naked as the day she was born

[3] Actually what the Brownbottle does is stagger around till four in the morning swigging from a bottle and singing songs that would make sailors blush. However she keeps the burglars away.

[4] Talking to yourself - voted the third favourite pastime by residents of the Fallcrest Secure Mental Institution, proprietors Burke & Hare; interestingly basket weaving was placed second, while the age-old favourite random slayings came first, again.  Swimming in the Nentir River placed only seventh this year- mainly, it has to be said, due to its popularity; most people only try it once.

[5] See [4].

[6] The Fallcrest full time Gnome and some-time Philosopher- Gilbert O' O, once wrote “the smell of excrement is the smell of humanity”, his neighbours agreed wholeheartedly.

[7] Fallcrest has suffered for centuries from invaders, the common adage, “points of light”, a description of the dotted enclaves of humanity within the region, is more true of Fallcrest than many of the other cities- the points of light in question are more often than not fires.


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 3: Nature comes to Town.

“What we need is a plan.” Ignaran, the Druid, whispers back and clings to the slick tile roof.  He’s a little out of his element, although in the elements, he’s soaked to the skin.
“We need someone to go take a look.” Cathal grumbles, he even grumbles when he whispers.
The warrior stares hard at Kullervo.

Eventually the young Rogue cottons-on, nods once, grins a little, nervously, then slips over the peak of the roof onto the lea side, and abruptly disappears into the night.

Ignaran and Cathal wait a while, several ‘whiles’ in fact, they’ve just the rain and each other for company.

“Where'd you find him?” Cathal eventually grumbles, if only to break the silence.
“I knew him, or rather, knew of him, back in Phsant- that's a little village just outside of...” 
“I know where it is.” Cathal snaps back.
“What good is he?” he adds.
Ignaran takes his time with an answer, he counts to ten twice, all the time staring, with a fixed smile, at Cathal’s sodden beard. In truth Ignaran had already decided that Cathal was not a people person, but that counted for little.  The way he wore his armour, the sheen of his sword- Ignaran knew the warrior could be relied upon.
“He'll prove his worth before the end, of that I have no doubt.” The Druid whispers back and smiles some more, “as will we all”, he adds for good measure.
Cathal grunts and goes back to peering into the impenetrable dark [1].

Ignaran's arrival in Fallcrest had been much easier than Kullervo’s, although in truth he had been loathe to even enter the city, he'd been to the place before, even stayed in the city a while- but that was a long time ago. Besides he had been sent for, by Nimozaran, High Wizard and Septarch of Fallcrest; a grand title, particularly for an old man who wore mismatched slippers with his frayed magical robes [2], always had crumbs in his beard, and dribbled a little -  not always when he was asleep.

Two days ago, at ten bells, the gates of Fallcrest had opened for him, and just him.  There'd been a guard sent to meet him, guide him to Nimozaran's tower, he knew the way but appreciated the company, the crowded streets of Fallcrest made Ignaran itch [3].

“Why are the gates shut?” Ignaran enquires.
The guard points the way, clears a passage through the crowd, Ignaran flinches a little.
“Bandits on the Trade Road 'tween here and Winterhaven [4]- an uprising, humanoids- they need putting down for good if you ask me.” The guard confirms and elbows a young man aside.
“Sorry.” Ignaran nods at the injured party and moves on as quickly as he can.
“Have they attacked the city, or threatened to do so?”
“Nah. Markelhay's just being cautious, keep the merchants off the roads- don't want any more caravans disappearing.” [5]
Ignaran nods by way of reply- there are a lot of people about, and now he's had a chance to have a good look at them, the citizens of Fallcrest, they look tired, grim.
“They look...” Ignaran scans the crowd, the guard understands- smirks.
“Trapped- that's the down side, shut the gates and you've suddenly got a lot of people frightened about what's out there; leave them open and you run the risk of what's out there getting in, can't win.” The guard shrugs, and shoos more of the crowd out of the way.

The rest of the journey was fairly unspectacular, although it was obviously true what the guard said, tensions were running high in places, people squabbled over meat at the market, argued outside the pubs and taverns- the City of Fallcrest was at odds with itself.

Over the lea of the tiled roof Kullervo appears, one moment there's nothing, the next there's Kullervo [6]- Cathal grunts- clearly surprised.
“He's good at that.” Ignaran offers with a smile.
“Well, report?” Cathal barks- the sound of the rain on the roof is almost deafening. No one's going to hear them, they can barely hear themselves.

“The alley dog-legs left into a small courtyard, there's something down there- a statue... or a well, something. There are windows there, we could get in... Actually, I could get in.” Kullervo nods at Cathal's armour.
“Don't worry about me.” The warrior grunts, “go on.”
“Anyway, where it turns left there's a low flat roof, on the opposite side of the alley- we could go around, although it'd take a while, and it's slippy; or we could jump down and get up on the other side.”
“Just finish your report.” Cathal's patience is wearing thin.
“Three guards on the flat roof- a fat one, a thin one, and a big one [7]; the fat one and the thin one are discussing something, the big one isn't joining in... he looks a bit... you know, simple.”
“And in the alley itself- where's the door?” Ignaran, who up till now had been silent, enquires with a reassuring smile.
“'bout ten yards straight on from here, and down; the guards will see us though.” Kullervo finishes his report, rubs himself down trying to get his circulation going again, if they don't move soon they're going to be good for nothing.

[1] Impenetrable Dark, or “Off-Black”, street name “Business Hours”, scores 1 on the Dark Scale, recognising the Scales of Dark is a commonly taught skill, particularly in the Thieves’ Guilds and the better schools of Fallcrest. Dark-Dark, or “Black”, street name “Oof”, is to be avoided at all costs, even by our dagger-wielding brethren, that's when accidents really happen.

[2] Nimozaran's left slipper bears the legend “Best Dad”, only someone has added the word “Wiz” betwixt “Best” and “Dad”; it therefore now reads “Best WizDad.” The right slipper is shaped like a huge lion's paw- Nimozaran was heard to exclaim once- “no one can track me”, while the contrary is actually true. His robes are held together by clotted egg yolk, he's not big on solids.

[3] Although that may have been the fact that he used the albumen of lizard eggs as a detergent, although not often- which may also have been a factor.

[4] Winterhaven- we'll get there later, relax.

[5] Actually no caravans have to date “disappeared”, they have in fact spread out, increased in size, what with the tumble of belongings, and the scattered burnt and abused bodies of those that formerly travelled with the caravan.

[6] One of the many benefits of impenetrable dark, see [1].

[7] Union rules, Mercs Guild- three guards= one fat, one thin, one big and stupid; the Friday Knights were fortunate that the Beggar King could only afford three guards, a four person guard unit requires the addition of  “one who knows what he is doing”, close call.


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 4: A Dark Cloud gathers.

Cathal chews at his beard, Ignaran keeps quiet, a confrontation lies ahead it seems- something the Druid knows very little about, leave it to the experts he thinks. Wordlessly Kullervo, the neophyte Rogue, concurs.

Nimozaran's Tower, a bloody pigsty - scratch that - Ignaran had seen cleaner pigsties; arcane implements, for which read odd items of no value, or use, with hieroglyphics and/or stars and moons on them [1], mixed in with the rotting remains of meals, some of which may be fast approaching their birthdays [2].

Nimozaran however was in grand form-

“I have been calculating the movements of the heavenly bodies, making appraisals, my auguries require long hours of research- the Lord Markelhay depends upon me for sage advice [3]. I have no time for the mundane things, per ardva ad astra... as they say- through endeavour to the stars.”
“Head in the clouds more like.” Ignaran mutters and scans the room, in search of a chair, and failing that somewhere safe to perch, to no avail.
“Which is why I called you.”
“Go on.” Ignaran puts a hand out to lean against the wall, regrets it instantly. The chipped plaster is damp and warm, and greasy- he wipes away the traces on his robe.
“Your father spoke very highly of you, before he...” [4] Nimozaran waves a hand about, a vague gesture.
“Yes.” Ignaran agrees.
“Anyway, a natural phenomena, can't see it now”, Nimozaran indicates the spyglass set up at the towers open window, “but during the day, well...”
“What sort of phenomena?” Ignaran circumspectly makes his way to the window, it takes a while.
“A dark cloud, or some such, the stars are more my thing- heavenly bodies, have I already said that; anyway a dark cloud gathers- rather foreboding isn't it?” Nimozaran chuckles.
Ignaran shrugs back.
“Over an abandoned tower, down by the docks, Cutpurse Alley way- Beggar King's domain, not nice- a filthy place.” The last part of the sentence is spat out with as much disgust as the Mage can muster.
Ignaran looks around the tower again, “filthy”, he agrees.
“Yes, well- I want you to take a look. Reports you see.”
“Reports of what?” Ignaran asks.
But is deflected by Nimozaran's 'search me' look and multiple shrugs.
“All this way for...” Ignaran starts.
“Better to be safe than sorry... isn't that what your father used to say?” Nimozaran smiles, a patronising smile.

Ignaran shakes his head, bends to look through the spyglass- he's here now, he may as well take a look, they'll pay- not that money is important, he does however need some new blankets, and his coffee pot is looking battered, a few creature comforts wouldn't go amiss.

The Druid straightens up, fixes a crooked smile on his face and stares hard at Nimozaran, who stares back- expectantly, “Well?”
“You use this to study heavenly bodies?” Ignaran indicates the spyglass.
“Yes, yes. Well- will you do it?” Nimozaran asks impatiently.
“Yes. Of course. My pleasure.” Ignaran smirks back and is met by a nicotine stained grin- which a little later, when Ignaran replays the moment in his mind, makes him feel apprehensive.

The Druid bends down again to get one last look at the naked fat lady sploshing up and down in a much too small water butt, soaping herself, and obviously enjoying the experience [5]; he straightens again, winks at the High Septarch, and departs.

“Right. Listen up- you two make your way forward, stay hidden for a minute, then spring out, give them all you've got. While the enemy are engaged with you I shall cross to the other side, move forward at speed, and take them by surprise- they won’t know what hit them.” Cathal finishes and slams a fist into the palm of his hand, he begins to move away.
“Hang on. How are you...” Kullervo starts up.
“That's my concern. Just you do your bit.” Cathal settles it.
“Which is...?” Ignaran’s still not sure. [6]
“Throw something at them, whatever it is you do- get their attention, sing and dance for all I care. Just give me the chance to get around them!” Cathal barks and splutters.

And with that the warrior shoos the pair away, Ignaran and Kullervo share a worried look, then edge forward, hidden in the lea of the roof. Trying to find a safe and secure hiding place opposite the flat roof on which the three guards perch- one fat, one thin and one staring at the toe-nail of the moon- open mouthed, and in-between gawps, grinning. 

[1] “Incantata & Implementia”, proprietor Alan Shuttlecock, Gnome Magikinator; made a small fortune selling Wizard-Kits, Alchemy-Kits, and various other Do-It-Yourself items, including the Home Diabolist Pack, and the “So you want to make a Pact with the Devil- Starter Kit.” Alas his shop “went on fire” three months back, all his stock was destroyed in the conflagration and the Gnome's body was never found. Rumours of Demonic rituals were hastily quashed by the Fallcrest City Guard- it was they said, “an insurance job”, although to date no one has made a claim.

[2] A few of the abandoned half-consumed meals are actually looking forward to their second birthdays- one, the remains of a Child's Portion of Fishy-Fingers and Ye Olde Chips, is only two months away from its third.

[3] The job of Court Magician is actually a sinecure, like Court Jester, only less well thought of. Nimozaran's only use, according to Count Fosco, one of Markelhay's flunkies, is as a convenient place to rest Nimorazan's hat. Truth be told it is a very good hat- although some of the stars and moons have started to peel off.

[4] Ah yes, I wonder what Ignaran's father did? I hope you do too.

[5] Mrs. Candice Fanakapan, 34; cook, glass-washer and general dogsbody at “The Market 'otel”, a low to no-class establishment where rooms are rented by the hour. She is, it seems, very fond of her nightly ablutions.

[6] Ignaran’s last major confrontation was with a swarm of Fire Ants three summers ago.  They’d started renting out space in his lean-to accommodation, and were way behind with the rent- something had to give. Ignaran moved out two days later, it took two weeks for the ants to find him again- but those two weeks were bliss.


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 5: The Strength of Kord.

Ignaran was fed up at the Inn, it was a very nice Inn, the Blue Moon Alehouse, but it was just so full of people. Nimozaran had booked him a room, he'd slept little that night, eager to be about his business, and on edge still. The aged Wizard’s smile still haunted him, and it was noisy the city- and rude till the early hours of the morning. [1]

Eventually he'd got out of the Inn and taken a wander, although that hadn't gone too well either. An ugly man [2] had tried to sell him a 'hot dog', a comestible, some kind of sausage in a bread roll. The man was fairly insistent, and ugly with it, in the end Ignaran had bought two so as not to appear to be a tourist. He’d managed to eat less than half of one, burnt on the outside and raw on the inside- and it didn't taste at all of dog. It left him feeling queasy, a little like the city.

He'd made his way to the docks, which was an experience. He guessed that a good three-quarters of the language being put to good use there was expletives, the rest was anatomical in nature, and equally bewildering. He'd asked a total of six sober men how to get to Cutpurse Alley, their answers varied, favourite by far was a vague arm gesture to the right. One man asked him if he wanted to buy a cat, at least that's what Ignaran thought he'd asked, some cats perhaps. [3]

He found Cutpurse Alley, of course. In despair he’d looked up and in the distance spotted a tower, the upper floors of which were lost in a ripped black fog- 'that’d be the place' he thought, just after- 'stupid'. Look up, that's all he had to do. He made his way towards the tower, quickly and quietly- trying not to meet anyone’s eye. He had less than ten gold coins left; things were expensive when you had to pay for them. [4]

Ignaran got his first view of Cutpurse Alley, and the formidable gate that blocked the way - clearly someone didn't like unexpected visitors- perhaps they were shy. He'd cast around the alley for an hour or more, circled and back-tracked- explored. There were no other ways of approaching the tower; this was the only way in. The Druid mooched away from Cutpurse Alley, musing on the problem, he’d not got far however when something dawned on him. He looked back at the gate and grinned. There was no way in, save one perhaps, a more aerial route across the roofs.

“Ready?” Kullervo whispers.
“What?” Ignaran grips tight hold of the peaked roof, tiles beneath his feet skitter and slide.
“I said ready?” Kullervo tries again.
“Yes. I sup...”
But by then it's too late, Kullervo's legs a moment ago were jelly, the only thing keeping them from collapsing the certainty of his own voice. He pushes off, up and over, half-slides down the roof ahead and comes to a balanced halt, and then in one swift motion lets a dagger fly. Later he will remember not his poise, or agility, or even his accuracy- instead he will remember the sickening sound of the dagger hitting it's target.

A moment ago three guards marked time on the flat roof above Cutpurse Alley. Fat Alan has a pie, a beautiful pie [5], still warm.  He bites into it, gravy explodes and runs down his chin, the roof of his mouth is on fire, hot lumps of meat and potato mashed into it. He chomps and wrestles with the meaty bolus trying desperately to swallow. 

Squinty, the smaller guard, continues to stare out into the dark, his one good eye working like some demented lighthouse, in truth he can see maybe ten paces in daylight. Squinty overcompensates by hiding pins and coins, and the like in locales he frequents, and thus he appears eagle-eyed to those that accompany him to these set-ups. “Ah. A copper coin”, he would exclaim and bend to retrieve the previously planted coin- while his companions marvel at his keen eyesight. In truth he found one-in-twenty of the items he hid- it was a costly business being eagle-eyed.

The third guard, Kronk, is a mystery even unto himself. A round faced moon child with more than a little Orc in his blood, and, it had to be said, in his wide chin, pointed ears, pig-like snout, and hard ridged forehead. The aforementioned physical characteristics had almost been the death of him on numerous occasions- people didn't like Orcs. He was saved, again and again, by the fact that he weighed just the wrong side of two-hundred and fifty pounds, the most of which was corded muscle.

The guards went about their business- Fat Alan ate, Squinty squinted, and Krunk fired a golden arc of urine into the alley below- giggling slightly, all was well with their world.

Kullervo's knife arcs out, and spins, and spins, and sp... Thunk. And digs deep into Fat Alan's back, Alan falls- backwards, his pie tumbles skyward, his last motions a flailing attempt to grasp the spinning pastry.

“Noooooooooooo.”
THUMP. 
Alan lands hard, in combination with badly.
Gravity helps the pie, which leads to a second, but much briefer-
“Nooahhh...”
Fat Alan lies still.

Ignaran hasn't moved, the Druid is paralysed- watching, he looks hard right.

“Give me Strength... Kord.” The last word a hushed whisper, the first three at maximum volume. Cathal sprints down the roof and launches himself into the air, crashes down on the far side of the alley, one foot smashes through tiles, dangles in space for a second, and then is ripped out and kicked forward- the pace is terrifying. In places the roof sags and trembles, the sound of unseen beams snapping and cracking; tiles are smashed, sundered or else sent slithering down into the alley below, like very hard rain. Cathal charges, and is at, and slightly above, the flat roof in seconds.

Kronk turns to stare, fumbles for his blade, but is far too slow, the warrior smashes an iron boot into the guard’s face breaking jaw, nose, eye socket- most everything. Cathal, blade before him, drops in and skewers the Half Orc, the tip of his longsword jutting a good ten inches through Krunk's back. The guard attempts desperately to push himself away from Cathal, to get free of the warrior's sword, one mailed arm shoots out and slams into his back, pushing the blade in deeper.

“You’re a big man, but you’re out of shape. For me it’s a full-time job. Now behave yourself... and die.” Cathal growls in a conspiratorial whisper.

Krunk gasps as Cathal withdraws the blade in a flurry of motion and, for good measure, butts the dying guard in the face- things burst and Krunk is dead before he hits the floor. 

Cathal looks about, eventually spots Squinty, the little man, he's two roofs away, and moving at speed, his blade, and watch duty, abandoned.

“Secure.” Cathal confirms with a shout and a wave.

On the far roof Kullervo grins then suddenly feels very sick.

“You can get up now.” he calls back to Ignaran and swallows hard, the Druid gingerly emerges, all three adventurers wander to the edge of their respective roofs to inspect the damage below.

[1] The Brownbottle (see previous chapters) never sleeps, that is until about 4 AM when she slumps down in an alley and enters a state of meditation not too dissimilar to a coma- another hard night fighting crime over.

[2] Big Frank or Frankie, short for Frankenfurter; his marketing ethos is meat with menaces, aggressive marketing for Frankie means ramming a steaming sausage-in-a-bun in a potential customer's face, and then pointedly going for his dagger. It helps that Big Frank has so much scar tissue that his face looks like a poorly constructed jigsaw, one ear is a good three inches lower than the other, and faces in the opposite direction. Visitors to the city often mistake him for some kind of Golem.

[3] The man in question was a pimp, work the rest out yourself.

[4] A Druid needs feeding, and what nature doesn't supply the good folk of the nearest village or settlement make up for. Living off the land sounds very hunter-gatherer, but smarter Druids camp out near to humanoid settlements, especially ones with cake shops.

[5] A Mrs. Miggins “Crusty Special”, as the sign outside of Mrs. Miggins shop states “If you like biggins... try Miggin’s.” Bloody marketing men- the pies remain excellent however. Their best selling “Meat & Something” pies are the staple diet of the masses, most especially the drunken masses.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 6: Adventurers.

“Pie.” Fat Alan whispers, and wipes meat and potato mush from his face. He's not dead, which comes as a shock to everyone- Fat Alan included.

The last remaining guard gets to his feet- still woozy; looks left, then right, then behind him, rubs the back of his head and frowns- then looks up, “naughty word”, he scarpers.
“Get him.” Cathal orders, and yet is the only one daft enough to leap the fifteen or so feet down from the roof.
“naughty word.” Kullervo echoes Fat Alan's sentiment, his legs buckle- terrified he decides against the rapid descent, particularly after watching Cathal make such a mess of it. The warrior is picking himself up however, although grimacing, clearly in a great deal of pain.

Fat Alan meanwhile has not been idle, he kicks at the door in the alley, once, twice then he's in. A wedge of light streams out, the sound of Fat Alan's voice carries, “under attack” and something about “my bloody pie”, are clearly heard.

And into Cutpurse Alley strides Fernando Del Amitri [1], a swarthy middle-aged man in tight leathers with a network of scars on his face, like fretwork. A wanted man, a cut-throat, ex-pirate- no buckle left unswashed, a villain, a... nasty piece of work. Fernando draws his rapier- Marlene [2], he names all of his blades, sashays forward slicing the air, finally reaches the newly arisen, and very hurt, Cathal. Fernando salutes the warrior with his rapier, then like a cat, crouches- ready to pounce.

“I am Fernando Del Amitri, I killed my father, now prepare to die...” [3] Which as introductions go is not a bad one. Kullervo makes a mental note to get himself an intro, or at least steal that one. Fernando launches his first attack, an attack he calls his 'mystery blade', he prances forward blade before him; Fernando is a swordsman you see.

Ignaran's mind clears, he mutters words, more like guttural sounds, and suddenly a wolf appears in the alley, just to the left of Fernando, his immediate left. It has to be said that while Fernando notices the wolf he remains remarkably calm, right up until the point the salivating canid sinks its teeth into the fleshy part of his calf, a little later we will hear the sound of his left fibula breaking.

Crack. 

There, that's it.

Fernando suddenly goes pale, however the colour returns to his cheeks a moment later when Cathal's longsword connects with his right shoulder, hacking into bone and sawing through sinew, blood jets and gushes, the air takes on a reddish tinge.

“I am...” is all Fernando manages as, with a dull thud, Kullervo's dagger thumps into the swordsman's chest. He sinks to his knees, then whispers “I killed my father...”, and pitches forward- very deceased.
“Good work”, Cathal grumbles, catches his breath and tries not to put too much weight on his left leg, “now stop buggering about and get down here the pair of you.”

Ignaran snakes an arm out, grasps Kullervo, “you alright?”. The pair continue to peer down into the alley, the shattered body of Fernando Del Amitri, then over to the opposite roof, and the likewise broken body of Krunk. Kullervo gulps, throat now very dry, and nods- Ignaran offers the young man a flask of water and then leads him away from the edge.

Ignaran had found the unconscious Kullervo yesterday evening. He'd quickly grown tired, scratch that- irritated, by the bustling streets of the city, and the dock quarter in particular. He'd wandered- away from the crowds, and a little while later found himself in the ruins of Fallcrest. The remains of the Blood War, the coming of the Red Hand, a century ago a rampaging force had swept through the Nentir Vale, not seeking to settle, or usurp; seeking only to destroy. Ignaran knew his history- Fallcrest had fallen then, although much of it had been rebuilt. There still stood, or rather didn't stand, areas of ruin- shadows of darker times.

Later Kullervo had asked the Druid how he had found him, lost, as he was, in the ruins. Ignaran spoke of instinct, and the way of nature, how all life is holy, and about the abstract order of the universe being a force for good, a force for survival. He spoke of his dedication and training, his ability to read nature's signs [4]. Kullervo, of course, was suitably impressed.

And so Ignaran carried Kullervo back to the Blue Moon Alehouse, he recognised the young villager, and suspected he knew how he had got into the city, and his reasons for being here. He also knew how to fix Kullervo's particular ailment- drink, good food, a few carefully chosen herbs and a warm fire- and more sleep. 

He watched over the young man for the rest of the evening and late into the night, the bar had filled, then emptied, filled again, and then emptied again- it was like watching the tides.

Nobody bothered the pair by the fire, nobody except...
“Mind?” Cathal barks. [5]
It was a question, Ignaran could tell by the question mark, he shrugs and Cathal plonks himself down in the chair next to Kullervo.
The interloper is a big man in his early thirties with a moustache that would leave him tasting his breakfast for much of the day. He seemed on edge, unable to relax.
Time passes, slowly - measured mostly by the exchange of side-long glances.
“Pissed?” Cathal finally asks, and nods at Kullervo.
“No. He'll be as right as rain in a little while.”
“Mmm.” Cathal doubts.
Silence settles over the trio again.
“Work?” Cathal eventually asks, and smooths his moustache.
“What sort of work?” Ignaran replies, a little put out.
“'venturing.” Cathal nods and raises a now steaming iron-clad boot to hover over the flames of the fire.
Kullervo awakes in an instant.
“Adventuring?” His eyes glisten in the firelight.
“Yes.” Cathal confirms, and nods for good measure.
“What's the job?” Kullervo is as quick as a flash.
“Whatever it is we're not...” Ignaran starts up.
“Cutpurse Alley- going to relieve the Beggar King of something very valuable to him.” Cathal gets the hang of things, an actual sentence.
“Cutpurse Alley...” Ignaran starts, but is duly ignored.
“Valuable?” It's Kullervo's turn for the one word questions.
“Hundred gold for each man.” Cathal knows he's winning.
“One hundred...” Kullervo's eyes are like saucers.
“Did you say Cutpurse Alley, the one with the gate?” Ignaran asks.
Cathal nods curtly.
“What gate?” Kullervo adds, but is ignored- it's his turn.
“Count me in.” Ignaran proffers his hand.
“Me too.” Kullervo agrees, and grins from ear to ear.
Ignaran is about to protest when, “Cathal.” Cathal declares and then pumps Kullervo's hand, “be here at midnight, and be ready”, and then he's up and lost in the crowd.
The Druid gawps and stammers, his mind trying to process new information.
“You're Ignaran, aren't you? I've heard tales about you - you're... a survivor, out there in the wilds. You must be pretty tough.” Kullervo grins, nods and offers his hand to Ignaran.
“It's Kullervo isn't it? I know your father.” Ignaran smiles, preens a little, and shakes the proffered hand.

The two settle down by the fire.

“Adventurers.” Kullervo states much later, and chuckles to himself.
“Hmm.” Ignaran murmurs, and suddenly looks less pleased.

[1] Fernando Del Amitri, a legend in his own mind; in truth he is an ageing and yet still handsome miscreant with the gift of the gab. The Del Amitri's are butchers by trade, specialising in blood sausage and the harder to find, and identify, cuts of meat. Fernando was barred from the family trade partly because of his dandyish behaviour, but mostly because he faints at the first sight of blood, and thus he ended up a swordsman; and in the employ of the Beggar King- who is not known for generous salaries.

[2] Fernando sleeps with Marlene, and sometimes his rapier too.

[3] Alan Del Amitri, Fernando's father, is very much alive, and still wielding the cleaver; although he hasn't been in the family butcher's shop for over a decade. Nobody, alas, has come by enough courage to tell him to put the blade down yet.

[4] He'd heard him snoring.

[5] Cathal employs two modes of communication, barking and grumbling, both best suited to the parade ground- he appears most times to be talking, or rather shouting, at someone on the next table over.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 7: The Goose.

Cathal strides out of the Blue Moon Alehouse and back into the night, but only for a short perambulation. Actually what he does is exit the front door of the Inn, complete a half-circuit of the place, and then head back in through the back door, to a less crowded bar. The latter circuitous route is employed in order to confuse anyone observing his movements- his paranoia is ingrained. Situated in the midst of the smaller bar Cathal searches- looks left, then right, then left again. Eventually he notices the very small hunchbacked man, beneath his line of sight, tugging at his mail.

It's 'The Goose', his employer [1]. The Goose, it is said, hit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down.
“Is it done?” The small man slurs, not through alcohol but for effect, he's aiming for a mystery wrapped in an enigma but hitting annoying far too often. He balloons his cape, which is far too big for him, and disappears momentarily beneath its bulk. Cathal waits, eventually the Goose surfaces.
Cathal nods.
“Good.” He slurs and clasps his hands together and rubs, “mwah...”, head back he goes to laugh.
“Shut up” Cathal offers, and lets his hand rest on the hilt of his blade.
“Right.” The Goose nods and takes a sip of his Pina Collider [2], the umbrella almost takes his eye out.
“Right.” Cathal confirms and wishes himself elsewhere, seconds later he grants his own wish and stalks off.

He gets about ten paces heading for the exit.

“And don't forget to bring the Beggar King's [3] head back”.  The Goose shouts over the noise of the now silent, and staring, bar.
“Oopsie.” The Goose turns swiftly away swirling his cloak about him, he disappears into its voluminous folds, well... not quite, but leaves all eyes on Cathal.
“Kord, give me strength.” The Warrior mutters and grumbles, then quick-smart dashes for the exit.

“This way.” Kullervo motions towards the dog-leg left, “I saw something down here.”

Kullervo edges forward past the sprawled body of the swordsman, Del Amitri; around the corner the alley opens out into a small courtyard, just as he had said- the young Rogue looks behind him, Cathal tugs at his beard and then nods for him to go on. 

Kullervo creeps forward; the rain is becoming torrential, he wades through filthy water, almost over his boots. A low mist roils and coils- it appears to snake and curl from the odd-shaped object ahead, he proceeds with caution.

There are windows here, on the floor above, the shimmer of light, clearly the place is inhabited. He waits a moment, silent- focussing on the sounds of the night, only the rain- no other noise.

He creeps forward some more- the alley ends in a fountain/statue affair, all angles- hard to make out what it actually is. The entire structure is covered in rot and a  thick black tar like substance- clearly it has been here some time, and has suffered over the years. Kullervo turns around, indicates to the others that it is safe to approach.

From around the corner Cathal and Ignaran wade forward into the tiny courtyard, the mist clings to their legs and lower bodies.

Ignaran gets half-way and then suddenly stops, the mist is red, or else it has a red tinge to it. He holds out his left hand, swirls it through a thick patch of the fog, brings his hand up to his face to see a greasy red liquid; it looks like blood.

“Careful” the Druid whispers, and moves forward to join his compatriots before the strange statue cum fountain.

The stone basin of the fountain is full to overflowing with filthy water. Towering over the basin is  some sort of statue, clearly a thick-set creature, winged perhaps, although…

Cathal moves forward, digs the end of his longsword into the thick black mould-like growth and levers a chunk free - beneath is an intricately shaped and sculpted reddish stone. He prises some more of the filth away, then suddenly realises what it is, or rather who it is, that slumbers beneath the slime.

“Kord save us, that’s…”

CRASH

The Friday Knights spin round, the sound came from behind them, back down the alley. Kullervo gulps- audibly.


[1] The Goose is an information Broker, a Go-Between, a Middle-Man, Mr. 10%- actually it's more likely to be Mr. 50% but don't tell Cathal. His motto, which he whispers to himself on occasion, is “half the reward and none of the risk.” The Goose, it has to be said, gets things done. For instance, if the Shadowmen (the largest Thieves Guild in Fallcrest) wanted the Beggar King permanently taking out of the picture. Then rather than attempt such a task themselves, or even employ a third party directly - and this is only an example mind - they would instead simply employ The Goose to expedite such a trivial matter. The Goose would, of course, have to find a gullible group of wannabe heroes and convince them to complete this incredibly dangerous task for half the original reward, or less. Obviously the above is just an example of the kind of thing the Goose gets up to, a-ha-ha... hm,  as I say, just an example - honest.  

[2] Pina Collider, a Dwarven Alcopop, made from the flesh, juice, pith - and maybe a little of the rind, of a perfectly ripe pineapple - smushed up with ice, to which is added a heaped spoonful of 'Mama Molasses Sweet Sucre', a twist of lime and a good glug of 'Old Daktari Imported Rum'. Add umbrella and serve. What could be more luscious, more mellow and more fragrant? It's like being kicked in the head by a big man wearing huge fluffy slippers.

[3]  The Beggar King, an anonymous and foul smelling individual to whom all beggars, and associated non-tradespeople - the lame, the blind, the cursed and the confounded pay tribute. The Beggar King, it is said, hears every whisper in the city - which may account for the extra guards present at his fortified abode when the Friday Knights come calling - more of this later.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 8: Astaroth.

The gate?

CRASH

The sound comes again.

It is the gate.  It sounds as if some huge monstrosity has just ripped the thing off its hinges, which as it happens, is a fairly accurate description of events. Cathal takes charge - “spread out, into the shadows, ready yourselves.” Ignaran and Kullervo do as they’re told; the Rogue disappears into the impenetrable dark, with added mist for improved hiding. The Druid presses himself against a wet and dirty wall - half-closes his eyes and wishes himself invisible. Cathal draws his sword and heads for the shadow also.

They wait.

Cathal's mind wanders for a second, he's back at home, 112 Dyvers Row; Fallcrest. Fourteen years old, and stood to attention. His father is elsewhere, stalking the half-empty rooms of their broken home. There's a candle burning on top of both of the coffins, mourners crowd around - not speaking, holding their breath - waiting for his father's return, to finish the prayer and say goodbye to his wife, and the son that he adored. Cathal stands as still as a statue, hands pressed so tightly together that they shiver and shake... finally plodding footsteps - his father approaches.

Splashing - footsteps down the alley into the courtyard, and to a halt; a shadowy figure, a monstrous shadowy figure silhouetted briefly, coal coloured skin, as big as a... big.

The creature comes on, towards the hiding places of the three neophyte adventurers, and then on- till it towers before the half-revealed statue.

The man, scratch that - man-mountain, shivers- then unlimbers his Greataxe, part of a sweeping circular motion.

THUNK.

And takes the statue’s head clean off. The stone head splashes into the basin causing a mini tidal wave of foetid stinking water.

“Huh-huh.” Astaroth rumbles, with a voice as deep as the ocean.
Snick.
“Don’t move.” Cathal steps out of the shadows, his longsword before him.
Astaroth turns around, Cathal's blade suddenly looks much too small, not up to the job.
“I said…” Cathal tries. 
Astaroth; six feet six, three hundred plus pounds of interlocking plates of solid muscle, over which is strapped and tied, thick black armour.  In his hands a greataxe slightly taller than he is, the double-headed blade almost as broad. A giant black man with a swathe of black hair, seemingly cut and styled by a blind woman with a grudge; he looks bored and shrugs a ‘so what’, and leans on his axe [1].

Ignaran steps out of the shadow, the big man looks suitably surprised, although the Friday Knights will later learn that Astaroth is more in need of spectacles than a decent hair cut.
“Who are you?” Ignaran asks, and finds his voice has deepened [2].
“Astaroth.” The big man replies, which tells them nothing.
“Why are you here?” Cathal cuts to the chase.
“Kill bad men, rescue Lady.” [3] Astaroth offers, and rests his greataxe over his shoulder.
The latter manoeuvre causes Ignaran and Cathal to momentarily scatter, or at least duck and dodge a little.
“Which bad men?” Ignaran asks.
“What Lady?” Cathal tries.
“Bad men”, followed by a shrug in the general direction of the Beggar King’s abode.  He then goes on, “Lady Constance [4]- real purty, great big money bags.” Astaroth mimes two hefty sacks, “Huh-huh”, he rumbles and grins.
“She in there?” Cathal points to the Beggar King’s den.
Astaroth nods heartily.

Cathal glances at Ignaran, then decides against asking the Druid's opinion. He strides forward - smiling; “then join us, for our duty lies within, we too have business with the Beggar King - join us, together we will rescue your good Lady and bring the Beggar King to justice once and for all.” The offer wavers between a statement and a question. Either way, when he’s done Cathal watches Astaroth’s face intently for any indication of his answer.

“Huh-huh, great big…” Astaroth mimes money bags again, and then nods and grins like a child offered ice cream.
“Good man.” Cathal chucks the huge warrior's arm, solid muscle, biceps as big as his head. “Cathal, Knight Warrior of Kord”, he offers his hand - which is duly crushed in the Astaroth's oversize paw.
“Ignaran”, Ignaran takes his turn, “owww.” He withdraws his hand from the giant's grasp and shakes the feeling back into his throbbing fingers.
“Kullervo”, from the shadows Kullervo whispers, which causes Astaroth to turn on the spot, his axe leaping into his hands. “Ugh”, Astaroth nods at the newly revealed Rogue, “sneaky”, he adds and chuckles a little.
“Door.” Astaroth proclaims, and goes to stride off down the alley.
Kullervo reaches out and grabs at him which, surprisingly, is enough to arrest his progress “what happened at the gate back there?”
“Gate gone. Gone good.” Astaroth shrugs the Druid off and stomps to the half-open door into the Beggar King's lair.

The three remaining Friday Knight share a look.
“It was...” Ignaran begins.
“And locked, and trapped- probably” Kullervo finishes.
Cathal looks after the man-mountain as he heads back the alley to the half-open door.
“I don’t like this” he states, and chews at his beard.


[1] For those familiar with the great works of Thrud the Barbarian, then be prepared, he's back, or at least his latest incarnation is.

[2] A common occurrence - all males, and some females, conversing with Astaroth drop an octave or two, and more often than not find themselves attempting to appear much larger, and especially broader, than they actually are. It's a defence mechanism, the effect is often foiled by the person's body language, and/or facial expressions, which are usually screaming something along the lines of- 'don't eat me- please, I'm chewy... and I don't taste nice.' By-and-large those facing Astaroth spend much of their time concentrating on their legs, which are frantically sending messages to the brain that they want to be elsewhere, and in a hurry.

[3] A typical Astaroth reply, short and punchy.

[4] Lady Anaconda Forsooth Constance, all the Constance girls are named after serpents, Lord Constance, their father, a devout Pelorian believed all women to be the servants of the Dark One and responsible for the fall of man. His death was mourned by few, including his family, in life he was a lying, deceiving, in-bred misogynist; in death he serves as a rather intriguing hat-stand in the Constance residence. Lady Anaconda, the oldest of the girls, is heir to the family fortune.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 9: The Bazaar of the Bizarre.	

“He looks trustworthy enough, not… you know… bright.” Ignaran adds while making sure Astaroth is out of earshot.
“No, that.” Cathal turns and points to the now decapitated statue, beneath the filth and dirt. Sculpted from blood red stone, wings outstretched, the headless demon waits.
“Who is, I mean, was it?” Kullervo asks.
“Orcus, Demon Lord of Undeath.” Cathal firmly states and heads down the alley after Astaroth without a backwards glance.

Leaving the young Rogue alone with Ignaran, the pair stare at the statue of Orcus- a gigantic cloven-hoofed Demon Lord with the head of a Ram, cruel taloned furred wings spread wide and a huge skull topped rod in his hand.

“What's that all about?” Kullervo asks and motions towards the statue.
“Not good.” Ignaran states and turns to leave.
“I thought we were after something valuable- not killing the guy, the Beggar King I mean?” Kullervo asks, his voice strained- slightly desperate, perhaps even afraid.
Which stops Ignaran in his tracks, the Druid doesn't turn around, merely shrugs his shoulders- “I don't know”, he whispers, “I don't know what we're here for anymore.”

The Druid heads after Cathal, leaving Kullervo alone, the red mist spirals and shapes in the air, a trick of the light perhaps. A single strand of the bloody fog reaches out, dances before the Rogue, Kullervo grins, until the hazy tentacle suddenly jerks upwards, like a snake ready to strike.

“Ignaran… Ignaran, wait for me.” Kullervo heads back down the alley at speed, sploshing as he half-runs through the waterlogged courtyard. He looks back but the statue is gone from sight, lost within the coiling mist, but it's still there, he can feel it, it's gaze.

Back in the alley Cathal pushes past Astaroth and toes the door open, and into a shop, of sorts.
“The Bazaar of the Bizarre”, he adds by way of explanation.
“The what?” Ignaran questions.
“It's a shop, all the sh... ahem detritus of life ends up here. It's a Beggar's Shop, a shop... for Beggars.”
“I got that the first time.” Ignaran adds and then wishes he hadn't, Cathal's gaze is withering.
“How do you...” Kullervo starts.
“Born here”, Cathal finishes, “now shut up”, he adds for good measure.

The shadowy chamber ahead is packed to the rafters with junk, the flotsam and jetsam of everyday life. Broken barrels are stacked in the centre of the floor, tatty and half-collapsed boxes and crates line the walls. Strings of silverware, all tarnished- most worn to dull edges, criss-cross the room, like faded streamers. Bundles of cloth; clothes, rags and scraps. Coils of rope, and rusty chain. Stacks of ancient, and rotten looking, spears and staves; broken swords and blades dot the chamber.

On the far side of the cluttered store, to the left, is a curtained opening, unlit beyond; to the right a clearing before a low counter, a lit hallway on the other side.

“Yerv, ad yer fun, nah sling yer 'ook.” Fat Alan, the ex-pie wielding sentry, totters into view, the obese guard swigs from a bottle of “Smashed Eric” [1], thumps it down on the counter and swats his short sword about haphazardly- clearly full to the brim of alcohol-fuelled menace.

Cathal and Astaroth take several steps into the Bazaar, the Warrior nods towards the curtained opening, the man-monster Astaroth covers the distance quickly, his greataxe at the ready.

“Perhaps we could reach some sort of accord, no need for violence?” Cathal approaches, sword still drawn, but trying his very best to look as peaceable as he can.

“I dunno abowt dat.” Fat Alan slurs, then looks behind him for reassurance, clearly he wasn't aware he was going to have a speaking part in the production.
“Get 'em. Get the bastards.” A voice urges and whines- there's someone in the hallway on the other side of the counter, out of sight at the moment. 

Astaroth pulls the curtain aside, peers into the gloom.  The dirt floor of the small slum chamber ends at the lip of a stinking black pit full of liquid rot and filth, scraps of half-eaten food and worse scattered about the rim. It stinks.

Astaroth nods at Cathal, who gets the message.

“I think what we need...” Cathal begins, covering the last few yards to Fat Alan, all smiles and goodwill; and then as quick as a flash delivers a southpaw hay-maker to the side of Fat Alan's head. The fat guard slams his hip into the counter and concertinas to the floor. 

“Ooo ya fu...”

But Cathal is far from done, his longsword lances out and down- hard and fast, piercing Fat Alan's flimsy and ragged leather jerkin. Stabbing straight through his chest and out the other side. In the process puncturing, slicing and skewering all manner of important organs and vessels.

Fat Alan gurgles a little, and lies still forever.

“Shop.” Cathal approaches and bangs the pommel of his sword on the counter, beyond is a short hallway leading to a flight of stairs, at the top of which is another curtained exit; to the right of the stairs an open doorway, around which a hooded snivelling little man peers, a dark twisted dagger before him.

Cathal smiles at the runt of a thief, while behind him Ignaran and Kullervo move up into the Bazaar.

The man, Arthuro the Fence [2], looks terrified, and then some thing, some... thought wings its way into his addled brain, he smiles back at Cathal revealing his four good teeth and his many not-so-good gnashers. Then at the top of his lungs he yells, “TIMMY!”

The response is instantaneous. Back in the curtained alcove, at which Astaroth still stands, the pit suddenly explodes liquid filth, literally a shower of , and from the dark recesses of the dank gloom emerges a many-tentacled horror...

Timmy.


[1] 'Smashed Eric', the scumbag's guzzle. Smashed Eric is a potato-based spirit that with time will send a drinker blind and mad. It's named after... well, Smashed Eric, a wild tramp with the fortitude of an ox, who swears by the stuff. Bottle fed on the foul brew from the age of seven; Smashed Eric is to be found staggering at odd times around the wharves of Fallcrest, for every ten bottles he sells he gets one free. On a good day he sells ten bottles, on a bad day- twenty.

[2] Arthuro Ignatius Riptorn the 3rd; the third generation of his family to occupy the position of shopkeeper at the Bazaar of the Bizarre. A weasely man whose clothes and soul are stained by a patina of filth. In truth Arthuro had no intention of following his old man into the family business, he had his heart set on becoming a barber, or perhaps a hair stylist. Alas fate, and his father, had other ideas. This travesty set back the barbering business by twenty years, for in Arthuro's possession is an invention that would revolutionise the hair care industry in an instant. A simple device, like a pair of very blunt and flat-bladed scissors, the ends of which are designed to be heated in order to tame unkempt and uncultivated locks. He calls his invention the “Arthuro Ignatius Riptorn Straighteners” which, if fate had played its hand differently, would have been shortened, by the marketing men, to “AIR straighteners”, and thus an entire industry silently suffers- such is fickle fate’s whim.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 10: TIMMY!

Timmy rises from the deep, a six foot diameter ball of undulating rubbery flesh, wrapped in a hardened skin of crusted  and stink. Two slithering clawed and hooked tentacles either side of a shorter eye stalk that snakes into the air. In the centre of the furious ball a gaping maw full of seemingly randomly spaced jagged broken teeth.

Timmy gapes and slobbers, biting at the foetid air...

“Timm-ahh.” the Otyugh gasps, followed by a thunderous rasping farting sound, with prolonged squelches, bellows and gurgles for accompaniment.

The two tentacles lurch and flail forward, set to grasp an unmoving Astaroth who gawps.

“-”

Meanwhile Arthuro the Fence, the weasel-faced Rogue in the hallway, flips the dagger in his hand and lets it fly- a direct hit. The blade bites into a join in Cathal's armour, cuts deep and instantly produces a slick of blood from just below the Warrior’s right armpit. An instant later the dagger disappears, leaving behind a gaping wound, and reappears in Arthuro's open hand. The frustrated hairdresser grins- the effect spoiled slightly when one of his good teeth makes a break for freedom and falls out onto the floor.

“GAWRDS.” Arthuro grunts loudly, and holding his now bloody mouth backs through the doorway and out of sight.

At the top of the stairs the hessian sack curtain is roughly pulled aside and a pair of leather armoured squinting idiots hot-foot it at a rush- a headlong charge down the stairs to reach Cathal. The pair of in-bred attackers are Dog Brothers [1], that is members of the Dog Brother gang. Their armour adorned with the ripped and sliced hides of a myriad mangy hounds that have met their maker at the pair’s hands, and blades. They're street fighters, cruel and indiscriminating- blood is their bounty, whose blood at the behest of the highest bidder.

The Friday Knights are for it, 'caught in a trap' like the song says [2].

Or so it seems...

The first to react is Kullervo who springs forward lightning fast onto the low counter, it bows a little but takes his weight. A dagger spins out of his hand and buries itself in the first Dog Brother- Snarl's fleshy thigh, he screams and clutches at the spot, and then in panic attempts foolishly to retreat back the way he came making yapping sounds.

Which doesn't work at all. The two Dog Brothers slam into each other- one full speed ahead, the other, Growl, in quick reverse, the pair stumble and tumble onto the stairs and end in a tangled mess.

Cathal sees his opportunity, strides over to the chaotic multi-limbed pile-up and slashes hard with his longsword, cleaving into one flailing arm and one flailing leg, screams all round from the bloody pile.

The Warrior grins.

Ignaran is also not idle, his wolf friend appears again, this time in the doorway through which Arthuro the Fence retreated. The ferocious canid growls, clearly it spots its prey. The Druid is quickly to its side.

“Sick 'em Wolfie.”

Ignaran points at the retreating Fence and grins.  Wolfie scampers forward and is at full pelt by the time it smashes and tears into a terrified Arthuro. He's bitten badly, and mauled a little for good measure, he spills his dagger.

“Hewp me! IROWCAR...” Arthuro screams falsetto, like a pig-tailed six year old. Wolfie has found his grip, it's in the region of the Fence's groin.

Ignaran spies out the ill lit chamber ahead, some sort of office, complete with a creaking wooden desk overflowing with scrolls and rolls of parchment, spilled and solidified inkpots, and piles and scattered piles of copper coins. Another curtained doorway leads, it seems, into a darkened chamber beyond.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRKKKKK-fart.” 

The fluctuating flatulent scream is almost enough to bring a halt to the proceedings.

Back in the smaller slum chamber Astaroth recovers his greataxe, rips it from the flabby folds of flensed flesh - a gaping gorge in Timmy's side - almost enough to sever the right tentacle at its root. Astaroth hoists his axe high again, and readies for another swing.

The flopping Otyugh can do nothing but aimlessly lash out with its one good tentacle, which Astaroth easily ducks. A chunk of mouldy plaster from the door frame splats to the mud-bath floor, and is sucked beneath the ooze. 

“TIMM-EEE.” Astaroth parrots and rumbles, “funny...”

And buries his axe in the floundering aberration's brain.

Silence for a heart beat.

“Jim-AH. JIM. JimJimJim- JIM-AH?” The Otyugh tries, and with its good tentacle prods and feels the opening in its formerly air-tight brain cavity. A slick of grey goo gloops and pulses from the wound.

“Jiiiimm.”

Gurgle-gurgle-Blooop.

“-ah.”

Timmy finally whispers and sinks back down into the bubbling pit of filth, from whence he came.



[1] The Dog Brothers in action are “Growl” & “Snarl”, as with all of the members of the gang they have no fear of head injuries.

[2] 'Caught in a trap', a lyric from the popular tune 'Suspicious Finds' performed in most, if not all, of the less discerning watering holes in Fallcrest by the beat combo Fine Young Animals- formerly a very minor street gang. The song goes-

			'I'm caught in a trap
			I can't walk now
			Because my leg is caught inside.

			Why can't you see 
			What it's doin' to me?
			Why didn't you find it, is what I'm sayin'?'

The Fine Young Animals gave up their lives of crime and wastrel ways when their leader was, well... caught in a trap, said leader survived just long enough to kill the gangs rogue, for not finding the trap. The remaining three members of the gang took to the stage.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 11: The Leader of the Pack.

The tables are turned, big-time, it seems.

Cathal's opponents, the Dog Brothers, mangy human scum- street fighters, wrestle with each other for a moment and then finally find their respective feet.

“Arrrghhh”, and, “Woof” they curse.

The pair head back up the stairs, one of them now dragging a bloodied almost useless leg as Cathal lands yet another slicing blow on the retreating form. The Dog Brothers burst through the curtain at the summit- screaming for all their worth.

“I-RO-CAR!”

“Who's Irocar?” Kullervo asks, and vaults down from the counter.
“Search me?” Ignaran adds and watches Wolfie play with his dinner a little.

“Help... Help me... I... I... surrender, I surrender... Get it bloody off me!” Arthuro screams and battles to save his manhood.

“Think he's had enough?” Kullervo nods towards the break-dancing Fence.
“S'pose.” Ignaran shrugs, and Wolfie disappears, leaving the would-be Rogue staring up at Kullervo, who has taken the liberty of picking up Arthuro's fallen dagger en route.

“Don't move a muscle, they call me Kullervo the... Killer. Rah!” Kullervo adds with menaces, he's going to have to work on his intro some more.
“Please, can I surrender now?” Arthuro offers, a yellow puddle spreads out from where the shaking Fence is squatting.

Kullervo turns and winks at Ignaran, the Druid smiles back.

Meanwhile Astaroth has made his way over to Cathal.

“Who Iron-Car?” Astaroth asks and points vaguely in the direction of the stairs.
Cathal shrugs, “let's find out.”

The Warrior takes the stairs three at a time, shouting as he goes, “Coming... Ready-or-not.”

Bursts through the ragged hessian curtain and sweeps his longsword hard right, and straight into another Dog Brother gang member, the canine accessorised bandit is sent spinning back, his surprise attack thwarted.

The upper chamber is a wreck, hazy smoke from cheap candles and even cheaper tobacco. On the floor the rank bedrolls of the gang, as well as a dozen or more littered bottles of 'Smashed Eric', 'Tinkers Skuzz' [1] and 'Drain-O' [2] - the gamut of quality rotgut, guaranteed to leave the consumer blind, dumb or dead.

Across the chamber a rickety wooden ladder leads into a darkened loft. There are three Dog Brothers in the room, all injured, one on his knees in the corner, a bloody mess- Snarl, the first down the stairs, retching and spewing up all that's left of his courage.

Of greater import is Irocar, it must be he, Cathal thinks.

Irocar is clearly the leader of the pack, his chainmail coif pokes through the wrenched open jaws of some much larger hound, over his armour a robe of stitched skins, all manner of Fallcrest's favourite canines.

“Rawf... Rawf!” Irocar barks, no really, he barks; then slavers and pants a while.

The Dog Brothers, at least the two still standing, redouble their guard and pull back so they're either side of the top dog.

“Rawf... Raaaaa... Awf!” Irocar barks some more and from behind his back, hidden by his doggie cape, produces four feet of serrated blade, a notched and much abused bastard sword. It doesn't look old or ill-kept, as much as too often employed.

“Rawwwwwwwawawwawwawawawawawaw!” Irocar howls and points his blade at Cathal, the Warrior of Kord considers himself called-out, challenged.

The three attackers surge forward, just at the moment that Astaroth levers himself through the doorway and into the chamber; the sound of Ignaran on the stairs can also be heard.

But it's not enough to put Irocar off his stride, a brutal overhead blow that smashes through Cathal's armour at the shoulder, leaves his shield arm limp and possibly broken.

“Koooooo-rd.” Cathal hisses and sucks in ragged gulps of air, his shield clangs onto the floor. He swishes his battered hand behind him and launches his attack, his blade flashing and slashing he cuts back. Irocar emerges from the clinch with a thick red welt across his face, which slowly unfurls a curtain of blood.

Astaroth is quickly into position, he smashes his greataxe into the pack-leader's left hand side, slicing away his dog skin cape, and more importantly splintering his thigh bone.

The Dog Brother's attacks are half hearted and off target, or else easily deflected.

Ignaran pokes his head into the chamber, assesses the situation, and weaves magic in the air – a burst of flame explodes harmlessly before Irocar. However it's enough to send all three miscreants shuffling back further- almost to the wall behind them. The two Dog Brothers look sick, drained of colour, clearly out of their depth and in search of a way out.

Irocar however-

“Rawwwwwwwawawawawawawawawaw!”  

Is made of sterner stuff, he grits his teeth and blocks out the pain, a moment later a surge of adrenalin washes over him, he grins and grimaces and is back in the fight.

“RAWF! Grrrrrrrrrrrr...” He barks and growls, and against all odds, dances forward- feinting one way than the other, enough to confuse Astaroth who's left with a six inch gash on his right forearm, almost enough to cause him to relax his grip on his greataxe.

“Bug'r.” The man-mountain simply states.


[1] 'Tinker's Scuzz', a genteel mixture of fermented grain and distilled lamp oil, sweetened of course- connoisseurs usually burn off the excess gases produced by the heady brew before drinking. Failure to do so has lead to more than one case of spontaneous combustion. One of the more expensive brews on offer to the hard drinking down-and-out of Fallcrest.

[2] 'Drain-O', a mild alcohol based acid/bleach/detergent; used by the Dyers Guild and the Sewermen (to unblock drains of course), and others. The old adage goes, 'if the bottom's fallen out of your world, drink Drain-O - and watch the world fall out of your bottom.' The last resort of the career inebriant.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 12: Meanwhile...

Meanwhile, back down the stairs Kullervo is having a cosy chat with Arthuro the Fence.

“What's with all this stuff?”

The young Rogue flicks the dagger through the piles of papers on the laden desk.

“Receipts... Takings... Coppers, that's it. Honest.”
“Hmmm... What's in there?”

Kullervo points to the curtained chamber beyond.

“My bed.”
“That it?”
“Yes... Can I go now?” Arthuro pleads.

Kullervo grins back at him, gulps and swallows a little- he's feeling slightly dizzy, ever aware of the situation he's in. In control- not something he's used to, having somebody pay attention to him- he's enjoying it.

“I shouldn't think so. What do you do here?”
“Run the shop, this-and-that...” Arthur replies, half-shrugs.
“Busy lately?”
“No, opposite really- they're all deserting him.”
“Who?”
“The Beggar King, now that the Shadowmen are after him- the Beggars are drifting away.”
“What else?”
“He's hiring mercenaries- like the Dog Brothers up there.”

The pair look to the ceiling, a lump of plaster thunks onto the floor, either someone is teaching a very large creature a fairly energetic dance, or else Astaroth is in full swing.

Arthuro gulps. Kullervo grins some more, figures the others would be calling for him if they were desperate. The Rogue looks around again.

“You got a sack?”

Arthuro nods towards a pile of junk in the corner, thirty seconds later everything of value has been swept into the bag, which is soon nestled in Kullervo's backpack. There must be over 200 coppers there Kullervo thinks- it took him four months to save three silver pieces, that's thirty coppers, to buy the leather riding boots he wears.

“In there.” Kullervo points to the ragged curtain, Arthuro crawls on all-fours into the bedroom, the young Rogue wipes his sweaty brow and then the palm of his hand, the one gripped too tight to his new dagger, and then follows after.

It's like the Fence said- a cramped bedroom, a crate for a bedside table with the stub of a candle on it- and the glint of coins.  A window that looks out, just- through the smeared filth, onto the small misty courtyard.  Nothing else, save for the thick ledger resting on the edge of the bed.

“What's that?” Kullervo asks.
“Nothing.” Arthuro replies, too quickly, and looks everywhere but at the book.
“Fetch.” Kullervo points again with his new dagger.

Gently, gingerly Arthuro slowly lifts the book off the bed, wipes his sweaty brow with his sleeve and passes the ledger over.

“That wasn't so difficult was it?”
“No.” Arthuro confirms, staring up at Kullervo.

On all fours still, Arthuro can see under the bed, his bed, to the mechanism there- the trap. He hasn't slept in the bed for a year now, doesn't dare- hair trigger.

Nestled beneath the bed are a dozen razor sharp spears- highly sprung, set to rip through the mattress and anyone lying or sitting upon it. 

It's Arthuro's turn to grin, he quickly wipes the smile from his face and turns back to Kullervo, the young Thief is juggling the book and the dagger in his hands- it can't be done. He shoves the ledger under his arm and lurches over to the makeshift bed-side cabinet- grabs up the scattering of coins on top, then stops- looks over his shoulder at Arthuro who grins back non-plussed. Slowly he uncurls his fingers, he was right, the scattering of coins are mostly gold- he wants to scream. Kullervo makes a gulping sound, half-hiccup half-choked sneeze; his eyes glisten- gold coins. It takes a moment- Arthuro watches on, not sure what he's witnessing.

The young Rogue regains his sense, tucks the money in an inside pocket, then awkwardly manhandles the crate and drags it over to the end of the bed.

He toes the crate into place, thumps the ledger down upon it- the book flicks open to reveal columns of figures, strange symbols here and there- a code perhaps. ‘Interesting’, Kullervo thinks, and goes to take a seat on the end of the bed.

Arthuro crouches, like a sprinter in his blocks- ready to run for his life, any second now.

Three... Two... 

Kullervo suddenly stands up- stares straight ahead. Shifts his head to the side, to afford a different perspective- stares hard at the wall ahead, something not quite... Ah.

“Open it.”

Arthuro turns to stare at the blank wall.

“What?”
“You heard me- open it.”
“There's nothing...”

Kullervo leans down to the Fence, swiftly places the blade of the dagger against the man's neck, their eyes meet. 

Inside Kullervo is shaking, a small amount of pee escapes his bladder, his teeth clamped tight together- else they'd be chattering. The pair hold position- a fresco

The Fence gulps- once, twice- nods; then crawls over to the wall and thumps at a lower section.

Eeeeeeeeerrrr.

A six foot square panel of the wall creaks open, there's just enough light to see into the newly discovered darkened chamber.

Kullervo stares- absolutely spellbound.

“That's... Nice.” He eventually manages.
“It's not mine. Honest.” Arthuro replies, looking up at the giant young Rogue towering over him, then quickly to the bed behind, the trap- perhaps he could just push him... 

In the chamber is a chest- but that doesn't cover it, doesn't do it justice at all- it's more like a cabinet. A well-made cabinet with nine drawers in it, each drawer has a lock, each draw has a chalked or charcoaled symbol upon it.

Kullervo looks down again at the ledger- some of the symbols match.

“Nice.” He whispers, again, and grins down at Arthuro, who still stares past him- at the bed.

“Do you wanna get out of here alive?”

Arthuro is paralysed- not seeing, not hearing.

“I said do you wanna get out of here alive?” Kullervo tries again.

Arthuro nods back- as hard as can.
“Then you'd better have some keys.”
The Fence stops nodding, suddenly looks ill.
“I...”

He grabs for Kullervo's legs set to push the Rogue back onto the bed- as hard as he can.

THUMP

But he doesn't, merely clings to Kullervo's legs.

The pair look to the ceiling- silence, the sounds of fighting above have stopped.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 13: Dog Gone.

Irocar comes again, slashing hard with his bastard sword, catching Cathal momentarily off guard. The blade clangs against the warrior of Kord's armour, saws down leaving a split metal furrow, but doesn't break the skin beneath.

The two still standing Dog Brothers take the attack to Astaroth who flailing wildly and inaccurately is forced to retreat. He thumps into Ignaran who almost tumbles back down the stairs, it's close quarters in here.

The big man heaves himself forward again, goes to swing with his great axe but instead brings the haft of the weapon quick down into Growl's temple. The Dog Brother's head is broken- split open, blood fountains and boils from the wound- he sags and slumps to his knees, almost spent.

Ignaran, recovers quickly, points at the half-fallen Growl- a jagged arc of lightning spits out and wraps itself momentarily around the street thug's head, sparks and salvoes of ragged blue energy fly from his skull. He giggles and groans as he convulses, then flops forward onto the dirty wooden floor, charred and smoking- dead.

“Pretty blue light.” Astaroth smirks.

That just leaves Irocar and two - scratch that - one Dog Brother. Snarl, his mouth a ragged hole, still spews and staggers in the far corner.

Slaver, the third Dog Brother recalculates the odds- he whines a little, but puts up his blade ready to defend.

“Surrender and we'll spare your lives.” Cathal states.
“Rawf!” Irocar replies and launches another attack- blades meet, sing and spark, no hits- Cathal and Irocar step apart.

“We'll give you a biscuit?” Ignaran offers, “a nice biscuit?”
“Kord spare us.” Cathal mutters under his breath.

Irocar comes again, Slaver at his side- but Cathal and Astaroth are ready- weapons clash, a titanic struggle, but no victor emerges from the clinch. A second spark of lightning suddenly scatters the combatants, and leaves a smoking hole in the brick wall beyond.

The four fighters spend a moment, gulp down ragged gasps of air.

“Surrender?” Cathal tries again.
“RaWF!” This time it's for real.

Irocar's launches himself forward, his bastard sword cuts into Cathal's chest, through his armour. He extends his arc and drags his blade across, cuts into Astaroth's bicep leaving a ragged tear. The man-mountain's axe is too slow- Slaver steps aside his guard, at the last moment Astaroth wrenches round the haft of his great axe- blocks Slaver's thrusting blade.   

Cathal's slices out with his longsword, but his blow is cut off in its prime as Irocar moves forward into a clinch. The two tussle and dance, their heavy armour clashing and crashing.

At the rear Ignaran looks for an opportunity, raw power fizzes around his blue-lightning fist.

Irocar and Cathal's dance goes on, love taps here and there- the butt of Cathal's longsword breaks a rib, the tip of Irocar's bastard sword scores a red-line along Cathal's thigh. The pair are locked in a deathly embrace- eventually Cathal struggles free, back-peddling furiously, again Ignaran has to take evasive action, his flailing fist shoots a bolt of lightning into the timbered floor leaving yet another smoking hole.

Irocar is fast, and strong still; the hilt of his blade spins in his hands, it's pointing down- his arms extend fully, full arc, clasped together around the hilt tight of his sword- high above his head. He slices down, with all his might.

The bastard sword digs deep, Cathal's thigh is a bloody mess. Six inches of the blade protrudes through the other side- a pool of thick red blood quickly forms, the gasping warrior of Kord his face set in rictus spasm- he wails.

“Koooooooooord!”

But it's not over yet. Irocar draws the sword out, as slowly as he can- given the circumstances- accompanied by blood wet ragged gasps from Cathal, the saw edge blade widens the wound ripping through the flesh.

A moment.

A gaping hole in Cathal's thigh- he's done for, the blood pool on the dirty floor expands.

“Rawf” Irocar declares, grins and pants a little, motions with his head to the growing lake of blood and makes lip-smacking lapping sounds.

THUMP

Cathal falls hard to his knees, head bowed, as if in prayer.

Suddenly the room seems a lot less packed, there's space for...

WHUMP

Astaroth's greataxe describes a terrifyingly broad arc, mere inches from both walls- full extension- full force- it bites into Irocar's side- smashes ribs- sends splinters of bone like shrapnel into odd-shaped organs, the pack leader is sent spinning back.

THUMP

Into the ladder to the loft, all the air gone from him, mostly escaping though flapping cords of tendon, sinew and muscle exposed by Astaroth's axe- one lung deflates.

Irocar wheezes bloody gulps- the end of his tongue flops onto the floor- where he's bitten through it.

“Whof!” He feebly half-barks.

THUMP

Then collapses.

Cathal teeters on the brink of black, Ignaran is quickly to him, bandages and salves ripped from his pack. The last of the Dog Brothers, Slaver, momentarily ignored in the sudden flurry of activity.

Astaroth turns his attention to Slaver, I said momentarily.

“WOOF!” The man-mountain adds.

Thump.

Slaver spins his blade out of his hands, like it's suddenly much too hot for him to handle.

“Call it a draw?” Slaver offers and then, off Astaroth's stare, whines a little.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Absolutely stonkingly fantastic stuff, Goonalan. Glad to see whacky things are still going on in Grimsby. 

Somehow I missed the start of this thread or I'd have been by to comment earlier - only noticed it when you posted the last update to the castle Whiterock story.

Anyway, keep up the good work - I'm particularly loving the footnotes. I also think Kullervo's reactions to his first adventure are amongst the best I've ever read - so many D&D PCs seem to take to killing as soon as they're off the farm like they'd been doing it from the age of five. Kudos to the player/you.


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Absolutely stonkingly fantastic stuff, Goonalan. Glad to see whacky things are still going on in Grimsby.
> 
> Somehow I missed the start of this thread or I'd have been by to comment earlier - only noticed it when you posted the last update to the castle Whiterock story.
> 
> Anyway, keep up the good work - I'm particularly loving the footnotes. I also think Kullervo's reactions to his first adventure are amongst the best I've ever read - so many D&D PCs seem to take to killing as soon as they're off the farm like they'd been doing it from the age of five. Kudos to the player/you.




This is an easier Story Hour to write due to the fact that the characters are much more stand out, we're playing via Maptools and Skype, with players in the UK, Spain, USA & Serbia- an eclectic bunch at that.

I'm way behind with the write ups, whisper this but we're actually on our fourth scenario, 4e makes it a lot easier for me as a DM, more time to do other things (than game). 

Glad to have you back on board, been missing you- just out of interest you're not my brother are you? He lives in Oxford and he's not above taking the piss? Commiserations if you are my brother, and if you're not- then rejoice; believe me, not being my brother is something to be celebrated.

Cheers Paul


----------



## Goonalan

This one's for Half-Orc Half-Biscuit, and Richard Rawen, wherever you may be, thanks as always for reading.

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 14: Dog Daze.

Irocar is dragged roughly down the stairs, his wounds having been half-heartedly bound by Ignaran. Stripped of his armour and dog-pelt cape, he looks…. smaller, certainly less ferocious. Right now Astaroth's meaty paw clutches a  thick wedge of his hair. Behind come Ignaran and Cathal, much better now, although he still winces at times- dragging the two other Dog Brothers left alive.

Behind the counter, back in the Bazaar of the Bizarre, the Friday Knights reconvene for a chat- Irocar is pushed into the midst of the Knights, who take it in turns to yap at his heels.

“Who are you then?” Cathal starts.
“We're the Dog Brothers.”  Irocar mumbles, trailing off into silence, eyes on the floor, he whimpers a little - he can't help himself.
“Nice doggie.” Astaroth admires the houndskin cape, then gets a whiff of it and slings it onto the floor, stamps on the thing a couple of times for good measure.

“What are you doing here?” Cathal continues his quest for answers.
“Nuffink.” Irocar tries, while trying to summon enough saliva to whistle - his throat is desert-dry.
“Now come on... Play the game.” Cathal chides with a grin.
Irocar looks up, grins back a little, thinks he's found a friend - his head suddenly, and violently rocks back, his legs go from under him, he collapses. Maybe something to do with Astaroth's straight jab, the big man picks one of Irocar's teeth from his knuckle – it’s a canine.

“Pick him up.” Cathal states.
Behind the warrior Kullervo looks suddenly very sick- he turns quickly and mooches off back to the chest he found earlier, doesn't want to see any more.

Astaroth drags Irocar to his feet, he's woozy.

“What are you doing here?” Cathal repeats.
“Hired by the Beggar King, said he expected company... You lot.” Irocar whistles through the gap in his teeth.
“Friday Knights.” Cathal states.
“What?” Irocar staggers a little.
“We're the Friday Knights- tell your friends.”
“Yeah... Right.” Irocar manages.

“Who else did the Beggar King hire?” Cathal enquires.
“No-one, that is... No one I know of.”
Cathal takes a good hard stare at Irocar, eventually smirks.
“Wrong answer.” He nudges Astaroth, who's looking away at the moment, a fly having just buzzed him.
“Wot? Oh.” The straight right comes again, Irocar goes down again - mouth bloody, nose broken - concussed by the looks of things, maybe even a fractured skull.
Astaroth goes back to looking for the annoying fly, his tongue lolls out- clearly he's concentrating hard.

On the floor Irocar swims in a sea of haze.
“I want me mum.” He gurgles.

Cathal grins, then grabs the nearest Dog Brother- Slaver, as it happens.
“Who else got hired?” He simply states.
“Mother Zeb.”
“Who?”
“Fat Tiefling Witch - two guards, big fat nudie fellers.”
“Nudie?” Ignaran asks.
“They wear nappies.”
“He's making it up!” Ignaran sneers.
Astaroth turns back around, draws back his arm.
“No, he's telling the truth.” Cathal clamps his hand on Astaroth's forearm, disarms him.

“Yew-nooks” Slaver declare, “two of 'em, right big fatties.” He nods.
Cathal nods back.

“Okay, you can clear off now.” Cathal declares.
Slaver nods some more, goes to leave sharpish.
“Don't forget him.” Cathal toes the fallen Irocar, who momentarily surfaces.

“I want me Mum!” [1] he states, and giggles a little, pleased with himself.

Moments later the spent Dog Brothers depart, having first surrendered their choice belongings, which turn out to be quite choice, particularly for Cathal, a few coins- some gold, and a Bastard Sword that is clearly of superior quality - marked and notched maybe, but of fine make, beneath the filth and tarnish.

That done, the Knights head in to see the chest that Kullervo has been twittering on about - the one he can't open.

Cathal sighs, “do I have to do everything myself?” he asks - the empty room.


[1] Irocar's Mum, Gwladys Potterton is a cleaner at the Temple of Pelor, a slight woman with a marked limp - all that bending. She won’t be pleased when he gets home, she'd spent hours on his dog cape stitching it all together. Of course she didn't approve of the Dog Brothers Gang, but it seemed to give Irocar, her only son, a purpose in life; and with his father gone. Her only interest, other than her son, is collecting plaster-cast and/or sculpted stone dogs; all shapes and sizes, some even painted - she loves dogs.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:


> Glad to have you back on board, been missing you- just out of interest you're not my brother are you? He lives in Oxford and he's not above taking the piss? Commiserations if you are my brother, and if you're not- then rejoice; believe me, not being my brother is something to be celebrated.l




No - I have no knowledge of, or connection with, anyone living in Grimsby. And as far as I'm aware my brother lives in Reading. (Unless I'm lying ).


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> No - I have no knowledge of, or connection with, anyone living in Grimsby. And as far as I'm aware my brother lives in Reading. (Unless I'm lying ).




Everybody has a connection with Grimsby, look deep down, deeper still... not there, under the pancreas, the dark place you don't go to, the dark empty place that screams in the night, wakes you up sweating and shivering... That's the place, your inner Grimsby.

Also I have lots of family in Reading, which just goes to show what an inbred bunch of gap-toothed hominids we are; the English that is.

No offence intended.

More of the same but different, actually a better title would be- "How to really kill a Rogue."




The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 15: Intricate and Complex

It certainly is a big chest - intricate, complex; Kullervo finishes his intro -

“It's... Intricate... Complex...” He shrugs.
“You can't open it, can you?” Cathal stares hard at Kullervo, and then down to the Fence on the floor, a little tied up at the moment. He shakes his head- vehemently; his gag prevents him from replying.

Cathal shakes his head back, nods at Astaroth, who grins and then reaches down.

A moment later Arthuro the Fence is being buffeted as if he were in a hurricane - Astaroth shakes him, hard.

“He doesn't know anything.” Kullervo tries, but it's too late.

Muffled screams for a while and then he's set down again, dizzy Arthuro collapses, his head just missing the frame of the bed.

“I'll try again. Just leave him.” Kullervo makes a stand and stalks back over to the great, and intricate, and complex, chest.

A crowd gathers - watches him, and he's back at the gate with their eyes burning holes in him.

The locking mechanism on the first drawer is delicate, and quite definitely trapped, if only he could... He piggles and proddles with his tools, jiggles and pokes and... Nothing.

“It's trapped,” he spins around and declares. Astaroth and Ignaran take a step to the side, out of harms way, Cathal stands still- confident. That is until Kullervo turns back to his task, at which point he swiftly wrenches Arthuro up from the floor and positions the Fence in front of him - a meat shield.

Time passes.

Inexorably.

Kullervo sweats, frets and generally fails to make headway.

“Complex.” He murmurs.

More time passes.

Ditto, inexorably.

Sweat drips down his forehead, follows the arch of his arm, into the barrel of the lock. Kullervo grits his teeth and finally...

SPUNG.

His lock pick flies from his hand, lies there on the floor, forlorn - the end bent.

“It can't be... Aghhhhh!”

SMASH

Lots of things happen at once, and so, in order.

Kullervo turns to face his audience, begins his resignation speech. 

Astaroth swings his greataxe up high, and over his head.

Kullervo spots this, screams, and dives aside.

Astaroth's greataxe connects with the chest cum cabinet.

Smashes through the solid wooden frame, and rips on down, shattering the myriad compartments, dislodging locking mechanisms, scattering the drawers and contents and at the same time triggering every trap.

Thum...Pah.

A needle shoots out and embeds itself in Arthuro's forehead, the Fence suddenly adopts a vacant expression, staggers forward- out of Cathal's grip.

SNIK

A razor sharp scythe blade slashes out in a half-circle, severs the bonds that bind Arthuro's wrists, and leaves bloody cuts in its wake, nevertheless the Fence grins, his eyes dart and dodge- spot the door, the exit - freedom.

Arthuro makes his break.

THUP-WAKKA.

And is just in time to intercept the five foot spear that shoots out from the centre of the now decimated chest.

The spear smashes through Arthuro's thin  leather armour and burrows its way into his chest, deflected only slightly by his sternum.

The spear is travelling at quite a speed.

It doesn't stop there.

Nor does the Fence.

Arthuro is flung backwards, off his feet and into the air.

THUNK

He thumps into the far wall.

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

And tumbles face first onto his bed, the one he hasn't slept on for over a year...

CRUNCH-RIP.

The spear is broken and ripped from his chest as he lands, which by the look on Arthuro's face, hurts a little.

All is silent.

Arthuro lies there, his whole body screaming in agony, although the poison in his brow, and now brain - numbing the experience.

More silence.

Eventually the Fence looks up, to the staring Friday Knights.

He's grinning, scratch that laughing- odd.

“It didn't...”

KERCHUNG!

Half-a-dozen short spears skewer Arthuro, making short work of the thin, now blood-soaked, mattress en route.

Arthuro gargles.

“... work.” He whispers, and then expires.

“I said it was trapped.” Kullervo confirms in a daze.

“Right then. What do we have here?” Cathal wades into the broken treasure chest, Astaroth follows suit - which just leaves Ignaran and Kullervo still staring.

“Pelor's light.” Kullervo whispers and crosses himself.
“Exactly.” Ignaran confirms.

Arthuro's body twitches, and spurts a little- before finally coming to rest.

“I'm not going near any more traps - ever.” Kullervo declares, definite.
“Then you'd better go home now- farmer's boy.” Cathal states, and adopts a half-grin half-frown.

Ignaran puts his arm around Kullervo, who continues to stare at Arthuro's broken corpse.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Excellent update! It just proves the old D&D truism - there are no problems that can't be solved with a large axe ... including intricate and complex traps.


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## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Excellent update! It just proves the old D&D truism - there are no problems that can't be solved with a large axe ... including intricate and complex traps.




Mad isn't it- I take liberties with the story a little sometimes, but the above section played out pretty much as it happened.

Astaroth rolls '20', I rule the chest comes apart, every trap triggers.

I dice to see which character is attacked by the Poison Dart, its Arthuro the Fence, and the trap hits.

Next the Scythe, and... Arthuro.

Next the Spear which is... Arthuro, and a crit.

Which brings the trap on the bed into play.

Bloody Fighters and their axes.

Cheers Paul


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## Mircoles

Sometimes an axe is the best solution, though not for Arthuro, unfortunately for him.


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## Goonalan

LOL, and thanks for reading.

It gets a little darker.

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 16: Rats!

The chest is thoroughly ransacked, it offers up all manner of goodies- Cathal sports a new cloak- some sort of protective device Ignaran confirms. The Drow-made spider pendant which previously secured it is quickly discarded [1]. 

There are poison vials, marked with skull & crossbones, and full of darkly oozing gunk- Kullervo nervously looks over them; working up the courage to open one. [2] 

Also a well-made dagger, which Ignaran confirms is magical also - and plenty of other spoils, money and things to sell.

Fully rested the Friday Knights stalk up the stairs to the Dog Brothers' ex-lair. Further searching there reveals a smattering of coin- not nearly as much as they had expected to find, less than five gold in total.

Cathal looks put out- little reward for his just efforts. “Search the place, thoroughly,” he spits.
“Sarge” Astaroth nods, betraying a sliver of his past.

The Knights do as they're told, filthy bedrolls are toed-over, Irocar's cot is smashed and heaved aside, the unlit brazier is tipped over- nothing, it gets frustrating rather quickly, until...

“Here it is.” Kullervo declares. Upstairs in Irocar's loft area is a sliding panel, and what do you know...

“Hang on, it's trapped.” Kullervo states, which is enough to send all of the Knights scampering back down the ladder and out of the loft.

Alone, Kullervo flexes his fingers, hands and wrists; draws out his tools and sets to work, and this time, for no special reason, it's easy. It takes him perhaps thirty seconds to find the two well concealed holes in the hidden door. Another thirty to discern the two short spears that are designed to fire out from the door- this place is a nightmare he thinks, and then chuckles a little to himself.

Thirty more seconds and the trap mechanism is located, a minute more, and... well- he checks again, “it's safe,” Kullervo calls out.

Back on the lower level Cathal stares at Ignaran, who stares back; eventually the pair shrug at each other. Astaroth meanwhile slowly, and with a grin, counts his fingers- he's got the same number twice in a row now, he chuckles a little at the thought of a third success.

Cathal starts up the ladder, stops a while, starts again- decides.

“Are you sure?”

The sound of footsteps, Kullervo heads over, till he's stood above the ladder, looking down on Cathal.

“Yes, I'm sure.” The young Rogue smiles and waves the warrior of Kord on.

Up top, the once-hidden door opens into a dark storeroom, Cathal draws his sword and heads on in. Ignaran chuckles and gently punches Kullervo on the arm and follows on.  Astaroth is examining the back of his right hand with great care and attention- it seems he's a finger light- he mooches forward, concerned.

The chamber is a mess, Cathal stands on a narrow rickety balcony, about five feet from the actual floor, a short flight of decayed wooden steps lead down. The floor of the chamber is taken up by sacks, barrels, crates and the like... oh and rats, lots of rats.

The rats take note of the new arrivals, run hither and thither, every now and then stop to wobble up on to their hind legs to chitter and stare at Cathal and the other Knights with their flashing eyes.

“Rats.” Astaroth stops and points, like he's just found the Philosopher's Stone.

There's a door on the far side of the chamber, Cathal leads them over, or at least to the bottom of the stairs, the warrior of Kord hesitates.

In his mind he remembers seeing them, the rats... next to the bodies- he's lying to himself; Cathal shakes his head, tries to clear the thought. 

On the bodies, they were on the bodies- eating...

Cathal leans hard against the ancient wooden railings; his knuckles pale as he grips tight.

The rats were on the bodies, eating them- his mother, his brother; the rats were... He remembers getting closer, edging forward, past his father- gripped tight in a ball on the road, clenched inside- outside, the sound of his screams. Creeping closer, closer- his feet on the cobbles, a fragment of her shirt, her hair- tears now, a tuft of her hair- MOTHER. He wants to scream, but he doesn't, only edges closer, closer... 

He can touch her, reach down and... but for the rats- eating her.

Suddenly she turns to face him- her eyes are gone, gone, black holes; her face is... there's no word, no phrase- her face... eaten; and then she speaks, says his name.

“... Cathal?” Ignaran's voice comes again.
“What?” Cathal snaps back.
“Nothing I...”
“Well come on then.” Cathal snaps again and sets off for the door.

That's when the rats attack, but he knew that was going to happen- they come for the dead.

It's a slaughter.

Cathal attacks with a fury, Ignaran conjures fire and lightning, Kullervo settles for a ring side seat and hurling his dagger, which as soon as it strikes disappears and swiftly reappears in his hand. Astaroth is the least adept, his greataxe a poor choice of weapon for this close work.

The rats flee, or what few are left.

Twenty seconds, that's all it takes. The fracas leaves Cathal fuming.

“That was easy.” Ignaran half-grunts half-smirks.
Kullervo sidles over with a lopsided grin- an easy victory for once, the Knights are getting into the swing of things.
“This adventuring lark... Not so dif...” Kullervo starts, all smiles.
“Shut up. Come on.” Cathal bites off, as if it were a curse, and wrenches the door ahead open. A long thin, equally decrepit candlelit chamber lies beyond- the warrior of Kord, bathed for a moment in a sickening yellow glow, seethes slightly- bites at his beard and marches in.

Astaroth follows on, ducking beneath the low lintel.

A moment or two.

“Did you see him?” Kullervo whispers.
Ignaran has yet to look away.
“Yes.”
“There's something not... right.” Kullervo adds, and frets a little.
“Yes.” Ignaran fires back.

“What...” Kullervo eventually breaks the silence, the two have still not moved.
“He's suffering.” Ignaran offers.

The two look on until Astaroth appears again in the doorway, looks hard at the pair for a good while, and then with one huge black hand- indicates that they should definitely come in now.

Later, when Ignaran thinks back to this moment, he will finally work out the emotion that lingered on Astaroth's face- it was fear. Fear of Cathal.


[1] The Drow manufactured Spider pendant is a product of Phaervorul, a splendid Drow enclave of advanced and enlightened (for Drow) thinking. It's a shame no one bothered to pick it up... more of this later; much, much later.

[2] The Poison in the vials is Stormclaw Scorpion Venom, a favourite of the 'The Slayers' a perhaps mythical -  at the very least greatly exaggerated - organisation. The Slayers motto is unknown, their lair likewise, their members... well, the same. They are the best kept secret in the Nentir Vale, and if you tell anyone that- they'll kill you.


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## Pedestrian

Good stuff Goonalan. A genuine pleasure to read.


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## Goonalan

Loup Du Noir said:


> Good stuff Goonalan. A genuine pleasure to read.




Why thank you, much appreciated- and good to have you over here.

And now...

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 17: Madame Zeb.

The chamber ahead is deserted, or so it seems... there are a staggering number of bedrolls here, all... what's the phrase, - certainly not the kind of place the discerning adventurers would lay their head to rest. A dozen or more half-burnt candles are wedged here and there, offering up globes of weak sickly yellow light. The air is thick with the stink of sweat, filth, death, and worst of all desperation.

A noise...

“Shhh!” Kullervo whispers harshly, which brings the ragged trail of adventurers to a halt.
“What is...” Cathal, first in-line whispers back, but is signalled into silence. The warrior of Kord chews at his beard, swallows bile, and tries to order his emotions.

Kullervo creeps forward, every now and then the floorboards protest his passing, but the sound, while cacophonous to his ears, carries but a few feet; and besides no-one is listening.

The young Rogue creeps on- at the far side of the chamber, to the left, a set of stairs lead down and into darkness, to the right an archway- light, and the odd noise that earlier arrested their motion.

Kullervo gestures, one hand up for the others to wait, and presses on and into the brief shadow of the arch- he looks through and into Madame Zeb'oltha's lair- the chamber ahead is littered with remnants of eldritch wizardry. Shattered vials, broken canoptic jars, shards of bone and glowing glass globes half full of slowly bubbling demon-slime [1].

The walls of the chamber are covered in all manner of manic scrawls, mixed in with which are bizarre diagrams fashioned from chalk, and more often- blood. One of the diagrams purports to show the correct formula for the completion of the fabled Gnome Rubix Cube [2].

The chamber isn't empty, the noises are the ticks, whirrs and general babblings of an enormously thick-set female Tiefling, the aforementioned, Madame Zeb. The Tiefling wears some circus tent size robe-come-smock, adorned with all manner of bloody splatters and chemical burns. Her hat, pointed like a wizard's, is held in place by a thick rubber cord. She clatters about the laboratory in a pair of ill-fitting clogs, seemingly made from the shaped thigh bones of some recently oppressed, and perhaps even extinct, species.

At the belt at her side is a gleaming, razor-sharp, sickle; and clutched in her fat sweaty hand is a short black rod, topped with a small white skull.

“I hate almonds!” Madame Zeb croaks suddenly, then in a whispered hiss, “Blessings be to my Demon Lord- there shall be no almonds!” The second half of the sentence is delivered with gusto, her face upturned- towards the heavens - actually the blood-splattered ceiling. She cackles a while and gets back to her cake mix.

Creeeak

A floorboard, Kullervo swiftly rocks back further, onto the balls of his feet- ready to race, he's spotted something else, or rather something... else's. Two of them, big fat something else's.

Either side of the shadowed arch in which he stands are mountains of men, scratch that- hillocks of men; great bald headed corpulent barrels of flesh, their shivering and yet sweating folds are etched and scarred. The formulations of Madame Zeb are cut into their skin. A riot of bloody tattoos that in a myriad languages, mostly dark and garbled, proclaim all manner of foul and arcane pledges, oaths and curses [3]. The fearsome pair are, Kullervo notes, wearing nappies.

The young Rogue gulps and tip-toes back to his companions to tell all.



[1] All products shown were previously available to purchase from “Incantata & Implementia”, proprietor Alan Shuttlecock, Gnome Magikinator; a mixture of the Basic Wizard-Kit (Magic Hat Not Included), the So-You-Want-To-Be-An-Alchemist Kit, and the Beginners Home Diabolist Pack (Family Edition). That is, before the fire. As an aside Demon-Slime, a much sought after commodity for the would-be diabolist, is actually made from rendered animal fat and Day-Glo Fungus, but it looks good.

[2] Rubix Cube, a fabled device- basically a manipulable cube of coloured squares- which, in order to unlock and lay bare the treasures held within, must be manoeuvred so that all sides show a single colour. The difficulty lies in the fact that the cube has six sides, of course, and yet there are seven colours. Archimedes Rubix, the Gnome inventor of the device, was famous for two things, the first- his cube, the second his absolute, total and all-encompassing madness. 

[3] For instance, written in Deep Speech on Pinky's right arm, the Eunuch to the left of the shadowy archway, is written, “Orcus is Lord!”; while on Perky's left buttock, in Supernal, it states, “need fresh spleen”, which is crossed through and written beneath, “pay milkman- no yoghurt!”


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## Goonalan

Just to help you out with who's who and how it went I've uploaded a bunch of jpegs to show a little of the action that maptools affords us.

I think the titles are fairly explanatory, any problems then give me a shout- in future I'll add some more to the new posts as I go on.

Kullervo our Rogue is between tokens, as you can see.
Cathal is a lovely chap, as you can also see.
Ignaran is a bit meh, token-wise.
And Astaroth is Thrud-like.

Thanks for reading, and now viewing.

Maptools rocks by the way.

Cheers Paul


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## Goonalan

Ohh and one last one- Madame Zeb in all her glory.

Thanks again.


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## Goonalan

[/URL][/IMG]

Back to the start- the Friday Knights take it to the sentries down Cutpurse Alley, Fat Alan has a tippy-tumble and breaks his pie.


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## Goonalan

How do I do it that when I post an image here it's as large as the Poster image above?

My computer related idiocy knows no bounds.

I'd like to be able to post some of the coming images in the body of future posts.

Cheers Paul


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 18: This-armed

“A what?!” Cathal whispers, with as much vehemence as he can muster- which is a significant amount.
“I said a nappy...” Kullervo whispers back, repeating himself.
“A... Oh.” Cathal gets it, and scratches his chin.
“Well, he wasn't lying then.” Ignaran adds with a shrug.
“Plan, Sarge?” Astaroth mumbles, and looks hard at the Warrior of Kord.

The whispering continues for a while.  A little later Cathal will begin gesturing, then pointing, more gesturing, and yet more whispering- three minutes pass.

“So we kill the witch?” Ignaran hisses and shakes his head, a lot of chatter for such a simple plan.
Cathal half-shrugs half-nods.
“I'm up for it”, the Druid agrees and nods.

Moments later.

“Let's see..”, Madame Zeb thumbs hard through a musty dusty tome [1], in the other hand is a... odd, it seems to be a miniature person, and very miniature- tiny, perhaps only six inches tall, and dressed in a neat little suit- autumnal colours. Stranger still the tiny humanoid sports a pair of delicate butterfly wings, alas from the way its limbs dance as Madame Zeb flounces and jiggles, the creature must be dead.

“Let's see, let's see... F... F... Ah-ha, got it- Fairy Cakes.” Madame Zeb mumbles her way through the recipe, following the words on the page with her calloused index finger.

SPLAT 

The dead fairy is slapped onto the table before her- the witch fumbles with the sleeves of her robe, ostensibly rolling them up, reveals spindly, warty, stick-thin arms. She suddenly clutches the skull-topped rod in both hands, raises it high above her head.

Back in the shadows of the archway Kullervo comes to an immediate halt, the Friday Knights concertina.  Signalled shushes silence the foursome- the young rogue waits to see what dark deed is about to unfold, momentarily mesmerised.

“Oh great Demon Lord.” Madame Zeb squawks, “empower my Rod so that it will crush all before it.” She cackles some more.

SLAM

Then sets to flattening the deceased fairy, using the skull topped rod as a rolling pin.

“I feel like chicken tonight... chicken tonight.” Zeb hollers and sings, while shuffling from foot to foot in time with the tune- she continues to roll out the fairy corpse.

“Ready?” Kullervo whispers, and is met by nods - it goes a little like this.

Ignaran is first into the room, his hands dance- but to a different tune, a second or so later a thick fug of flying creatures burst from the body of the battered fairy, buzz up and engulf the flailing arms and face of Madame Zeb, they're... gnats.

The buzzing fury get to work, Madame Zeb flounders, bumps forward into the table, swatting with the skull topped rod, trying to clear her vision.

A second later she suddenly keels forward, thunks her head hard into the table before her- perhaps something to do with the dagger that has leapt from Kullervo's outstretched hand and made its way, tout de suite, into and through the intercostal muscles between her fifth and sixth rib.

Madame Zeb bobs back up again, the dagger disappears and reappears in Kullervo's hand. The young Rogue gulps hard and backs away a little, before him Madame Zeb rages amidst her gnatty crown.

“Evenin' slim.” Cathal steps into the chamber and  faces off against a startled Pinky, his flashing blade bites deep and draws a slick of blood from the Eunuch's [2] copious folds; he sends the fat man skittering back, and then steps up to face his foe.

A second later Astaroth arrives before an equally flustered Perky, the remaining Eunuch, his axe dances and slashes hard down, a short stroke but packed with power.

CLUMP

Perky's right hand and forearm, severed just below the elbow, lands hard on the filthy floor- Astaroth and Perky take a moment to register this.

The great fat man uses his other hand to feel the spot- where his right arm should be, he looks... befuddled.

Astaroth grins, his brain has just had a...

“This-armed.” He states, shaping the word carefully.

THUNK

Astaroth swings again, his axe buries itself into the plaster of the wall, which spits and flies in an effort to accommodate it.

It passes through a good eight inches of fleshy folds en route alas. Alas for Perky that is- who clutches at the fat grey sausages that tumble from his gaping belly.

“Disarmed.” Perky squeaks, and I mean squeaks- castrato, correcting Astaroth, and slumps against the wall and then down to the floor, leaving a bloody smear in his wake. There he expires and soon after starts to expand as odd shaped still pulsing organs tumble out of the rent.

That's it.

That's really it.

I mean.

That...

Does it.

Madame Zeb goes nuclear, she chants words of dread power, a dark furze- like a black heat haze, signals her target. Astaroth turns to stare, something in his mind itches- itches bad.

He goes to scratch it, and as Mother Zeb watches, through the biting bugs, the huge fighter is engulfed in a towering inferno, a column of scorching, blistering flames.

Which causes the other pockets of action to take a moment.

The flames subside.

And from the furnace emerges Astaroth, smoking a little, but otherwise- seemingly none the worse for it, however a spot a few feet before him is scorched and cindered, ceiling and floor a black charred mess- some of the stone has melted a little.

“Missed.” Astaroth declares and grins.

Suddenly the gnats buzz off, disappear from sight.

“Sick 'em Wolfie.” Ignaran states.

Wolfie pops into existence and chomps down on a mouthful of Madame Zeb's robes- then pulls, and down she goes again- fortunately her route to the floor is impeded, the tables in the way, again.

CLUNK

Face first again into the solid oak, she bobs back up- somewhat dizzier, and blind in one eye.

Ten seconds of further punishment and humiliation later Madame Zeb flings her arms into the air, spills the skull topped rod and declares- “sur-wender, sur-wender... I can't see. I'm bwind.”

“You've got a fairy in your eye.” Ignaran helps.

And sure enough she has, Madame Zeb looks hard left, hard right, nods her head- all to no avail, the flattened remains of the dead fairy cover her left eye, cheek and chin. Gingerly she reaches up and peels off the pancake flat fey.

“Sur-wender.”

Followed by.

“Poor-wa Pwerky. Poor-wa Pwerky.” She mutters and cries.


[1] The tome in question “Caykes & Stuffe” by Jay-Me-Holiver, a Death Slaad of fearsome reputation who, having retired from planar hopping treks of death and destruction, has gone into the catering business. Jay-Me spends much of his time creating exquisite sweets and patisseries for his select clients- devils, demons, venerable liches, and ancient dragons (those still possessing serviceable palettes). Jay-Me's “Death by Chocolate”, according to those that have tasted it, is to die for.

[2] Eunuchs, as things go, qualify as luxury items in witch circles- high maintenance, at times incredibly annoying (the high pitch voice, like nails down a blackboard), and they make poor guards; and yet a Eunuch or two in your retinue is certain to elevate a witch's status. They are also incredibly moreish- 'once you have had a Eunuch you'll never go back', or so the saying goes, interestingly all Eunuchs, by rights, are buried... ahem, complete, their Eunuch-Horn re-attached for the occasion


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Lovely stuff Goonalan. Keep it coming.


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## Mircoles

Goonalan said:


> How do I do it that when I post an image here it's as large as the Poster image above?
> 
> My computer related idiocy knows no bounds.
> 
> I'd like to be able to post some of the coming images in the body of future posts.
> 
> Cheers Paul




I use Flickr.com to post images online. They give you the option of different sizes of the pictures that you post in your photostream.


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## Goonalan

Mircoles said:


> I use Flickr.com to post images online. They give you the option of different sizes of the pictures that you post in your photostream.




Testing...











So I tried copying and pasting in the "Grab the HTML", and "Grab the Link", and this what I get- if you get chance then tell me what I'm doing wrong, also can't see anything that will let me size the screenshot.

Cheers Paul

PS Much appreciated, I understand how things should work, alas I rarely seem to know how to make things actually work.


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## Goonalan

If anyone knows how I can insert images into these posts then please contact me, see my attempts above. I know how to import the images as attachments but the 'insert image' for me is proving difficult to understand, I've posted the images at flickr and insert the url but see above for the results- any help much appreciated.

Now some more...


The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 19: Misfortunes.

“Mawdam Zweb- she know wall, see wall, hear wall...”
“Didn't hear us coming.” Kullervo interjects, and gets a look.
“Hear mowst things”, Madame Zeb corrects herself, then goes on, “lewt mwe diwine yaw forwtune...”

The Friday Knights gawp en masse.
“What's she want?” Kullervo asks.
“To tell your forwtune, I mean fortune.” Ignaran cuts through the fog.
Madame Zeb nods frantically- Cathal still has his longsword drawn, and is pointing it directly at her.

In the background Pinky, the surviving Eunuch, goes fishing in a pickle jar for a wrinkled flesh-coloured gherkin, at least that's what it appears be.

“What starw swine arwe yew?” Madame Zeb stares hard at... none of the Knights meet her gaze, except... Astaroth, who squints hard at the odd-shaped Tiefling.

The moment elongates.

“She wants to know what star sign you are?” Ignaran translates.
“Trouble.” Astaroth growls and stomps off to find something to bully or smash, both would be better.

Flustered Madame Zeb turns to face Cathal, crouches a little and pleads with her eyes for a bite.
“Claptrap.” The Warrior of Kord hiccups and stomps off to see what Astaroth is doing.

Which just leaves Kullervo and Ignaran.

“I'm a Weasel, I mean I was born in the Seventh House, the Weasel- Year of the Artichoke, Second Abandonment, you know...”, Kullervo looks for confirmation, alas neither Madame Zeb nor Ignaran are keeping up with the conversation. “My mother was a Weasel too, although she was born in the Year of the Sodden Frog; my dad... huh, dad- he's a Tadpole, always was- always will be; Year of the Milky Potato... Bastard.” Kullervo pants slightly out of breath- clearly excited.

Ignaran tries for words, but the fog in his brain won’t clear, he settles for wordlessly flapping his mouth open and closed. Madame Zeb smiles constantly, the smile of the condemned prisoner having their sentence read out to them in a strange and garbled tongue - not understanding, but with the guillotine plainly in sight. 

“We... We had an Almanac [1], in the Peterhouse, sorry- that's what we used to call it, the crapper, I used to read it all the time,” Kullervo finishes by way of explanation.

Madame Zeb takes her chance and grabs the young Rogue's hand, unfurls his clasped fingers and begins to trace the lines on Kullervo's palm.

Which works. Their attentions are grabbed.

“Hmmw.” She fabricates.

“I cwan swee yew are gowing tow hav aw lwong lwife.”

Kullervo blinks hard, what is she saying- he looks to Ignaran for answers, the Druid looks... confused, and yet; “She says you are going to have a very long, I mean tall, wife. That's nice.”
Kullervo nods and grins- loving the attention.

“What else does it say?” He asks and eagerly offers his palm up for further inspection.
“Hmmw.”

“Yew tayk afterw yer fawther.” Madame Zeb mumbles and continues to stroke Kullervo's palm.

“What?” Ignaran leans in, he didn't catch that.

“I shaid yew tayk afterw yer fawther.” She tries again.

Kullervo looks at Ignaran.

“She says- you're a lot like your dad.” Ignaran parrots.

And that's when it happens.

Kullervo is suddenly back at home, stood in the kitchen, his mother at the sink crying, again; feet on the stairs- thumping, running, his brothers and sisters- out of reach. His father stood to the right of his mother, holding onto the big kitchen table, tottering- reaching out to grab her.

Less than a second later Madame Zeb is clutching her broken nose and Kullervo's knuckles hurt. Cathal and Astaroth are over in a flash, although neither of them are doing anything- witnesses, that's all. 

There's no more violence.

Cathal looks a little disappointed.

Ignaran drags the bawling Madame Zeb away, the last Eunuch attempts to cradle his mistress but is kicked away- the Druid and the Tiefling Witch head into the previous chamber, Ignaran staring back at the young Rogue- concerned.

“What'd she say?” Cathal finally asks.
“Nothing.” Kullervo shrugs and sets about searching the chamber.

Discoveries are made, the best of which is a mummified scythe-like weapon seemingly made from the fused bones of something terrible. Other than that there's little else to report- save the skull-topped rod which is stowed away for Ignaran's later perusal. 

Five minutes later the Druid returns on his own.

“I've let her go...”
Cathal starts up.
“She says that the Beggar King has a throne room of sorts, guarded by a bunch of his Beggar guards, and an assassin- someone called Black Shet, another mercenary.” Ignaran finishes up, leans against a filthy bench and stares hard at Kullervo.

“Black Shet.” Cathal plays with the name, thinks hard.
“Heard of him... her?” Ignaran asks.
“No, probably another down and out looking to make a quick crown. Anyway- onwards.” The Warrior of Kord checks his sword and shield and heads on, there's an untried door over the other side of the makeshift laboratory.

He gets half way, then turns back, looks hard at Kullervo, who's watching his feet, silently fuming still.

“And you!” Cathal barks, Kullervo looks up; “take it out on Black Shet- whoever they are.”

Then he's off, the rag-tag bunch, not talking, following after.


[1] “Old Carduggan's Almanac”, Kullervo's father swears by it. For the princely sum of one silver the discerning reader has access to all manner of useful snippets of information, not the least of which is long-range Humanoid Invasion forecast. The well thumbed copy that Kullervo carries in his backpack also includes “21 Recipes for Fire Beetles”, “Spiretop Drakes- minor nuisance or just plain menaces?”, and, “Kobold Love- a romantic comedy.”


----------



## Mircoles

Goonalan said:


> If anyone knows how I can insert images into these posts then please contact me, see my attempts above. I know how to import the images as attachments but the 'insert image' for me is proving difficult to understand, I've posted the images at flickr and insert the url but see above for the results- any help much appreciated











Click on the picture  you want to get to this page. The all sizes button gets you size selection.






I copy the "Grab the photo's URL" option and after hitting the insert images button a  yellow bar appears at the top of the page, at least it does for me.
I click on it and allow scripted windows then click on the insert image button again. Then this pops up on the screen.






I paste the "Grab the photos URL" option there and voila. If there's an easier way,I haven't figured it out yet. But, this method works well for me.

Hopefully that helps. I'm rarely very good at explaining how I do things


----------



## Goonalan

This is just a test


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 20:  B.S.

Out into the pissing rain, the weather's got worse while they've been inside, Cathal spies the courtyard- a -pit, he descends the wooden steps and into the broken arena.

Astaroth, his shadow, follows after.

Down into a broken cobbled yard, weeds and worse showing through, all manner of filth- pools of foetid water, a door to the north- which must lead to the abandoned sleeping quarters, Cathal thinks. A pair of rotten wooden double doors to the east - into some sort of dilapidated warehouse.

A flash of lightning followed by the rumble of thunder- the light momentarily illuminates a tower just beyond the buildings; the peak of the tower is clouded in a dark haze.

Ignaran, at the top of the stairs, spots this- stands statue.

“See that?” He asks Kullervo stood next to him, the young Rogue is already sodden from the torrential rain.
“Yes.” Kullervo replies resigned, and heads down the stairs in a half-rush, then across the yard heading for neither door, making a bee-line for a point between them, where the two buildings meet - the stone building they've been exploring and the dilapidated warehouse.

Ignaran follows after, hisses, “where you...”, but the young Rogue is moving too quickly now.

Cathal and Astaroth catch up with the Druid.

Kullervo braces himself, using the angle between the two walls, less than five seconds later and he's on the sloped slate roof of the stone building, and at a window.

“Didn't see that.” Ignaran comments.
Cathal shakes his head and concurs.

The three watch on.

Kullervo's at the window, it's filthy, something in the way making it difficult to see in, although there's a light in the room beyond. He shields his eyes, looks in- pressed against the crude glass pane, glimpses rafters, he's looking down into a chamber- the window is in the eaves, there's a... bed, a table, a couple of very still figures- standing to attention, a throne, perhaps, of sorts.

Something in the way though, he can't see much to his left- black. A black... Black... Back.

It's somebody’s back, a man- dressed in black, nestled in the rafters- looking down into the chamber, just like he's doing.

The man has a wicked looking dagger at his belt, one hand curled around the pommel.

It's Black Shet, Kullervo thinks - scratch that- knows; just a pane of glass between me and him, he holds his breath.

“What's 'e doin?” Astaroth points up.
Ignaran and Cathal shrug.

SMASH

Kullervo's hand darts out punches through the glass, cutting himself badly, grasps the collar of Black Shet's leather cuirass and pulls- violently.

Black Shet tumbles backwards through the window, Kullervo quickly dodges aside. Shet lands hard on the sloped slate roof and slides quick-smart backwards and off the edge of the roof- head first.

CRUNCH

And lands very awkwardly on his neck and back in the broken cobbled courtyard below, all the wind gone from his sails.

Kullervo is first on the scene; although Ignaran, Cathal and Astaroth have only got five yards to cover.

Kullervo's on him, and punching hard- he's not really cut out for this fist fighting lark but he seems to be quickly getting the hang of it.

“NO!” Ignaran screams, and increases his pace.

Cathal's arm is suddenly grabbed, tight. He skids to a halt.
“Der!” Astaroth spins him round and points, the left-hand door to the dilapidated warehouse is opening, within can be seen a ravenous bunch of gap-toothed, hacking, ragged Beggars- maybe a half-dozen of them in total, all wielding sharpened implements of one sort or another.

The right hand door begins to open, clearly there are more Beggars within the dilapidated warehouse.

It's Astaroth's turn now to show his speed, he's at the second door in a flash.

THUNG

He kicks it closed, which comes as a serious inconvenience for several of the rancid Beggars, particularly Little Roger who takes the full force of the rebounding door in his face, his head jerks back, neck snaps and he flops to the floor to do a little dance, short but terminal.

The remainder of the Beggars stream out.

“For the Beggar King!” Squeaky squeaks.
“Top'n'tail the fools!” Scabby Vince snaps.
“Spare a copper for a cuppa!” Big Roger brays.

While Moon Child, an albino loon, totters forward with a glazed expression swishing randomly about him with a pair of broken bottles.

“Incoming!” Cathal barks and draws his sword.

Ignaran, fighting to keep Kullervo from beating Black Shet to death looks up and round, then back again - to just above the window recently investigated by the young Rogue. There's something not right.

A black tentacle is momentarily illuminated by a stroke of lightning, the dark arm is reaching down from the top of the tower, heading this way, it seems to made up of a million little inky specks.

“Gods!” Ignaran rasps, then stares mouth open.

The darkness is coming for him.

He always knew it would.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 21: The Shadow descends.

Cathal and Astaroth stride forward, into the thick of the action, two of the Beggars are cut down quickly- Cathal is all action; a third suddenly slumps onto the cobbled floor- Astaroth wrenches his axe free and moves on.

In a matter of moments there are only three or four of the Beggar guards left- backing up swiftly, heading for the comforting darkness of the dilapidated warehouse. Only a pair left when they finally retreat into their lair.

Cathal nods at Astaroth, who grins back- the man mountain lumbers into the warehouse to play an extremely violent game of tag.

Behind the pair Ignaran is now all action, and Kullervo has at last broken his clinch with the unmoving Black Shet.

The dark shadowy tentacle reaching down from the top of the tower comes on, Ignaran, for a second is reassured, bats- they're bats. The Druid fires up a bolt and burst of lightning into the swarm- that should scatter them.

But it doesn't.

The bats are insubstantial, wrought of shadow, not flesh and bone.

“Ahhhh!” The Druid back-peddles furiously but has nowhere to go and is engulfed in the Umbral Bat Swarm, bitten and bruised. Worse, a deathly numb eats at his innards- not bloodied, his blood is instead turning to ice in his veins.

Then Cathal and Kullervo are in the mix, but it’s a crude approach, the threesome in a panic are swatting furiously- doing little damage- particularly as the shadowy bats that hit disappear in a poof of dust, but are soon replaced by more of their kin. The inky trail snakes back to the top of the tower.

A war of attrition.

Which is made worse when...

WHOOOSH

The Bat Swarm suddenly blossoms- bursts its banks, sending all three of the Friday Knights scuttling back, Cathal momentarily blinded by the inky wave.

And yet they battle on, and soon after the tail is broken, the swarm at last detached from the tower- no more reinforcements are available. Thereafter the swarm is slowly, shadowy bat by shadowy bat, picked apart.

Then it's over, and Cathal, Ignaran and Kullervo are well and truly spent- they lean or squat, try to catch their breath.

“That was... Not good.” Ignaran confirms, gasping.
“What...” Cathal tries.
“Bats. Shadow bats, Gods knows where they came from- they're not... Well, natural - from the Shadowfell.” Ignaran states.
“Where?” Kullervo winces, holding his side.
“The Shadowfell- a land of darkness, home to twisted shades- mockeries of life.” Ignaran concludes, to raised eyebrows.

Then out of the dilapidated warehouse strides Astaroth, unscathed- of course. He hefts his axe over his shoulder, stomps over and strikes a pose- lacking only a large pile of skulls or bodies at his feet.

“All gone.” The man-mountain confirms and grins.

The Friday Knights take a well-earned break, and make a few discoveries a little later.

Black Shet, if that's who he is, is dead- he has another nice dagger, which Ignaran confirms is also magical; Kullervo adds it to his collection. There's a smattering of coin which also makes its way into the collective packs of the Knights.

The bodies, nearly a dozen of them, are dragged out of the courtyard and back into the dark of the dilapidated warehouse.

Within are piles of mouldy straw, the walls and ceiling charred black with soot from past fires. Streams of water drip from holes in the ceiling, cooling in cold puddles on the muddy floor. Of note is a ladder, which stands in one corner, it leads to a loft- other than that the chamber is empty.

“You could have taken him alive?” Ignaran nods towards the corpse of Black Shet.
“He said I should take it out on Black Shet- I reckon that's what I did.” Kullervo spits and puffs out his chest.
Cathal blinks away sweat and wipes his brow, reaches out and grabs Kullervo's right shoulder, drags him into a rough embrace.
“Good lad.” Cathal barks and stares hard at Ignaran, daring him to say anything more.

Ignaran stares at Cathal.

Cathal stares back.

“Grab the body- I've an idea, he may prove useful yet” Cathal orders, Astaroth is quick to obey.

Five minutes later the quartet are heading cautiously into the loft, led by Kullervo, there's an open window, the young Rogue heads on through and into the Court of the Beggar King- their journey is at an end, he thinks.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest

Part 22: Glaffin

The Court of the Beggar-King is bedecked in mouldering splendour. Stained tapestries illuminated by fluttering tapers and smoking bronze braziers that glisten with mould and rainwater. Pillows and blankets, black with mildew, cover every inch of the floor.

Cracked mirrors and tarnished copper shields- covered in verdigris, hang from a fishing net strung from the rafters above. The air is thick with incense, but no amount of perfume can conceal the oppressive reek of sweat and spilled wine.

At the far end of the chamber, past a low table strewn with half-empty jugs of wine and nibbled sweetmeats, is a divan hung with furs. Asleep in a drunken stupor atop the divan is a portly figure in an embroidered robe. A glittering crown- topped with gems - sits nearby, atop a small gold coffer.

A trio of hooded guards, dressed in the formless grey cloaks of executioners, stand watch over the sleeping form.

“Careful... Wait” Kullervo shushes from the shadows.

The young Rogue takes a few steps forward, the floor creaks loudly, protests his passage- he stops, something odd- he stops to stare.

Then goes to shuffle forward again.

Again the floor protests.

He stops.

Behind him Cathal, Ignaran and Astaroth are content to watch on, reassured by Kullervo's command of the situation.

The young Rogue kicks a cushion over, then another- squats and places his hand flat on the wooden floor.

“Hmm.”

He retreats to Cathal and the others.

“Throw the body into the middle.” He whispers. 
“Wh...” Cathal starts.
“Do it!” Kullervo hisses.
Cathal nods.

Astaroth steps forward, hoists the broken body of Black Shet over his head and pumps his arms once.

THUNK

BOK-K-K.

Black Shet's body slams into the floor, which instantly parts, that is flops down and open, in two separate halves. Which - gravity takes charge - causes Black Shet to continue his descent.

THUNG

Clearly something below has impeded his progress.

Kullervo stares down, there's a huge cavern below, the thrash and swirl of water, a rocky ledge thirty feet below and to his left, the rush of the underground river some twenty feet below the ledge.

And between the river and the point at which Kullervo stands is a metal cage, dangling from a thick heavy-linked iron chain. Black Shets’ broken body splayed on the floor of the now swaying rusty metal cage.

The other Knights creep forward to admire the view.

The three guards within the chamber, and the sleeping form have not stirred in all of this time.

Kullervo nods at Cathal, eyes right to the guardian forms, his job not yet done- the young Rogue takes a circuitous route around to the far side of the chamber, beyond the yawning pit. Once again the others wait on- although manoeuvre themselves into more advantageous positions, ready weapons for the rush.

Kullervo squats in the shadows, tight to the wall, as far away as he can from the fall. He can see everything from here, the first guard- with its back to him, it's a dummy- not a man, an arming dummy dressed in armour, a glaive-like weapon leant against it.

He moves on, confirms the second, and the third are likewise dummies, all that's left is the sleeping form on the divan - and the crown and the small gold coffer, of course.

He approaches the divan, the figure stirs, he stops- it's no dummy, and yet, something is still not right, he approaches cautiously.

Cautiously.

Closer.

Silent as the grave.

Then looms up over the sleeping form, dagger downward pointing, in two hands, ready to strike down- the sleeping form reacts to his sudden shadow, lurches around- it's a young girl, tears and fear in her face- she's gagged and bound.

The dagger descends.

At lightning speed.

And is swiftly slotted into its leather scabbard, Kullervo fumbles for the girl’s ropes, her gag- all smiles and shushes, he's grinning, eyes glistening, whispering- again and again, like an echo- “sorry... sorry.”

She's soon free, and the other Knights over to her- she's called Glaffin, she's eleven and alone in this world. Kullervo clutches her to him, it comes easily to him- the human touch; the other Knights seem less adept, much less adept.

The gold this and that, the fancy crown et al- all of it is junk; the coffer also proves to be trapped- Kullervo however does his job and quickly and quietly disarms the trap- a poisoned dart set to fire out. Inside a pile of coin- gold, or at least tin coins painted gold- badly. There's nothing here of any worth- all of it junk, the whole thing an elaborate trap; the Court of the Beggar King is nothing more than a charade.

It seems the action lies below, for the Friday Knights it’s into the caves.

The Knights take a break, Cathal and Ignaran pick their moments to head over to Kullervo and shake him by the hand- “good work”, and, “well done- sorry about before”. It seems the young Rogue has found his feet and his place is secure in the Friday Knights.

Glaffin knows nothing, except that she's cold, lost and alone- Kullervo tells the others that he will take her back to the Inn. Cathal goes to protest but sees the young Rogue's eyes- the clue is in the word 'tells' in the previous sentence; Kullervo has made his decision- he heads off, leading Glaffin away, her hand firmly clasped in his.

“He's shaping up.” Cathal remarks with a smile when the young Rogue has departed.
The Knights rest, Cathal remains on-guard, cleaning his longsword; Astaroth slumps in a corner examining closely, silently counting, incorrectly, his fingers on his hands; Ignaran squats and eats jerky, trying  hard not to stare at the warrior of Kord.

“I said he's shaping up.” Cathal repeats, baiting a trap, or so it seems to Ignaran.
“Mmm.” He confirms, and doesn't look up.
“I had my doubts... but, he's really shaping up, see him with Black Shet- all action.”

In the corner Astaroth grins and nods.
Cathal grins back at the man-mountain and then turns again to Ignaran.

“I thought he was soft, I thought he didn't have it... But, Kord be praised- he made mush of that guy’s face.” Cathal pointedly stares at Ignaran.

“Did ya see that?” Cathal prods a little harder.
Ignaran meets Cathal's stare.

“Yes, I did.” He states, then adds, softly- “what happened with you in the storeroom, with the rats, you just seemed to freeze?” Ignaran smiles back.

Cathal flashes red, his hand tight on the grip of his sword.

It passes.

“Nothing.” The Warrior of Kord offers, bites on his beard, nods once at the Druid, smiles and turns away.

Thirty minutes later, eyes still glistening but full of smiles, Kullervo returns-  for the first time he feels he has made a difference, perhaps this adventuring lark is something more then death and gold, he feels... good, content, happy with his lot. 

“Where next?” he enquires, wreathed in smiles.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

The truncated version- and so I just don't have the time, sound familiar, so it's either abandon the game, or the write-up, or find another way of cataloguing the adventures of the Friday Knights that isn't so time consuming. I'm so far behind the action; the action I have described to date brings us in game terms to the end of the second actual session of play, it'll be the 35th session this Friday coming (21st August 09), and we play every week.

So here it is, the truncated versions of play, a narrative of sorts but much much simpler- to read and to write, sorry if it's not what you want but it's all I can manage.

Background to the Adventures of the Friday Knights.

My last game went and broke, player A no longer liked player B and the rest of us either picked sides or tried to wait it out- I'll not go into detail. Fed up I hunted high and low, and after weeks of frustration took the plunge and offered my services as a DM for an on-line game of 4th Edition, thanks to Maptools, ENWorld and Skype within ten days I was in business.

I sent out the campaign details, hand outs et al- cobbled together from the snippets about Fallcrest and the Nentir Vale in the 4e DMG. The first adventure was set to be set in the city itself, a reworking of Goodman Games Dungeon Crawl Classic #53 “Sellswords of Punjar”, Sellswords of Fallcrest if you like.

And so from the four corners of the globe they came, the players-

Cathal, Human Fighter; an abrasive, firm but fair, mercenary with a higher calling- a big fan of Kord, a local lad, a citizen of Fallcrest.  Cathal will later pick up the moniker “Sarge”, and it will fit him like a glove. Cathal is played by Simon. (Representing the UK)

Kullervo, Human Rogue; the quiet and uninitiated farmer's boy fleeing home, home being Phsant a small village just outside the Fallcrest city walls. Kullervo gets his nose into everything, often leaving the others to do the actual fighting and such. Kullervo is played by Rob. (Representing the US, but resident in Spain)

Ignaran, Human Druid; worldly wise- or at least he pretends to be, slightly aloof but with homicidal tendencies- kill them all, let Mother Nature sort them out, that kind of thing. The thinker in the party. Ignaran is played by Mike. (Representing, and resident, of the US)

And so our story, in note form, begins (again)...

But first, ahem, a note about 4th Edition; prior to this campaign I had played (DM'ed, I don't play, it's beneath me) 4e on I think six separate occasions, two of the six ended in TPKs. The first was in the Keep on the Shadowfell, one of the Kobold Ambushes, the one with the Kobold Wyrmpriest and the Dragonshields (and some minions I think), anyway... TPK. And this with a group of players who, they swore, had never TPK'ed ever... ever, honest, and had been playing D&D for, hang on I'm going to work it out- I need more fingers, 70 years in total, that's four players, the least experienced with eight years under his belt. Needless to say a few weeks later when I did it again, with the same players- different characters (obviously), in an RPGA scenario, CORE 1-2 The Radiant Vessel, the last encounter I believe- well, they weren't impressed. 

So if you think the start is a little cautious then in truth I was very wary. I soon realised my problem however with the two previous TPKs, I had the wrong players, then again how was I to know, I had yet to meet the valiant Friday Knights...


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 1- Sellswords of Fallcrest Part 1. To the Gate.

The characters find each other in an Inn, hey that sounds familiar- Cathal has heard that there's money to be made venturing into the lair of the Beggar King, indirectly the Beggar King is bound to have some money and the like hoarded away; more directly the local Thieves Guild- the Shadowmen, have set a 500gp bounty on the Beggar King's head. The Fighter wants some of that, all he needs is to find some unsuspecting... Ah, here we are.

Kullervo has just escaped his home, he's in search of adventure, and also starving, lost and alone in the big city- and he wants in.

Ignaran is in Fallcrest on business, he hates Fallcrest, and cities in general. However the business is important, Nimozaran the Septarch of Fallcrest (Chief High Honcho Mage) has a job for the Druid- there's a strange phenomenon he wants Ignaran to investigate, an odd black cloud sometimes seen surrounding a tower in the Dock Quarters. Ignaran can't say no to the Mage, all he needs then is to find some likely individuals to accompany him in his investigations, for protection, and to carry things, and the like.

It turns out that the tower cloaked in black haze is part of the Beggar King's domain- wouldn't you know it, the Friday Knights are gathered.

Much of the first session is spent in the Blue Moon Inn in Fallcrest, the Knights drink a little, laugh a lot and keep an ear out for rumours and gossip about the Beggar King, the tower etc. There's plenty of gossip flying around as it happens; talk of a turf war between the the Beggar's Guild and the Shadowmen, tales of the Beggar King's long lost treasure, even stories of black clouds descending from the aforementioned tower into the streets of Fallcrest to attack passers-by. Black clouds capable of stripping a man's flesh from his bones, supposedly.

The hunt is on. At midnight the Knights head out to Cutpurse Alley, the entrance to the Beggar King's domain, alas the way ahead is blocked - an ornate gate, which Kullervo attests is “trapped to 'igh 'eaven.” There's talk of abandoning the project, Ignaran however has other ideas and boosts Kullervo up onto a low roof, sometime later all of the Knights are pressed against the cold wet shingles, spying down on Cutpurse Alley. 

They get wet, very wet- the weather is atrocious.

The three head along the roofs, careful like, till they find a nice spot; ahead are lights, a low roof on the opposite side of the alley, a burning brazier, several guards, well hidden- at least from the front gate, now obvious. One of the guards is eating a pie, one stares at the moon and gibbers, the last squints into the dark.

A minute later Kullervo has one down, a beautiful flick of the wrist culminating in a dagger buried in the pie-eating guard's back- the guard falls, backwards, and lies still on the cobbled floor of the alley- deathly pale. The young Rogue has never killed or harmed anyone (much) in his life- he's a little terrified, well played that Player.

Cathal in the meantime goes all action hero, sprints down one slick roof, leaps to another, runs up and along and drops down on the moon-gazing guard, and stabs him through the heart- dead. Cathal takes death and destruction (of others) in his stride- doesn't bat an eyelid.

The squinting guard is three rooftops away by the time the above has played out, sword scattered and not looking back, or ever coming back- now officially unemployed.

Kullervo is briefly ill, just after looking at the mess he's made of the pie-eating guard on the cobbles below.





Strike one for Kullervo & Cathal, Ignaran grips onto the roof and curses the foul weather.

[DM Interlude Encounter #1 [300 XP = Level 1] 3x Human Sentries (Level 1 Skirmishers). Easy I know but before prior to this campaign I had played only six sessions of 4E via Maptools, two of which ended in TPKs- that's quite a strike rate. Conservative, and wanting the players to gain some early success I decided to give them a couple of encounters to get into the swing of things.]

So it comes as quite a shock when the formerly pie-eating guard peels himself off the deck and hares back down the alley and to a door, flings it open and dashes within, all the while screaming something along the lines of “intrewgers, intrewgers”, while wiping the remains of his scalding hot pie from his face.

The Knights do a double take, what next?

They don't have long to wait- Fernando Del Amitri is a fighter and a lover, a bounder and a cad, with an excellent pedigree and a great first line... 

“I am Fernando Del Amitri. I killed my father. Prepare to die.”

Cathal leaps down into the alley to prove his prowess, a test of arms, and steel, and grit, and other macho exhortations- he damn near breaks his legs and lands in a heap, prone before Fernando, who cuts him up a little, it seems he's not big on fair play.

However before Fernando can really get to work Kullervo flings another dagger, and connects again; a moment later Ignaran conjures and a Wolf appears at Fernando's side. The Wolf stares at the Swordsman, the Swordsman stares back- then the Wolf does its best to eat the swarthy swordsman. 

A little later, still struggling with Wolfie, Fernando finds respite- Cathal finally gets to his feet and slashes through his armour and deep into his chest with his longsword, Fernando dies, it seems Cathal doesn't mind a bit of dirty fighting either.





Fernado Del Amitri, his dad's dead, don't worry- he'll be seeing him soon.

[DM Interlude Encounter #2 [125 XP = Level 1] Human Tough (Level 2 Brute). The second easy encounter to allow me and the players to get our collective eye's in, as it were.]

The session ends as the Knights nose further into the alley, after robbing the fallen of course- nice work Kullervo. Only two combat encounters but two thirds of the session was given over to character creation, roleplay in the Inn, background detail et al.

Finally a note about XP, I do it differently, always have- name the edition, I do it differently. Players get XP for everything- good roleplaying, investigation, smart play, killing stuff, finding the things they are looking for, being amusing, or emotional, or emotive, or... everything. Obviously it takes more XP to get up levels, I'm not going to explain exactly how it works save to say it does- also I don't tell the players how many XP they need to get to the next level, I like to keep them in the dark a little. That said the players earned 844 XP this session, that's between the three of them- it's split equally.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 2- Sellswords of Fallcrest Part 2. The Mercenary Experience.

The Knights are-

Cathal, Human Fighter, devotee of Kord, Level 1.
Ignaran, Human Druid, the nature nutter, Level 1.
Kullervo, Human Rogue, ex-farm boy, Level 1.

The Knights settle themselves after the fracas, and then head along the alley into an enclosed courtyard, two and three story buildings on all sides- at least one of them with lights showing- there's someone at home in the Beggar King's domain, and something odd-looking on the far side of the courtyard.

Kullervo is about to go reconnaissance when there's much banging and crashing from back down the alley, the Knights ready themselves, a moment later striding into the courtyard comes a big, and I mean big, black guy- all muscles and greataxe. This is Astaroth, the fourth Friday Knight.

Astaroth, Human Fighter; a loveable lug, Astaroth is smitten with Lady Constance- who has disappeared. She's an older women and local landowner. He's heard rumours that Lady C. has been taken by the Beggar King's minions (not actually minions mind) and brought to his lair, he doesn't  know why, all he knows is that he's here to save her. Astaroth isn't big on “knowing”, he also doesn't hold with “book lurnin'”, he's played by Akshay. (Representing, and another resident of, the US)

[DM Interlude, all the PCs are humans- weird.]

A moment or two later, stories swapped, Astaroth is on board- the newest Friday Knight. 

The strange shaped object at the end of the courtyard turns out to be a crude depiction of some foul demon, actually not “some” foul demon, but specifically “a” foul demon... Lord- it's Orcus. Care and trepidation follows, at least for a moment, that is until Astaroth smashes the head off the statue, this will prove a signature move- for all Aksahy's characters. Kullervo relieves the decapitated demon head of its gemstone eyes- wondering why no-one has bothered to do this before.

Guess who just happens to be on-line and watching at this exact moment, that's right the big badass with the ram's head. The Knights make their first enemy, and it's a big one- aim high that's what the Knights say. If you're going to piss someone off, then go straight for the top, call Tiamat a ten-eyed loser, tell Demogorgon he needs a shave, or Jubilex that he's put on some weight and looks out of shape.

Job done, Demon Lord's statue smashed and desecrated the Knights head into the Bazaar of the Bizarre, a Beggar Shop, Cathal informs them- he knows a little about the area.

Into a cramped and foetid room, full of all manner of filth and semi-usable crud, the Knights advance- Astaroth finds a curtained alcove and pokes his head in, a hole in the floor of the chamber beyond, mud and excreta, he thinks he's found the middens.

Then it kicks off.

The ex-pie-wielding sentry is back and at Cathal in moments.  Behind a crude counter Arthuro the Fence, the shopkeeper, bobs up and flings his magical dagger which returns to his hand, while screaming for “TIMMY!”; and in the midden TIMMY! explodes from the mire. Timmy is an ancient and bedraggled Otyugh.

The fracas is short, Cathal stabs the ex-pie eating sentry in the gut, the sentry expires. Ignaran and Kullervo are at and on the counter, respectively, in seconds; and soon after Arthuro is injured and in retreat- into a small study area- screaming all the while “Irocar!”, oh what it is to have friends.

As for TIMMY!, Astaroth connects with the first critical of the game and, well... the Otyugh sinks back into the mire and flees, having been bloodied by the man-mountain in one furious swat.






Poor TIMMY!

[DM Interlude Encounter #3 [450 XP = Level 1] Human Sentry (Level 1 Skirmisher), Arthuro the Fence (Level 4 Skirmisher) & TIMMY! Old Otyugh (Level 4 Soldier). This time I thought, this time... I didn't think it for long, about ten seconds as I recall.]

However the Knights don't have time to catch their breath, behind the counter a crude set of stairs lead up into... a crude curtain prevents further revelations. Rushing down the stairs like a herd of elephants come two grizzly looking men wearing dogskins, as in family pet- dogs, not great slavering hounds. They are representatives of the Dog Brothers a wastrel gang that will do almost anything for coin.

Battle is joined, Cathal trips the first down the stair, or at least knocks him back into his brother, leaving the pair sprawled on the floor. He follows this up with a cleave that injures both brothers- leaving one bloodied and the other limping badly.

Meanwhile Arthuro pops up again and tries to make his presence felt, a short-lived enterprise, which ends badly for Arthuro as Ignaran conjures Wolfie, his faithful... well- what else, Wolf. Moments later Arthuro is screaming and writhing as Wolfie chomps down on the Fence's groin area. Arthuro surrenders, vociferously, and repeatedly.





Arthuro makes a run for it, maintaining his dodgy appearance throughout the manoeuvre.

The Dog Brother pair flee back up the stairs- Cathal and Astaroth in hot pursuit. Ignaran follows after as Kullervo ties up Arthuro, and does a little investigating on his own while the rest of the Knights are playing with their new-found friends..

Upstairs Cathal and the others spill into a crude bed chamber, all stinking bed rolls and bottles of rot gut, the Dog Brothers' kennel, a third Dog Brother is present, and something larger- Irocar, the Dog Brother War Captain- a grand title for a not-so-grand-scumbag. Irocar wears chain armour, grasps a wicked looking bastard sword in one hand and a heavy shield in the other. He also wears a dogskin cape- very fetching.

It kicks off.

Astaroth gets scratched and bumped a bit; Cathal takes a shellacking from Irocar, including a Brute Strike; one of the Dog Brothers is killed by a Lightning Fist, courtesy of Ignaran, the Druid is all smiles; and the remaining three, eventually, including a sobbing “I want my mum!” Irocar, are taken prisoner when they all, almost, run out of Hit Points. 





Cathal gets a little nearer to his god.

[DM Interlude Encounter #4 [475 XP = Level 1] 3x Dog Brothers (Level 1 Skirmisher) & Irocar, Human Fighter (Level 4 Soldier). At no point did this feel like a level 1 encounter, partially because there were only three players involved in the fracas, but largely to do with Irocar hitting Cathal with a Brute Strike in the opening rounds and reducing the player to below 10 hit points. The DM is sated.]

Meanwhile Kullervo has bullied Arthuro through to another small chamber, the Fence's bedroom, swiped all the coin he can find, including gold coins - I mean he's seen them before but he's never actually had a gold coin of his own.

Arthuro is meanwhile trying to manoeuvre Kullervo around, the bed in his chamber is trapped, alas the rogue has other ideas and spots a ledger and a secret panel in the room. The ledger has lots of coded entries in it, an account book of sorts. The secret panel has a beautiful, wondrous chest within. The chest, make that treasure cabinet, has seven locked drawers- each of which has a symbol chalked onto it. Kullervo sets to work and... Fails repeatedly on all manner of rolls- sure he's found traps, locks et al, but can he disarm them... not a chance.





Kullervo looks determined, Arthuro continues to look dodgy, the chest looks nice.

The rest of the Knights arrive, after kicking the Dog Brothers and Irocar, out into the street- although without their arms, armour, money and pride. They have also learnt that the Beggar King has need of mercenaries, like the Dog Brothers, it seems there's been a Beggar cull going on. Specifically they learn about Madame Zeb, a corpulent Tiefling Witch who lairs a little further in. She has eunuch guards wearing nought but their underpants- which is nice.

And so the chest won't open, or at least Kullervo can't open it. Well... Astaroth fixes that, and rolls the (his) second natural '20' of the session, the chest spills its contents, but that's not all- every trap on the chest goes off.

A poison needle shoots out and... [DM rolls... hmmm] strikes Arthuro in the forehead, the Fence wilts and staggers forward, just in time for...

A scything blade which... well, scythes. Cuts deep into... [DM rolls... hmmm] Arthuro's midriff, who staggers back and is grabbed by Cathal- who's obviously concerned for the Fence's welfare, and not really trying to get a meat-shield.

As finally a spear shoots out at great speed, thumps into... [DM rolls... sigh] Arthuro's chest and lifts him out of Cathal's grip and off his feet, and sends him crashing back into the far wall.

The rag doll Fence then flops forward onto the bed.

The bed, something about the bed, the DM remembers.

Arthuro is impaled as half-a-dozen sharpened wooden stakes rip through the thin mattress, and thereafter Arthuro.

Astaroth nods and leans on his axe, the rest of the Knights stand and stare.

The ledger and the chest, lots of good stuff, the Knights, or rather Ignaran, identifies a +1 Cloak of Resistance, a +1 Dagger, actually two +1 Dagger's- Arthuro won't be needing his any more, and a +1 Bastard Sword, the later courtesy of Irocar. Also a bunch of other stuff, including poisons and a little money. A good day's work already. Suitably re-equipped the Knights head up the stairs and further in.

From the Dog Brothers kennel up again into a loft, Irocar's personal quarters, and a dead end. That is until Kullervo spots the secret door, then the trap on it, and even better he disarms it- his first full house. 

On again- this time into a crude and relatively unused storeroom, not unused by the Rat Swarms however, who like to refer to the place as “home.”

The rats attack, it gets messy for a while but by hook or by crook the Knights see their way through, the remains of the rat swarms scurry off to fight another day.

[DM Interlude Encounter #5 [250 XP = Level 1] 2x Rat Swarm (Level 2 Skirmisher). Window dressing really, swarms on their own are annoying- I'll try not to do this again.]

The Knights soft pad, as best they can, through another equally crude bed chamber- this one much larger, fat greasy candles, or rather the stubs of them, burn here- there's no money to be found in the flop house.

Kullervo hears voices ahead and creeps forward to see; there's a flight of stairs heading down to a door, and an arch through which the rogue spies activity. He continues to spy for a while and then heads back to get the rest of the Knights up to speed, it seems they've located Madame Zeb and her eunuch bodyguards- two fat men dressed in their underpants.

Moments later the Knights charge into Madame Zeb's chamber, a blasted laboratory full of all manner of foul brews, taken unawares Zeb and her crew are swiftly cut down. One of the eunuch's actually cut open by Cathal, the other bloodied and in retreat. Madame Zeb also takes quite a beating- this after she ignites much of the chamber with her Flames of Phlegathos, which also singe Astaroth badly.





One dead, one dying & one desperate- Madame Zeb surrenders.

[DM Interlude Encounter #6 [375 XP = Level 1] 2x Human Eunuch (Level 1 Soldier) & Madame Zeb, Tiefling Warlock (Level 4 Artillery). The DM cackles a little as he takes a big chunk of hit points out of Astaroth.]

The run down lab is searched and then smashed up. Three healing vials are found and taken, Madame Zeb's armour turns out to be +1 Cloth, a scythe made from the fused bones of some kind of demon is also appropriated. The prize find however is a large, still warm, egg- Ignaran speculates as to the egg's contents, Astaroth solves the mystery by making an omelette, he confirms the contents to be egg. 

Madame Zeb is pressed for information- it seems the Throne Room of the Beggar King is but a little way off, through a courtyard and an aged warehouse. She's never been in the place but Madame Zeb believes it to be a dangerous. The Tiefling also warns the Knights that other mercenaries have been hired by the Beggar King, including a scoundrel who goes by the name of Black Shet, some sort of freelance assassin.

The Friday Knights make tea and eat sandwiches, the second session over, four combat encounters completed, lots of new information gained and a fair bit of good roleplay.

The players earned 2409 XP this session, that's between the four of them.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 3- Sellswords of Fallcrest Part 3 Look out below!

The Knights are-

Astaroth, Human Fighter, love-struck man-mountain, Level 1
Cathal, Human Fighter, devotee of Kord, Level 1.
Ignaran, Human Druid, the nature nutter, Level 1.
Kullervo, Human Rogue, ex-farm boy, Level 1.

Rested, the Knights leave Madame Zeb's laboratory, after freeing the Tiefling and her eunuch companion, out of a door and into a courtyard- a ramshackle affair. 

Ignaran can see the tower from here, the tower with the dark swathe of shadow surrounding its summit, even at night, in the rain, he can see it. Kullervo however spies something else, while the Knights traverse the courtyard the young rogue makes for the angle, where two walls meet, and climbs.

The remainder of the Knights back pedal, they were about to enter the dilapidated warehouse, just as Madame Zeb described; they instead stop to see what young Kullervo is up to.

Kullervo climbs to a window, he spies a furze of light within, the Beggar King's Throne Room. There's something darker pressed against the glass, blocking his vision, he realises he's trying to look down into the a chamber over the shoulder of someone, not something, pressed against the glass. No time to think Kullervo punches through the window, grabs the black clad figure, and yanks him out and onto the sloped roof on which he stands.

Black Shet's face registers many things - shock, horror, confusion, fear and finally pain; as he skitters backwards down the slate roof and then over the lip- he suffers no damage in the fall to his torso, or indeed limbs, as he lands head first in the courtyard.

At the same time the doors to the dilapidated warehouse are shoved open and a squad of miserable looking Beggars lurch out muttering foul invocations such as, “giz 10 pee”, and “spare sum change guv'nor.” Battle is joined.

Astaroth and Cathal mix it with the Beggars, Kullervo is down from the roof in a flash and all over Black Shet, while Ignaran is otherwise engaged. The shadowy mist that surrounds the far tower stretches out one dark tentacle down into the courtyard, the tentacle stretches so thin that it breaks- and a swarm of shadowy bats suddenly encompasses the combatants, it's every man for themselves, the bats are not bothered who they lunch on.

Ignaran fights desperately to keep the bats at bay.

The Beggars are no match for the warrior pair, it's a massacre, all eight of them are left dead. Black Shet is a whisker away from death when his screams for parley are finally heard, while the Shadow Bat Swarm is eventually sent packing- dispersed.





Aggressive begging scales new heights.

[DM Interlude Encounter #7 [573 XP = Level 2] 8x Beggar (Level 2 Minions); Shadow Bat Swarm (Level 3 Lurker) & Black Shet, Human Rogue (Level 4 Skirmisher). Save the bats the whole fight is over in seconds. Funny this 4e, the fights you think are going to be difficult often turn out not to be- sometimes terribly quickly.]

Black Shet is searched, slapped and subdued- the first of the mercenaries the Knights have captured so far that's reluctant to speak. Killing in cold blood is ruled out- the Friday Knights drag their prisoner with them as they head on, they also discover on Black Shet their third, yes count them, one, two, three... +1 Dagger. [DM Interlude- Harley Stroh, what were you thinking? Only kidding.] 

The Knights head through the dark and dingy warehouse and then up to another loft area, and from there, via an open window, into the Beggar King's Throne Room, still dragging Black Shet along.

The room is fairly opulent (that's not the right phrase- 'fairly opulent', that's like saying 'mostly perfect', gah!), there are three sentries over the far side of the chamber, although they are clearly low paid, and therefore low quality, none of them have stirred and the Knights are not famed for their stealth, save Kullervo.

Also on the far side of the chamber is a low divan, complete with recumbent figure swaddled in blankets, although this figure too seems to be unmoving.

Lastly on the far side of the Throne Room is a gold coffer, whoever heard of such a thing, a coffer... made of gold, atop the coffer is a crown- gem studded, more gold.

Twenty feet of thickly carpeted and cushioned floor lies between the Friday Knights and the Beggar King and his treasure, it all seems a little too easy.

Kullervo shoves Black Shet, now hands bound and mouth gagged, into the centre of the room- THUNK- the floor falls away, or else flops open- a trapdoor, another dull thunk is heard, then nothing.

Up top still nothing has stirred.

The Knights creep to the edge of the now open trapdoor, bellow is a huge cavern, looking down- twenty feet below is a metal cage, suspended from some great chain. One corner of the cage is swathed in a sticky red substance, and sprawled in the bottom of it is an unmoving Black Shet; either he's dead or he's up for an academy award. Thirty feet below the slightly swaying cage is an underground river which swells and foams.

A little while later the three guards turn out to be mannequins, and the figure on the divan turns out to be an eleven year old girl called Glaffin, who misses her mum. Kullervo does the decent thing and hot foots it from the Beggar King's lair, back into the streets of Fallcrest, and delivers the much relieved urchin into the arms of the authorities, and then hot foots it back again.

On his return Kullervo takes his time, checks everything, twice- and discovers all the treasure is junk. The crown's not gold, and the gems in it are paste; the chest is painted and trapped, and locked- and when he finally gets it open there are only fake gold coins inside. 

It seems the Beggar King possesses  a fine sense of humour, it seems the Friday Knights must press on to discover who will have the last laugh.

Ropes are lashed to the cage from the beams in the room above, Kullervo fixes it all up, it's a lot easier than barn building, roping horses etc. 

The Knights, safely and securely, shimmy on down and into the cage, Kullervo having previously divined that the cage is part of the trap previously triggered by Black Shet. Victim or victims fall into cage, cage door slams shut and the whole mechanism descends, somehow, down to a beach he can see a good way to the north. Obviously everything is disarmed, all they need to do is play their part and see what happens.

As quiet as they can the Knights get settled, the cage clangs, although not shut, and moments later lurches forwards, it descends like some great cable car.





Land ho!

En route the Friday Knights spot a number of sights, they pass over a set of crude pens on the beach, within which are a handful of desperate looking individuals including, Astaroth spots, Lady Constance. Cathal clamps his hand over the big lugs mouth to prevent him from vocalising his feelings.

Then voices, the Knights sight their next opponents, atop a low plateau, above the beach, a flurry of activity- a great capstan around which the chain coils- powered by some massive brute, and the welcoming committee- three large well-armed, heavily armoured Hobgoblins.

The cage grounds, the Hobgoblins approach and lightning fast the Knights are in position- Astaroth is the leg up man, he flings first Kullervo, then Cathal, and then Ignaran up and out of the cage, which takes the assembled Hobgoblins by surprise.

One of the monstrous humanoids breaks ranks and frees the great brute responsible for winding in 
the chain, a Great Ape, which soon lopes over to join the fun.

The ape however is the first to fall, Astaroth launches himself out of the cage and into the creature's path, it goes very badly for the oversized monkey soon after. Two of the Hobgoblins are bloodied and broken, they surrender, the third also bloodied heads for the exit at speed, he doesn't get far. Wolfie and a thrown dagger severely impede his progress, he's killed.





Astaroth and Cathal go bananas.

[DM Interlude Encounter #8 [450 XP = Level 1] 3x Hobgoblin Slaver (Level 1 Skirmisher) &  Great Ape (Level 3 Brute)]

The Hobgoblins are tied up and questioned, then dragged down to the holding pens on the shoreline and incarcerated- it seems Slavers are the new black. The Knights learn that the Beggar King has not been seen for a little while, meanwhile a group of slavers has been operating out of his underground lair. 

The slavers, it seems, are present in great numbers, Goblins and Hobgoblins from a tribe calling themselves the Bloodreavers; lead by a pair of Mages, an Eladrin and a Human, with a pair of Gnolls that serve as bodyguards to one of the Mages- Blackfang Gnolls apparently. A Dragonborn  mercenary who directs the slavers' attacks and the lair's defences, is also present. And maybe one other- the panicked Hobgoblins are not sure, a dark and shadowy figure; still there's plenty to be going on with.

In the meantime the captured citizens of Fallcrest are set free, including Lady Constance, although also present are a couple of Beggars who were discovered drunk on watch, a dwarf tinker, an old human sage and Lady Constance's two ladies-in-waiting, who giggle and guffaw at the size of Cathal's moustache.

Kissing and smooching follows, terms of endearment disguised as naked lust, Astaroth and Lady Constance are prevented from consummating their relationship by Cathal, he can do stern. Eventually the rescued slaves are packed back in the cage, with Cathal, and then are winched back under the Throne Room, there they safely ascend, or are lifted up- to freedom, promises of rewards- monetary and physical are made, the gaggle depart.

Back to the serious business, the Knights head off again, through a low cavern and up some stairs, the stone passage curves around to head south, more stairs ahead to a pair of double doors, on the right hand wall a seemingly once sealed passage has been broken open- Kullervo gets to work.

First the once sealed passage, investigation suggests that there was at one time a clay seal on the wall here, to keep people out, of course. Kullervo heads in and up a short flight of stairs to a small chamber which looks like some sort of ancient chapel, the room is lit by candles on the floor, in the centre of the room is the dessicated corpse of a robed human, over the far side there's something on one of the walls. The room is smoky, no hazy, no smoky, no- whatever. Kullervo has a good look around and then shuffles in a little and grabs the corpse by its legs and drags it out, back down the stairs and to the waiting Friday Knights it's a dead end, he reports.

The corpse is that of a Human Mage, or so the Knights think, after all it wears a pointy hat and no one else would bother to advertise the fact they're a seven stone weakling.  Also it has a rotten backpack which contains a Ritual Book, Ignaran grins and takes it.

The dead wizard is also wearing a pair of silver etched bracers, far too large for his delicate skeletal arms, Kullervo puts them away for safe keeping, then heads to the stairs and the door ahead, spotting on the way the jutting spikes of a portcullis above- clearly a trap.

That's when it happens.  The doors ahead are flung open, the portcullis drops, and is set to cut Kullervo off from his companions; in the chamber ahead, illuminated by small fires, are a gang of six Goblin Archers and four Hobgoblin Slavers- the Bloodreavers, in their midst a Dragonborn Warlord swirling a greatsword above his head.

And here the third session draws to a close, only two combat encounters, we play approx. five hour sessions, but there's bags of chatter and roleplay, and some great investigation. It has to be said that maptools and Skype sometimes make it a little difficult at times, lots of “what did you say?” followed by dead air, but we're getting there.

The players amass 3360 XP this session between them, which is still not enough to advance any of them a level, I'm a cruel, cruel DM.

And there, in three posts, I've caught up with myself, sorry folks but this new format is the future for me...


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## Mircoles

The new format's no problem to me, still fun to read.


----------



## Richard Rawen

Goonalan said:


> This one's for Half-Orc Half-Biscuit, and Richard Rawen, wherever you may be, thanks as always for reading.



Oh! heh, um, sorry, busy reading 
So, still back on p. 1, but loving it so far, great action and fun reactions.
Just wondering, are Otyugh's a favored critter in your campaigns? 
Back to reading, and thanks, after all without your hard work I'd have to ... well, work!


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## Richard Rawen

Well, all caught up, I guess I can appreciate where you're coming from with the lengthy posts... though they are quite good reads.

The light version is still a fun read, looking forward to more!


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## Goonalan

Richard Rawen said:


> Oh! heh, um, sorry, busy reading
> So, still back on p. 1, but loving it so far, great action and fun reactions.
> Just wondering, are Otyugh's a favored critter in your campaigns?
> Back to reading, and thanks, after all without your hard work I'd have to ... well, work!






Richard Rawen said:


> Well, all caught up, I guess I can appreciate where you're coming from with the lengthy posts... though they are quite good reads.
> 
> The light version is still a fun read, looking forward to more!




Work is just getting too much, the longer I manage to stay in my job the more I seem to be reponsible for, and then there's all the teaching I do on top. Tasks that used to account for approx. 50% of my working day and/or week, like co-ordinating my own course (I'm a lecturer), are now something I have two or three hours to achieve the same aims per week.

Although another pay rise is in sight, and backdated till Jan, when I took on yet more work... Burning the candle at both ends and somewhere in the middle too.

Otyugh, yes, oh yes... what's not to love, misunderstood tentacled monstrosities that bathe in dirt and excrement. I briefly toyed with the idea of having the one from the Goodman Gang adventures (I can't remember his name) return as a Bard, a kind of one man band busking abberation (are they aberrations?), that'd turn heads. If I ever play D&D again, and not DM, then I'm insisting on playing an Otyugh Avenger, or Barbarian, or Rogue or... anything, as long as its an Otyugh.

There'd be Otyugh plush available if I had my way, Lovecraft had it right- 'you can never have enough tentacles', I think he said that...

The other thing with my present 4e game is it seems to be moving so fast, particularly in comparison with my 3e campaigns, and that's not really the level advancement- we're 35 sessions in, each approx. 4 hours (actually 4 hours minimum) and one of the characters has just hit level 8, and he's only missed one session- approx. 140 hours of play. 

So I get round to asking the players what happened in a fight in session 3, I can't remember, and neither can they- I have notes but they're far from comprehensive. 

Then there's the fact that some players leave, and others join- obviously I'll not say who or how- to be revealed. However I will say that I have two Serbian players at the moment, and they keep asking me when I'm going to get a move on with the write ups and reach Session x when they arrived; which at the rate I'm going will be sometime in 2011. 

I dislike the fact I've had to drop the output, and lose the previous narrative style, it's just that there's absolutely no chance of me ever getting anywhere close to catching up. And therefore every chance I'll lose my way completely.

Since the change I've written up ten sessions in the new format, from a DM perspective they're great- I can use them to flick back through (I print them out and use them as a log book), very handy- I don't lose track in game so often, gives me new ideas for recurring villains or new plot twists etc.

Also I'm a maptools only DM now, and building the maps takes quite a while, I can generally map, populate and macro one encounter in about 40 minutes- I'm a bit of a stickler, the maps have to look right etc.

It all adds up, sorry about the lengthy explanation, it's as much for me as it is for you- as I say I'm not that happy with the change, however I can feel the merit.

What do you think to the pictures?

I like the fact that I take the time to name all the enemies on the screen, giving them individual names, not Orc #1 etc. tends to make it easier when it comes to divining their personalities in game, and there's still plenty of roleplaying going on.

Waffled on too long, another post on Saturday, trying for one every Saturday from hereon in.

Cheers Paul


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 4- Sellswords of Fallcrest Part 4 Shadow Born.

The Knights are-

Astaroth, Human Fighter, love-struck man-mountain, Level 1
Cathal, Human Fighter, devotee of Kord, Level 1.
Ignaran, Human Druid, the nature nutter, Level 1.
Kullervo, Human Rogue, ex-farm boy, Level 1.

Astaroth rushes forward, just as the portcullis slams down, the man-mountain grabs it and... bloody hell, lifts in straight back up into the ceiling. CLUNK, it locks back into place- that's his third natural 20 in this scenario, damn on-line dice rollers.

Kullervo is saved from a lonely death, the Knights go mental and rush in where fools (quite rightly) fear to tread.

The six Goblin archers try to shuffle back but are battered, and scattered- they fall like flies, the Hobgoblin Slavers however are made of sterner stuff, but Wolfie and Ignaran are in the mix. Cathal and Astaroth meanwhile are chopping through anything that gets close to them, the pair are soon at Orliss the Goat, nice moniker, the Dragonborn Warlord, leader of the Slavers defences. 

The Goat brays and hollers, breaths a swathe of fire, scorching all before him, including one of the Hobgoblin Slavers and then attacks.





All for one, and lots for all- there's plenty to go around.

In short order the Goblins are no more, Gorliss only stays upright by using his Inspiring Word every chance he gets, but it's just not enough, and soon enough he's a bloody pulp. Cathal is so disgusted with him he doesn't allow the Dragonborn to surrender. 

There are only two survivors, a pair of Hobgoblin Slavers who are off and running- and with the Knights in hot pursuit.

No time for a short rest- gulp.

Across a rickety wooden platform the Knights head out of the chamber. Below the platform another beach, a skiff moored there, oh and look, a pair of Gnolls loading chests into the beached boat, with two robed figures directing operations and on the other side of the wooden platform a shadowy figure - a drow- Cathal is suddenly wreathed in inky blackness.

It goes wrong very quickly- two separate encounters become one, it's beautiful when that happens n'est-ce pas?





Excreta, with impetus, meets fan.

Already injured, the Knights give ground quickly, which is fortunate as one of the Gnolls, Wrix, smashes the struts holding up the wooden platform. The whole structure crashes down.

Which leaves Kullervo dangling briefly, clutching onto and scrabbling at the cavern's rocky wall, he makes his mind up and goes for a controlled descent, dives into the shallows below, surfaces with only minor cuts and bruises. 

Astaroth is more direct; he launches himself down and at the nearest Gnoll, Reiko, uses him to cushion his fall. Cathal, with a grimace - remembering his last rapid descent in Cutpurse Alley - follows after.

Ignaran points and gestures and Drazen, the Drow Rogue, is engulfed in Blinding Bats. Unsighted the Dark Elf battles furiously to stay on the ledge.

Then something odd happens, the Human Mage scuttles out of the beached boat and fires a Chill Strike into Vermouth, the Eladrin Mage, and chief Slaver, leaving the Eladrin hurt and dazed, and that about turns it. Vermouth fires off Force spells, and Fey Steps when it looks really bad, back into the boat but...

The fight rumbles on a while, Drazen the Drow finally succumbs to the Blinding Bats and Kullervo's magical dagger and plunges into the water- he doesn't surface. The Gnolls are also quick to fall, although Astaroth and Cathal have a patchwork of bruises to show for the encounter, and broken ribs in the man-mountain's case. 

Vermouth attempts to flee in the boat, he doesn't get far, the Knights concentrate their fire on the fleeing Slaver Chief. 

Which just leaves one Mage standing- Aeolace, who introduces himself, drops to his knees and begs for clemency, he was lead astray, a misspent youth- it's easily done apparently.

[DM Interlude Encounter #9 [1250 XP = Level 6 (now with 5 PCs)] 6 Goblin Archers (Level 1 Minions); 4x Hobgoblin Slavers (Level 1 Skirmisher); Gorliss the Goat, Dragonborn Warlord (Level 3 Soldier), and then- 2x Gnoll Overseers (Level 2 Brute); Drazen, Drow Rogue (Level 3 Lurker) & Vermouth, Eladrin Mage (Level 3 Controller (Leader)). This one was a mess, and took ages, prior to play I couldn't see a way to separate the two encounters, and with the fifth player arriving, and set to switch sides and get the drop on the bad guys, I just thought why not.]

There follows an extended discussion regarding the suitability of a traitor, Aeolace, for membership of the rather exclusive, and all-conquering, Friday Knights, which slowly mutates into an extended rest. 

This after Kullervo is sent back up the rocky slope and a little ahead, down the passage on the far side of the now ruined wooden platform, just to make sure there's no-one else about. The Rogue spots some odd things, more later, and discovers a solid looking iron door which is hot to the touch. He decides that discretion is the better part of valour, particularly as his resources are low, he's out of Healing Surges and already injured, oh and on his own. He returns and signals all clear.

Aeolace, Human Wizard, is the fifth member of the Knights, a little bit impetuous, a resident of Fallcrest down on his luck, running with street gangs.  One thing lead to another and the next thing he knows he's trafficking human slaves for a bunch of crooks in the Beggar King's lair, try not to judge, we've all been there. He wants out, and then the Friday Knights come along. Aeolace is played by Paul.

[DM Interlude- Nine combat encounters, approximately ten hours of play before the need for a rest, with level 1 characters, that seems to work.]

Kullervo gets to work on the chests. Clearly the Slavers were packing their things and fleeing, things were getting too hot to handle - the Knights want to know more- Aeolace fills in the gaps, see below. 

Kullervo, the young Rogue, finds all of the traps on the chests, eventually, and gets the treasure- semi-precious stones, copper and silver coins, 15 silver trade bars- marked with stamps to show they are Duergar in origin- odd; and a do-it-yourself assassin/thief kit- with poison, blow gun, silk rope, masterwork tools and more- marked as being the property of Vadicion Cainnae, whoever he or she may be.

[DM Interlude, Vadicion Cainnae is a “Slayer”, notice the quotation marks-, the “Slayers” mean business- this may be a plot point. As to the Duergar that's Foreshadowing, as are the Bloodreavers- more of this much later.]

Aeolace, as stated above, supplies a few more details. The Slavers have been at work down here for a month or more, at first in conjunction with the Beggars, but latterly, after the Beggars took a severe beating courtesy of the Shadowmen (Fallcrest's premier Thieves Guild), with help from the Bloodreavers- the Goblins and Hobgoblins who come from... Aeolace shrugs, he has no idea. 

The Beggar King himself is ahead somewhere, and changed, from a capering paranoid homicidal maniac to a... Aeolace shrugs again, he's not sure, but he's changed, and hasn't been seen for a while. 

The slaves are transported through the sewers to... Aeolace has no idea, again.

The Friday Knights are somewhat reassured, clearly Aeolace is a low-level miscreant, not management, perhaps he's telling the truth, perhaps he was lead astray, they're certain however that he deserves a second chance. Cathal barks at the Wizard a while, ostensibly making this very point- a second chance to make something of his life, to follow the path of righteousness and... He goes on, and at length gets his point across.

Rested up the Knights improvise their way up off the beach and head on down the cavern passage, Kullervo points out the things he found earlier in his scouting foray. The passage ends in a chamber with a huge statue of a Giant Rat, the stone rodent has a scattering of coin at its feet. Aeolace remarks that he was told by Vermouth, the Eladrin Mage, that this is some kind of terrible trap, and he was not to take the coin, the Knights see the sense in this and move on to the metal door.





Anyone got any cheese?

The door is not just warm, it's hot- burning; alas there's nowhere else to go, Astaroth kicks it in, and reveals a sight straight from hell.

The floor of the chamber ahead is littered with bones, a wave of heat blasts out, the bones are smouldering- licked by spectral flames, in the midst of the mess is the Beggar King, a once bloated corpulent individual his skin now  hangs in folds, like a fleshy robe. 

The Beggar King is screaming and thrashing all the while- he doesn't look at all well. 

Cathal takes the plunge and charges in, he needs the Beggar King's head as proof of his demise in order to collect his reward, bursting from the floor come five skeletons, each swathed in flame; the smouldering floor is however safe to stand on.

The rest of Friday Knights launch themselves into the fray, the Skeletons fling Flaming Orbs, or else claw at the Knights with their burning talons. The Beggar King however has much more in his arsenal- Shadow Bolts and Bursts deliver Necrotic damage, Flame Gouts burn, and all the while the capering madman screams and struggles with some unseen foe, and yet he still retains control over the Cinder Skeletons, he even possesses the power to teleport the burning undead about the chamber.

The fight is protracted and furious, all of the Knights are singed, scared and necrotised in the end. The final blow, the killing blow, comes when Cathal decapitates the Beggar King, and in doing so births something ripped straight from the Shadowfell.

Darkness encompasses the room, all light is lost to the black, the flames go out, a bloated bolus of shadow rises up the throat of the tower- and to the roof, the light slowly returns. 





At last, a hot meal.

[DM Interlude Encounter #10 [1025 XP = Level 5] 5x Cinder Skeletons (Level 2 Artillery) & The Beggar King (Level 5 Elite Controller (Leader))].

[DM Interlude- Cathal, Kullervo and Ignaran are an extended rest away from being 2nd Level.]

Cathal looks at Astaroth, Astaroth looks at Kullervo, Kullervo looks at Ignaran, Ignaran looks at Aeolace, Aeolace looks at the stairs leading up to the roof- and gulps.

The Knights catch their breath and then take the stairs three at a time, Cathal, holy warrior of Kord leading the way, singing, “onward Kordian soldiers, marching as to war, with the sword of Koooord, slaying all before.” Alas Cathal couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

The Knights burst onto the roof of the tower, a buckled and broken edifice, riddled with great rents- and come face-to-face with a Shadow Dragon, clearly an immature member of the species, but still...

The Dragon flaps its newly formed wings, hovers a moment and then lurches forward- the finale unfolds.

All, save Aeolace, are caught in the Dragon's Breath Weapon, and then the DM rolls- and misses all four of them, later, much later, when the session has ended and the players are tucked up in bed, this power will recharge, fingers-crossed, because it didn't for the rest of the damn fight.

Thus the Dragon's glory is short lived, at one point it tries to escape but alas some slender sliver of shadow still connects it to the slumped dead body of the Beggar King far below.





Shadow boxing.

Tail Slaps and Bites do bits of damage, at one point Astaroth is forced to retreat but only for a moment, his Healing Surge kicks in and he's back at the beast- a war of attrition, and yet it's soon over for the Shadow Dragon, which however has one last trick to pull. 

The final blow, a blast of energy, a Magic Missile from Aeolace, and the Dragon swells for a second and then bursts- waves of numbing coldness and the deathly certainty of the grave wash over the Friday Knights, who although battered, bruised and weakened still manage to stand to salute the Shadow Dragon's demise and the first glorious rays of the new day sun.

[DM Interlude Encounter #11 [750 XP = Level 3] The Shadow Dragon (Level 3 Solo Lurker)].

The Beggar King is dead. 

The Shadow Dragon is dead. 

The Slavers are dead. 

The Prisoners have been freed. 

The Friday Knights are victorious  

And yet...

With that the fourth session draws to a close, the Knights managed to clock up a further 4388 XP this session, with only three Combat Encounters, however all of them were corkers, and so... good night for, and from, the Friday Knights.

[DM Interlude- Astaroth is up to level 2.]


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 5- Fallcrest's Crest Falls.

A little while later, fully rested, the Knights return to the Blue Moon Inn, they have rooms there now, nice rooms at that, they also have lots of shiny new toys. Cathal has been about his dark business, the Beggar King's head has netted 500gp - this courtesy of a gimp-like “information broker and go-between” called The Goose- the Shadowmen, it seems, are very happy with the outcome.

The terrible shadows that haunted the Beggar King's tower are gone, there's simply no sign of them, it's as if they never existed.  Nimozaran is of course delighted, he expresses his delight by allowing Ignaran and Aeolace access to many of his Rituals, he also rewards the Druid with a +1 Staff for his efforts.

The Red Wizards, Fallcrest's premier enchanters and magic item creators, have been busy - using their arcane knowledge to break down the magic items discovered, or transfer their enchantments onto weapons better suited to the Friday Knights arsenal.

Astaroth is in love, scratch that in lust, his busty benefactor, the Lady Constance, and her Ladies-in-Waiting are staying in the City, an extended break away from their country pile. Astaroth totters around the city on weak legs, his step cushioned by the six inches of air between his feet and the cobbled streets, toting a smile that a chisel could not remove.

And yet, even though they're the talk of the town, or at least  in the small circles they inhabit, there's an itch that remains unscratched, and questions that need answers. 

Such as-

Where did a chest of 15 silver trade bars, with Duergar manufactured stamps, come from - none of the merchants in the city will touch the stuff, it remains unsold, such is the potential threat attached to such items.

Where did the Shadow Dragon come from, well inside the Beggar King of course, but why? 

Who are the Bloodreavers and what are they doing in the city of Fallcrest, snap for the Blackfang Gnolls- Wrix and Reiko the Gnoll Overseer's, ditto for Slavers?

The authorities have been informed and have got involved, the now empty Beggar King's lair has been investigated, and soon after sealed, with the surface buildings being either demolished, or else put to better use. The authorities, or rather the Friday Knights liaison, Sgt. Murgeddin, a bluff Dwarf, alas have no answers.

The mystery, or at least the shadow of the mystery, remains.

Still the Knights are finding friends, there are queues around the block to hear their stories, and so one fine night a few of the Knights find themselves, once again, in the bar of the Blue Moon Inn; the fine night comes to an abrupt end when the Inn is attacked.

But that's not the bigger picture, the City of Fallcrest is attacked.

[DM Interlude, session 5 took place just before Christmas 2008, alas there were only three players available, thus we had to improvise a little, although we knew this was going to happen- holidays and life get in the way, therefore alternative characters were macroed up ready for play with maptools. To my further consternation the maps I made for Maptools for this session were consumed in a computer related mishap which wiped several hard drives- foolishly I didn't put copies on my external hard drive, in short- no pictures for two sessions.]

The Friday Knights for tonight's session are-

Aeolace, Eladrin Wizard Level 1– the traitor turned good guy.
Antaurea, Eladrin Ranger Level 1- bow for hire (see below).
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 2- instrument of Kord (and destruction).
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 1- arcane enquirer (see below).

[DM Interlude- Aeolace has changed to an Eladrin Mage- Paul has had a re-think.]

Which is far too many Eladrin for me, popping in and out of existence with their Fey Steps, it's not natural.

And so, and suddenly, one side of the Inn collapses burying a number of patrons under broken rubble, dead or dying- worse the Inn is on fire.

The front door is smashed open and a group of surly looking Goblins and Hobgoblins spill into the bar- several of the Goblins are toting improvised fire bombs, it gets a little hot under the collar for the good citizens therein.

Leaping into the fray are the Knights present- Cathal and Aeolace, happily two other wannabe heroes join in the fun, they are-

Antaurea, Eladrin Ranger, a wastrel, by high Eladrin standards, content to offer his services to anyone with coin- a guide to the wild lands that yet manages to spend much of his time in solitary contemplation, just him and his bottle. Antaurea is played by Mike.

Immeral, Eladrin Artificer, an unworldly tinkerer in the arcane, more used to spending time at his workbench than involving himself in combat situations. And yet when the Inn is invaded and Immeral's peace is disturbed, he stands up to be counted. 

[DM Interlude, Mike is unhappy with Ignaran for some reason, the Druid was created using Expeditious Retreats Advanced Player's Guide, the Wizards of the Coast Druid Character Class has yet to be released. Therefore Mike has decided to try a different character.- Antaurea]

And so to the action.

The Hobgoblins, all ten of them, prove no more than a distraction, they make their mark on the non-adventuring population of the Inn and the City at large, but are no match for for the Friday Knights, or their neophyte friends. The Hobgoblin grunts are cut down in a trice, Aeolace even adds a Scorching Burst to the mix, taking out four in one go. What the hell, he figures, the bar's on fire anyway.

The Goblins prove to be made of only slightly sterner stuff, the pair of Molotov cocktail throwing idiots are taken down- one killed, one, Angry Willy- by name, knocked unconscious by a forward thinking Cathal- he wants to know what's going on here.

It soon becomes obvious that the Goblinoids are Bloodreavers, that name keeps popping up.  They have the same markings on their armour, weaponry and skin as those fought previously in the Beggar King's lair.

The attack is easily repulsed, however the screams from outside the Inn alert the Knights to new danger.

[DM Interlude Encounter #12 [630 XP = Level 3] 10x Hobgoblin Grunts (Level 3 Minions) & 2x Goblin Blackblades (Level 2 Skirmishers). A jolly little fracas especially when the fire gets a hold of the Inn.]

The Knights spill out onto the street; houses and businesses burn, people run screaming and parked about ten yards away is a Fire Engine, think about the words, a cart pulled by a huge brute of an Ogre that stops every now and then to throw barrels of already burning pitch into populated buildings- like now. 

The Knights watch as another flaming missile sails over their heads and smashes into the slates of the Inn, and explodes showering its fiery contents onto the roof, and down to where the Knights are standing.

Accompanying the Fire Engine are a small group of Hobgoblin Archers, balanced in the back of the wagon, along with further pitch barrels.  They take pot shots at the screaming inhabitants of the city as they attempt to flee to safety. 

“This must end!” Cathal declares, and right on time Aeolace ends it, scooting forward a fraction and then dropping a Flaming Sphere directly beneath the wagon- it gets hot very quickly for the inhabitants of said cart - they take to sniffing the air, the burning smell seems to be coming from somewhere very close to them.

BOOM!

Splinters of wood and a slivers of Hobgoblins take momentarily to the air, spread out rapidly, and then rearrange themselves like some vast unfathomable jigsaw in a three hundred yard radius.

Standing very alone, very burnt, and very deafened is “Big Lesley”, the Ogre Savage who repeatedly thumps the side of his head, hoping to make the the buzzing stop. The other Knights take a moment to stare slack-jawed at Aeolace, whose grin matches Astaroth's, and then make mincemeat of all that's left of the Ogre.

[DM Interlude Encounter #13 [800 XP = Level 5] 3x Hobgoblin Archers (Level 3 Artillery) & Big Lesley, Ogre Savage (Level 8 Brute). Wow! I mean. Wow! A natural '20' was involved but the damage rolls were just... Wow!]

As an encore the Knights rush back into the bar, set about saving people or else bark furiously and organise bucket chains, a difficult Skill Challenge follows; of course the Knights prevail and the fires in the Inn are doused, the citizens saved. 

And yet still their work is not done.  The Knights head back out onto the streets of Fallcrest, guards are running hither and thither, more buildings need to be extinguished, the Knights help out some more, however the Bloodreavers are gone. Sgt. Murgeddin, when they bump into him later, tells the rest of the story.

The Bloodreavers it seems moved into the southern section of the city, which is mostly in ruins, not repaired after the Bloody Hand's assault nearly a century ago. There they hid until some signal- many buildings have been burnt, although few have sustained any serious damage- it seems the attack was a diversionary tactic. A good number of Fallcrest's citizens cannot be accounted for, eye witnesses report snatch squads grabbing people off the streets- the Bloodreavers delivered destruction, but came for slaves.

Which leaves the Knights in the frame, they've fought the Bloodreavers before.  Murgeddin wants them to meet with a man called Eoffram Troyas, a Fallcrest Council Member, he has a proposition for the Knights.

However before the meeting can be arranged something else comes up- fame. Already gaining a name for themselves in the City, Aeolace is about his business one fine-ish morning when he spots a member of the Fallcrest youth wearing a very thin sleeveless cloth shirt with a crude depiction of him on the front, it bears the legend “Firestarter- Twisted Firestarter.” It seems two stalls on the Fallcrest Central Market are selling them. 

En route to investigate the matter he spies other variants of the shirts, bearing other legends, such as- “Aeolace says- play with Matches, or else!”; “Burn Bloodreaver Burn, It's an Ogre Inferno!”; and “Look out! It's Aeolace's Fiery Balls.”

The market does indeed have stalls selling the aforementioned items of apparel, furthermore said items are selling like, forgive me, hot-cakes.  There are not however two stalls selling them- there are three, and by the time Aeolace is lead away by the Fallcrest Constabulary, there are five. Public appearances, particularly heated exchanges it seems, are good for business.

Cries of “drop da bomb Aeolace”, ring out as the confused Wizard scuttles back to the Inn.

The other Friday Knights react to Aeolace's new found fame with a mixture of jealousy, amusement and a desire to cash in on it fast.

Aeolace has learnt something however, the producer of the shirts is known to all and sundry as... The Goose. 

Back in the Blue Moon the Goose is located, and repeated attempts are made to show him the error of his ways. Alas the Goose fails to see what he has done wrong, and interprets these forlorn attempts as a device to increase Aeolace's share of the profits.

After a protracted meeting involving all of the Knights available it's settled.  Aeolace's image rights are valued at 15% of the nett profits, further lines and other merchandising and concessions are  subject to trials, cost efficiency reports, and product testing. Sometime in the future there will be meetings about further meetings. For now, Aeolace sulks back to his room 100gp richer and now complete with a manager, he's also signed up for some Marketing style Public Appearances.

A little while later the Knights get to sit down with Eoffram Troyas, and are given Angry Willy, the captured Goblin Fire-Bomber, to play with.

A Skill Challenge ensues, Cathal's opening statement “this is going to hurt me more than it is you”, proves to be an outright lie- Willy, at the end of the session, is so pliable he confesses to be being each and every one of the Dark Gods in disguise. 

The Friday Knights however garner a few snippets of information; the Bloodreavers are a gang of sorts, a conglomeration of disaffected individuals from numerous tribes, rallying to the banner of a great Goblin Chieftain called Sinruth, tall and muscular, able to cut a man clean in two, such is his strength. 

Furthermore, the Bloodreavers are working out of a place near Winterhaven, a small fortified town to the north, up the King's Road.

Lastly the Bloodreavers are slavers, although Angry Willy is sketchy on the details, he's a fairly new recruit, the attack on Fallcrest his first and last foray.

Thus armed and informed the Knights sit down with Eoffram, although the meeting gets crowded a little later as other authority figures arrive to tell what little they know of the tale.

Eoffram tells a story about an ancient artefact called the Rod of Ruin kept safe and closely guarded in a secret temple dedicated to Bahamut.  That is until just recently, when the temple priests and guards were slaughtered to a man, turned into the walking dead, and the Rod taken- the name Kalarel was overheard by the lone survivor of the ordeal, although who Kalarel is...

Eoffram wants the Knights to do their damnedest to rescue the innocent citizens of Fallcrest swept up in this bloody tide, to return them safely to their homes, their loved-ones and their lives.

With that in mind Eoffram would like to pay the Knights to travel to Winterhaven and discover exactly what's going on, get the Rod and rescue the captives, and return to Fallcrest.  The money is very good- the Knights agree, nods and smiles all round.

It's at this point that Marla, High Priest of the Church of Pelor barges into the meeting chamber and tells a tale about reports of Death Cultists in Winterhaven. She demands that something be done, even though the reports are old, Eoffram is forced to offer additional rewards for the defeat of said cult, or any cult involved in these activities.

Prices are agreed, everyone is happy, that is until Nimozaran turns up- mutters something about a friend of his called Douven Staul, an eminent archaeologist who travelled to Winterhaven three months ago and has not been seen since. He too offers a reward, although it's a pitiful amount. Regardless the, Friday Knights take on the task- the more the merrier.

A day is spent equipping for the road ahead to Winterhaven, three days on foot. However all of their preparation  is put on hold when Murgeddin arrives at the Inn later that night screaming for the Knights to “come quickly”, and something about “Bad Mustard!”

And at this point session 5 comes to a close, only two Combat Encounters but also a shed load of roleplaying and background information uncovered, a little more character development and 2446 XP between the Knights present.


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## Richard Rawen

Sounds like you guys are having a blast, keep up the updates!


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## Goonalan

Richard Rawen said:


> Sounds like you guys are having a blast, keep up the updates!




We are, played the 37th session of this not last night but the night before, the first session after our dramatic change from... Drum roll, Friday night to Wednesday night, look forward to the name change.

Next session posted Saturday, although it's only a little one, another of the truncated christmas sessions, however after that we dive into the Keep on the Shadowfell and the installments get much bigger.

Cheers Paul


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 6- “Bad Mustard.”

[DM Interlude- this is the second of the Christmas sessions, once again not all of the Knights are available, also we decided what with festivities ongoing, to only play for a few hours.]

For this session we have only three Knights-
Cathal, ever-present, Human Fighter level 2, adherent to Kord. Played by Simon.
Aeolace, Eladrin Wizard level 1, the Firestarter, or so it seems. Played by Paul.
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer level 1. Also played by Simon.

And then we're on with the action...

“Bad Mustard” Murgeddin explains, on the way to the catacombs, was a rascal, a bounder, and a cad; only he doesn't use such purty language- “Bad Mustard” was a bad bastard, a robber and a murderer.
“Was?” Cathal enquires.

It turns out “Bad Mustard” has been dead a dozen years and yet his tomb has been disturbed, seemingly in the Bloodreaver attack. Earlier today a bunch of the living dead staggered out into the light and waylaid several terrified citizens, they were eventually destroyed by the Fallcrest Guard.

The Friday Knights are tasked to enter the Tomb and discover what's going on.

[DM Interlude, as with session 5 there are no pretty pictures to go with this report, subject to the same computer crash, and the same failure to back up the files- normal service, rest assured, resumes with session 7.]

“Bad Mustard”'s tomb turns out to be a maze of corridors and small ante-chambers, there are few signs of life, although there are signs of passing- clearly someone has been here recently.

Eventually the someone's passing are located, the bodies of three Goblins, charred and cindered, burnt to a crisp, they look to have fallen foul of some sort of flaming trap. 

The Knights, ever cautious, press on and finally emerge into a large central chamber that seems to have been locked away in the darkness for the last dozen years, except...

On the far side of the chamber is an ornate sarcophagi. 

It has been opened.

The Knights creep closer, there are various other exits about the chamber, Immeral pulls up short; he's heard something. Over to the right a large beetle chomps on the remains of a human skeleton, trying to get at the marrow in the bones.

Immeral whips out his javelin and flings it, it smashes through the Carrion Beetle's hard carapace and kills it dead. Immeral's javelin turns to a wisp of smoke and reappears in his hand, a neat trick.

With a self-satisfied grin the Eladrin Artificer nods to Cathal who leads the gang over to the opened sarcophagi, it's at this point that eleven more of the Carrion Beetles chitter into the chamber, making either for the the fallen body of their companion, or else for the fresh flesh of the Knights- it kicks off.

The Knights are soon kicking ass, however seconds later a half-dozen or more Decrepit Skeletons rattle forth from the same dark exits and close in on the Knights.

To make matters worse a rancid wreck of a body pulls itself up from within the sarcophagi, grabs a hunk of its bloody bloated flesh, and hurls it at Cathal, “Bad Mustard” corrupt in life, corrupt in death- a Corruption Corpse.

The Knights are quickly surrounded - although this proves to be an ill-advised tactic -  as Immeral unleashes his arcane powers,  Aeolace “Firestarter” conjures a Flaming Sphere which clears a path in seconds, while Cathal remains at the front, shielding his companions and slicing through the myriad Minion enemies.

The Knights win through and close in on “Bad Mustard”, who very quickly has nowhere to go, hemmed in, he is hacked, stabbed and burnt and... buggered.

Soon after the tomb returns to silence, as silent as the grave...

[DM Interlude Encounter #14 [675 XP = Level 6] 12x Carrion Beetles (Level 1 Minions); 8x Decrepit Skeletons (Level 1 Minions) & “Bad Mustard”, Corruption Corpse (Level 4 Artillery) Too easy again, I'm going to have to learn to just let loose.]

Enemies vanquished, the Knights take a turn to investigate the tomb of “Bad Mustard”. They find nothing- nothing at all of any value, not in the sarcophagi, not down any of the dark exits- which lead to further disturbed tombs. Nothing, save a message.

Scratched on the inside of “Bad Mustard's” sarcophagi are some odd shaped symbols, Aeolace gets to work and uses a Comprehend Languages Ritual, ten minutes later he has his answers.
“It's written in Abyssal, it says 'the mirror is not here.'”

Which leaves everyone puzzled, furthermore Aeolace thinks the writing was done by “Bad Mustard” himself, while in the grave, while dead- clearly the message was, or is, important- important enough perhaps for the Bloodreavers to take time out from their raid to break into the tomb.

The Knights retrace their steps and head out to meet back up with Murgeddin, they tell all, the Dwarven Guard Sergeant has no clues, clearly another mystery.

And so without further ado the Knights head back to their preparations, ready themselves for the road to Winterhaven, all except Kullervo, who makes a decision.

At precisely 4 AM, when all in the Blue Moon Alehouse are sleeping, Kullervo departs- breaking out of the Inn.

The young Rogue is never seen again.

[DM Interlude, alas due to work, rest and play commitments Rob, who plays Kullervo, has had to leave us- therefore no more Kullervo, a sad moment for the me and the rest of the Knights.]

And so the very short session ends, only one Combat Encounter and a total of 975 XP, which is enough to take Aeolace to second level.

Next time the Knights head off down the King's Road to Winterhaven, until then, adieu.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Hi Goonalan

I'm still here and just caught up. I'm a bit sad to see you go to the shorter format - not that I haven't enjoyed the later posts, far from it, but just because it's only been two-thirds of a page of fun, rather than about ten!

Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate your selfish desire to hold down a job, have a life and actually spend time preparing and running the game, rather than spending all your time chained to a keyboard, nourished by nothing but PG Tips and Tunnocks caramel wafers, as you churn out page after page of perfectly formed prose for your barely appreciative and non-fee-paying public ...

Ahem ... where was I ... oh yeah - keep up the good work, and I'm glad you're having fun again DMing.


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## Richard Rawen

Heh, what 1/2 Orc/Biscuit said!


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## Goonalan

*The Friday Knights in the Keep on the Shadowfell*

Loving this game- good players, that's the secret. Also, whisper this, much easier to prep 4e, particularly using Maptools which is a lot of prep regardless. Turns are going to get a bit longer now, the gang is back.

Thanks for still reading.


The Friday Knights

Session 7- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 1 The Kobold Menace.

[DM Interlude, and so we're onto the Keep on the Shadowfell, many of the PCs are level 2 so I have of course upped the levels of the creatures and encounters, as you'll see. At this point I was hoping not to TPK the players, which is an odd thing for a DM to hope for.]

And so sans Kullervo, who is nowhere to be found, the Knights take to the King's Road heading for Winterhaven, in play this evening we have-

Antaurea, Eladrin Ranger Level 1
Astaroth, Human Fighter Level 2
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 2
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 2
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 1

Yes, Astaroth has been prised from the tender ministrations of Lady Constance- he's back.

The road is long, and windy, and yet is encounter free, our guys get into a routine - it's two and a half days of solid marching to Winterhaven afterall, and all goes well - until that is they have the walls of the town in sight. It's at this point, when the Knights are off-guard, that a pack of bloodthirsty Kobolds leap out from behind whatever cover is available, and for the most part, charge at the Knights screaming for their heads. 

Perhaps the Friday Knights fame has spread this far?

[DM Interlude- 'pack of bloodthirsty Kobolds', it just doesn't sound right; Kobolds, 3.x edition are more likely to suffer fatalities getting the top off the sauce bottle, damn 4th edition messing with Kobolds, the minions minion.]





To Koboldly go...

Kobold Minions rush screaming at the Knights, herded forward by a pair of heavily armed and armoured Dragonshields, and at the rear a lone Slinger perches atop a rock, screams up a hullabaloo, and lets fly.

The Knights however are a well oiled team; Cathal and Astaroth are straight into the fray and already four of the Minions lie dead , the Slinger is soon bloodied and searching for a way out. Then the Dragonshields arrive and, soon after, start taking a pounding, it's a massacre. 

The Slinger almost escapes but Antaurea is deadly accurate with his Twin Striking Longbow. There's little hope for the ambushers, the last to fall are the Dragonshields which turn tail and flee when their comrades have bitten the dirt, the pair are also cut down.

“Right then, Winterhaven.” Cathal declares and points the way, after a brief search of the deceased the Knights head on, having barely broken a sweat.

[DM Interlude Encounter #15 [580 XP = Level 1] 5x Kobold Minions (Level 2 Minions); Kobold Slinger (Level 2 Artillery) & 2x Kobold Dragonshields (Level 3 Soldiers). In truth the Friday Knights never missed an attack roll throughout the entire encounter, I knew then it was going to be one of those sessions.]

The Knights arrive at Winterhaven at midday, disperse and begin to pump the locals for information. 

Cathal introduces himself to Rond Kelfrem, Captain of the Winterhaven Regulars, stories are swapped- gruff men with tall tales of daring-do, eventually Cathal asks whether Winterhaven has a Kobold problem. “It's funny you should mention that”, Rond states and grins. Rond will arrange for Cathal, and the Knights, to get an audience with Lord Padraig, the ruler of the town. They do indeed have a Kobold problem and Rond doesn't have the manpower to do much about it- the Friday Knights may score some brownie points with the locals should they resolve the issue.

In fact everyone in Winterhaven has something bad to say about the “blasted Kobolds”. Eilian the Old is soon getting along famously with Astaroth, which may have something to do with the fact that the man-mountain keeps buying him beers in Wrafton's Inn.

Eilian considers himself to a man of lettres (sic.), a learned man, a local historian, almost a sage- he's also able to burp show tunes, which he does now and then when the conversation turns dull. Eilian thinks Redcaps are the problem, he's not sure what a Redcap is but he's heard that they are “mean buggers”, and red.

Astaroth, the lug, is foolish enough to ask about Cult activities in the area, which gets the old farmer excited- he offers to pay a pretty silver to watch a virgin being sacrificed- the pair get on famously, Astaroth, it seems, has a friend for life.

Antaurea, also in Wrafton's Inn, chats with the owner- Salvina Wrafton, she too has only bad things to say about the Kobolds, rumours of darker deeds, kidnappings and the like, attacks on the road- all bad for business. She also remembers Douven Staul, the archaeologist that Nimozaran back in Fallcrest was harping on about, he stayed at the Inn for a while, but left after talking to Eilian.

Antaurea and Astaroth redouble their efforts and soon enough, actually three and a half pints later, Eilian reveals that he directed Douven to an old burial site to the south west of the town, supposedly the last resting place of a dragon. He'll draw them a map for a shiny silver coin, for a gold coin he'll even colour it in. Astaroth and Antaurea go for the silver option, although Astaroth regrets it instantly, thinking perhaps he could have helped with the colouring in... perhaps next time.

Ignaran in the meantime has found Sister Linora, Priestess of Avandra, she's desperate for help, and Ignaran is desperate to help- a match made in heaven. It seems the Kobold menace is serious, farms have been attacked, people are missing, and Lord Padraig, despite her pleas, has done nothing about it. Ignaran knows just the people, she smiles wistfully, and he departs.

The Knights take a further hour to chat to a number of other townsfolk including Bairwin the Shopkeeper and Thair Coalstriker the Dwarven Smith. The Smith swears a lot and spits into his forge, not much enamoured with Kobolds; while the Shopkeeper, Bairwin proves less forthcoming.

The Knights also fail to speak with three other townsfolk, not for the want of trying- Lord Padraig is busy at present, although a future meeting is on the cards- Rond assures Cathal; Valthrun the Prescient, a Sage- no really, and wise-man. No amount of hammering on the door of his tower is enough to stir him; and lastly a beautiful Elven lass called Ninaran, a local hunter, who is wary of Antaurea's advances in Wrafton's Inn, the Eladrin however is certain she is just playing hard to get.

The Knights take lunch and share their findings, a plan of action is agreed and after only two hours in Winterhaven the band hit the road again, bound for the Burial Site that Eilian the Old spoke of, after all it's less than two hours distance, and they haven't killed anything in ages.

All does not go as planned.

No surprises there then.

While on the road discussing what to do should another Kobold ambush take place they are ambushed by some Kobolds, what's the word- like coppery... irony, that's it.

A wall of Kobold Dragonshields come rushing forward, charging into the fray and cutting Cathal and Astaroth before the pair have  had a chance to even draw their weapons. An Energy Orb bursts and blasts Ignaran badly scorching his armour and body, a critical hit.

The Knights spring in to action but not before the Dragonshields manage to hit both Fighters again, it's serious now. Astaroth and Cathal set to work; chopping, slicing, dicing and blocking. Ignaran conjures Wolfie who appears close to the Kobold Wyrmpriest- the Energy Orb slinger- which causes the creature to cease his infernal flinging.

Immeral joins the fray and Antaurea peppers the closest targets, soon the Dragonshields are losing ground, two are quickly bloodied, then equally quickly despatched, freeing up Cathal to charge the Wyrmpriest. It's at this point that the Kobold Skirmisher, hidden thus far, dodges from behind a rock and sinks his spear into Cathal's back, the warrior of Kord is very bloodied.

Right on cue the Wyrmpriest cuts and runs- which alas proves to be not soon enough, Antaurea remains as far away from the action as he can get and yet in range of everyone, the Wyrmpriest is killed, two arrows in his back- bullseye.

From there it just gets worse for the remaining Kobolds, those left standing attempt to scarper but none get far, they're all cut down.

[DM Interlude, and this DM is relieved, I wanted to get past this encounter, I TPK'ed a group here last time I played Shadowfell. I feel better that the Knights are still alive, I can start trying to kill them now.]





Cower before my great Orbs of Energy...

[DM Interlude Encounter #16 [750 XP = Level 3] Kobold Skirmisher (Level 2 Skirmisher); 3x Kobold Dragonshields (Level 3 Soldiers) & Kobold Wyrmpriest (Level 4 Artillery (Leader)) Relieved this one is over.]

A brief search follows, with little of interest found, except for a crude brooch in the shape of a ram-horned demon, that would be Orcus then. Which gets the Knights attention.

Soon after the Knights head off again- on the road to the Burial Site.  An hour later they're at the site, and there's a friendly Gnome on hand to help them with their investigations, how nice.

The Burial Site is a large crater in the ground, with a fenced off area in the centre, four rough looking fellows swing picks and shovels at the behest of a smiling Gnome by the name of Agrid. He spots the Knights, smiles some more and motions for them to come and join him down in the crater. The rough men, labourers likely, lean on their spades and gap-toothed gawp at the Knights.

Which leaves the Knights floundering for a while, bonhomie is not what they're used to, now if they'd thrown spears the Knights would have known how to react, and yet a number of their collective spider-senses are tingling, all is not as it seems, they think out loud.

Antaurea remains hidden in a bush a little behind the action, a broken conversation takes place, all affable one-way (Agrid the Gnome), and heaps of suspicion the other way (the Friday Knights).

The two groups trade increasingly barbed remarks, particularly when Agrid and his diggers state that they have never heard of Douven Staul, and yet, eventually the Knights, or at least four of them head down into the crater to have a look around.

That's when Agrid springs his trap, but to be honest the Knights are ready and waiting, put a map on the screen in maptools and the Knights kinda get the feeling they should be rolling initiative.

[DM Interlude, I actually have lots of maps that are not combat encounters, and I sometimes try to keep from revealing the map as long as I can, but when it's needed as a visual aid, well it's difficult- bit of a give away though at times. Obviously when I'm doing the ambushes (Encounters #15 and #16) I don't reveal the map until the encounter has already begun.]

As I was saying, Agrid and friends launch their attack.





Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones...

“Destroy the meddlers”, Agrid declares, then buries a crossbow bolt in Cathal's chest, to add insult to injury a Halfling, Jersey Turnpike, appears from behind some rocks and twirls his sling around his head, and then makes three sling attacks- two of which hit home - Ignaran and Astaroth, although the damage is not great.

The Human Rabble stride forward swinging their picks and spades, which actually isn't that terrifying to behold, alas the ragged foursome are cut down in a matter of seconds. The Halfling Slinger is also sent scurrying when Antaurea's Twin Strike proves too hot to handle, particularly as one of the hits was a critical.

Then the reinforcements arrive, a pair of Guard Drakes scuttle around the fenced area and into the midst of the Knights; Astaroth, Ignaran and Immeral are drawn into close combat, Cathal is in hot pursuit of Agrid who is back-pedalling furiously, while Antaurea remains out of reach, content to snipe at the piddling enemies.

[DM Interlude- the Ranger, I believe, has yet to take even one hit point damage since its creation, and I've targeted him, believe me, I've just not hit once. However he's usually last in line and partially concealed much of the time.]

The Guard Drakes prove to be tough opponents, particularly as their bites seem more effective when the pair are fighting in tandem, that said  the Knights still manage to make short work of them. Agrid is backed up the slope and out the other side of the crater, and then is struck a mighty blow by Cathal; result- the Gnome disappears from sight and scurries away at top speed, leaving Cathal looking somewhat bemused, and silently fuming.

[DM Interlude Encounter #17 [727 XP = Level 2] 4x Human Rabble (Level 3 Minions); 2x Guard Drakes (Level 3 Brutes); Jersey Turnpike, Halfling Slinger (Level 2 Artillery) & Agrid, Gnome Skulk (Level 3 Lurker (Leader)). Lovely bit of roleplay to start us off, the Knights know, or rather- think, it's a trap but are trying hard to find the words to get the Gnome or the Rabble to give the game away.]

The Rabble are searched, as is the area, thoroughly, and in a bed roll, tied up, the Knights discover Douven Staul, a blustering old wreck who “could'a handled 'em 'imself”, if the Knights had only given him the chance, and boy does he have a story to tell.

The archaeologist had just started to remove the bones of the ancient dragon from the ground when the Gnome turned up, it went downhill rapidly from there, the Gnome it seems was looking for a mirror, Douven tells them.
“A mirror?” The Knights parrot back remembering the message on the inside of “Bad Mustard's” tomb.

Douven, the wily old bugger, however kept the mirror secret, he'd found it much earlier in the dig and had buried it just a little away from the crater, and marked the place- he fetches the mirror for the Knights to take a look.

Ignaran and Immeral get to work, the mirror seems to be some arcane device, perhaps used as a focus for some Ritual, they're not sure what sort of ritual as of yet. Douven allows them to keep the thing, for saving his life- he also offers a further reward, it seems Agrid stole his locket from him. The locket contains the only picture Douven possess of his recently deceased wife, he wants it back, and the Gnome brought to book. The Knights can keep the locket, it is after all magical, he just wants the picture of his wife back, the old romantic.

Before the Knights head back to town Douven takes them on a guided tour of his dig. He seems to have uncovered the bones of a great dragon, dead many centuries, the dragon it seems died in battle with a number of large winged humanoids- possibly demons or devils, odd.

The Knights take the slightly battered Douven back to Winterhaven, getting back to the town just before the great gates are shut.

Douven has one last nugget to pass on, before he's sent upstairs to sleep his ordeal off, “there's a spy in Winterhaven”, he hisses to Cathal and without further explanation stomps off up the stairs.

Which leaves the Knights with time on their hands and a pub full of people, the inevitable drinking session is averted when Rond appears and indicates that he has secured a meeting with Lord Padraig...

Who turns out to be the cloaked figure accompanying Rond, Lord Padraig is younger than they expected, and for all the complaints of the townsfolk at his inability to deal with the Kobold menace, a good man- just beset by too many problems.

The group secure a private booth out of sight and away from eavesdroppers, Lord Padraig proposes that the Knights solve the Kobold problem, Rond nods and agrees, in short a deal is done. The young Lord then announces to the Inn that the Knights are here to save the day, that the Kobolds will no longer menace the highways and byways, and on he goes.

So, no pressure then.

The Knights are bought drinks, Antaurea spots Ninaran, the Elven Hunter and marks her as Quarry, the two retire to a corner for a quiet chat. Ninaran is all smiles and glad tidings, she does however refuse Antaurea's offer of a cosy bed, instead she shares her secrets- she knows where the Kobolds are and is happy to provide what little information she has, wanting only to see them punished.

Ninaran describes the route to a cave behind a waterfall, perhaps six miles to the northwest of Winterhaven, worse still she believes  that this cave is not only home to the “blasted Kobolds”, but also to some dark cult- she has seen hooded men within the woods. Antaurea promises, and an Eladrin never breaks his promises, that he will end the Cult and the Kobolds, tomorrow, lead his men (get him) into the fray, as he always does- from the front.

Cathal, listening in, nearly falls off his stool at this point.

There's more to the evening however, Bairwin the shopkeeper has a quiet word with Immeral and Cathal. He tells a tale of a dishevelled Gnome, trying to sell him some ancient mirror, he had found a buyer in Fallcrest for such an artefact, however the Gnome failed to complete his end of the bargain- he never saw the miscreant again. 

Before Cathal can counter, Astaroth butts in and states that the Knights have the mirror, and how much is it worth exactly.  Bairwin is surprised and then delighted- he offers 100gp, here and now for the thing, he doesn't want to disappoint his buyer in Fallcrest.

Before the deal can be sealed however a messenger arrives, from Valthrun the Prescient, who the messenger states had predicted the arrival of brave adventurers to the fair town of Winterhaven this morning while reading the leaves of his breakfast tea. 

The Knights are expected, in his tower, now.

The audience with Valthrun is... well judge for yourselves.

Valthrun, swathed in a voluminous purple crushed velvet robe (actually an old pair of curtains worn like a poncho), swoons hard left, then hard right. Effects a gruff quacking voice and begins.

“I am in contact with the spirits, I'm getting a name, beginning with...”
The Knights lean in, against their better judgement, mesmerised.
“K.” Vathrun declares.
Cathal goes for “Shush”, but Astaroth gets to “Kalarel” first, and blurts it out.
Valthrun swoons some more, then finally declares...
“No, that's not it- what is your name spirit?” He screams.
Causing Ignaran to spill his drink down himself.

And on it goes

By the end of the evening Valthrun has been asked to look into the history of a ruined Keep, half a days journey to the Northeast of the town. The Knights have heard stories of it in passing, nothing concrete, but by the end of the evening they just want to get out of Valthrun's tower- the man is clearly a charlatan.

Gone midnight, the Knights tramp back to the Inn and head for their rooms, and rest- tomorrow the Kobolds, and the Cultists, two for the price of one.

For those still interested the spirit's name turned out to be 'Keith.'

The next day the Knights rise and a little after head out of Winterhaven, en route to the Kobold/Cultist lair. they've not gone far up the track however when they run into trouble, a dying man stumbles up the road- fails to make words and collapses, dead- he looks to be a drover, or an impoverished farmer.

The Knights rush on, towards smashing sounds just over a rise in the road, ahead they spot a caravan, mid-ransack, at least eight Kobolds, all shapes and sizes- without further ado the Knights charge in.

Kobold Minions pour forward to meet them, a Kobold Hurler-  standing on the back of a wagon - takes aim. Another Kobold armed with a pike defends a second wagon.

Cathal and Astaroth again cut through the Minions. The Kobold Hurler looses a flask of fire which singes Ignaran somewhat and puts him off his stride, and to make matters worse a Kobold Slyblade skulks out from beneath one of the wagons and buries his short sword in Cathal's knee, which hurts a lot.

Once again Antaurea hovers at the rear, his arrows however are incredibly effective, the Kobold Hurler is soon permanently put out of action. The Minions are likewise quick to fall, and soon after only the ducking, dodging Kobold Slyblade and the Pikeman are left alive.

The Slyblade falls next as the wagon he hides under, the same wagon the Pikeman prods down from, is surrounded- the creature falls to a hedge of blades.

The Pikeman runs, but doesn't get far, and this time the Knights choose to capture the creature, it takes quite a chase but they get their Kobold.

The Kobold Pikeman proves to be not that well informed, the Knights learn that there is indeed a Waterfall Cave, that they are on the right track, and that the Kobolds lair there. They also learn that the Kobolds are lead by a Goblin known as Irontooth, who turns out to be... wouldn't you know it, a Bloodreaver General. Cathal thinks the 'general' bit may be an overstatement. Nothing about cults however.

Suitably informed of what lies ahead the Knights ponder what to do with the captured Kobold, while they are pondering Astaroth kills it.





Kobolds, available in an increasing number of flavours.

[DM Interlude Encounter #18 [661 XP = Level 2] 6x Kobold Minions (Level 2 Minions); Kobold Hurler (Level 3 Artillery); Kobold Pikeman (Level 3 Brute) & Kobold Slyblade (Level 4 Lurker (Leader))]

[DM Interlude, Immeral now has enough XP to advance to Level 2 after an extended rest.]

The Knights rest a short while, after discovering a rough Kobold encampment, and a little further down the road the body of the second drover- nothing more of import alas. They decide to pick up the drovers' bodies on their return journey to Fallcrest, such is their confidence. Of the horses there are no signs, except for snapped reins.

They plunge on, off road, through the woods, Antaurea giving directions, remembering the route that Ninaran told him.

An hour or so later the Knights are paddling across a shallow stream, ahead they can see a low waterfall - this must be the place - when Ignaran spots something, or rather some thing. A little way ahead a bored Kobold Minion picks his nose and fails to notice the Knights mid-stream.

The Knights do their best to stay silent and creep a little closer, then they unleash the artillery, result – dead Kobold Minion, the attack however rouses the as yet unobserved other Kobolds present- all twelve of them.

The Knights are swiftly surrounded and in the thick of it, as Kobold Minions pour out of the woods, a Kobold Slinger takes aim and clonks Immeral on the head.  A Kobold Dragonshield stands within some sort of magic circle and squeaks for Cathal to come and fight him.





Friday Knights all right for fighting.

Once again the Kobold Minions prove ill-equipped to thwart the Knights, they're quickly despatched, as is the Slinger, again courtesy of Antaurea.

The Dragonshield gets his wish, Cathal advances, takes a few hits and then slays the thing. While this is happening a Kobold Skirmisher dashes out of concealment from within the woods, stabs Antaurea hard in the side, and then scarpers back out of sight.

[DM Interlude, a hit, a hit- a palpable hit on Antaurea, the first. Of many, I hope.]  

There follows a conga of Knights lead by the Kobold Skirmisher through the woods, reminiscent of a Benny Hill Sketch, the Knights get their Kobold before the creature manages to circle back to the entrance to the waterfall cave, just mind you, the creature is at the lip of the cave and climbing when he's finally brought down- Immeral's javelin this time doing the damage.

[DM Interlude Encounter #18 [650 XP = Level 2] 10x Kobold Minions (Level 1 Minions); Kobold Slinger (Level 2 Artillery); Kobold Skirmisher (Level 2 Skirmisher) & Kobold Dragonshield (Level 3 Soldier)]

The waterfall guards are dead.

The way ahead is clear, and those inside the cave have not been alerted, probably. 

And thus the seventh session draws to a close, and what a session, gone is the fifteen minute day, banished forever with 4th Edition, all you naysayers.. doesn't matter, this is not the place to resurrect the argument. Five combat encounters and a shed load of investigation, the Knights are on track, earning a total of 6805 XP between them.


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## Richard Rawen

Good Stuff Goon!


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## Snoweel

A wyrmpriest named after a Croatian football club?

Nice one.


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## Goonalan

Snoweel said:


> A wyrmpriest named after a Croatian football club?
> 
> Nice one.




As a much younger man I was a football freak (watching and playing), at the age of 14 I'd played in several european countries, I wasn't bad at it (actually I was just big for my age and liked kicking people). I also had a thing about words (and now I have an English degree or two and lecture for a living)... and then Hadjuk Split came into my life, it's probably not the correct spelling but to me... Genius name, I didn't know it was a place, I thought it was just, well... a Hadjuk Split, I can't say it without smiling.

The world is just a better place for it, or at least my corner of it.

Story ends.

Thanks for reading.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

I am now expecting a kobold (or other beastie) called Dukla Prague to appear (in his away kit of course)


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## Snoweel

And his mate Rupel Boom.


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## Goonalan

Snoweel said:


> And his mate Rupel Boom.




What a Name! Oh he's a dark one Rupel Boom, and what's that under his surcoat... that's how he got his name.

Look out for Rupel Boom, you know he's going to mean business.

He may have a hunchbacked-henchperson, Dukla Prague, but he'll be apush over i comparison to his boss.

Thanks for reading.

Cheers Paul


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights  

Session 8- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 2 The Spy in Winterhaven.

[DM Interlude, time for a player shuffle, which is always a problem when you're writing up the action- several of PCs used in the last session are retired, temporarily perhaps, as new players are available for the game.]

And so hotfooting it from Winterhaven come another two Friday Knights, having caught up at last, only recently arrived from Fallcrest, the first is known to us, Aeolace is back in the action, the second however is a new face- he's called Lucan.

Lucan, Elven Rogue, a dashing young thing with a cruel smile and glinting eyes.  He's the replacement for Kullervo, although he'd argue that Kullervo was just warming his place. Lucan is another native of Fallcrest, although he's a slum dweller, unlikely to move in the same circles as Cathal, the other resident of the city. Lucan is played by Jack.

With the changing of the guard, then, Antaurea and Ignaran are sent back to Winterhaven- the Druid and the Eladrin Ranger are... Well, Mike who plays the pair has had to work, and seven characters are too many to take with us.

I know it's unsatisfactory from a narrative perspective but this is the way that games go when players are not always available.

So just to confirm, players for this session are-
Aeolace, Eladrin Wizard Level 2
Astaroth, Human Fighter Level 2
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 2
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 1, after an Extended Rest Level 2
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 1 

The Knights chat a while and prepare themselves for what lies ahead, cautiously- Lucan first, hiding as best he can in the shadows, the Knights head into the Kobolds' lair in search of Irontooth, the Goblin Bloodreaver leader, and the members of the dark cult said to lair here.

They enter a world of pain.

It seems they are expected - the first wave, a smattering of Kobold Minions; screaming, hollering and gesticulating wildly- the wave breaks against Cathal and Astaroth who hold the line.

Behind the Minions, Kobold Skirmishers dash in, spears at the ready, and there are more Kobolds, and worse, coming towards the Knights.

But now Aeolace and Immeral have shuffled through the waterfall, a Scorching Burst suddenly appears amidst the massed ranks of the enemies, it devastates and breaks the second wave. Immeral tosses his Javelin which lands in the rough ground and then sprays out spectral thorns, lashing and cutting through Minions.

Less than twenty seconds later there are only two Minions left standing, one of the three Skirmishers has fallen, another is bloodied. However, added to the Knights woes are a pair of Dragonshields which advance in step, slashing with their shortswords. Behind them a Kobold Wyrmpriest who tosses Energy Orbs into the Knights, and leaps from foot to foot and cackles with glee- the Wyrmpriest is called Pensacola, remember that name, the Knights will.

Then finally stepping into the fray is Irontooth, the Goblin with... you guessed it, iron teeth.

The scene is set, the battle joined, it gets bloody very quickly.






Here comes Irontooth.

Immeral takes on all comers with his javelin, rarely misses, another Kobold Skirmisher falls. Astaroth tries to fend off Irontooth's ferocious blows, fails more often than not, and is quickly bloodied and sinking fast. Cathal is pressed against the Kobold Dragonshields, trying to get through to the Wyrmpriest, but not succeeding. Lucan stays towards the back, either spiralling out daggers from his hand or else nipping in to stab a lone Kobold in the back. Aeolace stays as far away as he can, and flounders a little before coming up with his master plan- Sleep.

Suddenly several of the Kobold feel woozy, it's like they're moving in quicksand, five of the remaining Kobolds, and Irontooth are slowed.

The fight goes on, Cathal is bloodied, Lucan is dragged into a knock-down fracas with the last Kobold Skirmisher and one of the Dragonshields, he's not as effective going toe-to-toe. Astaroth is almost on his knees, on 4 hit points and fading fast. Immarel is needed now, his Curative Admixture Encounter Power to the fore, healing the Knights as fast, nearly, as they are being battered down.

Then Irontooth falls.

Asleep.

As do two other Kobolds.

[DM Interlude- yep, I'm failing saving throws like it's going out of fashion.]

The fight is lost, the Kobolds see into their immediate future- it's pretty bloody, and flee. Alas it's only Pensacola, the Kobold Wyrmpriest that manages to escape the Knights clutches. The chafing Kobold plunges through the waterfall and disappears out into the forest. I wonder if we'll see him again?

In the chaos Astaroth has his revenge, Irontooth, snoozing happily, is however still the target of his attacks- the Goblin finally manages to tear himself away from Aeolace's Sleep spell's grasp. He's not done, and yet... He has nowhere to go.

Vainly, furiously, he battles on, even when he's surrounded he continues to swing desperately- bloodying Lucan and Immeral before he falls- pierced, pounded and thumped.

Irontooth is dead.

Titanic.

[DM Interlude Encounter #20 [1510 XP = Level 7] 10x Kobold Minions (Level 2 Minions); 3x Kobold Skirmisher (Level 2 Skirmisher); 2x Kobold Dragonshield (Level 3 Soldier); Pensacola, Kobold Wyrmpriest (Level 4 Artillery) & Irontooth, Goblin Brute (Level 4 Elite Brute). Until the sleep spell hits it was in the balance, with Astaroth a round from down, Cathal almost down, and Irontooth and Pensacola almost without hurt.]

The lair is searched, and much treasure found- Irontooth has a chest, Lucan has a lockpick, a little later the Knights have the best part of 500 gold coins in their hands, and a suit of well made +1 Dwarven Scale, Immeral confirms with his arcana check.





Lucan arrives just in time to rescue the treasure.

Also in the chest are Irontooth's orders-

“My spy in Winterhaven suggests we keep an eye out for visitors to the area. It probably does not matter; in just a few more days, I’ll completely open the rift. Then Winterhaven’s people will serve as food for all those Lord Orcus sends to do my bidding.”

Signed Kalarel, which makes the Knights smile and nod knowingly- now they're in the hunt. 

All they have to do is find out where this rift, “portal”, Immeral translates, is. Best guess is the Keep not so very far away from the town of Winterhaven. This then, it is agreed ,will be the Knights' next port of call, after they return to Winterhaven to tell their tale, and root out the spy.

The mention of Orcus gets their collective attention- Cathal goes for a stirring five minute speech exhorting his colleagues to vanquish the Lord of Undeath and all his scumbling fawning foul servitors- those that understand it are put right in the mood.

Further searching reveals another, very short, note- crudely scribbled on a strip of leather, clearly cut from from a larger piece- the notes simply states, “they're coming!”

The “they” Cathal confirms are “us”, the Friday Knights- clearly Irontooth was warned of their approach- now who have the Knights been talking to?

However the Knights are spent, they rest- sleep, stay put in the cave and get their breath back after the titanic battle with Irontooth and his Kobold army.

[Cathal now has enough XP to move to level 3 after the battle with Irontooth, and after the Extended Rest he rises, ready for more adventure, a more experienced warrior. Immeral is also level 2 now.]

It's early evening when the Knights head back out again, at pace and in silence they travel, back the way they came- towards Winterhaven. They're almost back to town two hours later when they hear some strange noises- screams in the night.

Lucan and Immeral lead the way, through woods and into a farmer's field, lights ahead, from the farm house, and when the Knights get closer still they can see that the front door of the family home has been smashed open.

The Knights spread out, approach at Cathal's signal- a poor imitation of an owl hoot, and head in- the screams continue, someone's in trouble and the Knights are here to save the day.

They get the drop on the Bandits within the farm, who are too busy making merry with the farmer's family- women and children scream and wrestle with their captors, the farmer barks and brays tossed back and forth between two Human Lackeys.

A Magic Missile flies from Aeolace's outstretched hand, Immeral's javelin takes down the two Lackeys playing with the bloodied farmer. Cathal cuts another Lackey down and charges on, Astaroth leaves his greataxe in the back of a Human Ruffian, while Lucan's dagger finds a home in between the shoulder-blades of yet another Human Ruffian.

All is chaos, the Bandits attempt to take hostages but are prevented by the continued flurry of spell and blade, almost in an instant the Bandits are broken. That is, until a huge monstrosity seemingly carved from stone strides into the chamber, the Killinator, a retarded axe-swinging monster of a man- sound familiar. 

Astaroth's eyes light up, he slays the Ruffian he is battling and races forward to get his man. Then from the opposite side of the farmer's home a familiar face appears, Jersey Turnpike, the Halfling Slinger the Knights last encountered in the company of Agrid, the Gnome, at the Burial Site.

The few Bandits left renew their efforts, but it's still not enough. A swatting Human Mercenary accompanying the Killinator, leads the retreat. Bloodied he flees, diving through perhaps the only still intact window in the building; he escapes into the night.

But he's the only one, Astaroth goes axe to axe and wins the day, eventually, against the Killinator. Cathal and the others mop up the remaining Bandits; Jersey Turnpike, battered, bruised and bloodied is captured- still alive, and shoved in a sack and kicked for a while, till he goes quiet.





Knock! Knock!

[DM Interlude Encounter #21 [1000 XP = Level 5] 4x Human Lackeys (Level 7 Minions); 2x Human Ruffians (Level 2 Skirmishers); Human Mercenary (Level 3 Soldier); Human Berserker (Level 4 Brute) & Jersey Turnpike, Halfling Slinger (Level 2 Artillery (Leader)).]

The farmer family are made comfortable. Although their home has been destroyed, their lives have been saved- the Friday Knights are hugged, kissed, wept upon and otherwise made to miss their own homes and families. Uncle Astaroth dandles a child on each knee, plays horsey and grins like a chimp.

Except for Lucan, who mooches about the residence, “clearing up”, and helping himself to anything valuable he can find.

Which just leaves us with Jersey Turnpike, the now awake Halfling Slinger, he's turfed out of the bag and taken into another room for a quiet chat. A little while later the terrified Halfling sings like a canary- “it's Bairwin, Bairwin the shopkeeper, he pays us- that's all I know! Please don't kill me.”

Astaroth, still in tears after his welcome from the farmer's family- Uncle Astaroth as he will be forever known, well... he's not inclined to clemency. The man-mountain strangles the Halfling- kills him dead, with the other Friday Knights watching on, not helping.

[DM Interlude- the Friday Knights have a mean streak.]

The Knights have pressing business in Winterhaven. They stay a while longer, give money to the family, actually two years worth of wages and then grab the farmer's cart, now packed with the farmer family and their belongings, and head off to Winterhaven- it's getting late.

Strange, the doors to the town are wide open, and the Knights are off again, all action. Ahead a body flies through the window of Wrafton's Inn, Bairwin the shopkeeper is temporarily forgotten, they leap into action and weapons drawn spill into the Inn.

It's Agrid making trouble, more mercenaries, the locals are trying to contend with them, but are losing the battle fast.





A quiet drink at Wrafton's.

The tide turns very quickly, faced with the Friday Knights again Agrid and his companions do the best they can for a little while, and in cramped conditions- several of the Bandits pick a window, smash through them and flee.

Cathal notices that Ninaran, the Elven Hunter, seems to be subject of a number of the Bandits ire, he dashes in to save her.

The fracas is short and to the point, the Human Thugs are all left dead, the Human Ruffians either flee or are killed, the Human Mercenary is out of the bar in a flash- Agrid himself tries to escape but is brought to a stand still by Lucan's Positioning Strike, like the Halfling before him, he's bagged and beaten.

Soon after, the Inn returns to calm.

[DM Interlude Encounter #22 [749 XP = Level 2] 4x Human Thugs (Level 2 Minions); 2x Human Ruffians (Level 3 Skirmishers); Human Mercenary (Level 4 Soldier) & Agrid, Gnome Skulk (Level 3 Lurker (Leader)).]

The Knights are still in a rush however, they quickly take to beating Agrid, looking for confirmation of their target- “it's Bairwin, it's Bairwin!” Agrid screams.

The Gnome is left in the capable hands of Rond, who has now made his way to the Inn, it seems a good half-dozen of the Winterhaven Regulars are dead. Rond is also informed of the Kobold attack on the caravan on the north road. He promises to take care of this in the morning, when the town is properly secured.

The Knights double across the road to Bairwin's Grande Shoppe, Astaroth kicks in the door and the lot of them charge inside- empty, save the shop's wares, which Lucan takes to searching through, looking for the till float- and anything else he fancies.

Immeral however has found a trap door, stairs down, lights and chanting- something dark and nasty sounding, Cathal grins and leads them in.

Straight into a dark shrine dedicated to the Death Lord, Orcus- Bairwin (possibly) in a cowled robe at the front leading the chant. Two twisted Goblins, Dark Servants, spot the Knights and interrupt Bairwin's ceremony with screeches and shouts.

The fight is joined and, as the Knights move forward, from the walls of the dark chapel come a pair of almost formless shadows- Sightless Reapers, armed with spectral scythes.

The Dark Servants block their passage using their daggers to deliver necrotised slashes and slices, although they're nowhere near as effective as the Sightless Reapers with their scythes- Cathal and Astaroth are almost bloodied in the opening moments.

Bairwin uses Darkness Unleashed, calling on the power of Orcus, and leaving Immeral blinded, wounded and spun back, and out of the action. Then the Knights find their feet, Aeolace's Scorching Burst makes a mess of the Dark Servants who are then cut down by Astaroth and Cathal, who surge forward and onto Bairwin- the Cult leader, the Spy within Winterhaven, or so the Knights think. 

He struggles hard against them, limited to trying to block and parry their blows with his Quarterstaff, alas he's not up to the job.

The Sightless Reapers prove their mettle, but are finally taken down by the force of the Knights, almost at the same time that Bairwin is at last slain.

The fight is short but very bloody, the Knights breathe a sigh of relief, the menace within the town is ended, they heal and set about searching the fallen, and the chamber- intent to find further evidence of Bairwin's foul activities.





A Cult Hit.

[DM Interlude Encounter #23 [825 XP = Level 3] 2x Dark Servants (Level 3 Skirmishers); 2x Sightless Reapers (Level 4 Soldiers) & Bairwin, Human Mage Cult Leader (Level 4 Controller (Leader)).]

[DM Interlude Astaroth now has enough XP to get to level 3, after the next Extended Rest.]

Bairwin has in his possession Douven Staul's amulet, the Friday Knights grab this to return to the aged archaeologist. A secret chamber is revealed with a number of books dedicated to the worship of Orcus, also a stash of money and a Ritual Book which Aeolace gets his hands on.

There are also yet another set of orders, once again from Kalarel, it seems the Knights are working their way up the management structure. Cathal reads aloud-

“Your latest shipment of supplies should meet the Keep’s needs until the ritual is finished, which should be any day now. I require more sacrifices however, see that Agrid and his men locate more supplicants. Rest assured that you will be rewarded for your actions on behalf of Orcus once the rift is open. —Kalarel.”

Which fills in the missing gaps.

The Knights head back to the Inn, inform Rond of all that has occurred, and then exhausted head to their beds after a quiet drink. The mood is sombre, there's been a lot of death one way or another. 

A beautiful morning puts a slightly better spin on things. The Knights are in a rush to get to the Keep and yet Lord Padraig and Valthrun the Prescient have already left messages, they both need to see them as soon as possible.

Sister Linora is also at the Inn for breakfast, she's been busy all night dealing with the dead and the wounded. And yet she still has a smile for the Knights, and a clutch of Potions of Healing, all she possesses. She knows they are bound for the Keep, and fears it will prove to be an extremely dangerous place.

The Knights head off. First stop Lord Padraig's Manor, the young Lord is smiling and yet serious, concerned that more citizens of Winterhaven, and the surrounding farms, are not in further danger. He listens to the Knights story- the destruction of Irontooth and the Kobolds, it's at this point the Knights realise that Ninaran was only half right about the Kobold lair- there were no Cultists to be found.

Lord Padraig pays his reward and then fetches out two lists of names, names of citizens of Winterhaven that have gone missing in the last month or so- most from surrounding farms. The second list is from Eoffram Troyas, the Knights patron in Fallcrest, it arrived yesterday afternoon - a comprehensive list of those presumed taken in the raid on the city.

All told, 34 innocent citizens have been taken. The Friday Knights are charged with the recovery of the missing- alive; the reward is generous; they swiftly agree to attempt the task.

Lucan, looking over Cathal's shoulder at the list of those taken from Fallcrest, notes his brother's name- Dikkon, but says nothing.

They shake hands with the busy Lord and are swiftly out of the manor and back to Valthrun's residence. The fake sage is quickly to the door and ushering them inside, he has been busy- and he's had some success.

Valthrun with a skull in one hand, and refreshments in the Knights' hands, stands one foot on a rickety stool and recites-

“In shadowed keep of tumbled stone,
A peril lurks, for years unknown,
The Kinslayer's spirit guards it yet,
'Gainst a newfound vile threat.

The Kinslayer once was proud and strong,
Until the Blood Lord came along.

The thing of evil sent dark dreams,
Nightmares wrought of tortured screams,
The vowed defender's mind did bend,
And with his blade he did rend.

Awakened to the awful truth,
Shattered bones of men and youth,
His wife and children, pride and joy,
Mistaken for demons he was forced to destroy.

The Kinslayer fled to meet death alone,
For wicked deeds he must now atone,
And so the fallen paladin must wait,
For heroes to arrive and reverse his fate.

But twisted whispers echo through the halls,
And ghostly blood runs 'long the walls,
None can face those cursed remains,
Fear like water in their veins.

A Blood Lord follower from a cursed line,
Now threatens to awake the unholy shrine,
Dark power craves as men do thirst,
Confining spells to be reversed.

Storm clouds gather with the demon's approach,
And the living dead will soon encroach,
The forces of good will never survive,
For the Prince of the Undeath will soon arrive.”

Which leaves the Knights stunned.

[DM Interlude, the above is taken from Myrhdraak's brilliant conversion H1-3 Demon Prince of Undeath Conversion, which can be found here- http://forums.gleemax.com/showthread.php?t=1089353; go there, you may have to sign in I can't remember, it's fantastic. I will be using this in further adventures in this series, although I've also added my own twists here and there.]

Astaroth looks confused, perpetually, but more so now. Cathal gets a little of it, Valthrun proves his worth and explains.

It seems the Keep used to be a bastion of the Nerath Empire.  That was until it was brought low- broken from within by a traitorous act perpetrated by Sir Keegan, the Paladin leader of the men stationed at the Keep. Sir Keegan awoke, it is said, a man possessed- slew his family and then set about slaying all of his men- he however was successfully repulsed and eventually sealed within the catacombs beneath the Keep. Soon after the Keep was abandoned.

Spin forward a century and the Keep is once again inhabited and heroes are expected, the poem confirms. There's a portal somewhere within the Keep, and some dark follower of the Prince of Death, Orcus, is set to loose a host of Undead into the Nentir Vale.

Gulps, wide-eyes and open-mouths are the order of the day, Valthrun is thanked, the Knights shuffle out- their task better defined, they must be heroes again, they must save the day, save Winterhaven, save the Nentir Vale.

The Knights head back to the Inn, remember to return Douven's amulet to him, the old archaeologist opens the amulet and takes the picture from within, his dead wife, and then passes the amulet back to Cathal.

“Keep it, for luck. You're going to need it.”

Then the old man shuffles off.

The Knights make ready and then head out of Winterhaven, en route to the Keep on the Shadowfell, and there endeth Session 8, with four combat encounters, and another 7946 XP to share about.

Till next time.

Anybody now why the write-ups appear with super large images on my screen, it never used to do, I had to click on the images to enlarge them?


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## Richard Rawen

Great stuff, very enjoyable reading... except:


Goonalan said:


> Anybody now why the write-ups appear with super large images on my screen, it never used to do, I had to click on the images to enlarge them?



Sadly while I do not know the reason for the formatting change, I do know that it forces me to copy the text out to a text editor or be forever sliding the bar back and forth to read the outside edges 
Hopefully some sage reader will help out!
Meantime I'm enjoying the story, keep it up!


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 9- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 3 Into the Keep.

And so the Knights make their way to the Keep (on the Shadowfell), Lucan regaling them with tales of his bawdy antics the night before in the Inn, with not one, but two, of the serving girls. Several of the other Knights affect either not to care, or else pour scorn on the young Elven Rogue's kiss-and-tell stories. They're above that kind of thing, or else jealous of the rakish Lucan's charms.

Which causes the young Elven Rogue to change tack completely, he calmly informs the Knights that one of those missing from Fallcrest is his brother, Dikkon...

The Knights continue on, a little more reserved now- hoping to find the Rod of Ruin, to rescue Dikkon and the other prisoners, and finally put an end to this nonsense, also to prevent the portal from opening- to save the world, or at least their corner of it.

Soon after they arrive at the Keep, a mess of fallen stones, search hither and yon and discover that humanoids, most likely goblinoids, have been this way.  There is a set of rough stone stairs leading down into darkness. 

A grim and determined Lucan leads them down.

In play this week we have-
Antaurea, Eladrin Ranger Level 1
Astaroth, Human Fighter Level 3
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 3
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 2
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 2
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 1 

[DM Interlude- some of the players are having problems being available for every Friday night session.]

Into a rough and ready guard chamber, Lucan instantly spots the danger ahead, a poorly concealed pit trap- he calls a warning. However there are also, as of yet unseen, Goblins beyond the pit trap, out of sight- a hue and cry and the Goblin Warriors come running, a pair of Sharpshooters maintain their distance and pepper the Knights as they rush into battle.

The Goblin Warriors are easily overcome, the one left standing after the initial clash is bloodied and back-pedalling furiously, all to no avail.

Cathal and Astaroth are on the trail, the pair burst into a rough Goblin bedchamber, the other Knights rush to support. The Sharpshooters see they're outmatched and attempt to flee, both heading for a pair of rotten double doors, alas they're much too slow- one is cut down, the other captured.

The fracas is livened up a little way in when a swarm of rats, bored of guarding the bottom of the aforementioned and assiduously avoided pit, climb out and harass the back marker Knights, however they too are eventually scattered- their gnawing menace swiftly curtailed.

The Knights search the Goblins and the area, discovering a few filthy coins and a foetid supply of Goblin food and drink, alongside some horrendous Goblin lodgings. Stranger still are the scrawled markings on the wall, “I killed them, the shadow comes...”, and various others in a similar vein. Immeral declares them to be the rantings of a madman- Sir Keegan probably. 

The Knights spend a little time with their captured Goblin Sharpshooter- divine that Sinruth, the Bloodreaver leader of the raid on Fallcrest is here, and that the lair's defences are the purview of a fat Goblin called Balgron the Fat, apposite really.

Alas Astaroth tires of the chat and brains the Goblin- dead.





The Friday Knights receive a warm welcome to the Keep on the Shadowfell.

[DM Interlude Encounter #24 [700 XP = Level 1] 2x Goblin Warrior (Level 2 Skirmishers); 2x Goblin Sharpshooters (Level 3 Artillery) & Rat Swarm (Level 3 Skirmisher).]

[DM Interlude- Antaurea has now enough XP for level 2, all he needs now is an extended rest.]

The Knights head out, forsaking all other exits, they make for the rotten double doors to which the Sharpshooters were fleeing.

They descend stairs into darkness, a maze of tunnels or so it seems, and then a light, a great arcane symbol blocks their path. Before they can properly investigate this new discovery, moans and groans are heard, from the south, the east... oh and the west- in fact from every direction except the north, from which direction they entered this maze of chambers.

The Knights form a defensive line, as shambling around various corners and into sight come a gaggle of Zombies, Rotters and worse, the Knights retreat to the stairs and reform, to make their stand.

Ranged attacks are the order of the day until, that is, the Zombie horde have them hemmed in on all sides, then the fighting really begins. 

Wave upon wave of the shambling dead throw themselves at the Knights but the line stands fast, the artillery continue to batter and burn, until finally the last of the undead have fallen.

The Knights wait a while, catch their breath, and listen intently for any further moans and groans- silent; silent as the grave.





The Dead Centre.

[DM Interlude Encounter #25 [1040 XP = Level 3] 10x Zombie Rotters (Level 4 Minions) & 4x Zombie (Level 3 Brutes).]

[DM Interlude- Lucan now has enough XP to make level 2, all he needs is an extended rest.]

The next half hour is spent in a complicated game of hopscotch, Lucan is sent leaping about, trying desperately to find a path through the maze, and avoid the arcane symbols that litter the route. Behind him Ignaran and Immeral put their heads together and use their arcane knowledge to make safe the the other, less athletic and acrobatic, Knights' passage.

It goes wrong only once. Lucan mis-times a leap and ends up flopping flat on his face on one of the symbols, which explodes in fury sending out tendrils of dark energy, which in turn cause the unfortunate Rogue to run pell-mell into a long forgotten chamber. The rest of the Knights eventually catch up with him there.

The chamber is decorated with the further bloody rantings of Sir Keegan, writ in some sort of fresh, yet spectral, blood; also within are the emaciated bodies of two of the captives they have come to rescue- the pair died of starvation, Ignaran confirms.

[DM Interlude- 34 citizens to find, two located, alas both dead; not a good start.]

Solemn, the Knights head off again, finally make their way to a chamber with yet another set of stairs leading down into darkness.

They descend, there's a lit chamber ahead, Lucan quietly shuffles forward and takes point.

The young elf finds his way into a guardroom, he knows this as there are two burly well-armed, and armoured, Hobgoblin Warriors standing less than fifteen feet before him, on guard. He swiftly turns tail, he's seen enough and heads back to tell his story.

Moments later the Knights enter the chamber, rapidly- that is charging and screaming all manner of obscenities and threats to a person.

Which catches the Hobgoblin Warriors out, Cathal sends one of the pair tumbling into a deep well the other manages to stay alive a little while longer, long enough at least to scream and holler and summon his kin.

A pair of Hobgoblin Grunts launch into life and rush down a passage to the north, which is strange as the Knights are fighting in the south of the guard chamber, from another passage to the east more Hobgoblins come, from a door to the west and yet more... you get the idea.

Soon enough a wall of interlocked shields and stabbing blades sweeps towards the Knights, from both sides of the well, the stairs- the exit, once again behind the Knights.

Antaurea's bow sings, Immeral's Javelin takes to the air, Ignaran fires Flaming Fists, Lucan manoeuvres to get into position and Cathal and Astaroth slice and dice.

Punch holes, eventually, through the Hobgoblins' shield wall and resolve.

That is until the Spider appears.

Spotted at the last moment by Lucan, the elf with the eagle eyes, alas just too late- the hairy beast, a Deathjump Spider, springs over the Hobgobins, and over the Knights; and almost to the stairs, blocking the Knights retreat; and then it has the audacity to take a chunk out of Astaroth and poison him for good measure.

The Knights realign their aim, all effects and attacks are turned inward for a moment, and at the end of it all, in ten seconds, the Deathjump Spider is destroyed- from there it goes easy, not one of the Hobgoblins escapes the Knights' fury.

[DM Interlude- damn Action Points, the Spider lasted a little more than one round.]





Enter the Spider.

[DM Interlude Encounter #26 [1120 XP = Level 4] 5x Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Grunts (Level 4 Minions); 4x Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Soldiers (Level 4 Soldiers) & Deathjump Spider (Level 5 Skirmisher).]

The guard room and associated chambers are mostly empty, a few gewgaws here and there, a scattering of coin, and that's it.

Exits to the south and east are located, the most travelled seems to be the one heading east; the Knights alas are starting to tire. Only three fights into the Keep but Immeral and Lucan are already low on Healing Surges, then again the young Rogue is only a neophyte at this adventuring lark (Lucan Rogue level 1).

They head south- damn them.

[DM Interlude- the Knights have made their way through the first level of the Keep's catacombs with only two encounters, this from a potential 12 encounters. Now, on level 2 of the Keep they are making their way, seemingly, directly to the finale of this adventure. I think I may have to put a stop to their game.]

So south it is and into a much larger chamber- empty and dilapidated, once again the Knights spread out and try to discern which of the two double doored exits is the least travelled. West it is, and along another corridor, they've not met any resistance for a good twenty minutes now. The passage turns south and ends in a decrepit pair of metal doors, both very badly corroded, barely hanging on their hinges.

Lucan levers one open and takes a look inside, the passage continues south and seems to open at a t-junction, not a sound...

The Knights head in and shuffle down to the t-junction- east or west; the east passage looks to be only short, ending a little ways off, it also sports a number of empty looking alcoves, the west passage turns quickly and continues south.

Lucan looks for advice, Cathal points south and grunts, the young elf nods and heads over, the rest of the Knights hold here.

Lucan has gone a little way south when something strikes him as odd- the floor is clean, really clean- as if it has been swept regularly, he shrugs his shoulders- strange, and heads on. The south passage seems to open up ahead into another larger chamber.

Meanwhile...

Back with the pack, and Astaroth is squinting hard- intent on something down the much shorter east passage. The big man is having trouble making out exactly what he sees - every now and then the air before him seems to glisten slightly, as if the light is being reflected back to him off some polished surface.

Astaroth is about to vocalise his thoughts, more than likely grunt and point, when Immeral and Antaurea spot the intruder- a large Gelatinous Cube is heading directly for man-mountain, that would account for the wink of the light.

The pair scream warnings and open up with Javelin and Bow, it gets violent and bloody (or jelly) very quickly.

And at the same time a pair of stinking shambling wrecks of men hove into Lucan's vision, he screams as the first creature rips a fleshy chunk from his body and hurls it at the frightened Rogue, a pair of Corruption Corpses.

It's all action.





More Jelly than even Astaroth can eat.

Astaroth takes a hunk out of the cube before he is immobilised, grabbed up and sucked into the foul creature's jellified body. Leaving the big lug aimlessly flailing with all his might stuck within the cube, not trying to escape- trying to attack, dazed and burning up, courtesy of the creature's acidic secretions. 

Cathal and Ignaran, with a little help from Wolfie and the odd arrow from Antaurea, manage to keep the cube from progressing on to engulf any more of the Knights.

Lucan and Immeral manage to bring the first Corruption Corpse down before it can do too much damage. Still at range, the second, already bloodied, shuffles forward into melee with the pair. Antaurea is helping out both fights, stood behind the Knights offering artillery cover in all directions.

Eventually the second Corruption Corpse is destroyed, it expires in a foetid burst which delivers yet more necrotic damage to Lucan.

Meanwhile the semi-subdued Gelatinous Cube is battered and bruised, more octagon than cube, it's lost corners in the fracas, and still Astaroth is caught within the creature, but not for long- the dashing Cathal plunges his hands within the beast and, with the big man's help, heaves him out. 

Astaroth's armour is scoured clean and worse, the acid has taken its toll.

All of the Knights focus their fire and fury on the cube, and soon enough the terrifying jelly comes to a quacking-farting halt, and slowly implodes, melting into puddling, squirming globules.

[DM Interlude Encounter #27 [900 XP = Level 3] Gelatinous Cube (Level 6 Elite Brute) & 2x Corruption Corpse (Level 5 Artillery).]

And with that the ninth session comes to a close, four combat encounters and a good deal of exploring, with some nice work from Lucan checking out the way ahead, not bad for a first level character. Alas however, Lucan is down to his last Healing Surge, and has already made use of one of  Cathal's Healing Potions.

The Knights gain 7313 XP to be shared between them, they just need to take an Extended Rest to reap the benefits.

Until next time...


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Entertaining as always Goonalan - I've read a few storyhours with KotS and it's interesting to see a slightly different spin.

Hope you can get the pictures sorted out though - reading the text is a pain at the moment.

And I have to ask - afte rthey'd lost the fight at the inn, were the thugs bitter? 

... sorry


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## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Entertaining as always Goonalan - I've read a few storyhours with KotS and it's interesting to see a slightly different spin.
> 
> Hope you can get the pictures sorted out though - reading the text is a pain at the moment.
> 
> And I have to ask - afte rthey'd lost the fight at the inn, were the thugs bitter?
> 
> ... sorry




Fixed it, well sort of- just go Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images.

Very Bitter, Browned off some of them, particularly the Lager than life thugs, although the Knights remained Mild throughout the fracas.

Bad joke overload, must go now...


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Heavy ...

Thanks for the thread tools tip - I can read in comfort again.


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## Richard Rawen

Fun Stuff! And kudos on re-routing your over-zealous group.
Few things suck as badly for a DM than feeling stuck between an almost certain End Boss Battle TPK - or hamstringing your own End Boss to avoid the TPK


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## Goonalan

Thanks for the comments.

For the best way to read this thread then go to-  Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images.

The Friday Knights

Session 10- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 4 Battling the Bloodreavers.

In play this week we have-
Antaurea, Eladrin Ranger Level 1 (Level 2 after an extended rest).
Astaroth, Human Fighter Level 3 
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 3 
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 2
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 2
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 1 (Level 2 after an extended rest).

Jack, who plays Lucan is late into the session, he misses the first fight.

[DM Interlude, as I said in the last report, the Knights have skipped a whole host of encounters here, and that makes me less than happy- therefore I have decided, well... just you see. Let's just say that the Knights introduction to the catacombs beneath the Keep has been noted, the Bloodreavers are on their trail.]

Having despatched the Gelatinous Cube and the Corruption Corpses the Knights check out their new abode, hopefully somewhere they can rest up for a while.

A pair of sarcophagi are discovered in the larger chamber to the south, wrenched open, smashed to the ground and then hammered and bashed into pieces, the Knights are not big on sarcophagi it seems. 

A door leads into another lonely room. Not much in here save an ancient looking chest which, with a little help from Lucan, delivers up the toys and mementos, Ignaran presumes, of the mad Sir Keegan's children. 

“Valuable” Lucan states and is met by glares, that's until one of the amulets found is discovered to be magical, a +1 Safewing Amulet, the Knights squabble for a while until Ignaran grabs hold of the precious find and makes it his.

Having searched and secured the place, and discovered there's only one possible entrance/exit, the Knights decide to bed down for an extended rest.

They're two hours into their rest when the Bloodreaver Patrol, possibly following the trail of blood and bodies the Knights have left in their wake, pay a visit.

Fortunately eagle-eyes Astaroth is on watch, which almost leads to the patrol getting a surprise attack on the sleeping Knights, Astaroth shouts warnings, and kicks awake his companions with only seconds to spare. 

Battle is quickly joined as the Knights scrabble for their weapons and rush to meet the Patrol. Hobgoblin Grunts dive into the thick of it, a pair of Hogoblin Soldiers form a shield wall behind them and move forward in unison. Behind the melee attackers are a pair of Hobgoblin Archers, and leading the Patrol, from the rear, 'Dread Tony' a Hobgoblin Warcaster. 

The Grunts are swiftly cut to pieces, that's their job. The Soldiers however are a different proposition, and yet they're all the Knights have to aim at. They therefore attract a considerable number of attacks- the Knights realise that the first job is to break the line, get the Fighters through to the less well armed missile wielding types beyond.

And this they do, with a surge and they're through, one Soldier dead, the other now cut off as the Astaroth and Cathal smash into the Hobgoblin Archers.

The Hobgoblin Patrol attempts a tactical retreat, which involves both Archers and the Warcaster fleeing into the previous, much larger chamber and resetting their positions, then letting loose with the artillery as soon as the Knights hove into view. The last Hobgoblin Soldier gives his life in attempt to slow the Knights down.





Your morning call Mr. Astaroth.

It's not enough, only one of the Hobgoblin Archers escapes with his life, fleeing north.  The Friday Knights however can't be bothered to continue their pursuit, they're tired, and much bruised and bloodied. They wait a while longer in the larger chamber, weapons and spells poised, just to see if anyone else is going to turn up.

[DM Interlude Encounter #28 [1051 XP = Level 5] 4x Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Grunt (Level 4 Minions); 2x Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Soldier (Level 4 Soldiers), 2x Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Archer (Level 4 Artillery) & Dread Tony, Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Warcaster (Level 4 Controller).]

The bodies are searched, and twenty minutes later the Knights retire, back into the former home of the Gelatinous Cube, save for Lucan (now he's here) who is next on watch. The young Rogue remains in the larger chamber, with orders to come and wake the other Friday Knights directly should anything else untoward take place.

They don't have long to wait, only ten minutes later Lucan comes running back to rouse them, more Goblins it seems. The Knights head out and are met in the larger chamber by...

The Bloodreavers, all of them, it must be all of them.

Ten Goblins spread out around the room- four Cutters, three Warriors and three Sharpshooters- all ready to rush the Knights; but that's not all.

It seems the management has deigned to pay a visit to the front line- Balgron the Fat, it must be a he, a corpulent Goblin with a club at his belt and a loaded crossbow pointing directly at Cathal.

To Balgron's side a huge Hobgoblin, Boggis the Torturer, brandishing a still glowing poker and clad in blood red leather armour.

Further back still is a familiar Kobold, the Wyrmpriest Pensacola, bane of the Knights. The Acid Orb flinging Kobold has a Guard Drake at his side, champing at the bit.

But most noticeable, for all the wrong reasons, is Sinruth- the mighty Goblin Bloodreaver General, he stands a little over three feet tall- admittedly he looks like pure fury, but there's not much of him to see. Sinruth gesticulates wildly and marks time behind the Goblin Warriors.

Then something strange happens, the Knights try to talk their way out of the fight.

[DM Interlude- caught me by surprise. All of the Knights are down to one or two Healing Surges left, Lucan has none, and he's injured still.]

Pensacola, the Kobold Wyrmpriest, does the talking for the Bloodreavers, alas it's mostly threats- the Knights are abruptly told to either surrender or try to fight their way out, which of course will result in their certain death.

Even when Cathal and Ignaran attempt to persuade the Bloodreavers that the Knights wish only to head on - to destroy Kalarel and prevent the rift from opening, and then go on to describe the hordes of undead that are set to spill from the aforementioned dark portal... Even then.

While Pensacola is convinced, the same cannot be said for Balgron, Boggis and Sinruth- the bubble bursts and Sinruth leads the charge.





The Bloodreavers, including management.

The Goblin Cutters are killed in the opening furious flurry, the Goblin Warriors however hold the line and manage to get a few hits in- Sinruth is straight into the mix with Boggis. In the opening exchanges Astaroth, Lucan and Cathal all take wounds, which for Lucan is really not a good thing.

Then the Goblin Sharpshooters, Balgron and Pensacola open fire- result the same three Knights mentioned above are bloodied, and the fight has only just begun.

[DM Interlude- Lucan is down to 3 HP already.]

Immeral drops back and provides what healing he can. 

[DM Interlude- and then all action points and remaining dailies get spent.]

Astaroth's Boundless Endurance kicks in, he starts to regenerate, Sinruth feels the effect of his Villains Menace, and soon the tiny Goblin Chieftain is having to give ground, and is bleeding profusely from a myriad wounds.

Antaurea Fey Steps to a safer position and then unleashes the artillery, Twin Strike followed by Two Fanged Strike, followed by more Twin Strikes- culminating in a Hunter's Bear Trap on Boggis.  The Hobgoblin Torturer is brought to his knees and then swiftly killed.

Cathal clears the way with a Sweeping Strike, uses his Healing Word- 'by the power of Kord etc.' to heal himself, and then puts up his Shielding Sides and drifts into the thick of it- slaying Goblin Warriors left, right and centre.

Ignaran conjures Wolfie and sends him into the mix, then settles a swarm of Blinding Bats into the midst of the Goblin mass- even Sinruth is caught up in the effect.

Immeral, as previously stated, continues to use all of his skills to heal the Knights before they fall, that and launching his deadly javelin attacks.

Lucan stays as far back as he can, content to throw his magical dagger again, and again, and again. Remember he's only 1st Level and without Healing Surges, and very bloodied... He tries to remain as anonymous as possible.

The Knights battle hard and soon enough break the line- Pensacola, the Kobold Wyrmpriest, is the first to flee, abandoning the rest of the Bloodreaver management to their fate.

Balgron, already bloodied, is the next to depart, then one, then another of the archers, although the last of them to flee is cut down as Antaurea looses yet another Twin Strike.

Moments later it's just Sinruth and one Goblin Warrior left standing, and a little later there are none... Sinruth is dead.

[DM Interlude Encounter #29 [2424 XP = Level 9] 4x Goblin Cutters (Level 2 Minions); 3x Goblin Warriors (Level 2 Soldiers); 3x Goblin Sharpshooters (Level 3 Artillery); Guardian Drake (Level 3 Brute); Pensacola, Kobold Wyrmpriest (Level 5 Artillery); Boggis, Hobgoblin Torturer (Level 4 Brute); Balgron the Fat, Goblin Chieftain (Level 5 Lurker) & Sinruth, Goblin War Chief (Level 3 Solo Soldier). Which is quite a lot of XP you'd have to agree, and yet... Another titanic fracas which could have gone either way, save for some well timed dailies and Immeral's Healing Admixture.]

[DM Interlude- Immeral and Ignaran now have enough XP to reach level 3 after their next extended rest- which, at long last, is not too far away.]

The Knights decide against retreat to the Gelatinous Cube chamber this time, it's brought nothing but bad luck so far. Instead they opt to hold the chamber they are in, an extended rest is called for, guards doubled- and the Knights snooze. This after the assorted dead are thoroughly searched- Boggis has a suit of +1 Bloodcut Leather armour, which Lucan takes; while Sinruth has an Ironskin Belt which Astaroth lays claim to; there's plenty of gold to be had too.

The extended rest is complete, and at last without further interruptions.

[DM Interlude- only six encounters before the extended rest is taken, but what encounters; particularly the finale. In truth, Lucan did very well to stay out of trouble, or rather the other Knights made every effort to keep him safe. Rest assured I attempted to target him, but he had positioned himself behind two, and more often three, of his companions- it didn't seem fair to keep on trying, particularly as the bloodied fighters in the front row (Astaroth and Cathal) were much more of a menace to the Bloodreavers.]

Fully rested, the Knights head south, through another pair of metal doors, and into a huge chamber. In the centre of which is a massive statue, a warrior in platemail armour wielding a great axe, Lucan's spider senses instantly begin to tingle, either that or his sinuses are playing up. 

Also in the chamber are a pair of large statues, drakes or dragons, poised to attack.

Lucan creeps in, and absolutely to form, the monstrous statue awakes, begins slashing its axe around in a furious arc. But not fast enough, Lucan leaps aboard the great contraption, clambers up the thing and quickly discovers a control plate, gets it open and delves inside- into the guts of the machine cum trap; all the while of course hanging on as the statue pivots and gyrates.

It takes a while, but eventually the statue grinds to a halt- the rest of the Knights venture in.

Next stop the dragon statues.

Lucan goes to take a look but is sent tumbling back; a blast of air from the nearest dragon statue's mouth forces him to retreat at haste.

The Knights pull back some more, take aim, and unleash all they have at one and then the other statue, the result being both dragon statues are destroyed.





Lucan is head and shoulders above the other Knights.

The Knights head to the southern exit, there are four cherubic statues forming a square before an ancient looking pair of double doors.  Lucan is not amused, and less amused when he steps closer to have a look, a forcefield suddenly appears behind him, splitting him off from the other Knights.

Which is bad enough, but then the enclosed area, Lucan still within, begins to fill with water- spewing from the cherub statues' mouths. Lucan gets to work, while the Fighters smash at one of the cherubs, Immeral uses his arcane knowledge to attempt to investigate yet another of the statues in an attempt to bring the forcefield down.

The cumulative effect is enough, two of the stone cherubs are destroyed, the forcefield collapses, and Lucan spills out surfing a foetid tide- wet and cold but otherwise unharmed.

The Knights take a short, well-deserved, rest and then head on again, to the southern portals.

Lucan, still full of confidence, squeezes into the chamber beyond, takes a quick peek and then squeezes back- a little excited and out of breath, but grinning- “Zombies”, he whispers and rubs his hands together in glee.

The Knights grin a bit themselves and then head on in- in a rush. The opening charge sees a good half-dozen Zombie Rotters trashed, smashed, burnt to crisps and in general made to see the error of their wanton undead ways.

However the Rotters, there are over a dozen of them at the start of the fracas, summon reinforcements, ostensibly by moaning very loudly- a pair of Zombie (non-Minions) shamble forward. While at the back of the pack a slavering Ghoul dodges in and out of the shambling horde in an attempt to get to the succulent, fleshy Knights.

Which just leaves one other enemy unaccounted for, the Flesh Prince, a Clay Scout. The winged homunculus watches from afar for a while, firing off a Mind Touch power to daze Astaroth, it's a wonder it had any effect- Astaroth is to all intents and purposes a mindless killing machine.

The odds shorten, dramatically, in less than thirty seconds- the Zombie Rotters are all gone, the other Zombies are looking, well... shambolic, which suits their look. The Ghoul, while having some success, clawing and immobilising Cathal, then for good measure biting a large chunk out of the warrior of Kord, and stunning him in the process... well, the Ghoul's bloodied already and only just hanging on to unlife.

The Flesh Prince scarpers, that is flaps off, through an open set of double doors to the east of the foul-some chamber.

The other inhabitants, including the Ghoul, are soon accounted for- Cathal needs healing but the other Knights have barely broken a sweat, it's a tough life this Defender malarkey.





The Knights latest undeadly enemy.

[DM Interlude Encounter #30 [1272 XP = Level 5] 13x Zombie Rotter (Level 4 Minions); 2x Zombie (Level 3 Brute); Flesh Prince, Clay Scout (Level 3 Lurker) & Ghoul (Level 6 Skirmisher).]

The Knights rest up a while, have a nose about the chamber, Lucan discovers a hole in a wall, beyond a very narrow passage; he squeezes in and discovers... nothing, and a dead Dwarf- he ignores the Dwarf and concentrates on the nothing. 

Nothing, that is, except a sack seemingly larger (more voluminous) on the inside than it is on the outside, yeah, a Bag of Holding, containing 176 gold coins.

The dead Dwarf turns out not be dead, only unconscious- after Lucan robs him, he wakes him.

“Nah! Nuthin'! Only 'nuther bloody Dwarf.” Lucan returns to the rest of the Knights affecting his finest peeved expression, the little liar.

Welcome to Farkill, the newest member of the Knights, Farkill is played by Zoran who is Skyping in from Serbia. Farkill is a Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 1, a wayward soul, a wannabe adventurer who wandered into the Keep two days ago after being attacked by Bloodreavers looking for more Slaves. He escaped his attackers and somehow made his way here, to this chamber, almost entirely unharmed, apart from his earlier beating (yeah, unbelievable I know but it's our narrative). 

The Knights rejoice a while- they've found a Cleric, and in five minutes flat are firm friends. Farkill heals himself and is ready for the fray, only all his money seems to have disappeared- funny that.

Lucan grins some more.

The room, from Farkill's point of view, spins for a second, voices, voices in the his head- the screams and cries of the innocent, a warning, a sign... Farkill, in a gruff voice, chunters “onwards”, waves his executioner's axe about and points to the doors through which the Flesh Prince earlier departed. 

Cathal leads the Knights off down a great long (and very dark) stair.

Into the Cathedral of Shadows.

Actually into the ante-chamber of the Cathedral of Shadows, Lucan gulps once and then switches over to scouting mode, he disappears into the darkness and shadow. 

He's gone a good five minutes, and in all that time doesn't roll anything less than a 25 for his stealth checks, he silently circumnavigates the great and deadly chamber.

Crimson trails of blood lead into the central area of the vaulted cathedral, the blood spills through a grate in the floor- a deep dark shadowy hole. Crystal columns illuminate a robed man at a dais in the northern part of the chamber- incanting and chanting, calling upon Orcus, the Demon Lord of Undeath.

There are several other unsavoury looking creatures dotted about- waiting, Lucan takes note and returns to tell the others.





Lucan, stealth fighter (actually Rogue).

And there endeth the 10th session of play, the Knights gain 8843 XP, till next time...


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## Pedestrian

Just wanted to pop in and give another cheer for your story hour Goonalan. I really do love your style.

Have you been having the PCs advance at different rates? How are you finding that?


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## Goonalan

Actually we (that's me) decided that new characters should start at one level below the lowest level character already in play, don't ask me how or why I dreamt that one up. We've stuck to it so far although I sometimes have to even things out in other ways, i.e. give the new guy a little boost as regards equipment- but never abything too higher level.

So at the moment, we played session 42 last week (I think), there are six PCs in play (I wont say who they are) and the spread is level 7-9. In truth there's only one level 9 character, and only one level 7 character- the other four are level 8. 

The issue is with the level 7 guy missing quite often in combat, and he's a striker, however after discussion that seems to be more to do with the leap forward that comes at level 8, by which I mean-

Our level 7 guy when he gets to level 8 will get a +1 To Hit for the even numbered level, a further +1 To Hit after he's added on his 2 new stat points, and yet another +1 To Hit if he takes the Feat he's been looking at.

Level 8 is a monster, a number of the characters have improved their To Hit chances by +3.

As to the other skills, stats et al; there doesn't seem to be any massive difference. This is all made a lot easier to use by my patented XP award system. So in the case above-

XP needed to get from Level 6 to 7 = 17,000
Level 7 to 8 = 24,000
Level 8 to 9 = 31,000
Level 9 to 10 = Unknown (I tell the player when he gets close to leveling)

It's not (previous level XP+7,000 ) for all level advancement- it just is for the levels in the example.

So in the last session (42) the six characters clocked up something like 32,000 XP shared equally between them, the level 7 guy will be level 8 well before the level 9 guy will be level 10- as they go up levels they bunch together (provided all players turn up to the session). I have predicted (and I'm usually quite accurate) that by level 11 or 12 (if they all turn up every game) then they'll all be on the same level.

Thanks for taking an interest, in some ways I prefer the present format, if only because it gives me a chance to catch up with the action, having said that I am have only written up to session 15 so far. The later sessions are... fantastic, and I know that's me saying that but the game is progressing amazingly well- the plot is shaping up nicely and H1-H3 is proving to be whole lot more Heroic than anything Wizards could have dreamt of.

Particularly with the little side treks that the players are getting dragged into- I really want to give it away and tell you what's going on... but I can't, I really can't.

Damn it.

Thanks again for reading.


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## Goonalan

For the best way to read this thread then go to- Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images.

The Friday Knights

Session 11- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 5

In play this week we have-
Antaurea, Eladrin Ranger Level 2
Astaroth, Human Fighter Level 3 
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 3 
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 1
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 3
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 3
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 2

Seven PCs, that's too many- we'll sacrifice some along the way, particularly as two of the players are doubling up- Simon with Cathal and Immeral; Mike with Antaurea and Ignaran. However nobody wanted to back down for the final fight, particularly after the fracas earlier with the Bloodreavers. I think they see me as a cruel DM out to push them to their limits, in truth the series of encounters after they entered the Keep's catacombs were extremely difficult, especially for the lower level characters- but also heavy on the Defenders too, racing through their Healing Surges. Zoran, who plays Farkill, is a godsend- Immeral couldn't keep up with the damage being dished out to the Knights in the previous battles. 

So we'll be dropping a few of the secondary characters as soon as we're able.

Now back to the action.

The Cathedral of Shadow has been fully investigated by Lucan, all of the enemies except the Dark Creeper, RumpledSplitSkin, had been spotted prior to the Knights' charge into the fray, and that's the tactic they know best- with Cathal and Astaroth in the front row the Knights rumble into the fight.

The stout defenders charge into the Human Barbarians and instantly make their mark, which draws out all manner of creatures- actually mostly Vampire Spawn, who menacingly glide to attack.

The fact that they are minions is soon divined, much to the chagrin of the players, Cathal cleaves through two of them with a swat of his mighty longsword.

There follows a concerted effort by all of the Knights and moments later there are only the Berserkers, one of whom is badly bloodied, the Flesh Prince who has yet to hit anything and Fat Ralph, the Orcus Underpriest- who has yet to miss. 

The Underpriest gets up close quickly, buffs one of the Berserkers with his Infuse With Shadow power; hits Farkill with a Shadow Curse- welcome to the Knights, and then goes mental with his Mace as he's dragged into the slugfest.

And just when the Knights think they're really winning, with only Cathal and Astaroth bloodied, RumpledSplitSkin, the Dark Creeper appears and plants his dagger in Ignaran's back.

It's not enough however...

[DM Interlude- will it ever be enough I ask myself, kidding- loving it as usual.]

Soon after, the bad guys are biting the dirt with alarming regulatory, the Human Berserkers fall, the Dark Creeper keeps taking bow shots, and Lucan has moved behind Fat Ralph - which usually means the bell is about to ring to signal the end of the fight.

The Flesh Prince, the Clay Scout who has been pestering the Knights for a while now, takes the opportunity to, in the idiom of the streets (here in the UK), 'do one.' He heads below, down the bloody hole in the centre of the chamber.

And so it goes, and so it goes...

The Cathedral of Shadows, briefly illuminated by the Friday Knight experience.

[DM Interlude Encounter #31 [1315 XP = Level 4] Vampire Spawn x5 (Level 6 Minions); Flesh Prince, Clay Scout (Level 3 Lurker); Dark Creeper (Level 5 Skirmisher); Human Berserker x2 (Level 5 Brutes) & Fat Ralph, Underpriest of Orcus (Level 6 Controller)]

[DM Interlude- Antaurea now has enough XP to advance to level 3, all he needs is an extended rest.]

The Knights search the dead and find little of value, Farkill has made a friend in Astaroth- the pair take out their frustrations (whatever they may be) on the statue of Orcus in the chamber, and the altar- they smash the place up.

The blood however continues to flow- which is extremely off putting.

Eventually the Knights congregate around the bloody hole, there are chains leading down into the abyss below, and lights down there.

“Follow that Clay Scout.” Cathal declares. There follows a scrambled descent of the chains, all the more miraculous because none of the Knights, save one- Astaroth, the big lug, make the descent without injury and in good time. It's a shame, then, that their climb leaves them standing knee deep in a massive trough of blood.

“My armour!” Cathal declares, chews on his 'tache a moment and then launches himself at the nearest enemy, a flailing tentacled monster, a Dolgaunt Warrior.

The chamber the Knights find themselves in is huge, to the south is an altar affair guarded by a cowled figure, which is initially identified as the end-of-level-bad-guy; alas the shy creature turns out to be 'the Stig', a Deathlock Wight, still he's pleased of the company.

To the east is a great portal, that is to say a stone arch of ancient construction, captured within it's window an inky black screen which shapes and bulges, as if something terrible were trying to break through its fragile skin. Before the portal a great magical circle which fizzes and spits with raw power.

To the west another huge statue of Orcus, the Lord of Undeath; Farkill pulls Astaroth from his bloody bath and nods towards it- the pair lick their lips (metaphorically you understand).

To the north is another altar, at which Kalarel stands- ah here's the end-of-level-bad-guy; a cowled and robed man, subterranean white skin and bulging eyes, he's no looker. The fell Scion of Orcus points a skull-topped rod at the Knights and declares- “my master awaits your embrace...”

And it kicks off.

Naturally there are quite a few bodies preventing the Knights getting straight to Kalarel, including a pair of flailing Dolgaunt Warriors, also a pair of heavily armed and armoured Skeleton Warriors and the Flesh Prince, yep he's back, and about to make his stand for homunculi everywhere.

Cathal forgets what he's doing, dazed - courtesy of the Flesh Prince's dark powers. Which more than makes up for the fact that the Dolgaunt Warriors seem not to be able to hit a barn door from a yard away- they flail ineffectively right through to their inevitable demise.

The Skeleton Warriors are much better equipped however. Soon Cathal, Astaroth and Farkill are bloodied. Immeral is consigned to healing duties once again; Ignaran is having a very tough time with 'the Stig', and is soon after bloodied also; Lucan is just staying out of the way as much as he can- content to fling daggers into the fray with only limited success.

The Knights' situation goes from bad to worse when Kalarel's Decaying Rays start to hit the defenders, leaving them weakened and only able to dish up half damage, when they do manage to connect.

[DM Interlude- it looks like I've got them, the Dolgaunts are not making a difference, but the Knights are missing a lot, and getting worn down quickly.]

Farkill has to back out of the fight, badly in need of more healing, he finds a safe-ish spot and concentrates his efforts on healing the others and failing to hit with his ranged Divine effects.

[DM Interlude- Farkill failing to hit things will become one of the most prominent themes of this saga, when the going gets tough Farkill's dice are almost always found wanting- never in my life have I witnessed a player roll so many natural 4's. Uncanny.]

And what turns it is this- Ignaran and Immarel take down 'the Stig', alas not some titanic assault rather a war of attrition, death by a thousand paper cuts, that's not to say it's anti-climactic, for a long moment the Knights' struggle has gripped the undefined on-line confines of our collective imagination, er... where to go with that statement.

'The Stig' falls, his last words a plea for forgiveness- “I'll see you in hell, I'll be the one gnawing on your spleen!” directed at Lucan, who delivers the final blow- from a safe distance you understand. At least I think it was a plea for forgiveness.

Which frees up the artillery nicely, less than thirty seconds later the Dolgaunt Warriors have packed their tentacles up and shuffled off this mortal coil, the Skeleton Warriors soon after go the same way.

A brief game of cat-and-mouse with Immeral, Ignaran and the Clay Scout plays out- brief and  bloody- and most of all one-sided. The Flesh Prince meets his unmaker.

Which just leaves the babbling Scion of Orcus- Kalarel.

It looks like it's going to be a lopsided affair- one versus seven.

And so it proves.

Briefly.

Tentacles are so in this season.

Kalarel is quickly bloodied, and the Knights' collective grimaces have turned into grins.

However...

Kalarel blinks out of existence and reappears within the confines of the magic circle, worse, the black sheen behind him finally breaks, sends shards of shadowfell crafted black glass shattering into the chamber, and from the inky madness emerges a riot of lunging, lashing tentacles.

The Shadow Portal is open.

I think Astaroth best sums up the mood- “naughty word!”, he exclaims, with gusto.

And thus the tension is cranked up again.

[DM Interlude- I should have known.]

Cathal leads the charge, it's one-for-all-and-all-for-one, or so it seems- every one of the Knights unleash whatever manner of fury they have not as yet spent, and Kalarel lasts a little more than ten seconds.

[DM Interlude- bugger!]

The tentacled monstrosity dances forward, grabs the corpse of the Scion of Orcus by its feet and drags Kalarel back into the shadow...

Cathal, Ignaran, Immeral and Farkill begin to intone; words of faith and arcana- the portal slowly knits back together, the black sheen returns to the space beneath the arch, the inky black shards of shadowfell skitter and scuttle back the way they came into their inky-hell.

The Shadow Portal is closed.

[DM Interlude- I wish it'd make up its bloody mind!]

[DM Interlude Encounter #32 [2325XP = Level 7] The Flesh Prince, Clay Scout (Level 3 Lurker); Dolgaunt Warrior x2 (Level 3 Soldiers); Skeleton Warriors x3 (Level 4 Soldiers); Stig, Deathlock Wight (Level 5 Controller); Skill Challenge- Close the Shadow Rift (Level 4 Elite) & Kalarel, Scion of Orcus (Level 9 Elite Controller). Titanic, and for a good while I thought I had the Knights, at last, foolish.]

[DM Interlude- Farkill now has enough XP to advance to level 2, all he needs is an extended rest.]

The Knights rest, just after Ignaran gathers up the discarded Rod of Ruin. 

Alas their rest is not without incident, a collective dream, a waking dream- pieced together later.

A vision.

A cloaked Tiefling.

An army of demons pouring into and across the Nentir Vale, blood-letting on an apocalyptic scale.

The same Tiefling, swathed in Shadow, entering a green-hued portal, seen through the portal a dense and lush jungle, the Tiefling is leading the demon army.

The Rod of Ruin clutched in the Tiefling's hand- pointing the way.

The demon army fighting... and losing, the jungle is the Feywild, the defenders of the place Eladrin, thousands of Eladrin- fighting for their homeland.

The demon army withdrawing, a tenth of its original size, retreating- back through the portal.

The shadow.

Like floating at the edge of black.

Like floating at the edge of the end.

The end of everything.

Then a flicker, a single image, the same Tiefling seen earlier standing atop a great stepped stone pyramid, the Tiefling's robes fluttering in the winds, its eyes...

Then nothing.

The vision ends.

Rested, the Knights eye each other suspiciously, Cathal breaks the spell and tells the others what he has seen, the others nod, and add detail, for they have seen it too.

Confidence grows, the Knights eat and then go about their business, Kalarel it seems was not alone in his efforts to open the portal, he has orders, orders from someone calling themselves 'the Bringer of Change.'

He's one to look out for, clearly.

The orders are very chatty, and go a little like this-

“Greetings Kalarel,

I am happy to hear that your plan is progressing well in Winterhaven. I approve of your suggested change in the Ritual of Unbinding, I think you are on the right track. The Nerath seal will soon be broken and our dark Lord's hordes will yet again stalk the lands of the living. Keep an eye on the Bloodreavers, they have started to ask questions. If you require further assistance you have only to ask.

The Bringer of Change.”

As I say- chatty. It seems the ultimate evil have been working on their 'Investors in People' status.

More treasures are located, a good deal of gold and a magical +2 dagger- which Lucan lays claim to.

The statue of Orcus you ask, and you really need not, presume the worst for statues from here on in. Skilled craftsmen may have toiled for millennia but that don't mean  when you have a big hammer and/or axe, preferably both, and two ignorant lugs to wield them.

Astaroth and his buddy Farkill set to work.

Everything is smashed.

Don't ask... everything.

Eventually the Knights leave the rubble strewn chamber and head up back into the lower catacombs of the Keep, back through the chamber previously packed with the shambling undead, through the chamber with the trapped statue, and straight back into the clutches of the Bloodreavers, who have prepared a suitable reception.

The fight gets bloody very quickly.

The Knights are outnumbered, particularly as the decision is taken on exiting the Shadow Portal chamber to abandon Antaurea and Immeral for the remainder of the session.

[DM Interlude- and yet I still decided to throw the full weight of the next encounter at the reduced Knights, meh. I have a black heart, it matches my soul rest assured.]

The bad guys form a queue, or at least that's how it seems.

Back in the Lower Guardroom there are nine Hobgoblin Grunts, five heavily armed Hobgoblin Soldiers; two Hobgoblin Archers;  a Hobgoblin Warcaster; Balgron, the Goblin Chieftain; Pensacola, Kobold Wyrmpriest (remember him) and Tra'ak, an enormous Hobgoblin Warchief- who leads the horde.

As usual the Grunts are cut down like chaff, although with their shields locked in defence they still need well aimed blows to take them down. The Soldiers and the Archers take a beating, the Warcaster is hit enough for him to retreat.

Balgron the Fat is targeted for some serious abuse, and is swiftly killed- he was still much injured from his previous encounters with the Knights. Pensacola too is badly injured, and flees, again.

The Knights are winning the day. Still, this is only their first encounter after their extended rest down in the portal chamber.

[DM Interlude- note I had a plan here, it sometimes helps. I wanted the fight to be as difficult as possible and to generate the required emotions- see below for how it all turns out, which is pretty much what I wanted to happen.]

Eventually someone sees sense, the someone being Tra'ak the scimtar wielding Bloodreaver Chieftain- he calls for parley, and in an enlightened moment the Knights agree. There are still a lot of bad guys standing, only the Grunts and Balgron have fallen, and they're taking plenty of hits.

It seems Tra'ak just wants to be off- away from the Keep, to lead his Bloodreavers elsewhere, there follows much chin scratching and moral questing- do the Knights let the Bloodreavers go? Lucan couldn't give a damn, he's all for the easy life... The chatter goes on for some time, no threats just heaps of suspicion from the Knights.

[DM Interlude Encounter #33 [2596XP = Level 10] Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Grunt x9 (Level 4 Minions); Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Soldiers x5 (Level 4 Soldiers), Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Archer x2 (Level 4 Artillery); Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Warcaster (Level 4 Controller);  Balgron the Fat, Goblin Chieftain (Level 5 Lurker); Pensacola, Kobold Wyrmpriest (Level 5 Artillery) & Tra'ak Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Warchief (Level 5 Elite Soldier)]





Bloodreavers Party on Dudes!

Eventually Astaroth comes up with a mature and sensible compromise. I know, I was surprised too.

It goes a little like this- he will fight Tra'ak single-handedly, if he wins Tra'ak will surrender; if he loses Tra'ak and his Bloodreavers will be allowed to leave unmolested. The rules are agreed and the fracas kicks off.

It's a massacre.

Astaroth is reduced to a bloody mess by the Hobgoblin Bloodreaver leader in a matter of seconds (I'd say approx five rounds). Farkill has to scuttle to the fallen Astaroth and administer emergency healing, so bloodied and battered is the man-mountain.

Tra'ak grunts a while, barely wounded, grins a little and points his scimitar at the other Knights, declares 'next time', and leads the Bloodreavers off.

Leaving the Knights, and in particular Astaroth, to lick their wounds.

[DM Interlude Encounter #33 [800XP = Level 13] Tra'ak Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Warchief (Level 5 Elite Soldier)]





Astaroth takes a kicking- he never stood a chance!

The Knights, somewhat subdued, take to wandering the halls; discover any number of deserted chambers abandoned by the Bloodreavers, all empty, at least of treasures and clues.  Rather forlornly, and in silence, they mount the stairs and head back up to the first level of the dungeons.

And so endeth the eleventh session of the Friday Knights adventures, with 9609 XP gained.

More next time...


----------



## Goonalan

For the best way to read this thread then go to- Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images.

The Friday Knights

Session 12- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 6

In play this week we have-
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 3 
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 3
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 2

Only three Knights present initially, it goes from feast to famine player-wise remarkably quickly. Still, those present decide to spend the session clearing out the unvisited chambers of the Keep's Catacombs, see if there are any further clues left by the Bloodreavers. Also they're still in search of the good citizens of Fallcrest and Winterhaven that have been 'disappeared'.

Note Farkill will be joining us later in the session.

And so the Knights climb the stairs into a chamber they had previously cleared of Zombies, and what do you know, they're back- or at least a fresh bunch of the shambling dead have been drawn back to the area.

Lucan and Cathal dive into the the pack, yep you read that right- Lucan, needs must. The young Rogue proves remarkably adept, particularly as Ignaran is thinning the Zombie Horde with bursts and blasts, also - for the most - part the Zombies are Rotters, that is to say Minions.

The two much better equipped Zombie Soldiers take a while to beat down, during which they manage to inflict a few nasty wounds, particularly to the Rogue. Nevertheless the outcome is never in doubt- the chamber is retaken.

[DM Interlude Encounter #35 [642 XP = Level 5] Zombie Rotter x8 (Level 4 Minions) & Zombie x2 (Level 3 Soldier)]

[DM Interlude- Cathal has enough XP to advance to level 4, Lucan has enough XP to advance to level 3; after an extended rest of course.]





Hijinks with the Undead.

The Knights head through the maze of chambers. They've been here previously; this time however their journey is far easier as the myriad Arcane Sigils have lost their power- deactivated with the destruction of the portal possibly.

They make their way into another set of catacombs, a long corridor leading to a hazily illuminated area with what looks to be a pair of ancient altars, and a pair of large metal doors leading further on. The problem is, however, the corridor is crowded with upright sarcophagi- leaning against the walls.

Cathal primes the fight, guesses what's going to come next, and yet...

Lucan shimmies forward in search of traps and inadvertently trips the switch- the sarcophagi are flung open, and stepping out of the star swirl within come a horde of skeletons, fortunately mostly of the Decrepit variety, although a pair of Skeleton Warriors slow the Knights down a little. 

Once again the battle is concluded fairly swiftly- Cathal tends to destroy two of the Decrepit creatures every round, Lucan one and Ignaran at least one- like a knife through butter they batter the Undead guardians down.

[DM Interlude Encounter #36 [598 XP = Level 4] Skeleton Decrepit x8 (Level 2 Minions) & Skeleton Warrior x2 (Level 4 Soldier)]





Like a Radiant knife through Undead butter.

It's at this point, after a little scouting around, that the Knights determine that the chamber is, or was, dedicated to Bahamut- this confirmed by the dragon-carved stone altar pieces discovered, and looted.

Cathal speculates that they may be approaching the last resting place of Sir Keegan, the mad Paladin of Bahamut that turned traitor and slew his family here a century or more ago.

The great metal doors, carved with further renderings of Bahamut are forgotten for a moment, one of the walls has been breached elsewhere in the chamber, there's a crypt beyond- cautiously the Knights take a look inside.

The newly discovered chamber holds some minor treasures- mostly money and gems, otherwise it's empty.

[DM Interlude- I had placed a horde of Zombies here, but brought them out earlier to greet the Knights as the ascended the stairs from the lower level.]





An empty chamber yesterday.

The Knights press on, now bolstered by Farkill, Cleric of Moradin, who has just joined the party via Skype; into a small but undisturbed chamber.  At the far side, bathed in a spectral light, a raised section with a great sarcophagi on it.

From the spectral light a shimmering Knight steps forward, its flesh-picked-clean skull visage plain for all to see, it's Sir Keegan.

He waves around his longsword in a menacing fashion and growls- 

“The rift must never be re-opened!”

Which is met by smirks.

Sir Keegan follows up with-

“State your business or prepare to die!”

He rasps, exuding as much menace as he possibly can.

“Done” Lucan states and turns tail and leaves the chamber, leaving Ignaran, Cathal and Farkill to explain to the now gawping Sir Keegan that Kalarel has been bested and slain; the portal has been destroyed and the Knights are just know going about their business clearing out the last of the infestation in the Keep's catacombs.

“Oh.” Sir Keegan rasps, and then stops the rasping, it's hurting his throat.

The Knight shrugs, looks a little embarrassed at the turn of events.

“You should have come here earlier...” He mutters, and kicks at some loose chippings on the floor.

The silence elongates, stretches into oblivion, eventually Cathal breaks it-

“Anything else?”

Sir Keegan shakes his head, shrugs some more, then hands over his longsword, which is clearly magical, to Cathal- and disappears forever.

His last words-

“That didn't go... Bugger!”





An embarrassed Sir Keegan scratches his backside.

The Knights head off again- manage to locate a large and abandoned guard chamber, and from there the bed chamber of Balgron the Fat, soon after his strongbox is found- sprung, and emptied.

By Lucan, who manages to pouch most of the money before the other Knights discern that they are, even now, being robbed.

[DM Interlude- Lucan is a very naughty boy, more of this kind of despicable behaviour to come, rest assured.]





Lucan locates a few copper coins- slim pickings alas.

Lucan kicks over Balgron's empty treasure chest and sighs audibly, winning an Oscar in the process. His Bag of Holding bulges with all the gold he has just scooped into it.

The Knights continue their wandering and eventually find themselves in a torture chamber, complete with rack and cooling brazier, and with the standard issue hot poker set.

Lucan's eyes light up, he rubs his hands in glee, and plays a while.

Ignaran in the meantime has discovered a forlorn Goblin in a cell, obviously a prisoner.

The Goblin is Splug. His crime - not getting on with Balgron, falling asleep on guard duty, and worst of all- being a revolutionary member of the a secret Goblin politcal organisation intent on overthrowing their bourgeoisie leaders, returning the means of destruction into the hands of the proletariat. 

Which is unexpected.

Splug begins his spiel, punctuating it with fist clenching sound bites extolling the virtues of the working classes and the need for constant revolution...

Which translates to-

“Eat the rich!”

“Kill the imperialist lackeys of the bourgeoisie.”

“We must establish unity of action in all sections of the working class in the struggle against Hobgoblin fascism.”





The Glorious Goblin People's Revolutionary Guard (singular).

“Moradin, I can see why they locked him up.” Farkill states.

There follows a vote on the proposition- should Splug be released?

It's tied four times; two-two.

Splug attempts to persuade the Knights to release him with honeyed words, while continuing to offer encouragement.

“Democracy in action, free assembly and the right to take part in the decision making process, the most effective and reasoned activity- I applaud you comrades. Your actions define your virtue, I will respect any decision that you make, such is my faith in the justice of the glorious revolution. I will not attempt to sway you in any way- look to your hearts, I've always attested that adventurers, along with the workers- of course, are the bedrock of society- equal opportunity slayers. I admire you brothers with your fervent and dogmatic approach to the trials and tribulations of the commercial consumerist capitalist society in which we live.”

After the fourth tied vote he adds.

“I know where Tra'ak and the other Bloodreavers have gone, if that helps?”

Splug is released and welcomed, temporarily, into the Knights.

[DM Interlude- Splug is a Goblin Paladin of the Glorious Revolution Level 1. We now have five Knights in play this evening.]

It turns out Tra'ak is on his way back to a place called Thunderspire Labyrinth, which makes the Knights grin, next stop there, perhaps...

Splug tags along as the Knights venture back into the catacombs and discover...





It would have been nice to have had a fight here...

Yet another empty chamber which has been dug out, excavated- in search of what? The Knights have no clue, however they do find a nice Holy Symbol dedicated to Bahamut in their search of the spoil piles. Farkill takes this for later use, after it has been re-dedicated to Moradin.

The Knights head off again.

And discover a set of stairs leading into a natural cavern, they venture into the unlit chamber- and into a tide of Giant Rats, they begin cutting a swathe through the chittering creatures when a blob of Ochre Jelly drops from the cavern ceiling, just missing Cathal, and begins to wave it's pseudopod furiously.

The Knights, and Splug, attack- although for attack read chant helpful slogans concerning the 'constant struggle for enlightenment and reason' if you're Splug.

The Ochre Jelly is eventually destroyed- split clean in two.

It's a little disconcerting then a few moments later when the two blobs of Ochre Jelly spring back into action, of a fashion, and take up their tentacle waving again.

[DM Interlude- that made them think.]

Alas the fight is soon over the second time around, although Lucan has taken some serious injuries and Ignaran and Cathal are also very bloodied.





Binary Fission- show and tell!

[DM Interlude Encounter #37 [753 XP = Level 3] Giant Rat x13 (Level 2 Minion) & Ochre Jelly (Level 4 Elite Brute)]

Then the Knights make a discovery - in the central column supporting the cavern chamber - a secret door, and within a withered and dessicated... hang on he's still alive- the first of the lost citizens, Clem Statto is ministered to by Farkill. Thirty minutes later the man is up and talking.

He has quite a story to tell, the Bloodreavers are behind the whole operation, the slaves were being brought to the Shadowfell Keep en route to somewhere else.  Many of the slaves were used to excavate a chamber to the north of here, in search of a mirror they were told.

The rest of them sent to a place called Thunderspire, where they were to be sold, Clem thinks.

The beaten farmer is made comfortable, given food, water and generally made to feel well again; then he's locked back in the secret chamber, ignoring his heated protests, while the Knights continue their exploration.





Lucan checks for treasure then, as an after thought, a pulse.

There's a large wooden door in the western wall of the cavern, it looks to be swollen, clearly there's a water source behind it... otherwise the cavern continues on to the south, the later route is chosen.

Lucan creeps into the shadows and leads the Knights on.

Into a chamber with a myriad holes in the walls, and several inches of churned mud on the floor- with tracks in it, the young Elven Rogue confirms. But before he can elaborate a half-dozen chitinous snapping-jawed insects surge, or else burrow, their way into the midst of the adventurers.

Kruthiks- Hatchlings, Young and an Adult, very soon the air is alive with ruminations of the scrabbling insects.

Cathal and Farkill are very quickly bloodied, Lucan avoids a similar fate by getting as far as he can away from the creatures. The Hatchlings are soon cut through, even Splug however is forced to hold the line at one point with his newly acquired shortsword.

It gets worse momentarily when the Adult Kruthik appears and manages to catch Cathal and Farkill again with its Toxic Spikes, poisoning and slowing them both.

The Knights fight on, and soon enough the Young Hatchlings begin to fall, although the price paid is very high. The Knights see it through however, eventually crushing the filthy snapping giant insects.





I wish it could be Kruthik every day.

[DM Interlude Encounter #38 [878 XP = Level 5] Kruthik Hatchling x6 (Level 3 Minion); Kruthik Young x3 (Level 3 Brute) & Kruthik Adult (Level 5 Brute)]

Splug is sent forward into the Kruthik tunnels. Eager to please, the revolutionary Goblin discovers a pile of shiny stuff which he drags out for the Knights to admire- more money.

The area fully searched, the Knights head back to the swollen wooden door, the only chamber they have not yet been in. The door is examined for traps and then levered open. A set of slick stairs lead down into a pool room. Three quarters of the room is cool blue water, a ledge runs alongside a small rocky island in the middle of the liquid.

Torches are lit and the chamber fully illuminated- there's more treasure on the rocky island, the glint of gold, and a nice looking shield.

The Knights are discussing the best way to get to the treasure, when from the depths, and unseen, lurches a large Blue Slime.  More tentacle waving ensues, a number of the Knights are acid burnt and battered, to make things worse the creature expels a Stench Pulse- a kind of rubbery fart; which leaves a good half of the group dazed, damaged and weakened.

It's a close run thing, particularly as Lucan is again wounded badly and almost out of the fight, Splug is not venturing forward- Cathal and Farkill form the front line, while Ignaran vainly tries to stay out of reach of the creature.

Finally the slime is cut, diced, spiked, burnt, blasted and bashed into gooey submission, actually death. At this point however all of the Knights, save the ever cautious Splug, are bloodied.





Jimmy the Blue Slime wins award for the least threatening image.

[DM Interlude- and most have only one Healing Surge left.]

[DM Interlude Encounter #38 [875 XP = Level 4] Jimmy the Blue Slime (Level 4 Solo Brute)]

A magical Shield of Protection, a Potion of Healing and a pile of gold and silver are recovered, alongside two scroll tubes, which on further investigation are found to contain... two scrolls.

The first reads-

“Remember, don’t wet the nodule—unless Kalarel is not receptive to the offer. Then, wet it only from a distance, and then, turn and run. Water will bring the creature out of its dormancy, and it will consume anything it can reach.”

Which is odd? Ignaran speculates that the 'nodule' in question is the dormant version of the Blue Slime the Knights have just fought.

Cathal adds that Kalarel was obviously receptive to the offer, whatever the offer was. The Knights delve into the second scroll tube eager for more information.

It reads-

“Greetings, Kalarel. I have recently learned of your activity in the area and have an offer for you. During your time in this region, if you should capture any humanoids, we are eager to buy them. We have Duergar allies in Thunderspire in need of slave stock. If you are interested, send an envoy back to me. My messengers will show the way.” 

It is signed:

“Chief Krand of the Bloodreavers.” 

The writing on the scroll is in the same hand as the first.

The Knights collectively smile in glee- there's nothing better than putting a name to your enemy. Chief Krand can look forward to a visit, as can the Duergar mentioned- the Knights are on their trail.

And with that the 12th session draws to a close with the five Knights umming and arring about whether to take an extended rest or just press on. Together they have gained 8834 XP this session.


----------



## Goonalan

For the best way to read this thread then go to- Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images.

The Friday Knights

Session 13- The Keep on the Shadowfell Part 7

In play this week we have-
Astaroth, Human Fighter Level 3 
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 3 (4, after an extended rest)
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 2
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 3
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 2 (3, after an extended rest)

The Knights venture out of the Keep on the Shadowfell with Clem Statto in tow, the place has been fully investigated and thoroughly routed.

[DM Interlude- Astaroth is back in play and we're up to full strength, therefore Splug will be tagging along as an NPC, not getting involved with the action- which was pretty much what he was doing anyway. The Knights have decided against the extended rest, instead they will press on.]

Initial thoughts are for the Knights to return to Winterhaven, however new information soon comes to light- tracks, lots of tracks, there might as well be a sign stating- 'Bloodreavers went this way.'

Red rag to a bull, the Knights follow the tracks for several hours through low scrub and brush, then plunge through a woods and less than ten minutes later catch up with the Bloodreaver Vanguard, who have been busy.

Concealed in the undergrowth the Knights make out yet another destroyed caravan, a circle of hog-tied merchants, drovers and guards. This will not do.

Lucan scouts out the area ahead and relays his findings, the Bloodreavers are set up ready for another ambush, clearly they mean business. There are a over half-a-dozen of the creatures all hidden away but facing towards the road, easy targets.

The ambushers get ambushed, it only seems fitting.

The Knights initial rush accounts for all of the Hobgoblin Grunts, all five of them- and almost does for one of the burly Hobgoblin Soldiers.

One of the Bloodreavers turns out to have a modicum of skill, Charlie Big Potatoes is a Hobgoblin Subcommander, he rallies his troops and the fight rumbles on. Worse, an unaccounted for Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Archer appears atop a rock with a grand view of the Knights, he peppers our heroes.

But not for long, Ignaran puts in some long range efforts and then Lucan makes it around to  the Hobgoblin's vantage point, unseen and unheard, a little later screams are heard.

The remainder of the Bloodreavers are swiftly cut down.

[DM Interlude Encounter #40 [920 XP = Level 4] Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Grunt x5 (Level 4 Minions); Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Soldiers x2 (Level 4 Soldiers), Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Archer (Level 4 Artillery) & Charlie Big Pototoes, Bloodreaver Hobgoblin Subcommander (Level 4 Controller)]

The prisoners are soon freed, the bodies of the Bloodreavers looted and all is well with the world. Alas the Bloodreaver trail ends here, it seems the Knights have been fooled, following the wrong group of Bloodreavers, my Tra'ak is clever.

Battered and bruised, and now with numerous good citizens tagging along, the Knights decide to head for home, or at least their temporary home- Winterhaven.





Ambushing the ambushers.

There they are met by the good townsfolk who, while they have not as yet got their missing loved ones back, have at least acquired a little hope- the Knights are on the case.

Much drinking ensues, that and eating, and resting, and bragging- Splug is eventually explained away- not however before he has planted the seed of rebellion in a number of the younger members of Winterhaven's community.

“The Masters rule by way of coercion and collusion; whoever has the youth has the power”, the Goblin revolutionary declares to much nodding.

And...

“When we hang the capitalists they will sell us the rope we use!”

After Wrafton, of Wrafton's Inn, refuses to serve him.

The Knights take the plaudits and get well again, not one of them noticing that Ninaran, the beautiful female Ranger, is not present.

Valthrun the Sage promises to look into Thunderspire.  He shares what little he knows of the place- that it is an abandoned outpost of a ancient Minotaur Clan, and latterly that it has become a trading establishment- between the Nentir Vale and the Underdark. He'll search further in his library for additional information and report back.

Lord Padraig stands a round or two, pays for the Knights stay, and shares some more of his wealth with the Knights for the destruction of the Kobold menace and the withdrawal of the Bloodreavers from the Keep.

He goes on to double his reward for the return of the good citizens of Fallcrest that have been taken - most likely to Thunderspire - he wants them back, safe and sound.

It's not until an extended rest is over, and the Knights are thinking about retiring for the night to rest some more, thinking their adventures here in Winterhaven are over, that Ninaran's absence is noted.

The tension is cranked up when it is discovered that the beautiful Elven Ranger was spotted earlier in the day leading a gaggle of Winterhaven's younglings into the woods. This, as it stands, is not suspicious - Ninaran teaches woodcraft and survival- however the group has not returned and the light is beginning to fade.

The Knights are called to action again.

And soon are heading in the direction of Winterhaven's graveyard, that's where Ninaran's trail goes. 

Night draws in as the brave heroes approach the boneyard, and out of the woods either side of the crude track, and from the paupers' graves, come a squadron of Zombie Rotters, lead by a Zombie Maw, a great gulping fanged creature. The Knights are soon in the thick of it.

The Rotters prove to be merely a distraction, a few scratches here and there, but the Knights cut through the shambling tide, make their way to the Zombie Maw and slay the creature easily.

[DM Interlude Encounter #41 [1143 XP = Level 5] Zombie Rotter x22 (Level 4 Minions) & Zombie Maw (Level 4 Controller). Good to look at- all those Zombies, but ineffectual as far as putting paid to the Knights goes.]





Fish in a barrel time.

The Knights are in a rush now, they smash their way into the graveyard, but not before Cathal and Farkill set right the shrine to Avandra on the outside of the place, recently desecrated it seems.

Lucan is sent skittering into the shadow to check the place out, he doesn't report back. Having discovered the approach to the central shrine deserted, he spies Ninaran within. She has her bow ready, set to attack the approaching Knights, who are shambling forward in search of their scout.

He decides to play the hero, and springs the trap. Creeping as close as he can to the ruined shrine in which Ninaran cowers- he attacks, and then screams as loud as he can- the rest of the Knights come running. At the same time a dozen skeletons spring in to unlife, clearly from their garb, the missing youth of Fallcrest- killed and animated in some dark ritual, worse still a pair of Gravehound Zombies rush to meet the advancing Knights.

Once again the Decrepit Skeletons prove to be merely a distraction, they inflict a little damage but it's mostly superficial.

The Gravehounds have a greater degree of success, the Knights' advance is stopped in its tracks when Astaroth and Cathal are both dragged prone by the beasts, and bitten badly- the other Knights redouble their efforts to break through, which just leaves Lucan alone to battle Ninaran.

The Rogue versus the Ranger proves to be a war of attrition, the Ranger is hindered as she cannot use her bow, the Rogue cannot get the combat advantage he needs to do significant damage to the beautiful elf. The pair exchange barbed comments in the heat of the battle, culminating in Lucan bloodying Ninaran and demanding she 'cease her foreplay and get down to business.'

Ninaran flees through a hole in the rear of the ruined shrine and ducks into the dense woods, Lucan loses sight of her instantly.

Outside the Knights eventually make mincemeat of the Undead there, Farkill at last pulls out his Holy Symbol and chooses to turn, and in the process immobilise, the Gravehounds, thereafter it's a cinch.

[DM Interlude Encounter #42 [922 XP = Level 4] Skeleton Decrepit x12 (Level 2 Minions); Zombie Gravehound x2 (Level 4 Brute) & Ninaran (Level 5 Artillery)]





Dead Rover.

[DM Interlude- Ignaran now has enough XP to advance to 4th level after an extended rest.]

The graveyard is thoroughly searched, the remains of a ritual circle are found - the source of the negative energy that just recently turned twelve members of Winterhaven's youth into sword and bow wielding Skeletons. The circle is destroyed, there's little else in the way of clues- the Knights head out of the graveyard and into the dense woods behind, stumbling through the bramble in an  attempt to follow the Elf's trail.

Eventually they find the way, and an hour or so later are approaching Ninaran's hidden cabin, which is now no longer hidden.

The Knights scope out the place, there seems to be movement within, Lucan with his eagle eyes spots twitching curtains. Lucan tries again- he heads off to scout the place, this time with Ignaran in tow.

With the same result- the pair disappear from sight and fail to reappear, eventually the rest of the Knights take it on themselves to advance on the Guardian Drake which patrols the cabin's front door.

They attack swiftly- at a charge. However, at the same time, Ninaran appears at a window and opens fire, also a pair of Shadow Wolves emerge, previously unseen, from the dense forest behind the Knights, and take to snapping at their heels and soft underbellies.

The fight stalls.

Or at least it does at the front of the cabin.

Ignaran and Lucan have other plans- while Ignaran contends with the Guardian Drake at the rear of the building Lucan dashes inside the cabin, and confronts Ninaran.

And a pair of Shadow Hounds which pop into existence the moment he arrives.

Lucan smashes back out of the closest window, having swiftly calculated the odds, at the same moment Cathal, Astaroth and Farkill eventually put an end to the foes they are battling at the front of the cabin- Cathal wrenches open the door just in time for Ninaran to redirect her Shadow Hounds at him.

The Knights retreat a little and the fight spills out of the cabin, leaving Ninaran once again alone within her home.

She takes up her bow once more, grins again, as she spies Astaroth and Cathal, already bloodied being hounded by her shadowy pets. She further complicates matters when she sinks a critical hit into Farkill's chest- the Dwarven Priest of Moradin is almost down.

It's in the balance.

That is, until Lucan picks another window, and launches himself back into the cabin-

“Lady, we meet again.”

Ninaran screams, Lucan pulls out his daily and knocks Ninaran unconscious in a moment.

[DM Interlude- apologies in advance for this bit, it's incredibly crude and I only mention it because it's what happened.]

Look away now.

Lucan teabags Ninaran.

There it's over- you can look back.

Phew, close one.

[DM Interlude- you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed Jack's (Lucan), “I teabag her.” He's a very naughty boy.]

The fracas draws to a close outside, Ignaran has only just managed to best the Guardian Drake at the rear of the cabin- the Knights gather within to witness Lucan rearranging himself, and Ninaran coming round with a terrible taste in her mouth.

[DM Interlude Encounter #43 [1300 XP = Level 6] Guardian Drake x2 (Level 3 Brutes); Shadow Wolf x2 (Level 4 Lurkers), Shadow Hound x3 (Level 3 Lurkers) & Ninaran (Level 5 Artillery)

[DM Interlude- Astaroth is now an extended rest away from 4th level.]





If you go down to the woods today...

The beautiful Elf is hog-tied, further evidence of her deception is discovered, a brief love note, not reproduced here (I can't find the text) from Kalarel to 'his dark lady Ninaran' warning her to be wary of a group of adventurers calling themselves the Friday Knights. Clearly the communication is good on the dark side, alternatively the Knights marketing department are earning their corn.

Either way the cabin is searched, a few valuables found and looted, and Ninaran is dragged back to Winterhaven to explain the deaths of the youths of Winterhaven.

There's much wailing and gnashing of teeth, Lord Padraig and Rond's guards work hard to prevent the lynching...

The Knights retire for the night, bed down, half the heroes they were earlier, and by the populace mostly forgotten.

There endeth the 13th actual session of play, between them this session the Knights have amassed a total of 8145 XP.

Until next time...


----------



## Richard Rawen

Still having a blast reading the exploits of the Knights, thanks for posting!


----------



## Goonalan

No problems Richard, thanks for reading.

For the best way to read this thread then go to- Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images.

The Friday Knights

Session 14- Return to Fallcrest.

Still in Winterhaven the Knights take a last meeting with Valthrun the odd Sage, he has discovered a little more about Thunderspire Labyrinth - the fact that the Minotaur stronghold there was seemingly destroyed in some unexplained violent confrontation over a century ago. Valthrun hints that the Labyrinth is home to all manner of less than savoury races, a chance it seems for the Underdark's inhabitants to scratch the surface of the Nentir Vale, clearly it's a dangerous place.

Valthrun also sets the Knights a task, to return to him with details of what occurred there, how the Minotaur civilisation was defeated, he will pay for evidence and information.

And with that the Knights leave a subdued Winterhaven, en route for Fallcrest and their homes.

An uneventful two day journey sees the Knights back in the city, the roads are becoming safer it seems, thanks to the Knights' efforts.

In the city they are welcomed back with open arms by the inhabitants of the Blue Moon Alehouse. Kamara the Halfling Brew Mistress has a spot by the fire reserved for the Knights, after all they did save the place in the Bloodreaver Goblin attack, and then straight after from burning down- they're given free board.

Meetings are arranged, the first of which is with The Goose, self-styled information broker, and latterly assuming the role of the Knights' Manager.  He has big plans for the Knights, beyond the merchandising which has already taken a hold of the youth market. He wants to arrange publicity events etc. a chance for the Knights to meet their people...

Which meets with something much less than enthusiasm, except for Lucan who thinks it's a cracking idea and a certain money spinner, 'fleece the bastards' is his actual comment.

The Goose is dismissed unceremoniously, Cathal, a little morose after the unhappy conclusion of the Knights' venture into the Keep on the Shadowfell, gets the message across by driving The Goose out of the Inn- sword drawn.

Lucan agrees to meet up with the information broker at a later date to finalise the programme of events, and promises to 'think outside of the box', and indeed to, 'push the envelope'; both phrases that The Goose is fond of misapplying.

And then there were four.

Later on the same day, awaiting the arrival of Eoffram Troyas, the Fallcrest Councillor who set them on the path to defeat Kalarel, Astaroth makes his speech, his farewell speech-

“Astaroth go now. Live with Lady Constance, no more fighting. Astaroth no more Knight. Astaroth genkleman...”

And so that's the last the Knights see of the man-mountain, he's given up the adventuring life, and for what- for love, the big soft lummox.

Moments later Astaroth has collected his gear and climbed into the waiting liveried carriage outside, and from there to Lady Constance's estate to become a kept man.

[DM Interlude- Akshay who plays Astaroth is unhappy, for some unknown reason, with Astaroth- now 4th level Human Fighter, I wonder what crazy changes are in store...]

The Knights sup their small beers and bemoan their lot in life, at least for a little while.

A short time later a short Dwarf with a short name- Rock; who has been working the last few weeks as a bouncer at the Blue Moon Inn finally works up the courage to make his short speech.

“I'm Rock. I hit things. Hit hard.”

For emphasis he punches his fist into the palm of his hand.

“And...” Cathal asks.
“Can I join the Knights?”

He's a Dwarf, so he's guaranteed Farkill's vote, he's a tough meat-shield so he gets Ignaran's vote, he's an idiot so he gets Lucan's vote.

Cathal asks lots of questions and gets straight uncomplicated answers- Rock's mother and father are prospectors, they have a small low-grade tin mine, it doesn't produce enough however to make much money, thus he is looking to adventure so he can send money home, and to make his fortune. 

Cathal notes Rock's nervousness, he pumps the Dwarf for more information, it turns out the whole truth is Rock is a little clumsy, not really suited for mining work, things tend to fall down when he's around, such is his lack of skill. His parents will be glad to see the back of him, he mutters.

“Welcome aboard.” Cathal proffers his hand.

[DM Interlude- yes, what a change, Akshay has swapped out his 4th level Human Fighter for a 2nd level Dwarven Fighter... Go figure?]

[DM Interlude- after the role-play etc. Farkill has enough XP to train up to level 3.]

And so...  

In play this week we have-
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 3
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 4
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 3
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 2

An hour or so later the Knights meet up with Eoffram Troyas and tell their tale.  He listens intently and then takes possession of the Rod of Ruin, the Knights are paid what they are owed- including funds from Nimozaran for Douven Staul's safe return; and money from the churches seeking the end of the death cult in Winterhaven. The Knights are loaded.

An early night for all, a day shopping in the city is planned for tomorrow, another meeting with Eoffram who will have fresh instructions next evening, and then the next day- onto Thunderspire, to rescue the slaves, that's the plan at least.

The next day is spent shopping and relaxing, the Knights spend their hard won treasure on upgrading their equipment, replacing items lost or used.

A pleasant meal is arranged for the evening, and soon after cancelled- their rest day is disturbed, Eoffram is back early.

It seems the Knights are being diverted, Thunderspire is on hold for a few days, Eoffram spills the beans- an amulet has been stolen and then recovered, not just any old amulet it seems. The amulet was buried with a woman called Dugesia Dev'shir- grave goods. The amulet was recovered, as stated, bought for a tidy sum from a pawnbroker called Oskar. The issue, then, is who stole the amulet, what else did they get away with from the Dev'shir Family Tomb, and why was it robbed.

“What the hells do we care?”

Cathal is furious, it seems he's not taken with this new information, this change of direction- the lives of the captured citizens of Fallcrest and Winterhaven are at stake.

Eoffram interrupts, Dugesia Dev'Shir has a sister, her name is Elam- she married a dozen years ago, her married name is Markelhay, her full title now is Lady Markelhay of Fallcrest.

It seems the rulers of Fallcrest are pulling the strings, Cathal is still unhappy, however he softens his position when he is told of the rewards that are in store should the Knights get to the bottom of this problem.  It seems money can dull the pain of even the hard bitten warrior of Kord.

Eventually he is persuaded, the Knights will take the job, complete the task in double quick time and then head off straight after for Thunderspire.

Eoffram agrees and states he will do everything he can to aid them in their task, he further informs the Knights that discretion is the order of the day, no one is to know of Lady Markelhay's connection. He further states that the Dev'Shir tomb has been placed under watch but as of yet has not been investigated- the Knights are the only ones that will be allowed in to the place.

And so the adventure begins again...

[DM Interlude- and so begins the Knight's third adventure Goodman Games Dungeon Crawl Classic DC56 Scions of Punjar, only for Punjar read Fallcrest.]

There's no time like the present, the Knights gather their stuff and head out into the fading light in search of Oskar's Pawnshop, which proves easy to find in the alleys off Fallcrest Docks.

Oskar, a greasy thug, proves to be... surprisingly helpful, his shop full of all manner of interesting junk is studiously ignored- the Knights cut to the chase- 'who did you buy the Amulet from?” Rock states and smashes his axe into the counter.

Cathal smooths over the violence with his honeyed words and in seconds flat he and Rock are in good cop/bad cop mode. The conversation is helped a little when Ignaran offers a bag of money for the information they need.

Wembley, Oskar's bloodthirsty Dire Stirge pet remains in his cage, Oskar- all smiles, gives over the name of the thief without further ado- 

“Latimer, his name's Latimer, a huge ugly Half-Orc, you can find him at the Famished Froghemoth at around midnight most every night.”





Oskar the Pawnbroker tells the Knights what they need to know without taking a beating, a first.

The Froghemoth is a spit-and-sawdust style drinking den just off the docks, a place rough types frequent- the Knights decide to head there later in the hope of meeting up with Latimer. For now though there's the Dev'shir Family Tomb to check out.

The Knights make their way across the city to the Tombs, and are there met by, who else... Sgt. Murgeddin, the Dwarven Watchman, and their usual liaison.

The way is clear for the Knights to enter, no one has been in, no one has come out.

The elaborate doors to the Tomb prove to be both Arcane Locked and trapped, this however serves to only slow the Knights down for a moment- Lucan, with a little help from Ignaran and Farkill, soon gets the great stone portals safely open.

Torches are lit and the Knights enter in- the first chamber is magnificent, although it bears signs of people passing, the massive hall within is 40 feet wide and stretches for at least 70 feet. The ceiling is some 30 feet overhead, and soft light emanates from several globes suspended from chains. The floor is smooth grey tile, polished to a glistening shine. In front of the doors is a stone basin, perhaps 15 feet in diameter, with a low stone wall. A 10-foot-high statute of an ageing, sage-like scholar occupies the centre of the basin. A book is tucked under one of the statue’s arms, and a sundial is cradled in one outstretched palm. A thin stream of water issues forth from the statue’s palm, cascading into the shallow reaches of the basin.

Beyond the fountain is a plain stone altar. A pair of stone doors is situated on the east and west walls, across from the altar. Behind the altar, centred on the north wall, is a set of double stone doors. The north wall appears to be an elaborate mural of a many-branched tree- which is also duly ignored.

The Knights, lead by Cathal, are in a rush to finish up here, perhaps not the best tactic employed in an investigation.

Soon after the door committee- Lucan, Ignaran & Farkill - are hard at work, tested again by the Arcane Lock and trap on the next set of double doors.

BOOM!

Their results are in- Fail, glyphs on the door swim before their eyes and then explode, at the same time a pair of doors to the north clatter open and a host of Undead warriors spill out.

Eight Decrepit Skeletons put up little in the way of a fight, and are cut through easily. The half-dozen Skeleton Warriors prove however to be much more adept, Farkill's Holy Symbol is waved about frantically and is just enough to hold the horde at bay. It also helps that the horde are bottle-necked in the doorway to the chamber, limited in their ability to move into and around the Knights.

Eventually the Knights get the job done, hacking, smashing and slashing their way through the boney warriors- reducing them to shards of their former selves.

The chamber discovered is a single desecrated wing of the Tomb, the ex-inhabitants the former corpses of the high-born Dev'shir family, now turned to the dark-side and bent on the destruction of the living- for which read the Friday Knights.

There's little of value here, besides Cathal is cracking the whip- no time to mess about, the Knights head on.





Tomb it may concern.

[DM Interlude Encounter #44 [1500 XP = Level 7] Trap Glyph (Level 5 Elite Ward); Skeleton Decrepit x8 (Level 1 Minions) & Skeleton Warrior x6 (Level 3 Soldiers)]

Closer investigation of the east wall reveals that the once sealed stone doors are carved like the gnarled trunk of a massive tree. Its branches extend to the left and right, covering most of the 40-foot-wide wall. Situated in the branches of the tree are small bricks bearing engraved names. There must be over one hundred of the bricks, with room for scores more. The entire thing is an elaborate Dev'shir family tree.

Ignaran and the others investigate, it seems that two of the bricks have been tampered with- it's a small matter to remove the bricks, each bearing the name of a family member, from the wall- they sit in snug niches.

The disturbed bricks bear no names, whereas all the other bricks bear names of deceased family members- odd.

Lucan manages to free one of the unmarked bricks- there's a folded piece of paper in the niche beyond- the young Elven Rogue investigates further and discovers... nothing. There's nothing written on the paper, although, Lucan looks at his hands, they're red raw and have a glistening tint, then the poison hits.

At the same time Ignaran fails to correctly remove the second unmarked brick, another glyph erupts, ice and freezing cold pulses out from the wall and engulfs the Knights, immobilising the Druid and Farkill, the Dwarven Priest of Moradin.

The doors to the south grind open and guess what... a second horde of Undead tramp out to mix it up with the Friday Knights.

This time the enemies contain no minions, however the Knights tactics remain the same and no matter how much pushing and jostling the shambling undead attempt, the Knights hold firm, create a space around the door and allow only a few undead to filter out each turn.

There's nothing to upset the Knights plan, none of the undead have ranged weapons, it takes a good while however, particularly as the Knights are content to hold the line- Cathal barking orders to ensure that none of the Knights break rank- they are therefore reduced to waiting for either the Skeleton Warriors or the Zombie Brutes to emerge, and then braining them.

It works a treat.

At the end of it all the Knights have barely a scratch on them, while the undead, more ex-Dev'shir family members, are completely destroyed.





Next...

[DM Interlude Encounter #45 [2150 XP = Level 8] Zombie x6 (Level 2 Brute); Skeleton Warrior x8 (Level 3 Soldier) & Skeleton Boneshard (Level 5 Brute). There's something beautiful when the players figure the tactics just right, and then have the good sense not to mess with a winning formula, in all honesty I don't mind the loss of my precious monsters- only mindless undead afterall.]

The undead taken care of, the second unmarked brick and its niche are examined- more nothing. The Knights get their collective thinking caps on-

“The two missing names- they must be Lady Markelhay's sisters or brothers.” Ignaran states to nods.

“And one of them will be behind all this.” Cathal concludes.

The Knights think about this a for while- Farkill has a problem-

“Aren't they dead- if the bricks are in the wall that means they're dead... Right?”

They think about things some more, until their heads hurt.

Lucan breaks up the meeting, he pushes open the door to the east, a thin corridor heads in, on either side are undisturbed tombs- obviously the last resting places of well off members of the Dev'shir family. Torchlight shines in, illuminates the way.

“One of them has been opened.” Lucan states and turns to look at his companions, he's met by shrugs and glares, except for Cathal who merely motions the young Elven Rogue to go forward.

Lucan gulps and then complies.

Looking back he could have sworn he saw movement, must have been a trick of the light- he heads in.

And there endeth the 14th session of the Friday Knights, between them the players have accumulated 8109 XP.


----------



## Goonalan

*The Friday Knights, Scions of Fallcrest (with Pics)*

The Friday Knights

Session 15- The Scions of Fallcrest Part 2 In search of the Crimson Hand.

And so in double-quick time the Knights intend to find out who has been stealing things from the Dev'shir family tomb, a little unhappy that they have been waylaid by this task- prevented from heading straight back out of Fallcrest in pursuit of the good citizens of the Vale that have been sold into slavery by the Bloodreavers.

Lucan leads the Knights into the final chamber, one of the tombs ahead seems to have been broken open.

In play this week we have the same players as last week-
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 3
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 4
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 3
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 2

It seems someone, singular, has been here recently, a lone set of booted tracks disturb the dust, otherwise the place has lain empty for years.

Lucan makes his way cautiously forward, a tomb on the southern wall has been smashed open, and recently, the tracks end here- he can make out the name on the tomb- Dugesia Dev'shir, he files away this information for later use. Within the cramped chamber of the tomb all is chaos- the  broken body of a once beautiful woman lies bent and abused on the floor- long dead but only recently attacked it seems- strange, who would want to attack a corpse?

Unseen by Lucan and the other Knights, a little way further down the unlit corridor, one half of a marked brick, like the ones in the Dev'shir family tree encountered earlier, rises, seemingly unaided, into the air.

Then violently hurtles forward and smashes into the side of young Lucan's skull- the blood pours as the Elf screams and darts back out of the tomb, only to be confronted by the screaming spectral figure of a once beautiful young woman.

“TOMB ROBBERS! DESPOILERS!”

The ghost screams, howls and rages- the horrifying sound leaves all of the Knights covering their ears, trying vainly to block out the terrifying sound, they're dazed and struggling to comprehend what is happening.

All save one.

Lucan looks up at the once beautiful woman, and whispers “Dugesia?” he accompanies the plea with his best doe-eyed expression.

Which brings the action to a sudden stand still.

It goes quiet.

The once ferocious ghost looks betrayed, or else becalmed, unsure of who the beautiful Elf addressing her is.

“Sir Knight?” she tentatively enquires of Lucan.

All eyes are on the Elven Rogue, who rises to his full height, about five foot six, puffs his chest out and begins his spiel.

“I am Sir Lucan the Brave, Holy Paladin of...” Lucan casts around trying to summon the name of a benevolent deity to mind, “... Erathis?” he offers.

The ghost of Dugesia Dev'shir, for it is she, bows.

“Fear not beautiful maiden for I have come to revenge your loss, to seek out and destroy the evil miscreants that have fouled your final resting place.” Lucan adds and half-heartedly salutes, sort of.

[DM Interlude- Lucan rolls something ridiculous like 34 for his Bluff check, damn him.]





Lucan, not even the dead are safe from his charms.

[DM Interlude Encounter #46 [700 XP = Level 1] Dugesia Dev'Shir, Tormented Ghost (Level 8 Elite Controller)]

“Oh Sir Lucan- me? Beautiful?” The Ghost of Dugesia Dev'shir goes all weak at her spectral knees.

Lucan turns back to look at the other Knights, winks at Cathal who is bristling with rage, and indicates that they should leave the room, he wants to be alone with his new 'special' lady.

Thirty minutes later Lucan reappears, he looks to have very faded lipstick smears on his face.

“Well that was interesting!” he declares and applies a wonky grin to his physog.

His kiss-and-tell story goes a little like this- the tomb was raided about three days ago, the robbers broke into the first chamber it seems, took a few items from here and there and then broke into the side tombs. The tomb robbers were lead by a woman. Dugesia, the Ghost, heard her giving orders- the woman then broke into her tomb and, seemingly enraged, smashed up the place- hence her body lying bent and busted on the floor.

The woman was very angry about something, then she and the other tomb robbers left, although before they left she heard them say something about the 'Crimson Hand'.

Some time later Dugesia realised that she was no longer trapped within her broken body, she was a ghost, returned to haunt this place- to ensure that the tomb robbers, and in particular the cruel woman, were punished for their treachery.

Lucan finally adds that Dugesia Dev'shir told him she is indeed the sister of Elam (Lady Markelhay) and Lacki Dev'shir. The latter, the older sister of Elam and Dugesia, having died many years ago of a wasting disease.

“So we're looking for Lacki then?” Cathal surmises.
“I figure.” Lucan nods and then throws over the two halves of one of the missing bricks from the family tree- it's marked with the name Dugesia Dev'shir of course.
“Which means we're just missing the one with Lacki Dev'shir written on it?” Ignaran concludes.

[DM Interlude- bloody hackneyed plots, you could write them on the back of a postage stamp.]

The Knights form up ready to head off, next step the Famished Froghemoth.  As they're about to leave the spirit of Dugesia Dev'shir reappears, buttoning up her blouse, and bearing the same wonky grin Lucan is toting. 

“Farewell Lord Lucan. I wish you well brave sir Knight, you and your men; and your pet Dwarves of course- Rollo and Fatty. Hurry back, I'm dying to see you again.”

She waves the Knights off.

And winks at Lucan.

Lucan looks a little sheepish and files out, the other Knights wait till they're a good distance away before expressing their disgust and/or admiration.

[DMs Interlude- after some excellent role-playing Lucan now has enough XP to advance to Level 4, after a (much needed) extended rest that is.]

Next stop the Famished Froghemoth, or so you'd think- however the time is not yet right for the Knights to head to the pub, Cathal has other plans.

He and Ignaran head off to the Civic Hall, in the hope they can wake a clerk or two and get into the Register of Births, Deaths and Marriages.

Rock and Farkill, still bristling from Lucan's previous insult, are sent back to visit Oskar the Pawnbroker- the question that needs answering is 'who or what is or are the Crimson Hand?'

Lucan volunteers to stay with Dugesia Dev'shir- pump her for more information.

And so it goes.

The Friday Knights meet up in two hours later to share their findings- Lacki Dev'shir it seems is really dead, at least that's what the register says, she died a dozen years ago although the records are a little confused. It seems the wayward Dev'shir sister spent much of her adult life in a secure mental institution, this after attacking and killing a servant of the household- she was known to have a blistering temper. Regardless, she's dead, that is unless the records have been falsified- now who would do such a thing?

The Dwarves, Rock and Farkill, have no problems with Oskar the Pawnbroker, he's very pliant now and eager to help- particularly when Rock gets his axe out again. The Crimson Hand it seems are a local gang of ne'er-do-wells. Latimer, the tomb robber who sold the amulet to Oskar, is a low ranking member of the organisation.

Inevitably the conversation at the Pawnbroker's circles a while-

“Why didn't you tell us this?” Rock asks.
“You didn't ask.” Oskar responds.
Repeat and rinse.

[DMs Interlude- after some excellent role-playing Rock also has enough XP to advance to Level 3, likewise after an extended rest.]

Lucan, back from visiting with Dugesia, has no new information to offer, although the wonky smile is back.

The Knights head for the Froghemoth and venture in.  The place is a dive, packed with a variety of Fallcrest's nastier specimens, foremost of which is Gwaldys Protheroe, one of the nastiest Halfling's, scratch that- the nastiest Halfling inhabitant of Fallcrest. A known gang land boss, she's playing cards- and winning, with a number of cowed crooks.

Lucan makes a bee-line for her table, and on-form, begins to make an arse of himself and in the process prevent the bad-tempered Halfling from winning any further hands.

[DM Interlude- Lucan is a somnambulist adrenalin junky; one word answers or grunts, belligerence in abundance, the morals of a... no, nothing springs to mind- when he doesn't have to move he doesn't move, in combat at times he becomes one with the furnishings. And then danger comes along, his little eyes light up, particularly at the thought of annoying someone else, preferably Cathal, and off he goes.] 

Latimer, the Half-Orc tomb robber, is in the Inn, and already drunk, it seems he's bent on spending all of his ill-gotten loot as quickly as possible. Soon enough Rock and Farkill are on the scene and helping him waste his gold.

The other Knights scope the place and ready themselves for trouble.

Once again the Knights and their silver-tongues hold sway, Latimer- now in his cups, and a little maudlin; is made to see the error of his wanton ways, through jagged crocodile tears he tells his story, or at least a little of it- however he's interrupted mid-flow, almost fatally.

As is Lucan and Gwladys, who are about to go head to head, the Halfling gang leader having finally run out of patience with the Elven Rogue.

The interruption takes the form of a cowled Tiefling who enters the bar flanked by two muscle-bound no-necked Human Thugs.

“Slayer business- leave now or die- we've come for him.” The Tiefling points at Latimer who spills the last of his pint and then empties his bladder.

Who are the Slayers you ask?

Actually it's Rock that asks.

“Assassins.” Lucan whispers, even he looks a little worried- Gwladys and her cronies depart, clearly indicating that she and Lucan will meet again some not so sunny day, and things will not go so well for the Elven Rogue at their next meeting.

The other revellers within the bar make their escape, even Marsupial Joe, the Inn owner, heads into the back room and locks the door.

Which just leaves the three Slayers, the Knights and Latimer.

“I wont tell you again.” Traenor, the Tiefling Slayer states, and glares at each of the Knights in turn.
“You just did.” Cathal answers back and draws his longsword.

No guesses what happens next.

The Slayer Thugs are straight into the fray, this after loosing a volley from their hand crossbows, which they then discard. The pair are flailing wildly with their greatswords, and connecting more often than not.

Traenor is a different proposition altogether, he's a Warlock- Cathal is swiftly cursed, then Eldritch Blasted. The Slayer follows up with all manner of foul incantations, including his Crown of Thorns which as well as bloodying the Warrior of Kord also clouds his mind and judgement- Cathal slashes furiously and injures Rock.

Then, of course, just as Cathal regains his senses and closes in, the Tiefling teleports away and becomes invisible.

In the meantime the Slayer Thugs continue to soak up the damage, however when Traenor reappears again, all of the Knights turn to face the Slayer- Cathal's orders, disregarding for a moment the Thugs entirely, and unleash whatever they've got left in their armoury. The Knights figure this is the last confrontation for this evening- the dailies are spent.

In double-quick time Traenor is taken down, courtesy of Cathal and Rock's joint Villain's Menace, And Lucan with his Positioning Strike; the others weigh in but are less effective.

It's soon over.

Only a curse for the living as Treanor and his Thugs are bested.

“I'll get you... see if I... aaaagggghhhhhh.”

The Inn returns to silence, save Latimer hiccuping and being sick in the corner, his nerve has finally gone.

The Half-Orc Rogue eventually finishes his confession, he and several other Crimson Hand members were ordered to break into the Dev'shir Tomb by his boss Haledon, even now the Crimson Hand are ensconced in an abandoned Iron Mine a little more than two miles north west of Fallcrest.





This one will Slay you.

[DM Interlude Encounter #47 [950 XP = Level 4] Slayer Thug x2 (Level 4 Brutes) & Traenor, Tiefling Warlock Assassin (Level 7 Elite Skirmisher)]

The Knights, or at least the Dwarven contingent, spy an opportunity, hop over the bar and settle themselves beneath the beer taps- take it in turns to open the flow. In the meantime the pair continue to make as much noise as they can in order to prevent Marsupial Joe from thinking about re-entering the bar, and in doing so extend their period of free boozing.

And when Marsupial Joe does return-

“A Slayer... You've killed a Slayer. In my bar... A Slayer!”

He's not happy.

Lucan explains that the Knights may have just dashed their chances of getting on the Slayers Erathismass card list- they're not going to be very popular.

“Kord will not be stopped- we are here to fight crime!” Cathal declares, to beery cheers and hiccups.

Eventually the Knights head home (singing), or at least back to the Blue Moon Alehouse, their home from home. There they meet up with Eoffram Troyas, councillor of Fallcrest, and explain all that has gone on.

Eoffram is excited at the prospect of finding the Thief, this Crimson Hand gang, so excited is he that he doubles the reward to 1,500 gold coins for each of the Knights should they prove successful in bringing them to justice.

He further confirms that Lady Markelhay does indeed, or rather did indeed, have two sisters- Dugesia who died in a fire, and Lacki who was taken by madness and killed herself, all but a prisoner in a far off sanatorium- so not a wasting disease as Dugesia told them.

The Knights retire for the night, wake early, take breakfast and then march straight out of Fallcrest- about two miles north west of the city, following a map that Latimer supplied them with. That is before the Half-Orc borrowed some money from the Knights and went to the docks in search of the first boat out of Fallcrest. The Slayers are known for their persistence.

A short steep-sloped valley lies before them, Lucan is sent forward a way- hidden in the lee of the cliffs he spies out the enemies position. He returns to the Knights and tells them that there is a tree house, or at least a platform, in the tree to the left with guards in it.

The Knights settle upon a plan- they charge straight towards the tree with the platform in it, pull up short and unleash all manner of ranged fury at its inhabitants, not much of a plan admittedly, but it works.

In the tree there are three Crimson Hand members, two Human Bandits, one of whom is quickly killed, the other doesn't last much longer, and Selvin, the Elven Ranger. He holds the fort and fires down upon the Knights, who don't have it all their own way.

Rushing out from the tree on the opposite side of the valley comes Bork, yelling all manner of indecorous threats to a personage, he's a spear wielding Human Warrior; alas the furious fellow is cut down by Cathal and Rock before he even has the chance to land a blow.

Selvin screams his surrender, and under instruction makes his way down from the tree platform, he spills the beans- the Crimson Hand are indeed within the mine complex, the entrance is trapped, a little- and other than numbers- maybe two dozen, there's little else he can tell.

The Elf is kicked and tied and wedged behind one of the trees to contemplate where he went wrong in life. 'Getting caught by the Friday Knights' is his first thought.





The Crimson Hand gets bloody.

[DM Interlude Encounter #48 [600 XP = Level 1] Human Bandit x2 (Level 2 Skirmishers); Bork, Human Warrior (Level 4 Brute) & Selvin, Elven Archer (Level 4 Artillery)]

The Knights then get a little creative, the platform up in the tree is wrenched down to the ground, shaped a little- with axes; into a sort of large wooden shield. Selvin having previously warned them that there is a crossbow trap within the mine entrance.

The Knights head on and enter a cave which is dark and dry, with a dusty, rubble-strewn floor. The walls are rough hewn, with roots hanging from the ceiling like tendrils. The corridor ends at a t-intersection with passages leading to the east and west.

Lucan scouts a little to the west, hears noises and moves a little further in- there seems to be some sort of blockage in the passage, scratch blockage- make it blockade; behind which are a gang of crossbow wielding Orcs, they seem to be on alert, funny that.

The Elven Rogue scuttles back and informs his friends of his find.

A moment or two later the Orcs can't believe their eyes, there seems to be a large wooden wall jogging towards them, they wonder what manner of strange creature it is- they hope it will prove to be friendly.

It turns out, of course, to be Cathal and Rock holding what remains of the wooden platform before them, the pair crash into and through the blockade, spill their large improvised shield and trample over it and into the fray. The Orcs are in disarray very quickly.





Choo-choo, here comes the Knight train.

Tizer, an Orcish Cleric spots the danger, his Chaos Hammer explodes with fury and smashes both of the front rank to the ground- Rock and Cathal stumble to their knees- exposing the rear rank to the Orc Bandits, who unleash a volley of crossbow bolts- all of which miss.

The action slows right down, the standing Knights check themselves all over, searching for leaks to plug- and yet... find none- not a scratch.

Hell comes early this year for the Orcs, Cathal and Rock are back on their feet and Tizer is soon after down, the Bandits take a little while longer- two of them even try to flee but there's nowhere for them to go except back down the entrance passage- and that's where the Knights are.

The dust settles on dead Orcs.

[DM Interlude Encounter #49 [800 XP = Level 3] Orc Bandit x4 (Level 3 Skirmishers) & Tizer, Orc Cleric (Level 5 Controller). Don't worry that these are easy encounters, I'm building slowly.]

The Orcs are searched, the room is scoured, and sure enough a secret door is found. Meanwhile Lucan and Ignaran head back down the passage to the entrance to the mine, instead they take the eastern spur, cautiously follow it a little way, spot the crossbow trap, which Lucan - with a little help from the Druid - disarms.

Back in the Orc guard chamber the Knights reassemble, gather their kit, and prise open the secret door, another darkened passage sloping upwards lies beyond- heading north, there's a pair of heavy metal rails, the kind that you find in mines.

“Shhh!” Lucan announces, grins, and then disappears into the black.

And that concludes the fifteenth session of play, with 7841 XP to share between the players.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Just caught up again - gret stugg still Goonalan. keep it coming.

And great to see Clem Statto in a D&D thread - surely a first.


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Just caught up again - gret stugg still Goonalan. keep it coming.
> 
> And great to see Clem Statto in a D&D thread - surely a first.




'grett stugg' what language is that? What does it mean?

Where did I get Clem Statto from?

Thanks for reading as ever.


----------



## Goonalan

*The Friday Knights in Scions of Fallcrest (with Pics)*

The Friday Knights

Session 16- The Scions of Fallcrest Part 3 Shaking the Crimson Hand.

In play this week we have-
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 3
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 3 (Level 4 after an Extended Rest)
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 2 (Level 3 after an Extended Rest)

Ignaran is missing, presumed still at work.

It's a one-man show, Lucan heads up the sloping passage, spots the mine cart poised at the top ready to be let loose, to send crashing down into the Knights. His instincts take over, he wedges a pair of 'spare' daggers into the front wheels of the cart- that should severely slow its progress.

He then creeps around the cart to get a good look at the two shoddily dressed individuals on the other side.

Alas he is spotted.

Actually he gets spotted when he rams his dagger into the spine of Kaz'Gar the Human Ranger, at which point the now crippled Crimson Hand member surrenders- not much of a fight, particularly as the second miscreant, Aneurin, a Human Rogue, runs into the eastern wall, thumps it hard- another secret door opens, and then dashes off screaming into the dark.

Game Over.

Lucan pulls the secret door back shut, he can hear the sounds of more bandits readying themselves for action. He grips tight to Kaz'Gar, puts his blade to the man's throat, and as the remainder of the Knights reach the spot, mutters “speak or die?”





Lucan, MVP.

[DM Interlude Encounter #50 [700 XP = Level 4] Kaz-Gar, Human Ranger (Level 4 Elite Skirmisher) & Aneurin, Human Rogue (Level 4 Elite Skirmisher). Too easy? Or just very well played- Lucan was rolling hot, natural 20 for stealth, and same again for his attack.]

Kaz'Gar burbles the truth- more bad guys waiting for the Knights ahead, probably setting up some sort of ambush, anywhere up to a dozen more Crimson Hand members, the Ranger states.

'No time like the present then.' Cathal grins and kicks open the secret door. It's a patented Friday Knight move- the head long charge into danger. Cathal leads it, Rock's not far behind- Lucan takes care of Kaz'Gar, and by take care I mean... use your imagination- he loots the Ranger's still warm corpse before joining the others for the fracas.

The Knights rush into yet another guard chamber, tables have been hastily overturned and awaiting the Knights arrival is a whole host of bad guys- introductions to follow. First on the agenda however are the swathe of caltrops the charging Knights have just run into.

Damaged and slowed is not enough however- the front line, Cathal and Rock cannot be stopped.

In the Crimson Hand's corner we have- four Human Bandits; Bramm their Lieutenant Leader-type; Borsk a huge Half-Orc Warrior, not overly bright; and Finn and Fenn, Human Mage and Human Warrior- respectively, the last pair are brothers.

Threats are made, missile weapons are flung and fired, and the Knights hop and scatter towards the barricades.

Two of the Human Bandits are killed in the opening exchanges, Bramm, the brave leader of the Bandit squad, legs it.

Lucan, on a roll, spirals out a dagger and catches Finn, the incanting Human Mage, unawares- and another critical; so fond is he of this manoeuvre that he tries it again, and hits again doing enough damage to sink the Mage in a little under six seconds.

[DM Interlude- Action Point (said in a comic/derisory tone). Gah!]

Fenn, brother of Finn, goes mental- leaps the barricade and goes after Lucan, alas (for him) Rock gets in the way- there follows a slugfest- Fenn and the huge Half Orc versus Cathal and Rock, with missile support from both sides.

It's a no-brainer for the Crimson Hand, they get soundly beaten (to death).





Borsk is quite a looker- actually he looks a little like me, your friendly DM, no, honestly- he really does.

[DM Interlude Encounter #51 [1475 XP = Level 8] Human Bandit x4 (Level 2 Skirmishers); Bramm Human Bandit Lieutenant (Level 4 Skirmisher); Finn, Human Mage (Level 5 Artillery); Borsk, Half-Orc Warrior (Level 6 Brute) & Fenn, Human Fighter (Level 4 Elite Brute).]

The Knights rob the dead and then without a moments hesitation, except perhaps a short rest to top up the tank, they press on- the passage leads on into darkness, mumbled cries somewhere ahead- Lucan is sent forward to scout the way.

While he's gone Rock notices something odd about the wall he's leaning on, awaiting Lucan's return, he puts his shoulder against it and heaves. Sure enough, yet another secret door and another dark  passage within. He shares his news, the Knights however decide to mark time until Lucan returns- point-man is his job these days, and he does it so well.

[DM Interlude- Bastard.]

Lucan returns forthwith, there are yet more of the Bandits, nothing special- Lucan thinks - awaiting the Knights' approach, in a small bedchamber further down the passage; he thinks he saw the guy who ran from the last fight with them- Bramm.

Rock and Farkill keep an eye on the passage, while Lucan leads Cathal into the newly revealed secret passage, and on into a jumbled storeroom.

Unbeknownst to the two Knights, secreted away high on one wall is a cubby-hole in which sits a baby-faced Gnome twisting a dagger in his hands.

[DM Interlude- I ask for perception checks, as the PCs say they are searching around, Lucan rolls a natural 20, Cathal rolls a 19 plus bonuses.]

Lucan dashes up a stack of crates and is at the cubby-hole in seconds, his blade pressed against Lem, the baby-faced Gnome's, throat.





The villains are getting younger and younger...

Lem comes quietly, actually he's a very temporary member of the Crimson Hand, his actual employer is Gwladys Protheroe, the Halfling Crime Lord that Lucan is so fond of, and vice-versa. The players are not aware of this however, and he's not telling.

[DM Interlude Encounter #52 [600 XP = Level 7] Lem, Gnome (Level ?). Only two PCs in the action here.]

Lem tells the Knights everything they need to know- there are half-a-dozen to a dozen bandits left; a mad Priest who hasn't been seen for days, and the big boss- he's called Haledon, a swordsman of sorts apparently, a bit of a rake- a ladies man. Lucan shakes his head- competition. The whole operation Lem declares is pretty ramshackle, he's fairly certain there must be someone else in control, pulling the strings.

Lem is also polite, and makes suitably crude jokes to lighten the atmosphere.  Saving Cathal, everyone likes him - nobody of course seeks to question the fact that he's so keen to tell the Knights exactly what they need to know.

[DM Interlude- one of those moments as a DM you have to sit back and chuckle, my players, unless they read this, will never realise that Lem's job was to make sure the Knights clear out this pit of... competition, what better way than getting a bunch of do-gooders to do your dirty work for you, very clever is Gwladys Protheroe, at least at times.]

Lem is released.

And unharmed.

Made my day.

The Knights head on, further into the lair, slowly building up speed they jog around the corner and into the next chamber packed with flailing low-life Crimson Hand Bandits, and in their usual manner cut them down.

Five more Human Bandits lie dead and Bramm, their erstwhile (fleeing) leader, is captured and beaten a little- he's just not cute like Lem.





Room 6b. Bandits!

[DM Interlude Encounter #53 [800 XP = Level 5] Human Bandit x5 (Level 2 Skirmishers) & Bramm Human Bandit Lieutenant (Level 4 Skirmisher).]

Before the Knights can get really worked up with Bramm, a voice rings out-

“Come fight me, you feebling scumdogs, I am Haledon the Great, master swordsman, wit and raconteur.”
“What's a raconteur?” Rock asks.
“A type of beetle.” Lucan replies.

“He's very confident for the last man standing isn't he?” Cathal observes and scratches an itch.

The Knights forget Bramm, who scuttles off, and instead edge forward in order to get a glimpse of Haledon.

Haledon eventually hoves into sight, he's well dressed, his Chainmail armour is beautifully maintained, his beard neatly trimmed- and suitably rakish, his hair fly-away, his complexion clear- he obviously has a good moisturising regime.

Oh and he wields a Flaming Longsword, seemingly with expertise.

There's a lot of pushing and shoving in the Knights' ranks- no one wants to be at the front.

The Knights and Haledon exchange barbed remarks, artfully-crafted rejoinders, put-downs and bon-mots. 

Actually...

“And so we meet at last...” Haledon begins.
Lucan nudges Rock.
“Shut yer yap!” The Dwarf barks and rumbles forward at full tilt.

And it really doesn't go all the Knights' own way.

[DM Interlude- a smile plays around the DMs lips, he readies his 'mwah-hah-hah.']

First contact and Cathal is hurt badly, although not yet blooded, and Haledon is unscathed. It very quickly descends into a war of attrition, the Knights start hitting but Haledon never misses, and oft times his attacks dish out a chunk of damage.

Farkill is swiftly relegated to back row, serving up the healing and failing repeatedly to land a ranged spell or weapon attack.

[DM Interlude- what edition are we playing again?]

Lucan is not going anywhere near this guy, excellent at scouting but a stranger to danger (or at least this sort of danger), he's content to guard the Priest of Moradin, and fling his daggers for piddling points of damage- a striker shorn of his power.

It happens of course, the Knights win through, but it takes much of everything, and even then Haledon is content to fling down his weapon and surrender, knowing full well that the information he holds, is the prize.

He bargains well, and the Knights are undone, Cathal particularly as he wants to quit Fallcrest as soon as he can and head after the enslaved citizens of the Vale. He's still grumbling about the rich folk bossing him around, that's ex-mercenaries for you.





Haledon, proves a difficult stain to remove.

[DM Interlude Encounter #54 [700 XP = Level 4] Haledon Human Fighter, leader of the Crimson Hand (Level 8 Elite Soldier) With a healthy AC of 25 and other defences to match Haledon proves difficult to shift.]

Haledon eventually agrees to be taken back to Fallcrest and into the custody of the Fallcrest Guard, only then- when he's safe from the Friday Knights, will he reveal the location of the 'foul witch who brewed up this plan.' His opening position was to be paid and then released- he gets knocked down however- with a hammer, and so softens his stance a little. 

The Knights agree but decide to take a little time to check out the rest of the Crimson Hand's lair, in search of pretty baubles to satisfy their greed (Lucan).

They quickly locate Latimer the Half-Orc Rogue's old room, and therein some half-finished bottles of Morrain Whisky, one of Rock's favourite tipples, it doesn't last long.

They also find a chest full of valuables and plenty of coin, and a magical shortsword- needless to say they've already confiscated Haledon's sword and armour.

Oh, and a Deathrattle Viper, which launches itself at Rock and has to be battered to a bloody pulp before it lets go. It was in Latimer's dirty laundry, as was the treasure.





Rock – Snake. Snake – Rock, A-ha-ha!

[DM Interlude Encounter #55 [200 XP = Level 1] Deathrattle Viper (Level 5 Brute).]

The Knights continue on... there are other chambers to check out.





The Crimson Hand leave their collective savings lying about for the Knights to collect.

Eventually the Knights end up in another bed chamber, this one holds an altar to some dark god; actually on examination the altar turns out to be dedicated to a Demon Lord called 'Crypticus', a deceitful brute fond of... well, deceit. Go figure!

Farkill swiftly brings his axe into play, soon after the altar is no more, and it is thus that the second chest stuffed with the ill-gotten gains of the Crimson Hand is found, including some Ritual Scrolls. Nice work!

Of the Priest there's no sign.





The altar looks at Farkill funny- you know what happens next.

Haledon is dragged into the chamber, he's now trussed up like an Erathismass Turkey, even he doesn't know where the Priest has gone, he hasn't been seen in days.

A further concerted search of the chamber...

[DM Interlude- they know there's a secret door there, I know there's a secret door there, now someone please tell the dice.]

Eventually Rock, “ah-hah, here it is”, finds it.

The Knights wrench open the heavy stone door and descend a set of well worn stairs into...

And that concludes session 16, the Knights amassed a total of 8908 XP all told, more next time.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:


> 'grett stugg' what language is that? What does it mean?




That's what comes of bad typing and not checking posts before you submit them. Obviously I meant to type "great StuG" meaning that your storyhour has an impact like an enormous motorised assault gun ... or ... something. 




> Where did I get Clem Statto from?




Actually now I check, I think my memory was conflating "Statto" from the Baddiel & Skinner fantasy football show and Mark "Clem" Clemmit, Radio 5 Live's lower leagues expert - so I have no idea: where did you get him from?


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 17- The Scions of Fallcrest Part 4 The Crimson Hand is broken, bring on the Witch!

In play this week we have the same players as not last week, but the week before-
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 3
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 4
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 3 (Level 4 after an Extended Rest)
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 2 (Level 3 after an Extended Rest)

[DM Interlude- I know it's not that great having a player, and his character, miss a session, and then suddenly reappear in the dungeon the week after. However, as frustrating as it is for me- from a narrative perspective, and because I sometimes include creatures/situations designed so that a single character may shine, or else make further sense of their backstory. As frustrating as it is for me, it's doubly so for Mike (Ignaran), who wants to play and therefore has to juggle a job and several time zones to get a game- dedicated like coconut that lad.]

And so the Knights, lead by Lucan, descend into a fresh hell, actually a fairly ancient looking cave, supported by four intricately carved pillars, depicting all manner of barbaric acts, some of which even Lucan has not yet thought of.

“Nice tilling!” Lucan admires the craftsmanship.

Leaping out from the darkness and shadows come a pair of miscreants, the first being our missing Priest, who actually doesn't leap that far - he settles for bobbing up from behind the altar ahead,  he blasts dark energy rays at the Knights, his name is Malek. He looks to have aged rapidly either that or Malek has joined the Undead throng. 

Perhaps Malek's recent conversion may have something to do with the second inhabitant of the chamber- Malicia, Deathlock Wight, and servant of Jezuel- an Exarch of Orcus, the Painbringer.

Either way the temperature drops a couple of notches as the pair attempt to necrotise the Knights to death.

Malek with his Necroblaze and Necrobolt attacks, and Malicia with her Gravebolt followed by flinging herself into the fray and ripping her face off- her Horrific Visage attack, which sends the majority of the Knights scuttling back the way they came in.

The Knights batter and blast, and finally get Malek to lie down, which doesn't last long however, Malicia quickly reanimates the Wight Priest, who bobs back up again, toting a grin to match Lucan's post-coital smile.

Once again the Knights have to reach deep, dailies get spent and eventually the two Undead are battered beyond submission and into pieces.






Stop Wight now thank you very much, I need somebody with a human touch!

[DM Interlude Encounter #56 [900 XP = Level 4] Malek, Wight Priest (Level 5 Elite Controller) & Malicia, Deathlock Wight (Level 6 Elite Controller). Nice encounter, got the Knights on the back foot.]

[DM Interlude- Cathal has enough XP to advance to 5th Level, and Farkill has enough XP to advance to 4th, after an Extended Rest.]

The foul temple to Jezuel is searched - the altar... goes without saying; the Knights discover all manner of foul trappings designed for the distribution of pain - all are destroyed, Lucan looks like he's going to cry at one point.

The Knights, satisfied that the place is decommissioned, move on- into Haledon's bed chamber, and what a nice chamber it is- the bed is very comfortable, Rock attests to this by going to sleep on it while the others search the place.

Lots of gold and valuables are found, including the missing items from the tomb robbery, the Dev'Shir grave goods- Cathal puts them aside to return to their rightful owners later. Haledon's diary is discovered, as are the (burnt) remains of correspondence between Haledon and the Witch. It's clear that whoever this woman is she means harm - not just to the Markelhay's, but to all of Fallcrest, the letters contain dire threats.

Rock locates a pile of gems and jewellery, stashed away in Haledon's pillow, he finds them when he wakes.

There's also a secret door that leads to a crumbling ancient passage which winds a little way, and then emerges into the light of day - a secret exit.





Haledon's comfy bed, g'night Rock.

Sated, the Knights head for home- Fallcrest, hand Haledon over to the authorities, at which point he spills the beans.

“The Witch calls herself Cadavra, she lives in a ramshackle ruin of a windmill- she's a big fan of the Undead.” Haledon warns and indicates how to get to the place.

The Knights meet with Eoffram Troyas, the councilman who set them on their way, get him up to speed with current events, hand over the Dev'Shir diamonds, (Lucan looks like he's going to cry again), and receive a good chunk of reward money- that's it, the Elf looks a little happier.

The Knights do a little light shopping in what remains of the day and then hit the hay, a hard earned Extended Rest is taken.

And so, rise-and-shine, the Knights are back.

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 4
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 4
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 4
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 3

And ready for more, they head straight out of the city and for the windmill, a couple of hours march.

“What are the scarecrows for?” Rock asks as the gang approach the place. There are three Scarecrows seemingly guarding the dilapidated windmill.
“The birds,” Ignaran counters and points to the flocking, swooping mass of Crows which are constantly trying to alight on one of the windmills turning sails.
“Not up to the job!” Rock harrumphs.

When the Knights get a little closer they learn why the Crows are swarming, the body of Latimer, the Half-Orc informer, is tethered to the sail in question- the Crows have made a mess of him.

“Do you think the flock of Crows did that?” Rock wonders aloud.
“Murder,” Lucan corrects.
“Really? What for? I mean what could he have possibly done to them?” Rock looks aghast.

The Scarecrows uproot themselves and come shambling forward, it's almost a relief when they do. The Crows form into a tight black bolus- a Murder, and descend on the Knights.

And just when the Knights think things can get no worse, the Scarecrows swatting at them with their scythes, or else sending them fleeing back with their spooky-eyed Deadlight attacks; with the Murder of Crows positioned over and around them- clawing and snapping at them; it gets worse.

A Lightning Bolt arcs out from a room with an open window at the top of the windmill, Icy Rays follow, then Magic Missiles pour down. 

It gets bloody, very bloody.

It's only when Lucan has the bright idea of getting as close as he can to the windmill, and out of range and sight of the magic flinging monster- whoever it is up top, that the Knights begin to turn the tide. All of the Knights manoeuvre out of sight and begin to smash away at the easier to hit, and see, enemies.





A Murder of (Scare)Crows.

[DM Interlude Encounter #57 [1250 XP = Level 6] Scarecrow x3 (Level 6 Soldier); Murder of Crows (Level 10 Skirmisher) & Cadavra (briefly). That shook them up a bit.]

Lucan, eager to get inside, finds a secret way in- only he doesn't tell the other Knights.

He stumbles into the darkened interior of the windmill, a 40-foot by 40-foot room cluttered with an array of metal and wooden gears, including a 15-foot-wide circular flywheel horizontal with the floor- the gears are in motion. The gears extend all the way up to the 25-foot-high ceiling, terminating at a shaft that disappears into the upper level. Beyond the gears, a pair of staircases can be discerned, one leading up, and the other leading down. Along the south wall is a 10-foot by 10-foot opening in the floor, with a massive boom and tackle mounted overhead. An elevator platform attached to the boom and tackle appears to be currently at the lower level.

A stomach-churning creature stands before the gear assembly. A lanky 12-foot-tall humanoid creature with pale-green, rotting flesh, and sporting horrific burn scars hefts a massive greataxe. The creature wears hide armour set with metal plates, and a battered helm partially covering its smashed skull. With an unnatural glow in its hate-filled eyes, the twisted mockery shambles forth.

Or so the module says, my Zombie Troll looks a little different.





Albert!

Lucan's self-preservation gene kicks in, the Rogue dances away from the great brute, climbing from gear to gear like some mad parkour enthusiast, all the time screaming like a little girl- blowing his cool instantly.

The Troll flails but can't get close, meanwhile the other four Knights alternatively try to discover  how Lucan got in so quickly and/or try to smash their way through the locked front door- something has to give, it proves to be the door.

The remainder of the Knights catch up, but not before the door explodes and sets Cathal on fire however, trapped- what they needed there was a good Rogue.

The fight gets bloody very quickly, particularly when Rock gets smashed for 29 damage and knocked Prone with the Trolls first attack, a Crit.- at long last.

The Knights however are smart cookies, Cathal at the core of the tactics, the Troll is knocked back into the gears of the mill, which make a real mess of the brute. When the creature finally extricates himself from the gear the Knights are at the ready again, the Troll then suffers the indignity of being pushed into the lift shaft- it uses its head to break the fall.

The Knights go silent, listening hard for any movement below.

“Bwaaaaynz” The Troll lisps and begins to flail about down below- clearly there's a little life left in the beast.

“Quick. Let's kill it!” Cathal states.

The only problem now is how to get safely down to the thing.

[DM Interlude Encounter #58 [1250 XP = Level 6] Zombie Troll (Level 8 Solo Brute). The thing is still not dead, it is however regenerating down below- but shhh! Don't tell the Knights this.]

[DM Interlude- it's at this point the gang notice a marked silence from Jack, who plays Lucan, later we will learn that he has consumed one too many beers and has fallen asleep on his keyboard- still from my perspective I like the new odds. 'Lucan is so terrified by the Undead Troll he chooses not to come down from his lofty perch', I state, the game goes on.]

Rock and Ignaran are all action, they find a grain shaft that leads below, the pair tumble down into darkness, only to find themselves in a different chamber altogether, a grain storage chamber- that figures; what's worse, they seem to have drawn the attention of a triumvirate of humanoid size spiders.

Meanwhile...

Cathal and Farkill, call the lift up, climb aboard and head back down into the basement proper- the new locale of the now almost completely regenerated Troll, there's just two of them to fight the thing- Rock and Ignaran being otherwise engaged.

[DM Interlude- in game it's a round of one fight then a round of the other, see who finishes first.]

Oddly the second time around the Troll proves to be a much easier prospect, this partially made possible by re-using the tactics that proved so adept above- the great brute finds itself a little while later wedged into the gear shaft, again; and shredded, again. The thing is taken down in style in less than a minute. Admittedly Cathal's arm is numb and Farkill has used both of his Healing Words on the Knight of Kord, but other than that- meh!

However, things hot up when Cadavra, the Witch the Knights came in search of, pops her head through a hatch in a door and blasts the two Knights with Icy Rays, Magic Missiles etc.





Say hello to the Witch.

This tactic is swiftly curtailed when she nearly gets her head taken off- this time it's Farkill who spills the natural 20 and makes a mess of the Witch, even through the hatch in the door. She retreats at speed, as the Zombie Troll climbs to his feet again using its Rise Again power. Cadavra is gone again.

The fight lumbers on, however the Troll has really lost his mojo now, once again it is Tide of Ironed back into the shredding blades of the gears, and then hacked to pieces.

[DM Interlude Encounter #59 [1600 XP = Level 9] Zombie Troll (Level 8 Solo Brute) & Cadavra, again, briefly.]

[DM Interlude- Rock now has enough XP for level 4, all he needs is an Extended Rest.]

Back in the grain storage chamber, Rock and Ignaran are taking their anger out on the Deathjump Spiders there, they're still fighting when Cathal and Farkill batter the Undead Troll for the second, scratch that, third time. The freed up pair follow the sounds of dwarven swear words and break into the grain storage to help out.





Where's the Troll?

At which point both Rock and Ignaran are bloodied and poisoned, with numbers on their side the Knights win the day- and rest a moment.

[DM Interlude Encounter #60 [750 XP = Level 4] Spider Deathjumper x3 (Level 6 Skirmishers).]

The body of a dead Elf, identity unknown, is located and thoroughly ransacked, the creature has a fine magical dagger and plenty of coin, the dagger's for Lucan, when he awakes.

And thus the 17th session of play draws to a close, Cadavra is in retreat and the Knights, although beaten, are far from broken; they've clocked up a whopping 14,038 XP between them this session- top play.


----------



## Goonalan

*The Friday Knights in Scions of Fallcrest (with Pics)*

The Friday Knights

Session 18- The Scions of Fallcrest Part 5 Abra-Cadavra

In play this week we have... well it's a funny one, we start playing at 7 every Friday, and by 7.30 we only have three players and no sign of the others- no-one is responding to e-mails or calls, so we decide to drop a few of the secondary players into the game. Our reasoning, it's going to get harder, and not easier.

Antaurea, Elven Ranger Level 3
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 4
Immeral, Eladrin Artificer Level 3
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 3 (Needs an Extended Rest for level 4)

[DM Interlude- damn the narrative, the continuity guy in the film adaptation is going to go nuts.]

The newly arrived Knights, dashing to the windmill straight from Fallcrest, instantly get to work- Lucan, let's say, is refusing to budge, and Farkill is staying with the terrified young Elven Rogue who wont come down to play.

Immeral quickly locates a hidden door, within the chamber Cadavra was recently hiding in, and blasting at the Knights.

The group follow a narrow rock, that's 'rock', not 'Rock', passage into darkness, and then on into a much larger natural cavern.

The larger cavern has a low stream running through it- the water's travelling at quite a lick, it doesn't look to be very deep however, on the far side of the chamber, illuminated briefly is Cadavra.

“Who are you bastards?” She screams, and drops a Fireball into the party's midst- which as intro's go, needs a little more work.

The results however are devastating, with all of the Knights caught in the flaming blast- Rock's very unhappy, he charges across the stream and buries his weapon in Cadavra. The Witch flees out of the chamber leaving Rock to contend with a Corruption Corpse in her place.

If that wasn't bad enough, a group of poorly hidden Zombies rise from the water and block the way- Rock is on his own with the foul undead creature.





Cadavra seems to be wearing a snood! Very fashionable, in 1987.

The Zombies, all of them, prove to be only a minor nuisance, the brutes in the river are knocked on their ass, smashed to pieces, decapitated and worse.

The Corruption Corpse up close is a far easier prospect than at range- Rock swiftly makes mush of him.

[DM Interlude Encounter #61 [1025 XP = Level 4] Zombie Corruption Corpse (Level 4 Artillery); Zombie x4 (Level 4 Brutes) & Cadavra (briefly).]

[DM Interlude- An hour and a half into the session, there's plenty of banter at the start of each week's play, that and time for catch-up and questions; and guess what, the missing two turn up- all change.]

In play we now have (ahem)-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Farkill, Dwarven Cleric of Moradin Level 4
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 4
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 4
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 3 (Needs an Extended Rest for level 4)

[DM Interlude- Immeral & Antaurea are sent back to the city, it seems Lucan is ready to move on, and Farkill is up for action. Either that or pretend the last bit didn't happen- what the hell, it's only a game.]

The Knights reconvene, Lucan smells treasure, he leads the gang up a second narrow passage and into what looks to be Cadavra's bed chamber.

Very tasteful, everything in here is valuable, she's clearly used to refinement, the furniture is worth over 1000gp easily.

Lucan also manages to locate the hidden pit trap, he dances back just in time, but not quick enough - a Skeletal Claw Swarm climbs out and begins to scratch at an itch the Elven Rogue didn't know he had. The Knights are quickly into action- it's a forgone conclusion, however they manage to get scratched enough to necessitate a Short Rest.





The chamber is empty... Scratch that!

[DM Interlude Encounter #62 [350 XP = Level 1] Skeletal Claw Swarm (Level 8 Brute). It's a crappy little monster but in conjunction with the trap and its ability to attack everyone adjacent to it- annoying.]

The Knights locate Cadavra's diary- she's as guilty as sin, if any further proof were needed, it's all here- written down. Her real name is Lakaisha Dev’shir (duh!), she's out for revenge- possibly locking her away in a sanatorium didn't go down very well; it also seems she has been creating a horde of undead. There are notes marking where in Fallcrest the monsters are hidden- ready to be unleashed upon the city. The Knights must work fast.

The Knights ready themselves and then head off in pursuit of Cadavra this time, the river is forded - easily, and the gang stomp their way through to the next chamber, no subtlety here.

Into a long thin chamber, lit by the dying embers from four squat braziers with ebony, charred surfaces. To the left and right are stone benches, each perhaps 10 feet long. In the centre of the chamber rests a cauldron of immense proportions. This massive pot is wrought from dull black iron, and stands on three short legs at nearly four feet high, with a diameter over three feet. Its outside surface is dimpled, and covered with infernal runes and pictograms involving the animation of a myriad of creatures. Surrounding the massive pot are a small horde (small horde- is that right? Like a 'little giant', maybe- oxymoron? No, not you) of Zombies, and a quartet of Vampire Spawn, all with glowing red eyes and bad make-up (like Rob Smith from the Cure, only slimmer). At the far end of the room, the murky stream lazily tumbles by (ah, that's nice- makes everything okay).

The Knights shuffle into action.





Is that soup?

The Zombie tide breaks against the Knights, Cathal and Rock are at the fore- smashing and bashing, the rest protected from the flailing Undead by the stolid, and solid, defenders. Did someone say 'doughty', oh yeah- it was me.

Her Fireball already used, Cadavra brings on a Lightning Serpent and frazzles Rock a little, who cooks in his tin-can armour, more Lightning Bolts follow- the air hums with electrical discharge. The back row of the Knights are not immune it seems.

It's slow progress, mixed in with the Zombie and Vampire Spawn Minions are a quartet of Zombie Warriors, made from sterner stuff (Improved Dead Flesh!), and in the bottle-neck they manage to hold the Knights up; or at least give Cadavra some extra time to zap them with her spells.

The Undead creatures also seem to lack their usual vulnerability to Radiant attacks- Farkill is  out of luck, and has to content himself with healing the other Knights and delivering the odd blast here and there.

Eventually Cathal and Rock break the line, and not even Cadavra's Blur spell, followed by a swift Dimension Door, are enough to get her out of the mess she's in.

The poor Witch is eventually chased down and knocked unconscious, all the way back in the basement of the windmill; with the Knights running after her like a gaggle of axe-wielding schoolchildren. 

Ding! Dong! The Witch is... well not dead, just knocked unconscious and made uncomfortable- hog-tied.

[DM Interlude Encounter #63 [2052 XP = Level 9] Zombie Rotter x4 (Level 3 Minions); Vampire Spawn x4 (Level 5 Minions); Zombie x4 (Level 2 Brutes) & Cadavra (Level 11 Elite Controller).]

The windmill is thoroughly ransacked, searched from top to bottom, Lucan gets to trigger a Glyph of Warding in the process, he's only a little singed by the experience. Latimer's body is recovered, after a bit of uncoordinated clambering. 

The Cauldron in the final chamber radiates strong necrotic magic; the Knights take it, and anything else they can find of worth, including the missing brick taken from the Dev'Shir tomb and haul ass back to the city- Cadavra in tow, beaten back into unconsciousness. You can't be too careful.

A little while later the truth is told- Cadavra, that is Lakaisha Dev’shir, the oldest of the Dev'shir sisters was destined to marry the Lord Markelhay, assured from birth of her place in society.  Her cruel and spiteful acts however resulted in the death of a servant of House Dev'shir, which was hushed up, Lakaisha was sent away- condemned to a life of misery, destiny denied.

How she escaped is another story, another story that the Knights don't bother to enquire about, which is a shame because I had a whole plot point ready and waiting.

[DM Interlude- She escaped with the help of a Necromancer called Paldemar, an adherent of Orcus, who taught her all that she knows. Still the Knights will catch up with Paldemar soon enough.]

The hidden caches of undead scattered about the city are easily routed, the Knights take time off and leave the legwork to the stout members of the Fallcrest Guard.  There are few casualties, and no deaths, although numerous undeaths- the undead creatures discovered are almost exclusively shambling minions.

The Cauldron turns out to be an artefact called the Cauldron of Illserves, the cudgel that Cadavra wielded is the stirrer cum spoon for the device- the set is complete; the item is a foul creation, capable of birthing undead creatures from its bubbling stew. It is sent away for study by Nimozaran, with an eye to finding some way to destroy it in the future.

The Knights receive their just rewards, which alas does not include a meeting with Lady Markelhay, she is said to possess an unearthly beauty, Lucan complains vociferously.

Quest done, the world back on its axis, the Knights head out to do a little, scratch that, a lot of shopping, which proves to be slightly more arduous than normal, they're attacked mid-shop.

Ignaran and Lucan are minding their own business when two Swarms of Shadow Bats descend from the evening sky, picking the pair out from the now-screaming crowd. Not even Lucan has time to see who is orchestrating the attack before he's thrust into the maelstrom.

Ignaran summons his Onyx Dog to help him deal with the creatures- see picture below for the humour in this.





Ignaran's ravaging hound from hell- Mrs. Fluffykins.

[DM Interlude- Mike (Ignaran) knew I had done a token for his Onyx Dog, he just hadn't seen it till now- not happy, I proposed to introduce a sterner looking 'hound from hell' to coincide with each advance in level for the Druid. He seemed placated. Heh-heh, now to find pictures of other suitably feeble dogs.]

The Bat Swarms are easily defeated, the two Knights seem to think that they have been sent some sort of warning- how right they are.

[DM Interlude Encounter #64 [150 XP = Level 1] Shadow Bat Swarm (Level 3 Lurker).]

[DM Interlude- very improvised maps for this and the next encounter, they weren't planned.]

Elsewhere in the big city the other three Knights are going about their business when, you guessed it, they're also attacked- swooping from the heavens come a troupe of Spiretop Drakes. The Knights get all swatty. 

The Drakes are dealt with easily; Cathal, Rock and Farkill reach the same conclusion as the previous pair- they're being warned by somebody.

[DM Interlude- mission accomplished.]





Duck! No, Drake.

[DM Interlude Encounter #65 [700 XP = Level 6] Spiretop Drake x7 (Level 1 Skirmishers).]

Shopping done, the Knights get their wish - an audience with Lord & Lady Markelhay - which turns out to be polite but fairly short and to the point.  The Knights are basically given a list of things they must accomplish- alongside offers of generous rewards. It's all very business like, perhaps save for the smile of the Lady Markelhay, which could melt even stone hearts.

There's only one interruption to the proceedings, when Lucan states that a kiss from Lady Markelhay would be reward enough for him.

[DM Interlude- he's a lying bastard, if that was true he should try to stop stealing the other Knights possessions for a session or two.]

The list of outstanding Quests at the moment goes a little like this-

1.Eoffram Troyas wants the good citizens of Fallcrest, captured by the Bloodreavers in their dastardly attack on the city, returned... still.

2.Lord Padraig, of Winterhaven, also wants his citizens back... still.

3.Valthruin the Prescient, of Winterhaven, wants the Knights to discover what happened to the Minotaur inhabitants of Thunderspire Labyrinth a century ago.

4.Lord Markelhay wants every last one of the Bloodreaver scum crushed- destroyed.

5.Lady Markelhay also wants the citizens of the Nentir Vale returned to their loved ones, for which she promises a kiss.

6.Nimozaran, the High Septarch of Fallcrest (Big Wizard) wants a locked box delivering to Gendar, a Drow Merchant, in a place called the Seven Pillared Hall in Thunderspire. The Drow will give over some items for return.

7.Next, Nimozaran gives the Knights back the Rod of Ruin and the Cauldron of Illserves- they must find the Forge of the Mountain King, hidden within Thunderspire Labyrinth, and use the forge there to unmake the foul artefacts.

So, not much to do then.

“So we're carrying all the cool bad stuff back into the lair of big bad evil Bloodreavers? I just want to get this right in my head...” Cathal begins before getting ushered out of the audience with the Lord and Lady.

[DM Interlude- after the negotiations Ignaran now has enough XP to gain level 5.]

And so the eighteenth session of play draws to a close, the third module, Dungeon Crawl Classics #54 Scions of Punjar (Fallcrest) has been completed. This session the brave Knights have amassed a total of 9490 XP between them. 

Next time, more of this kind of thing.


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## Richard Rawen

“So we're carrying all the cool bad stuff back into the lair of big bad evil Bloodreavers? I just want to get this right in my head...” Cathal begins before getting ushered out of the audience with the Lord and Lady.

... yeah - what he said! 

Still here, still really enjoying your story 

Wanted to wish you all a belated Merry Christmas, and on to the Happy New Year!


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## Goonalan

*The Friday Knights en route to Thunderspire (with Pics)*

Thanks Richard, much appreciated, and now- some more...

The Friday Knights

Session 19- On the road to Thunderspire.

Final preparations for the journey are made, Cathal looks out the shrine to Kord, makes a few friends there and does a heap of praying. He delegates Eruan to shop for a bunch of cloaks and other stuff, basically ways to disguise the Knights while they're on the road to Thunderspire.

The other Knights say farewell to friends, acquaintances, and generally other people's significant others- I'm looking at you Lucan. 

And so the Knights hit the road and are en route for Thunderspire, actually first stop is a place called Haven Inn, it marks the point where the Trade Road meets the Road to Thunderspire. The Knights are looking forward to good clean beds and an ale or two before they have to plunge into the depths.

But for now it's trail rations and camping out.

In play this week we have-

Aeolace Eladrin Wizard Level 2 
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 4
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 4

[DM Interlude- Aeolace the Fire Starter is back!]

The Knights are barely out of the city when it all gets a little tasty, by which I mean violent, they're ambushed- fortunately the guys doing the ambushing are city folk, it's not what they're used to out in the country, still...

Nine ragged ass Humans leap out and attempt to do for the Knights, none of the fine fellows are particularly skilled with a blade, all however are up to their neck in dutch courage (booze). There's lots of shouting and gesticulating but hardly a scratch on the Knights.

The Humans however are falling like flies, they serve briefly as a diversion, three Halfling Thieves, well-concealed in the foliage, more than make their mark on the Knights- if there were more of them it would be a tough fight. As it is, the Human Rabble and Lackeys fall all too quickly, the Halflings are soon exposed to attacks, and suffer for it.

The Halflings realise they are outmatched and do the only honourable thing left- flee.

None of them get away, actually two are killed, the third- Twinky is captured.





A gentle stroll in the country is rudely interrupted.

[DM Interlude Encounter #66 [903 XP = Level 4] Human Rabble x6 (Level 3 Minion), Human Lackey x3 (Level 7 Minion) & Halfling Thief x3 (Level 3 Skirmishers).]

Twinky is quickly made to see the error of her wanton ways, it's Lucan doing the persuading, and with a dagger in his hand.  It seems she is late of the employ of Gwladys Protheroe- that name seems familiar, the Halfling Crime Lord with a grudge against our heroes (mostly Lucan).

She is now however in the employ of the Friday Knights, the pay is terrible, the hours are worse but at least she gets to stay alive. Twinky is to head back to Fallcrest and spread the word that the Knights were victorious here, and will be coming back in a little while. 

The Knights also learn that the nine, now dead, men that fought alongside the Halflings were gathered from the dockside bars of Fallcrest, plied with ale and then sent to fight- not warriors then. Is this the best that Gwladys can muster? 

The Knights press on, spend an uncomfortable night in the wilds, in which nothing much happens.

[DM Interlude- except on Lucan's watch when a few purses get a little lighter, he loves playing with fire our Rogue, call it shrinkage.]

Rock is on last watch, and has eagle-eyes it seems, normally his perception roll is something a little below ten, he rolls an adjusted 23- damn him. Rock spots movement in the bushes surrounding the camp- bellows and kicks at his friends, and then charges off into the early morning mist.

His charge leaves him face-to-face with a thin, and older, Human in robes, with a piece of tinsel on his hat- must be a Wizard. He smashes the erudite looking fellow, who sits down and looks very hurt.

Screams abound as more than a dozen other Bandits and Rabble close in on the waking Knights, armed, but without their heavy armour, the Knights leap up to meet them.

It's a massacre, the Wizard doesn't even get a spell off, the Knights don't hold back- dailies get spent and a good portion of the interlopers are swiftly set on fire- Aeolace says play with matches kids.

Only one of them is left alive- and he's grabbed, the Knights are getting good at this kind of thing.





Could it be Magic? NO!

[DM Interlude Encounter #67 [1704 XP = Level 7] Human Rabble x8 (Level 3 Minions), Human Bandit x8 (Level 3 Skirmishers) & Bangcock, Human Mage (Level 5 Artillery).]

The camp is secured, the bodies searched and the last man surviving gives up a few details, and then is put to the sword- there's friendly. They're Bloodreavers, and they've been looking for the Knights. It seems the Bloodreavers' management wants the Knights dead.

The Knights sleep in a while, with watches reset, to make up for the break in their rest, breakfast well and then head off again.

[DM Interlude- the maps for the remainder of this session, and most all of next week were alas lost in the great Computer Crash of '08, sorry.]

The Knights push on, having lost time earlier in the day, they march on into the early evening, the Haven Inn is their next stop, but what's this.

Screaming from the road ahead, an ambush is prepared- down the track come a pair of fleeing humans, workers by the look of their clothes, possibly bar staff- the pair are being chased by a pair of Grey Wolves.

The fight is over very quickly, the Wolves barely have chance to register their alarm.

[DM Interlude Encounter #68 [250 XP = Level 1] Grey Wolf x2 (Level 2 Skirmishers).]

“They're coming!” Young Toby screams and points back down the road, and sure enough they are indeed coming, a rag-tag bunch of ne'er-do-wells.
“The Inn has been taken!” Maggie the second human yells and dives for cover.

Which just leaves the Knights facing a horde of Goblinoids- fourteen of them in total, and they're closing fast.

It gets bloody very quickly, and fiery a little before the bloody bit- Aeolace's Scorching Blast catches seven targets first time round, and five in the second volley.

From there Cathal and Rock charge into the hoard, Ignaran goes for area effects and keeps those not on fire either entangled or else otherwise pre-occupied.

Lucan picks off the stragglers, initially from a distance.

It works like a dream, the Bloodreavers, yep more of 'em, are decimated, and are not given the chance to surrender- someone's pressed the red button, the Knights are out for blood.

Only one Goblin Sharpshooter gets away, although two Goblin Blackblades are shoved into a fast running river and are not heard from again.

The Skullcleaver Goblin leader is shredded.

[DM Interlude Encounter #69 [1437 XP = Level 6] Goblin Cutter x4 (Level 2 Minions); Hobgoblin Grunts x2 (Level 4 Minions); Goblin Blackblades x2 (Level 2 Lurkers); Goblin Sharpshooter x3 (Level 3 Artillery); Hobgoblin Soldiers x2 (Level 4 Soldiers) Goblin Skullcleaver (Level 4 Brute).]

Maggie and Toby supply the full story, the Haven Inn has been attacked, taken- a bunch of Bloodreavers lead by a fellow called Skave the Sly, a notorious villain in these parts; it seems his merry band are now taking Bloodreaver coin. 

[DM Interlude- some of the details of this mini-adventure/interlude came courtesy of a free 4E adventure called, I believe, “The Blue Mountain Inn”- it must be about somewhere... It's very nice, or at least served my purpose.]

The Friday Knights head a mile down the road to the Inn and approach cautiously.

The place is a mess, a high walled courtyard surrounds the Inn building, an old stone weathered two storey affair with a connected stable. The large gate to the courtyard shows signs of damage, and is wide open. The sounds of merriment and song come from within- Goblin voices.

Lucan is sent a little ahead, he reports back in a short while, the bar is packed with Goblins who are making free with the ale and behaving indecorously with the captured serving staff.

Cathal gets very angry very quickly- there's no real plan, just a firm belief in 'Might being Right', the Knights charge into the Inn's common room and set about bringing justice to the humanoid scum.

The Goblins situated here a mostly Cutters, they don't last long.  However there's a Bugbear asleep, not for long, under a table, he wakes and evens up the numbers- then it, of course, gets worse.

A moment later a Goblin appears from a storeroom clutching a crate of wine bottles, taking in the situation he leaps atop the bar and begins to fling the bottles at the Knights- the Goblin Bottlebrigade has arrived.

He doesn't last long it must be said- Aeolace sets him on fire- BANG! He takes out a couple more of the Goblins in the explosion.

The Knights are still cutting through the Bloodreavers in double quick time, but the noise is attracting others to the fracas, a bulky Human Berserker emerges from the kitchen, clutching his head- hung-over, he has a pet Guardian Drake- Cathal moves to intercept the pair.

It gets worse still, a trio of Spiretop Drakes, previously warming themselves by the fire flutter into the chamber- it's getting pretty chaotic in the bar.

The back door of the Inn opens and rushing in comes a second Bugbear Warrior, the first alas has already shuffled off this mortal coil, he screams something unintelligible and joins the scrap.

And, as if the above wasn't bad enough, Big Lesley arrives.

Big Lesley is an Ogre, he was sleeping off the results of a monstrous drinking session with the Human Berserker in the stable, it's a shame the Knights didn't take the time to have a look in there before charging in.

And then we run out of time, the Knights are surrounded, three of the five are bloodied, still standing for the bad guys are- a lone Goblin Cutter (how'd he stay alive?), two Spiretop Drakes, the Guardian Drake, the Human Berserker, the Bugbear Warrior and Big Lesley- still it gives the Knights plenty to aim at.

[DM Interlude- note at the end of this fracas, and after an Extended Rest Aeolace will have enough XP for Level 3, and Lucan enough for Level 5- that's if they get through it.]

Session 19 draws to a close, the Knights have accumulated 10,527 XP between them, and Aeolace is back, Paul who plays him has got a free pass from his wife it seems, he's allowed back out to play with his strange internet friends.

More of this sort of thing next time.


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## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 20- Thunderspire here we come...

Still in the midst of the fracas in the Haven Inn bar with the Bloodreavers, we only have four players in action, initially, this week.

In play this week-

Aeolace Eladrin Wizard Level 2 (needs an Extended Rest for Level 3)
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 4 (needs an Extended Rest for Level 5)

Farkill, or rather Zoran who plays Farkill will be in-game in a short while, as soon as he gets done with work- the bane of any civilised society. Rock is missing presumed on holiday.

And so the fight goes on, another of the Spiretop Drakes bites the dirt, the last of them smashes its way through a window and flutters off into the closing night, possibly with a message to deliver.

“Damn!” Cathal swears and cuts down the hung-over Human Berserker, the Guardian Drake follows soon after.

Shinto, one of the Inn's bar staff, is caught up in one of Aeolace's fiery blasts and slumps to the floor- the Eladrin Wizard makes amends, he teleports over to the dying man, and makes good with his Healing check, saving Shinto's life- although he did set him on fire in the first place, which karma wise makes him about even.

The Bugbear Warrior sees which way the wind is blowing and makes a break for freedom, back the way he came into the Inn's vegetable patch and over the wall- he gets as far as the wall when Lucan's dagger locates the spot between his shoulder blades, and ends him.

Big Lesley likewise sees the sense in retreat, the exit to the Inn is blocked by Ignaran and the Ogre is engulfed in a swarm of stinging insects- courtesy of the Druid. He therefore tries the second option, to smash his way through the front window of the Inn, taking a little of the wall with him in the attempt, alas he gets wedged.

And is quickly slain.

Ruda, another member of the Inn's bar staff, emerges from her hiding place- gulps and looks at the destruction, she faints away, but is soon revived by a leering Lucan who gropes her a little- but has a winning smile.

[DM Interlude Encounter #70 [2005 XP = Level 9] Goblin Cutter x5 (Level 2 Minions); Drake Spiretop x3 (Level 1 Lurkers); Goblin Blackblade (Level 2 Lurker); Goblin Bottlebrigade (Level 2 Artillery); Drake Guardian (Level 2 Brute); Goblin Sharpshooter (Level 3 Artillery); Human Berserker (Level 4 Brute); Bugbear Warrior x2 (Level 6 Soldiers) & Ogre Savage (Level 8 Brute). Nice! My players seem to think I have this thing about starting a fight with a bunch of Minions and some others and then keep drawing in other combatants every round- saving the nastiest to last,  my secret is out.]

[DM Interlude- just a brief note to remind you that we are still without maps, this due to the Great Computer Crash, and the Failure To Back Up Debacle of 08- I have been warned.]

“Quick. Lola's upstairs- the Goblins have her!” Shinto cries and points to a set of stairs in the kitchen that lead to the Innkeeper's quarters.

“Where's the 'keep?” Cathal frowns.

Shinto points to a second set of stairs to the common and private sleeping chambers.

“More Goblins?” Cathal grimaces.

Shinto nods.

“The fightback begins now, we must rescue the woman first- Lucan.”

Lucan leads the Knights up the stairs in the kitchen, to a door, and peeks within- he looks back at the Knights, ashen faced.

“They're...” Lucan can't find the words.

There's quite a racket coming from the chamber, the Knights storm in to see what manner of debauchery is being perpetrated on the innocent wench.

[DM Interlude- at this point Farkill turns up, yeah... the narrative, but hey-ho, it's just a game.]

In play this week (amended)-

Aeolace Eladrin Wizard Level 2 (needs an Extended Rest for Level 3)
Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 4
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 4 (needs an Extended Rest for Level 5)

The Goblins are mid-pillow-fight, five on to one, Lola, actually the beautiful Lola, is losing badly, but seems not to have suffered too much harm, although her clothes have been pulled about and loosened in the exertions- Lucan springs to attention.

“I'll save you fair maiden.” He declares and stabs a Goblin Skullcrusher, armed with a pillow, in the back.
“Brave sir Knight- would you?” Lola declares.
“Indeed I would.” Lucan adds with a smirk.

It kicks off, and in close quarters, two of the Goblins are Sharpshooters, although they're having problems making use of their bows in the cramped conditions. The other three Goblins are Skullcrushers, and when they finally grab their axes and hammers are more than a match for the Knights.

Fortunately for the Knights the surprise round works well for them, one of each variety of Goblin are taken down. The remaining three Goblins get some good hits in but it's only a matter of time- their screams soon abate.  

The noise fortunately is little different from the cacophony coming from the chamber before the Knights arrival.

[DM Interlude Encounter #71 [825 XP = Level 3] Goblin Sharpshooters x2 (Level 3 Artillery) & Goblin Skullcrushers x3 (Level 4 Brutes).]

Lola is safe and sound, and in the arms of Lucan- why wouldn't she be? Farkill however is a little jealous- Lucan always gets the girl, “where are all the Dwarven women?” He barks.
“They've taken them to Thunderspire!” Lola exclaims.
“The Derriere Girls, a group of exotic dancers, they were staying at the Inn, en route to Fallcrest. Skave 'as got them.” Lola adds.
“Then I shall not rest until the Derriere Girls are free!” Farkill declares, to general agreement, then rearranges his underwear.

“Next.” Cathal declares, and the Knights move over to the second set of stairs, and up, Lucan again taking the lead.

Through a door the Elven Rogue spies into a larger windowed sleeping quarters, seven beds, there's what looks to a private room over the far side.

Four Goblins, with bows- more Sharpshooters, they're creating quite a stir- they seem to be having some sort of competition- who can bounce the highest on the beds, straining to touch the ceiling of the chamber.

“Play time's over!” Cathal erupts into the chamber, grabs the nearest in-flight Sharpshooter, and shoves the creature through and out of a window, it's a fifteen foot fall, he wins the competition, and yet fails to collect his prize.

The rest of the Knights charge into the fray, in the initial onslaught another Goblin is slain- which just leaves two, and the dangerous looking Bugbear that has just heaved himself out of the linen cupboard.

Oh and the pair of Blackfang Gnoll Marauders that arrive from the private bedchamber over the far side- the odds become evens.

The Bugbear manages to get his hands around Cathal's neck, begins to throttle the Knight of Kord. The Gnolls are caught in Aeolace's fiery blast, but emerge unconcerned and smash into the Knights.

It gets bloody, the Goblin Sharpshooters eventually recover their bows and scatter into a corner, trying to edge behind the Gnolls for protection. Lightning bursts from Ignaran's hand and engulfs the Bugbear Strangler, Cathal works himself free, turns quickly and cuts the creature down.

Lucan locates the back of one of the Gnoll Maruaders- the creature doesn't last long. Farkill meantime has made his way over to the Goblin Sharpshooters and is instructing them in the ways of Moradin, via the medium of axe.

The last Gnoll Maruader and the pair of Goblin Sharpshooters don't last long, and none are given the option of surrender, the final Sharpshooter flings himself through a window and falls to his death.

The fight is over, Cathal and Farkill are bloodied, Ignaran injured, Lucan and Aeolace are without hurt- the Knights catch their collective breath.

[DM Interlude Encounter #72 [1350 XP = Level 6] Goblin Sharpshooters x4 (Level 3 Artillery); Bugbear Strangler (Level 6 Lurker) & Gnoll Marauder x2 (Level 6 Brutes).]

Gingerly, the Innkeeper- Darley, shuffles out of the private bedchamber, spots the Knights- who are now scavenging from the dead, and asks “is it safe?”

Cathal nods, grins- a little disconcerting, and then motions for Darley to come over.

“We are the Friday Knights, we have come to save your Inn.” The Knight of Kord declares.
“Er... Good!” Darley declares and ushers his terrified family into the room.

A little while later, with restorative drinks in hand by the fire, Darley's story is told- the Bloodreaver's, actually Skave the Sly's Goblin gang, attacked the Inn yesterday, quickly took everyone prisoner and marched the Inn's guests to Thunderspire - Darley heard him say something about 'slaves'. Cathal doesn't look very happy- “this would never have happened if we had got here sooner, bloody tomb robbers.”

Darley shrugs and goes on, the guests at the Inn were a group of exotic dancers, “The Derriere Girls”, bound for Fallcrest- five in number; and Randall Halfmoon, a traveller/merchant/trader and some-time innkeep, his family have a trading house in Fallcrest and an Inn in the Seven Pillared Hall in Thunderspire.

Darley goes on to explain that the Seven Pillared Hall is the hub of Thunderspire mountain, where merchants from the Nentir Valley go to trade with the denizens of the Underdark, and the Labyrinth.

Darley also states that Randall, the Halfling, had a small cloaked and odd sounding companion with him...

Darley offers to pay for the rescue of his guests, it wouldn't do for people to find out that the Haven Inn wasn't a safe place to stay- Cathal in turn promises to return the Inn's guests safe to the Haven.

One last thing, Darley states- “Skave is coming back for us.”
“Then we'd better prepare a reception!” Cathal finishes, a twinkle in his eye.

The Knights get to work, repairing the main gate, dragging tables up against the windows for cover, barricading the doors, making the Inn ready for the attack, and working out their plan.

The night passes- slowly, nothing stirs.

That is, until the first mists of morning...

The first the Knights know of the attack is the volley of arrows that comes from the three Goblin Sharpshooters that have already clambered into the Inn's courtyard.

Less than ten seconds later a Hobgoblin Soldier lands hard on the ground before the gate, inside the courtyard, is bathed for a second in Aeolace's scorching blast, and yet still has the wherewithal to get to his feet and lift the bar.

The gate swings open to reveal a bellowing, heavily armoured Hobgoblin Subcommander who unleashes a pair of Dire Wolves into the compound- !

An Ogre follows behind.

It gets nasty.

During this time Aeolace and Lucan, located in the common bedchamber on the first floor, pepper the invaders with flung daggers, which alas have a limited range, and from the Wizard- Magic Missiles and Scorching Blasts.

The result of which is... Nothing much, burns and minor wounds.

The invaders are at the door, the pair of Dire Wolves snapping and snarling through the Inn's broken front window at the Knights swatting away from behind the upturned tables within.

The attackers are very organised

Which was neither expected nor desired.

A cumulation of hits does for two of the Goblin Sharpshooters, the third alas has made its way round to the upper bedchamber and smashed his way in- the Goblin faces off against Lucan as Aeolace continues to bathe the Dire Wolves and Ogre below in flame.

One of the Dire Wolves finally has had enough, swathed in black smoke from its singed and scorched fur it howls, turns tail and scarpers. The respite afforded is short lived, the Hobgoblin Subcommander with two Hobgoblin Soldiers arrive to fill the gap, just as the Ogre finally smashes the front door of the Inn down- the Hobgoblins dash in.

The first Soldier, already badly wounded, is instantly cut down; the other two are bottle-necked in the doorway by Cathal and Ignaran, who are defending desperately.

The Ogre, having smashed down the door, brings his hammer into play against the already crumbling stone around the window of the Inn, enlarging- rapidly, the hole made by his brother Ogre's earlier attempt to flee the Inn.

And as if that wasn't bad enough the rear door of the Inn is shoved open, a pair of Goblin Sharpshooters scatter into the common room and fire- Shinto, saved earlier by Aeolace, takes an arrow to the throat and dies in a gurgling heap. 

Tabor, Darley the Innkeep's eldest son, is hit also- he takes slightly longer to expire.

Stepping through the back door of the Inn is the ugliest, meanest looking Goblin the Knights have ever see.

“Morning. Nice day for it.” Skave declares, in faultless common, and shoots Cathal in the midriff with his Hand Crossbow, the Knight of Kord grimaces, and pulls the bolt out, noting the icky-brown paste smeared on the shaft- he's been poisoned.

“I'll go.” Ignaran declares, and charges off towards Skave- which even at the time Cathal thinks is odd.

En route to Skave, Ignaran completes his transformation, he's a great growling, swatting, swiping and biting Bear by the time he reaches the stunned Goblin trio.

Farkill meanwhile is holding back the Dire Wolf and the Ogre through the breach, and has so far dodged every attack that has come his way.

Upstairs Lucan finally kills the Goblin Sharpshooter he was tangling with, not before he is bloodied however. The Rogue nods, grins at Aeolace, and then points to the stairs- he heads down, sticking to the shadows, and emerges behind Skave- serendipity.

Skave is contending with Ignaran in Bear form, one of his Sharpshooter buddies has already been reduced to a bloody mess- Ignaran having bitten the top off the Goblin's skull.

Lucan's dagger emerges through Skave's sternum, quite a feat, the Bloodreaver employee, gulps hard and looks down, blood fills his boots.

He pulls himself off the blade, and disappears.

Leaving a solitary Goblin Bloodreaver to face the music, he tries to surrender - he doesn't get far - Bears generally don't take prisoners.

Back upstairs Aeolace bathes the Dire Wolf and Ogre combo in the fourth or fifth of his Scorching Blasts- the last Dire Wolf turns and runs, straight into the stable wall, its legs go from under it and it splays onto the cobbled courtyard, and smoulders- dead.

The Ogre has other ideas, it looks up briefly, waves an angry fist at the out of reach Wizard and steps into the common room of the Inn- through the wall, pushing Farkill and the tables back in the process.

The Ogre rages, turns circle once, its hammer smashing anything it can reach in the circuit, then stops and rages some more.

Farkill, half-hidden under a table, steps out and slices his axe through the Ogre's right leg- clean through, the creature topples and falls head first into the banked fire- Farkill heaves again and sinks his axe into the huge brute's chest.

Cathal meanwhile has hacked his way through the second Hobgoblin Soldier and is working his way through the Subcommander, holding the doorway, preventing the humanoid from getting into the Inn proper.

The back door is flung back open and a trail of blood staggers out of the Inn, the invisible Skave beats a hasty retreat, Lucan follows after, judges the distance well and flings his dagger, which connects with... something.

Skave flickers into sight, clutching at the dagger in his chest, scrabbles backwards and is hit by a Magic Missile courtesy of Aeolace on the upper floor.

Lucan's dagger disappears and reappears in his hand. Lucan looks around, morning is breaking, the sun's rays peep over the palisade wall surrounding the Inn, illuminating the vegetable patch, the intricately carved outhouse and the well.

“You're right, it's a lovely day.” He grins.

Then he rushes forward and delivers a low blow, a very low blow, to Skave- the Goblin staggers back some more- screaming, hits the lip of the well and...

Sploosh!

Ends his days.

Lucan's dagger reappears in his hand.

The last of the invaders, the Hobgoblin Subcommander doesn't get far, he's cut down by a bloodied and battered Cathal half way across the Inn's courtyard, heading for the exit at speed.

Then silence.

[DM Interlude- the reports (whatchyer readin' now), need a little more spice, I'm going to try to write up one fight or significant moment per turn from here on in, or at least add a little more detail when I have time.]

[DM Interlude- Ignaran has finally ported over his Druid from Expeditious Retreat's Advanced Player's Guide to the WOTC version- I know which he prefers. Ignaran loves his Bear-form, as do the other Knights.]

[DM Interlude Encounter #73 [2900 XP = Level 10, just short of Level 11] Goblin Sharpshooter x5 (Level 3 Artillery); Hobgoblin Subcommander (Level 3 Controller); Hobgoblin Soldier x2 (Level 4 Soldiers); Dire Wolf x2 (Level 6 Skirmishers); Ogre Savage (Level 8 Brute) & Skave the Slay, Goblin Bloodreaver Bandit Chieftain (Level 9 Elite Lurker). What a corker- the players, and me, loved it.] 

The Inn is safe, although a little - make that a lot- battered.

However Darley is inconsolable, as are his family- the death of Tabor, and Shinto.

Eventually things calm down a little, the Knights rest up- Farkill gets a footrub from the beautiful Lola, and pointedly grins at Lucan throughout.

Ten hours later the Knights depart, although Lucan has first to be found, he finally emerges from the outhouse with Lola, both of them toting wonky grins.

Farkill looks crestfallen.

The Knights are soon en route to Thunderspire, the only incident of note, a sharp whispered cry from Lucan which causes all of the Knights to dash for cover.  A little while later, a pair of Gargoyles sweep overhead, heading down the road towards the Haven Inn, possibly looking for some one or thing.

Cathal debates turning back, but their course is set- the Knights, still weary, trudge on.

[DM Interlude- the pictures are back.]





Duck and Cover!

A little over five hours later the Knights arrive at the entrance to Thunderpsire, and what an entrance...





“I can't reach the bell”, Farkill declares.

Ignaran drops to the ground, collapses- his friends grab for him, the Druid seems to be experiencing some sort of seizure.  Cathal notes Ignaran has the Rod of Ruin clutched in his hands- he wrestles the foul device from his grip, Ignaran's eyes flicker open.

“I have seen... things.” He gasps.

A little later Ignaran relays his vision-

“A whole host of Demons and Undead- an army of the foul creatures- pouring into the depths of  Thunderspire.  Slain Minotaur Guards scattered on the cold bloody ground, the general of the army, I saw it all through his eyes, raised high on a palanquin, in the midst of the death-bringing demonic host. An invasion.”

Ignaran shudders.

“Wheeeeow” Farkill whistles, "have you seen the carvings in here, makes me proud to be a Dwarf.”

Aeolace catches up with Farkill, “Minotaur, not Dwarven.” The Wizard corrects.
“Oh. Oh, in that case- average.” Farkill stomps off- under the mountain.

The passage is some thirty feet wide, and possibly the same tall, every 100 or so feet paired statues of great bull-headed axe-wielding creatures- Minotaurs, each thirty feet tall.

The passage continues on, descends into the deep dark, for miles seemingly- the Knights, a little awed, have arrived.

Three hours later, very tired, and much less awestruck, they hear sounds- familiar sounds, a confrontation- raised Goblin voices, the noise is coming from a side passage in the tunnel, it's clear someone is in trouble.

The Knights investigate, sure they'll find what they're looking for- a fight.

And so endeth the 20th session of play, the Knights have accumulated 13,654 XP between them.

Next time... bit the next.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 21- Witch way to Thunderspire.

Once again another change of personnel, life intrudes some more on our ability to game.

In play this week we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 4
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 4

[DM Interlude- yep, Rock's back and Aeolace is gone again- don't ask me, I only DM the game.]

The Knights head along the darkened passage to a chink of light, as quietly as they can, with Lucan out in front- through the half-open door the young Elven Rogue spies five Hobgoblins, one robed, four Soldiers, all menacing a Halfling- must be Randall Halfmoon. Beside Randall, on the floor is a sack... no, the sack has legs, an unconscious form- the cloaked mysterious friend of Randall's from the Inn.

Lucan relays the news.

Coarse laughter and guttural voices cause the Knights to collectively inch forward to the door- peer within. To see for themselves.

A rough voiced Hobgoblin, speaking Common, says, “You’re ours now, halfling.”
“We’ll easily get ten gold for you!” another Hobgoblin responds:
“That’s a shame, ’cause I’m worth twenty. I’ll buy myself if you let me go.” Randall grins.

The Knights like him already.

Less than thirty seconds later the four Hobgoblin Soldiers are dead, the last one dies attempting to get away, Lucan's dagger does the trick- the Elven Rogue has yet to enter the chamber.

Mid-fracas Randall gets away from his captors and swings into action, the Knights like him all the more, particularly when he manages to trip the robed Hobgoblin. 

[DM Interlude- this week, lots of pictures.]





Look who's back.

The robed Hobgoblin, a Warcaster, blubbers a little and begs for his life to be spared- he's pumped for information.

It turns out, to no-one's surprise, the Hobgoblins are Bloodreavers, they hold sway in the Seven Pillared Hall- they receive orders from their command located in the Chamber of Eyes- they're slavers.

None of this information wins him any friends.

Rock smashes him down.

[DM Interlude Encounter #74 [800 XP = Level 2] Hobgoblin Soldier x4 (Level 3 Soldier) & Hobgoblin Warcaster (Level 4 Controller).]

Then the robed figure, the mysterious companion of Randall, reveals himself... to groans, and worse.

It's...

“I am back”, Splug swirls his cloak about him, disappears within its voluminous folds, re-emerges brandishing a rusty looking shortsword- thrust heavenwards.

“Cur (like Sir) Splug, Champion of the Raven Queen, Deathbringer- I laugh in the face of misfortune - certain that I will live until the day I die, at which time I will stand at my lady's side. I...”
“What happened to the Marxist thing?” Lucan enquires, and instantly wishes he hadn't.
“Marx was a thunk-head- we share only one fate, there is written but one end to all our stories...”

Cathal kicks Splug, Rock grabs him up and shakes him, Farkill punches the Goblin in the face.

“You can't... I'm a Paladin... I... I've never... Death's coming to get you- I'm gonna tell her where you live!” Splug splutters, and is dropped hard onto the stone floor of the chamber.

The Knights, and Randall move off, having already searched the Bloodreaver corpses.

“I've been wanting to do that for ages.” Randall adds looking back at the dishevelled Goblin.

Splug scurries after the Knights, one hand clutching the hilt of his holy Flaming (not actually Flaming though, or Holy for that matter) sword- Bent'ass.

Silently, under-his-breath, and in a language the Knights don't understand, he swears he will have his revenge.

The Knights venture on, another mile or so of the great passage, to the Seven Pillared Hall, en route Randall prepares them for what lies ahead.

Explains that the Hall is run by, or was run by, the Mages of Saruun, a bunch of mystics that defend the place from harm, and tax the inhabitants for their services, and make the rules- and seemingly move around the Hall invisibly.

He tells them also about Brugg, a heavy handed Ogre who works for the Mages, keeps the peace within the Hall when the Mages are not about.

And lastly about the Bloodreavers, although this new turn of events is beyond his understanding, the last time Randall was in the Hall- some three months back, the Bloodreavers made their fortune as nothing more than bandits. They ventured into the Hall only to re-supply, or else sell what items they had managed to locate in their nefarious activities. A mixture of Goblinoids and Humans, it seems things have changed in the Seven Pillared Hall.

Duly educated the Knights enter the Hall.





The Custom House.

Ahead is the custom house, but first things first- oh look, there's a very large Ogre, and some ruffians in tow. It must be...

“Brugg.” Randall whispers.

The Knights enter the Hall in dribs-and-drabs, that is to say a couple at a time, or else singularly- giving varying reasons for their arrival.

From Rock's “I'm the new Postman”, to Lucan's “I'm Dangerous.”

Only Cathal has a problem, he's not that good at lying, and not fond of it either, which makes it all the harder for him to do.

“State 'cher business?” A ragtag Guard barks.
“I have come to rid this dank pit of hell from the foetid grip of the noisome slavers, the Bloodreaver scum.” Cathal states, and then attempts a weak smile.
“Don't listen to him.” Randall quickly chimes in, arresting the Guards motion towards Brugg the Ogre.
“Insurance salesman.” Randall states and shudders.
The guard spits and lets Cathal past.





The welcoming committee.

The Knights saunter over to the Halfmoon Inn where they are treated right royally by the Halfmoon family. Randall tells his tale of high adventure, and his rescue by the Knights- soon enough they have supped and dined and are very ready for a constitutional, to see the sights of the Hall.

Randall bids them farewell for a little while, and suggests they try to keep their weapons sheathed- it seems the Hall is home to quite a number of Bloodreavers, Randall will have more news when he has discovered for himself what exactly is going on here.





Happy hour at the Halfmoon Inn.

Ulthand Deepgem, of the Deepgem Mining Company, is first to receive a visit, the Knights chat a while, particularly Rock and Farkill, happy to see a fellow Dwarf. Eventually the conversation hushes and Ulthand asks a favour-

“It's Mr. Slash see, he's gone missing in the Labyrinth, and... well I miss 'im. If you see  'im...”
“Mr. Slash?” Rock asks.
“He's my Boar- I rides him all the time, only he's wandered off. I was just sayin' if yer in the Labyrinth and yer spot 'im. Well, I'll be ever-so grateful, oh I miss 'im so...” 

The stout Dwarf Ulthand collapses across his desk, and sniffs a while- Farkill and Rock stand silent, exchanging worried looks.

“MR. SLASH.” Ulthand screams, and flails in a blue-funk.

The Knights make their excuses, Rock and Farkill promising to keep an eye out for the wandering Mr. Slash.





Ulthand pines for his Dire Boar- Mr. Slash. It takes all sorts to make a world.

Next stop Bersk the Wainwright, who does a nice side-line in mounts and the like-

“Psst! Wanna buy a Lizard? One careful owner- taxed and insured. Low mileage, six 'undred crowns, practically givin' 'im away?” 

The Knights examine the various creatures on offer, Ignaran checks each creature's teeth- the farmers do it at the cattle market, he figures it's the polite thing to do.

“'Ow 'bout a Giant Ant- lovely runner, off road- no problem; do anything for a cup of sugar the lad. I'll knock a ton off the asking price on account of 'is missing leg?”

The Knights decline and move on.





Bersk, 2nd hand Ant salesman.

On to the Temple of the Hidden Light, proprietor Phaledra, Halfling Priestess of Erathis, and that's more like it. The Halfling spies the Knights for what they are instantly- they make another friend, and tell a little of their story. 

The Halfling promises to keep her ear to the ground, says she will arrange a meeting later in the day at the Halfmoon Inn, invite others within the Hall that are desperate to see the back of the Bloodreavers. She also pledges to use her skills to further the Knights' cause, Cathal leaves in a much better mood.





Phaledra of Erathis- a friend indeed.

The Knights nose around the market, buy trail rations and restock the incidentals that make life on the road bearable. Nothing strange to report.





“Paaaand a fungi- stalks or caps love?”

Eventually they wend their way round to Gendar the Drow Merchant's establishment, the Drow Merchant turns out to be a Drow? Much to the Knights ire- they are loathe to hand over Nimozaran's package.

“A Drow?” Rock and Farkill conclude, in unison.
“I am Gendar the Drow, purveyor of fine goods and antiquities. How may I serve you mighty Lords?” Gendar replies with a flourish.
“A Drow?” Rock and Farkill concur, in unison.
“Can we not move beyond the petty stereotypes, I think perhaps that humanoids of all races have at one time or another have perpetrated terrible acts. Besides, it would be wrong of you to simply judge a book by its cover?”
“A Drow?” Rock, Farkill and Cathal agree, in unison.
“If you prick me do I not bleed...” Gendar begins.
“Let's put that to the test shall we?” Lucan speaks at last.

The conversation circles for a good hour, going nowhere fast.





Gendar gives the Knights the finger.

That is, until the Drow simply states that he can, on occasion, lay his hands on magical and enchanted items, at which point the Knights start to pay attention.

Nimozaran's box is handed over, the Drow hands a similar box back- to return to Nimozaran, he also asks if the Knights would be interested in a little paid employment- Cathal is about to do his righteous indignation thing when Lucan elbows him into silence.

Gendar, it seems, is on the look out for three items that are 'lost' in the Labyrinth-

The first, the Crown of a Dwarven Clan Lord, stolen away by a mad Dwarf who attempted to seize the throne of said Clan- Thain Cardanas. Farkill and Rock ask pointed questions, and receive blunt but reasonable answers, they're persuaded to believe the Drow- he will see the Crown returned to its rightful owner (with his usual commission of course) should the Knights locate it.

Second, a Skull-topped Rod, the item was bound for the Seven Pillared Hall when those transporting it were waylaid by a bunch of vicious Duergar- the Knights will look into this. Gendar goes on to explain that the Rod is a symbol of leadership for the Blackhand Orcs, an Underdark Orc tribe- very war-like.

Lastly, a large crystal, not magical, but useful- it is said to be located in a section of the Labyrinth known as the Court of Bones, although Gendar's not certain what previous purpose this place served.

Lucan agrees prices, and shuffles out, warily the other Knights follow.





Thank you! Come again.

Voyage of discovery over, the Knights make their way back to the Halfmoon Inn, and a few hours later, after the Inn is shut at closing time, are in a meeting- a secret meeting, of sorts. Present are a good dozen of the inhabitants of the Seven Pillared Hall, and in fine voice at present is Noristo Azaer, a Tiefling, and of the Azaer Trading Company.

“How can we be sure of them? You're too eager to trust, no offence... “, Noristo motions to the Knights, “but prove it. Then we'll trust you- help you.”
“How?” Cathal asks.

There follows several minutes of whispered discussions, a brief vote- seemingly, and then Noristo's back.

“There's a Witch, she lives high in the mountain- Denoa, she's a Shadar-kai, she keeps a pair of Gargoyles, they watch out for easy targets on the road- merchants and travellers, she robs them, or kills them, or both. Anyway- find her and...”, Noristo gulps, “kill her.”

Many of the Seven Pillared Hall folk present pointedly nod.

“We kill the Witch and you'll trust us?” Cathal wants to get things clear.
“Not only that, but we'll reward you- 100 gold coins each for proof of her demise- what say you?” 
Lucan shoves his way into the proceedings, clasps Noristo's hand, and shakes it hard- “deal.”

And so after more food and drink, and a full night's rest, the Knights awake, and with Terrlen Darkseeker, their appointed guide, head out of the Seven Pillared Hall and into the Labyrinth proper.

[DM Interlude- if I was running this scenario again I would make every journey out into the Labyrinth necessitate a Skill Challenge, random monsters the price for failures.]

Several hours into the arduous journey, stumbling through chambers that all look alike, particularly in the semi-dark.

“I tell ya, this Labyrinth's a bloody maze.” Farkill states without a hint of irony.

Several more hours later Terrlen suddenly comes to a halt, the Knights concertina.

“Something ahead... listen.” Terrlen states.
“I can't... Oh yeah.” Ignaran confirms.
“Flapping?” Lucan adds.
“Take a look then.” Cathal finishes and stares at the Elven Rogue.

Muttering under his breath, Lucan heads forward, the cavern passage splits- north or east, Lucan can hear, scratch that, see- two human sized creatures grapple and squabble mid-flight, although perhaps only a few feet off the ground. The place stinks of death- Lucan watches a while longer and then creeps back.

The Knights plump for their tried and tested tactic (singular).

“Charge!” Cathal leads the foray.

The creatures turn out to be a pair of Rotwing Zombies, one of which is decapitated by Rock in the opening exchange, the second creature flutters towards the ceiling and yells and shrieks- inhuman sounds.

“What's he...” Ignaran asks and almost immediately gets his answer.

Three more Rotwing Zombie swoop in from the northern passage, the Knights are effectively surrounded.

Cathal, Farkill and Rock cut down the shrieking Rotwing. 

And now the Knights are not surrounded- things change round here pretty fast.

It gets worse for the Rotwings, in short time the flying menaces are no more, and the Knights are face to face with a wild-haired figure, clearly Undead-

“I am Az'Al'Bani, wanderer of the Halls, I search for the Court of Bones.” Az'Al'bani, the Deathlock Wight lisps.

The Knights collectively shrug and shoot disgusted glances at each other- they then press the attack, the Deathlock Wight is quickly very bloodied, only Cathal is wounded in the exchange, although the numbing cold of the Wight's touch leaves him disorientated, and hurting deep inside.

“I gift you this key... If you will only spare my life.” The Wight displays a key, seemingly made of silver, and yet fashioned from some large creatures shin bone.

There follows a short meeting- the Knights hurriedly whisper- deciding the forlorn Wight's fate.

“Couldn't we just kill him and take the key?” Lucan states.
Which is the catalyst for a host of cocky grins.

Thirty seconds later Ignaran is examining the silver shin bone key, while Az'Al'Bani lies motionless on the floor, never to roam the Labyrinth again.





Dead meat flying.

[DM Interlude Encounter #75 [1200 XP = Level 5] Zombie Rotwing x5 (Level 5 Skirmisher) & Az'Al'Bani, Deathlock Wight (Level 5 Controller).]

[DM Interlude- during the fracas Lucan, or rather Jack who plays Lucan has to leave in a rush, and so Lucan is no longer in play. Fortunately Splug, who has been following the Knights at what he thought to be a safe distance, is spotted- he rushes into combat and joins our happy gang.]

And so in play we have now-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 4
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 4
Splug, Goblin Paladin of the Raven Queen Level 1

[DM Interlude- what do you know, Splug now has enough XP to advance to Level 2, after an extended rest.]

The key is hidden away, Cathal barks, and Terrlen leads on- for what seems to be hours, and which is in fact hours and hours.

“Are we there yet?” Farkill whines, to which the answer is...
“Yes.” Terrlen nods ahead, there's light, or rather a lighter dark- the passage opens out, as in to the outside, a stone stair leads up to rough two storey squat stone building, which clings to the side of the mountain and looks down on to the road to Thunderspire below.

“Oh.” Farkill nods, “good.”

Break for a plan- the Knights connive a while, then this is how it goes.

Rock strides up the last few stairs, to a stone door, the other Knights scurry into concealment after.

Knock KNOCK!

Silence for a while, Rock looks back at his companions- shrugs his shoulders, is about to knock again, when...

“Who is it?” The voice is female and the wrong side of ancient.
“Mail man. Special delivery from the Seven Pillared Hall. You need to sign for it.”
“What?”
“I said...”
“Yes, yes. Hang on- I'm not dressed.” 

Sounds from the inside, Rock presses his ear against the stone door- nothing distinct.

Eventually the sound of a bolt being drawn back, a pale wizened woman appears at the gap in the door- looks Rock up and down.

“You don't look like a mail man?”
“Special delivery- special mail man, can't be too careful, it's dangerous out here.” Rock replies and smirks.

[DM Interlude- it's at this point that Rock rolls an adjusted 13 on his Bluff check, and curses; then I roll an unadjusted '1'.]

“You'd better come in then dearie...” Denoa, the Shadar-kai Witch, opens the door.

Which proves to be a fatal mistake- the Knights, all of them, actions readied, rush in- or worse.

Less than ten seconds later Denoa is retreating and already badly injured, her Iron Defenders, Fritz & Shultz, leap in front of her to protect her from the Knights.

All of the Knights are in the chamber, which is small and orderly- a cluttered desk, a made bed, a chest, a lit fire, a set of stairs leading to the chamber above, and a stone balcony with what looks to be a superb view of the valley bellow.

Out of the corner of his eye Cathal spots a ghostly black dog, and then it's gone- the Shadow Hound reappears behind the Knights and bays- a terrible loathsome sound that sends fear and dread into all that hear it- Farkill, Ignaran and Splug shut the beast up in a little over ten seconds, but not before it has taken a chunk out of Lucan.

Denoa bathes Rock with a dark ray, the Dwarf stumbles and swats at his face, unable to see anything more than ten feet away- he takes his frustration out on Fritz, Cathal joins him, and the first Iron Defender is battered beyond recognition in double quick time.

Soon after, the second Iron Defender also bites the dirt, but not before Cathal has also been hurt by the Shadar-kai's dark ray.

Which just leaves... Oh hang on.

Alighting on the stone balcony over the far side of the chamber are the pair of Gargoyles the Knights hid from on the road- Betty and Bobby, Denoa coos their names.

The gruesome stone twosome swoop into the fracas, just as Denoa surrounds herself in a thick impenetrable (by sight) bank of shadow.

The fight wears on, the Gargoyles are more than a match for the Knights- Cathal, Rock and Farkill are quickly bloodied; Farkill has to step back and provide what healing he can to stem the tide.

Finally Ignaran, once again in Bear form, breaks the line and gets up close and personal with Denoa, the Shadar-kai Shadow Jaunts, teleports away and becomes insubstantial, and still it's not enough, particularly as she was pretty badly beaten up already.

Soon enough the Shadar-kai lies dead, which serves as a cue for the Gargoyles to make for the exit- bruised and battered, the stony pair escape.

The Knights catch their breath.  





Nice tats!

[DM Interlude Encounter #76 [1800 XP = Level 8] Iron Defender x2 (Level 4 Soldier); Shadow Hound (Level 7 Skirmisher); Gargoyles x2 (Level 9 Lurkers) & Denoa, Shadar-kai Witch (Level 8 Controller). Nice combat, the Knights pulled out some whopping rolls- with lots of damage, no actual crits but very close to max damage on occasion, and Gargoyles- they don't die quickly, very dependable from a DMs perspective.]

The Knights find some petty treasures- coin and valuables, but more importantly, after rifling through Denoa's papers on her desk, they discover a thick tome which seems to show that the Shadar-kai was working for a Duergar called... the Grimmerzhul?

“There's something else going on here.” Cathal states, and bundles up the tome for later perusal.

Rock decapitates the Shadar-kai Witch for good measure- and to provide proof of the Knights' success. Search completed, no stone left unturned, the Knights- having spent ten or more hours reaching the Witch's lair, settle in for the night.

And there they rest, undisturbed.

That brings an end to the 21st session, between them the Knights have mustered 12,900 experience points.

Next week... More.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 22- To the Chamber of Eyes

And so after a good rest in the Witch Denoa's chamber, the Knights, with Terrlen as their guide, make their way back to the Seven Pillared Hall, without incident.

In play this week, initially, we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 4

[DM Interlude- Farkill, played by Zoran, will be late- work again.]

The Hall is tense, there's something in the air, some change- even the Knights notice it, although they're not asking questions.

First stop is Gendar's, with the silver shin bone key the Knights took from Az'Al'Bani the Deathlock Wight in the Labyrinth. Gendar is excited to see the key- although unsure of its actual history, he offers to spend some time examining it, if the Knights would only leave it with him.

Not a chance- the Knights still have a problem with Gendar, in summary- “he's a Drow”, succinctly put by Rock, Lucan and Cathal.

The Knights' next stop is Dreskin's, the Provisioner, he seems to be a curmudgeon- trail rations are purchased, as is climbing gear, their experiences in the Labyrinth to date have been difficult- climbing gear for everyone to cope with the undulating passageways they will need to traverse.

A wrong turn later and the Friday Knights end up in Rothar's Taproom, a low-class Inn, which is where the Bloodreavers hang out when they are off duty- it gets tense very quickly, retreat is the order of the day. The Bloodreavers present attempt to pick a fight with each and every one of the Knights, but the heroes are not taking the bait.

[DM Interlude- I'm as surprised as you.]





Rothar's Taproom, the Bloodreavers get potty-mouthed.

The atmosphere is electric when the Knights return to the Halfmoon Inn, Noristo is over-joyed, as are a number of the other bar inhabitants that were present at the meeting with the Knights two evenings ago.

This isn't a time for celebration however, rewards are given- backs patted, hands shook, and smiles half-hidden. Whispered plans are made- the Knights next target, they believe, should be Brugg and the Bloodreavers within the Hall, this particularly because of the insults they have just been made to suffer in Rothar's.

Noristo and Randall, and the others are not so sure- the whispered conversations get a little heated, which is apposite really as the bar suddenly heats up.

The door crashes open and bursting into the Inn are a snake of Hobgoblins, Bloodreavers of course- mostly Grunts, but also a Warcaster; with them a pair of Goblin Blackblades, and in charge of the crew a Bugbear Warrior.

“We cum fer Knights- yer prisoners. Cum wid us.” The Bugbear pronounces, with difficulty in broken Common.

The bar silences, all eyes are on the Knights, and then back to the Bloodreavers.

Cathal steps forward, hissed whispers behind him from Norsito and Randall, cautious words, he pays them no heed.

“We are the Friday Knights. We are nobody's prisoners. NOW LEAVE, or die!”

The Knight of Kord draws his sword, the other Knights make similar arrangements, the crowd quickly withdraws- leaves a space.

“We cum fer Knights- yer prisoners. Cum wid...” The Bugbear Warrior tries again, not used to having his authority questioned.
“No.” Cathal cuts in.

The silence gathers.

The two sides continue to eyeball each other, the Bugbear eventually nods, and chaos is set loose.

The Blackblades produce bottles of hard liquor from beneath their leather surcoats, already stuffed with cloth tapers- light them from a torch one of the Grunts is holding, and fling them at the bar and into the densest part of the crowd.

Fire spreads.

People scream, windows are smashed as the common folk either flee or fight the flames.

The Knights and the Bloodreavers have not been idle- the two sides charge at each other, Cathal meets the Bugbear Warrior headlong- gives and receives some well aimed blows. Rock and Ignaran (now in Bear form) wade into the Hobgoblin Grunts and decimate them- twenty seconds into the combat and five of the Hobgoblins lie dead, only four still standing.

The Warcaster unleashes his powers, a blast of Force from his staff sends Lucan spinning back into the crowd, the Rogue decides to leave the Warcaster well alone, settles for launching himself at a Goblin Blackblade, who's trying to light a second fire bomb, the fight is bloody and short- Lucan emerges victorious, but not before he's bloodied too.

Rock and Ignaran eventually cut their way through the Grunts, leaving the Bugbear Warrior to Cathal to finish off, they race towards the Warcaster, and are hit by a pulse of force- Ignaran the Bear is knocked back and down, Rock however is made of sterner stuff, he shrugs off the hurt and smashes his hammer into the Hobgoblin caster.

Then the tide turns for good, Cathal swings hard and cuts deep into the Bugbear Warrior, who sinks to his knees, sways for a second, and then crashes face first into the wooden floor of the bar. The Warrior of Kord is at the second Goblin Blackblade in an instant, moments later and the creature is dead.

Fire has started to grip the bar, the area behind the bar proper is aflame- with half-a-dozen Halfmoon halflings scurrying hither and thither- fetching water to quench the flame- bottles of dark spirits explode and send out gouts of fire, it's hazardous work.

More or less all of the crowd have vanished now, made their exit by smashing the windows and crawling out of the Inn, in their place pockets of flame singe and burn, although the blaze has yet to really take hold.

Rock is jabbed hard in the stomach with the Warcaster's metal-shod staff, lightning courses through him and leaves him bloodied and dazed, barely able to maintain his grip on his hammer.

The Warcaster grins, and then too late, spots Ignaran the Bear, who charges into him and wrestles  the Hobgoblin to the floor, it ends badly for him.

The Bloodreavers are defeated.





Fire- ba-ba-ba-ba-barrrrr-bar... something-something... here to burn (maybe?)

[DM Interlude Encounter #77 [1071 XP = Level 6] Hobgoblin Grunts x9 (Level 4 Minion); Goblin Blackblade x2 (Level 2 Lurkers); Hobgoblin Warcaster (Level 4 Controller) & Bugbear Warrior (Level 6 Brute). Turned into a nasty little encounter with only four PCs in play.]

[DM Interlude- Cathal now has enough XP to advance to Level 6, after an extended rest.]

The four Knights scatter, and shout, actually three of the Knights scatter- Ignaran, Lucan and Rock- the three go for buckets of water or anything else that can be used to stifle the flame; Cathal meanwhile shouts- like a traffic cop he directs well... traffic, even the Halfmoons, anxious to save their Inn, obey his commands- Cathal calls the shots.

And in a little over two minutes the majority, if not all, of the fires are out- the Inn is saved.

At the exact moment the door again bursts open and Farkill and Splug half-stumble, half-fall into the Inn.

[DM Interlude- Farkill, that is Zoran, has just arrived in-game, once again work gets in the way. As to the addition of Splug well that's because Mike, who plays Ignaran, has to leave in a little while- he has to go to work. Frustrating I know but what can you do about it, and there are no better nights to play, we've been through all of the options.]

And so now we have in play-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 5 (needs an Extended Rest for Level 6)
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 4
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 4
Splug, Paladin of the Raven Queen Level 2

“What've you been up to?” Farkill enquires, out of breath.
“Just making friends.” Rock states.
Farkill notices the burnt out bar, “Oh, Aeolace back?”
“No, Bloodreaver work. Now why have you been running?” Cathal asks.
“Bloodreavers, they're coming”, Farkill nods back towards the exit, “with Brugg.”
“Then it would be rude not to greet them properly.” Cathal grins and the Knights file out of the Inn.

And sure enough the Bloodreavers are coming, over a dozen of them- Hobgoblin Grunts and Soldiers, alongside the Human Enforcers from the entrance to the Seven Pillared Hall, and following on behind- shooing them into battle- Brugg, who looks to be a formidable foe.

“KiiiiiiLLLLLL 'Em!” Brugg screams.

The Hobgoblin Grunts charge into the Knights, the Hobgoblin Soldiers form a defensive line and march forward, the Human Enforcers unleash their crossbows and fire, indiscriminate in their attacks- citizens of the Seven Pillared Hall are killed.

[DM Interlude- here follows one of those fights when, as a DM, you know you've lost from the first round.]

The Hobgoblin Grunts smash into the Knights, and are decimated- and yes I've used the word before, but here I actually mean decimated, they're all killed- not one survives, six out of six down in the opening charge.

The artillery wavers, backs up a way, while the Hobgoblin Soldiers hold the line and get into the fray, and are broken almost in an instant.

[DM Interlude- Rock crits, then Cathal crits.]

Ten seconds later and there's only one of the Hobgoblin Soldiers left standing, one of the Human Enforcers is dead, the other two fleeing, and Brugg is close to being surrounded.

[DM Interlude- and the Knights have taken two hits, not even good ones. Sometimes, IMHO, a gang of Minions are more trouble than their worth- I think I should just plough in with the nastiest bad guy rather than have the minions get in the way. I'm going to have to re-think my tactics it seems.]

Brugg however is not one to just give up, he launches himself into the midst of the Knights, initially charging in to unleash hell on Ignaran the Bear, certainly enough to make the Druid think about getting out of the fight, then the Ogre scampers into the mix, buoyed by this daring manoeuvre he seems to swell in size.

“Brugg kill. Kill good!” He declares.

And then is almost cut down in less than ten seconds.

Ignaran dashes in, swats, swipes and bites and leaves the Ogre clutching at his bloody side, moments later Cathal and Rock smash into Brugg, both deliver stinging blows.

[DM Interlude- Rock crits again. The bastard.]

Lucan finds a place behind the Ogre and slices hard.

[DM Interlude- that's another crit then.]

Causing Brugg to stumble forward, ideally placed to meet Farkill's charge- another massive hit and the Ogre is bloodied and reeling, trying hard to stay on his feet.

[DM Interlude- Brugg started the combat on 196 Hit Points, after one round he has 67 left, !]

Less than ten seconds later, with the final Hobgoblin Soldier despatched, the Ogre is on his knees and disarmed, and begging forgiveness.

“Brugg sooooooo sorrreee. Brugg goodie, not baddie. Bad Bloodreavers make Brugg angree. Brugg soooo sorrry. Brugg know stuff- Brugg help Knights. Brugg goodie now.” Brugg stutters and flounders.

“There's been enough blood.” Cathal states, and motions with his sword for Brugg to get up.





The Bloodreavers are on the Critical list.

[DM Interlude Encounter #78 [2014 XP = Level 7] Hobgoblin Grunt x6 (Level 4 Minions); Hobgoblin Soldier x3 (Level 4 Soldiers); Human Enforcers x3 (Level 4 Brute) & Brugg, Ogre Enforcer (Level 8 Elite Brute).]

[DM Interlude- Farkill and Rock now have enough XP to advance to Level 5, after an extended rest that is.]

In short order the Seven Pillared Hall is taken back, the Knights and a rag-tag gang of the inhabitants of the Hall, buoyed by the Knights successes, take to the streets and search out and slaughter every remaining Bloodreaver- less than an hour later the place is Bloodreaver free.

Brugg it seems is the Knights' new best friend, the gaggle retire to the Inn- the beer flows like water, the Halfmoons are overjoyed, as is Phaledra, Halfling Priestess of Erathis, and Noristo Azaer, the Tiefling Merchant, and a multitude of others. 

Brugg tells the Knights all he knows- about the Chamber of Eyes and how to get there, about Krand the 'Big Chief' of the Bloodreavers, and about Tra'ak's entrance into the Hall several weeks earlier with two dozen slaves.

The conversation takes many turns, the Knights enquire as to the whereabouts of the Mages of Saruun, the supposed protectors of the Hall, and are met with shrugs and blank faces- nobody knows.

“Then we must head to the Chamber of Eyes, take the fight to the Bloodreavers- and you shall show us the way.” Cathal points his sword at Brugg.

The cowed Ogre nods his agreement.

But for now sleep.

The next morning the Knights breakfast well and then with Brugg leading the way head back into the Labyrinth, the Knights have Terrlen in tow, just in case they have to 'deal' with Brugg at some point.

And so now we have in play-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 5
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5
Splug, Paladin of the Raven Queen Level 2

Only three hours into the journey the Knights hear odd sounds in the maze of caverns- laughter, cautiously they approach and eventually wander into a pack of Hyenas tearing and ripping at the carcass of a fallen Bloodreaver Hobgoblin. The amused hounds are not keen to share their kill- the fracas is short and to the point.

The Knights suffer some fairly minor cuts and bruises but all of the Hyenas are either killed or routed.





Laughing all the way to the BONK!

[DM Interlude Encounter #79 [1050 XP = Level 4] Hyena x7 (Level 3 Skirmishers).]

Terrlen explains that packs of Hyenas are quite common in the Labyrinth, it seems somewhere down here there's a Gnoll lair, the Blackfang Gnolls, they employ the creatures as guards to the lair.

[DM Interlude- and all change again, Ignaran, that is Mike, has to leave to go to work- we're back down to five PCs again.]

And so now we have in play-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5
Splug, Paladin of the Raven Queen Level 2

The Knights move off, make good time, and only three hours later arrive at the Chamber of Eyes, or rather a broken chamber with a fairly formidable set of iron doors- beyond which, Brugg assures them, is the Chamber of Eyes and the remains of the Bloodreavers.





The door to the Chamber of Eyes.

The Knights are in a large antechamber. Two fearsome-looking statues of winged demons squat on either side of a short stairway leading up to double doors. Inscribed upon the doors is an image of a great eye with multiple eye stalks, as well as a symbol of a circle with a crossbar rising out of it. Heaps of rubble are scattered across the floor, and to the north a balcony overlooks the room.

The Knights are straight into action, Lucan makes his way up and onto the balcony, this after thoroughly checking the great doors, and unlocking them of course. There's another locked door up on the balcony- it heads in the same direction, moments later it too is unlocked.

There are muffled Goblin voices coming from both doors- guards obviously, a plan is hatched.

Lucan starts by taking a quick look at what lies beyond the door on the balcony.

A few moments later.





Peek-a-boo, I see you.

Lucan gets ready for the call, Cathal is lifted up onto the balcony by Brugg, who then moves into position, the other Knights ready themselves.

KNOCK KNOCK!

“I's BruuuGGG. Brugg got messijj.” Brugg clears his throat and receives a grin and a thumbs up from Farkill.

A few moments later the Knights hear the sound of shuffling, and hushed conversations- Lucan watching sees Goblins file out the guard chamber and head for the great door.

“It's working”, he whispers back to Cathal.

Who signals, thumbs up, to Farkill.

“Brugg got mail!” The Ogre sing-songs.

The sound of the Goblin chatter is much closer now.

“NOW!” Farkill screams and Brugg slams the doors open- smashing and sending sprawling a pair of the Goblin Skullcrushers standing immediately behind the door.

Lucan is unleashed, he dances into the guard chamber and spins a dagger into the Bugbear Warrior, the Guard Leader's, chest- the creature staggers back. The Elven Rogue leaps down into the chamber proper and into the fray, swiftly followed by a screaming Cathal.

In the same instant Farkill, Rock, Splug and Brugg begin to make mincemeat of the Goblin Skullcleavers out in the corridor- the pair don't last long, and soon after those in the guardroom are surrounded- and cut down.





Avon calling.

[DM Interlude Encounter #80 [1125 XP = Level 5] Goblin Skullcleaver x5 (Level 4 Brute) & Bugbear Warrior (Level 6 Brute).]

Silence is called for, now that the fighting is over- there's no sound, their entrance has not alerted anyone it seems. The chamber is searched, the Bugbear has a very nice belt- identified by Farkill as being magical in nature.

[DM Interlude- Belt of Sacrifice, Farkill takes it.]

After a short rest Brugg is stationed at the door, to protect the Knights back- the Ogre now seems to be genuinely enjoying his time with the Knights, particularly when Cathal passes over a portion of the gold they have found on the Goblinoids, it seems Ogres are infinitely more trustworthy than Drow, at least as far as the Knights are concerned.

Lucan is sent out to do a little scouting.

First off, the Elven Rogue discovers two Duergar eating a meal in their chamber, more proof that the Grey Dwarves are mixed up in the plot.

Silently he withdraws and continues on with his circuit.





Passen Der Pepperen Potten! (Apologies to any who may be offended by my crass racial stereotyping.)

Next stop a huge chamber, whose door requires a little persuasion- it was locked, within some sort of great hall, a number of Hobgoblin Archers patrol the upper reaches and a Dire Wolf barely stirs in its sleep- Lucan gets out quickly and moves on.





Dog-tired.

Last stop a noisy chamber, several groups of Bloodreavers- Goblin, Hobgoblin and Human are involved in an engrossing game of chance- Lucan spots coins on the trestle tables- he wants to start the attack here. The inhabitants of the chamber seem ill-prepared, and perhaps have been drinking.

Lucan reports back, omitting the stuff about treasure, and playing up the weakness of the last chamber he observed- with only one way in and out.

Cathal concurs- the Knights head off, back to war.





I spy with my little eye something beginning with C, that's right, 'Corpses.'

A plan is briefly hatched, it goes a little like this-

“Charge!”

And they're in the fray, free hits all around as the Bloodreavers within the chamber scatter and attempt to grab their weapons- in the initial charge, one of the Hobgoblin Soldiers is cut down, while a Human Bandit is bloodied.

The remaining Hobgoblin Soldiers attempt to form a shield wall- keep the Knights at bay while the Goblins and Human back peddle and get themselves some room to unleash the artillery.

Alas, for them, a second Hobgoblin Soldier is cut down and the way is open. Moments later the artillery is being menaced by Lucan, Rock and Cathal- which is a winning combination- they don't last long, although one of the Goblin Sharpshooters is killed clawing at a wall, strange- that is until Lucan points out the secret door.





The Bloodreavers game of Snap gets bloody.

[DM Interlude Encounter #79 [1125 XP = Level 5] Goblin Sharpshooter x2 (Level 3 Artillery); Human Bandits x2 (Level 3 Skirmishers) & Hobgoblin Soldier x3 (Level 4 Soldiers).] 

Lucan makes his way over to the pile of money on one of the trestle tables- the pot, but not quick enough, the other Knights have spotted it too. Of particular interest is the marvellously made Longsword, which Cathal admires, from up close.

[DM Interlude- +1 Lifedrinker Longsword- Cathal grabs it.]

The Friday Knights secure the area and make ready for the next stage of their invasion.

And thus the 22nd session of play draws to a close, the Knights (in their various combinations) have amassed 16,198 experience points this session, the most they've received in a single session to date.

Next time... more Knight style brutality.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Note to view this Story Hour you may need to view the Print version, sorry but every time I upload the images it does something strange with them...

Session 23 The Bloody Trail.

And so the Knights are (short) rested and ready for action, ensconced within the Chamber of Eyes, more Bloodreavers to hunt down and slay no doubt, and the Duergar to deal with.

This week in play we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5
Splug, Paladin of the Raven Queen Level 2

[DM Interlude- Farkill, that is Zoran, will be with us in a little while- he's at work. Alas, once again, Mike who plays Ignaran will have to leave us later on- more work.]

First up this week a little more exploration, in a lonely room in the Chamber of Eyes an ancient statue to Baphomet stands, has stood for centuries, the Knights investigate; and then Rock reduces it to rubble.





Rock is having a smashing time- bring on the antiquities.

The Knights scheme a while and then ready themselves for their attack, the plan proves to be ambitious- have the Knights bitten of more than they can chew?

[DM Interlude- Farkill turns up half-way through the following fracas.]

And so Lucan and Cathal aim for a pincer movement in an attempt to take the Duergar quickly out of the fight, this is their first encounter with the Grey Dwarves, and time to learn that they are made of sterner stuff.

Particularly as during their conflict a Hobgoblin Warcaster appears from a side room and adds his weight to their cause.

Meanwhile the other Knights- Rock, Ignaran, Splug and some time after Farkill, broach the main chamber and do their damnedest to bring the Dire Wolf there low, and swiftly so.

Nothing goes to plan, all is awry.

Cathal makes his mark on the Duergar, as does Lucan, but mainly from a distance; the Grey Dwarves hold their station and trade blows with our heroes. Furthermore the Duergar are so angered with this intervention that they pull their beards from their chins, or else the poison darts concealed within, and cast them at our goodly Knights .

Poisoned!

Then the Warcaster arrives and soon after both Lucan and Cathal are bloodied and set to lose the fight.

In the central shrine the Dire Wolf is all but beaten, but now there are four treacherous fellows- a Goblin Sharpshooter and three Hobgoblin Archers, that are using the Knights present for pincushions.

The Dire Wolf dies.

The Goblin Sharpshooter is chased down and also slain.

The Bloodreavers are however swiftly reinforced- Chief Krand, Lord of the Bloodreavers takes his place- looks down on the Knights assembled and rages.

“Kill the intruders, let slip the dogs of war, harry them to their graves!” Krand cries and lurches forward- spear in hand..

[DM Interlude- sorry for the language but I've just been to see a Shakespeare play.]

Meanwhile Cathal and Lucan are still making hard work of the grey brothers, that is until one tumbles and lies upon the floor- gurgling and gasping his last.

“Ich bin Kaputt!” He whispers.

The Knightly pair redouble their efforts, while the Hobgoblin Warcaster beats a hasty retreat, or at least stumbles back a way to best effect his at distance powers.

The Knights continue to suffer for their ambitious attack, Cathal's challenge is all that, at times,  prevents  Lucan's too early ending.

Then the second Duergar Guard falls and the Knights' joy is unconfined- the ragged pair chase down the Warcaster, but are alas caught in his forceful invocation- both are blasted, Lucan almost finally- fatally, so.

Cathal is less affected, he tarries within the Hobgoblin Warcaster's reach and plants his sword in the midst of the beasts beating breast.

“Die foul sorcerer, the dark veil calls for you!” Cathal cries.

Back again to the shrine, reinforcements have arrived once more, this time the Knights are refuelled, nay refreshed- Brugg, the mighty Ogre, joins the game. 

Soon the Hobgoblin Archers are fleeing, scampering for cover, for a corner from which to fire their bows- alas it is not to be, at least for two of the trio, they fall- by Farkill's hammer, by Brugg's club and by Ingnaran's ursine paw.

The Knights press on- match hit with hit, and thus at Krand they do arrive, and begin to mix it with the Bloodreavers' master.

Too soon the end, Cathal and Lucan lay low the Warcaster, at last, he's past.

Lucan opens a door and is met by Krand's retreat- he sticks his dagger in the foul Hobgoblin chieftain's seat.

“My arse. My arse. He's stabbed me in my arse!”

Krand despairs.

The Knights cheer.

And the last of the Bloodreavers saves his life and gives up the ghost.

“Fie, less I die. The fight is out of me, you have chivvied me enough- I end it!”

[DM Interlude- I think the Shakespeare thing has passed, read on...]





A Tale of Two Fights.

[DM Interlude Encounter #82 [1900 XP = Level 7] Goblin Sharpshooter (Level 3 Artillery); Hobgoblin Archers x3 (Level 4 Artillery); Dire Wolf (Level 6 Skirmisher); Hobgoblin Warcaster (Level 4 Controller); Duergar Guard x2 (Level 5 Soldiers) & Krand, Bloodreaver Barbarian Chief (Level 5 Elite Soldier(Leader)). For a moment I thought I'd got them- Farkill and Lucan were just not connecting, or else doing little damage, and were getting beaten soundly for their endeavours.]

The Bloodreavers are destroyed.

The shrine, dedicated to Torog- Farkill and Cathal confirm, is examined. Torog is some ancient Underdark deity, the King that Crawls, the creeping doom that haunts the nightmares of mortal men. The Knights are somewhat stumped by this revelation, they thought that Orcus, as in the Keep on the Shadowfell, would be the object of their ire.

Then Ignaran's eyes flutter, he stutters and fumbles, crumples and swoons to the cold stone floor- the Rod of Ruin, once again, grasped in his hands.





The Shrine to Torog, gift shop not shown.

Ignaran looks again at the shrine, only he's not Ignaran any more, he's more powerful, stronger, and more arrogant- the Rod of Ruin however is still firmly grasped in his hand. Waves of dark power cascade down upon him, whispers of victories to come, he feels- unfettered by the fear of failure, his dark heart soars.

And he remembers...

Glimpses...

The shores of some roiling black sea, in a huge black cavern, the place where it all started- when the Creeping King found him in the dark.

3-2-1

Ignaran is back in the room, Cathal before him- the Rod of Ruin in the Warrior of Kord's hands.

The Druid tries to explain what he has seen, although the words do not come easy.

The feelings are harder still to express.

The Knights take their time, next step is the interrogation of Krand, this after the newly discovered chambers are ransacked- a healing draught and some exceptionally well made chainmail are found.

[DM Interlude- Potion of Healing & +2 Delver's Chain, the armour goes to Farkill.]

Krand turns out to be easy, although the methods of interrogation used at the outset do much to loose his tongue, figuratively and...

It seems the Duergar are to blame, and there's evidence to support the Bloodreaver Chief's assertions. Krand- he states - is just a villain, before all of this he was content to ply his trade on the highways and byways of the Nentir Vale- a robber, perhaps a little worse, but the lure of gold- Duergar gold - made him the tyrant the Knights see before them.

His job simply to get slaves, to supply the Murkelmoor Grimmerzhul, Duergar Lord.





Proof enough- next stop, the Duergar.

Krand also tells the Knights that Tra'ak, the Hobgoblin Chief the Knights first encountered and fought in the Keep on the Shadowfell, has gone in search of a place called the Forgotten, or Forbidden, Forge. He knows little of this venture as the orders were sent by the Duergar directly to Tra'ak, a slight he brooded over for quite some time.

The Knights are polite enough to thank Krand for his candour.

Then Rock kills him- hammer to the back of the head, most efficacious.

The Knights close the doors to the Chamber of Eyes, set guards and rest up for the evening and beyond. Brugg is given a number of rousing cheers and retires for the evening a little worse for wear and with more than one tear in his eyes.

An ancient Minotaur tome, found in the earlier search is thoroughly examined- the book slowly gives up its secret, 

Tells of the Minotaur Priest who discovered the shrine to Torog in the depths of the Labyrinth, his conversion, the building of the Chamber of Eyes. Also mentions the Throne of Bones? The Palace of Zaamdul? The Bronze Singers and the Song of Breaking? Odd.

Fully rested the Knights, with Terrlen and Brugg, make their way back to the Seven Pillared Hall, this time there are no untoward encounters en route, they all arrive home safely.

Gendar, the D-word (Drow) is sought out, it seems several of the Knights wish to place orders- this time for some of the magic items he is said to be able to get his hands on.

[DM Interlude- in our game Magic Items are available for sale, however everything has to be cleared via me, and the players may only attempt to purchase items up to their present level in power. It works well, particularly as there are a limited number of outlets that can supply magic items- the PCs have to find them.]

Needless to say our heroes are a lot more polite on this visit, almost business-like, funny that.

From there it's straight back to the Halfmoon Inn, the jubilating goes on to the wee small hours, at which time in dark whispers the next target of the Knights is named.

“Them damned Grey Dwarves are for it!” Cathal declares.
Farkill and Rock hold their own counsel.

Mid next morning, after a lie-in, the Knights are pretty much alone in the Inn, working out what exactly they need to do next- Vadriar the Sage, who's been invited to the meeting, halts proceedings- he has some sort of fit.

Vadriard had earlier promised the Knights directions to the fortress of the Duergar, the Grimmerzhul, alas when he is put on the spot... well, that's when he has his petit mal. 

The Knights are quickly on the scene, the Sage is made comfortable-

“Strange, I can't seem to remember where the fortress is... I mean I know where the fortress is but... It's not there, my mind keeps going blank- it's as if...” Vadriar flusters.

Phaeledra, Halfling Priestess of Erathis is called for, Farkill is also called on to consult, together the pair discover that Vadriar's mind has been tampered with- the Sage is cursed, of a sort.

Which rings a bell with Vadriar, he begins to remember a different encounter, with a hooded creature that stank, in the Labyrinth less than a week ago- he describes the incident, seemingly innocent, and does his best to describe where it took place- another scrap of information for the Knights to connect at a later date.

The target, then, is closer to home- the Grimmerzhul Trading Post within the Seven Pillared Hall, the Knights figure they can fill in the gaps with the help of a Duergar hostage, all they need to do now is to take the Trading Post.

“Lucan.” Cathal calls, five minutes later the Elven Rogue is on his way, apparently there's a back way in to the Trading Post, Cathal meanwhile heads for the front door.

Five more minutes and Cathal is at and in the Trading Post, Lucan likewise- and unseen by its inhabitants.





“Have you got Kord in your life?” Cathal rattles his collection tin.

The inhabitants of the Duergar Trading Post are a stern and unfriendly bunch, they try their best but...

“Vot ist du vanting?”
“I'm here to spread the news- Kord's in town and he's recruiting.” Cathal states with a wholesome grin.
“Vot?”
“Vord?” The other Duergar pronounces.
“No, Kord.” Cathal corrects.
“Vord, zat is vot ich sprecken.”
“Du bist ein dummkopf.”

And on it goes, see below for a picture of the cheery fellows manning the store.





“Vor za last time, vee do not sell Veels, Vorter or Vinscreen Vipers!”

It gets testy, and by testy I mean wiolent.

Charging in after Lucan at the back door is Rock, and Rock don't care much for bad Dwarves, be they Grey or otherwise- it's clobberin' time.

To coincide with the screams now coming from the back rooms of the Trading Post, Cathal leaps over the counter and gets into the mix, rushing in after him are Ignaran and Farkill, oh and Splug- who's giving it large and waving his rusty shortsword about, “Benat'ass”, but staying away from the fight.

Initially Cathal, Farkill and Ignaran have two Duergar Guards to contend with- which quickly becomes one, then the Duergar Theurge turns up- fires a Vile Fumes into their midst, blinding Splug and Farkill. He follows it up with a Wave of Despair which leaves Cathal spinning. Ignaran, now in Bear form, is taking out his aggression on the Duergar Guard left standing.

In the back rooms Rock and Lucan quickly combine to see off one of the Duergar Guards, there's another still standing- actually stumbling out of his quarters where he was sleeping. Then Kedhira appears, a Duergar Swordmage- she calls out Rock, who arches his eyebrows, then pouts- a lady Dwarf, and steps up to meet her.

“I vill kill du.” Kedhira mouths.
“Slowly I 'ope.” Rock mouths back and blows Kedhira a kiss.

The two only have eyes for each other, and large pointed weapons- they dance a while.

Meanwhile Lucan settles the beef of the second Duergar Guard, Ignaran does the same for the Guard he's facing- which just leaves the two Duergar officer classes.

And lots of Knights- all no longer blind.

The dancing goes on for a little while longer, Cathal gets bloodied, as does Rock- however the Duergar Theurge is finally knocked to the floor and quickly surrenders, Kedhira does the same a little after.

“Ve are surrenderink.”
“Tayk me too zer leader.” Rock tries to shape the words.

The Duergar Trading Post is taken.





Bad Dwarf! Bad Dwarf!

The Knights complete a thorough search of the Trading Post, find a little treasure and a note, see below, yet more evidence.

[DM Interlude Encounter #83 [1300 XP = Level 6] Duergar Guard x4 (Level 5 Soldiers); Duergar Theurge (Level 6 Controller) & Kedhira, Duergar Swordmage (Level 6 Soldier).]





That's a critical fail on the not attracting anyone's attention then.

And there endeth the 23rd session of play, the Knights have clocked up a respectable 15,540 XP between them in this session.

Next week... I think some people may get hurt, just a guess.


----------



## Goonalan

For the best way to read this thread then go to- Thread Tools and 'Show Printable Version', all you have to do is click on the links for the images. Only sometimes ENWorld resizes all the images, seemingly at random.

The Friday Knights

Session 24- In search of the Grimmerzhul.

This week in play we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Eruan, Eladrin Wizard Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 5
Ignaran, Human Druid Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5

[DM Interlude- that's right, check out the shiny new Mage. After many conversations with Paul who plays Aeolace it is decided that we should look for a new player, no matter what night we play on etc. a familiar story. And so, at the drop of a hat, Bob appears- another Serb, and Zoran's (Farkill) friend- he's heard about the game and...]

[DM Interlude- Lucan is missing presumed... well, missing.]

Last time we visited the Knights, they had themselves a pair of Duergar to play with, Kedhira, who Rock has taken quite a shine to, the Swordmage; and Fred, a Theurge- that's Mage to you.

“Ve vill say nuffink.”
“Go on then.” Farkill states.
“Vot?”
“Say it.” Farkill states again.
“Say vot?”
“No, not 'vot', say 'nuffink', it's funny with your accent.”
“You are taking der viss?”

[DM Interlude for those that are aware of the UK TV series 'Allo! Allo!', that's what I was aiming for in game, for those that are not aware of the phenomena then brother you have lived through dark times- a masterpiece.]

The Knights alas cannot keep a straight face, the interrogation isn't going well.

“Vot iz zer problem?”
“Vy are zay laffink at uz?”

Eventually the two Duergar are dragged away, to the Custom House this time, and there put under lock and key by a reformed Brugg, who is happier now than he has ever been. No more Bloodreavers, no more Mages of Saruun, he's in hog-heaven, and completely in awe of the Knights.

And still the Knights do not know the way to the Grimmerzhul, although now they know the fortress is called the Horned Hold and is ruled by Murkelmore Grimmerzhul, the Duergar Chief.

Unsure of which rock to look under next the Knights make for the Inn, they generally have all their good ideas when they've got a drink in hand.

There's someone waiting for them-

“I am Eruan, I have been sent here to meet with you- it is very important, can we talk?”

Cathal bites his beard, looks around the bar and shrugs at a quiet table.

“You are the Friday Knights, I have heard much about you- the things you have accomplished, you are to be congratulated.” Eruan bows to each and every one of the Knights.

Still suspicious the Knights gawp a little.

“What are you selling?” Farkill finally asks.

“I'm not, that is... Myself. My name is Eruan, I am beholden to the Crown of Fellscarp, I have been sent here to meet with you, to work with you if you will accept me- I have been charged to ensure that a certain item... a shall-we-say, ruinous rod, does not fall into the hands of our enemies, if possible to see it destroyed.” Eruan states.

[Fellscarp, have I mentioned Fellscarp before... I guess not. The Feywild and the Shadowfell are mirrors of the Material Plane, and so a Fey and Shadowfell version of Fallcrest and the Nentir Vale exists in both of these places. Fellscarp is Fallcrest, only in the Feywild, obviously it's a very different city but you get my drift... Eruan's from Fellscarp, more of this later, actually much later.]

“Ruinous rod?” Farkill looks puzzled.
“The Rod of Ruin.” Cathal unravels the conundrum.
“Ohhhhh.” The penny drops for Farkill.

Eruan it seems has papers- from the Crown of Fellscarp, and from the Markelhays in Fallcrest- he looks to be legit, it's not enough for Rock however, who's had a few.

“Anuther laydee Elf- wherez the sense in that, I bet he can't even drink.”

Suitably insulted Eruan takes up the challenge- a drinking competition, it draws a crowd.

Five minutes later and the only loser is Ignaran, he decides at the last moment to enter the competition also- the already inebriated Rock, and Eruan the Eladrin, go head-to-head, drink for drink. The Druid however gets half his second glass of Plumtree's Olde Nubbins down him and yacks all down his robes, and then passes out while trying to do his elephant impression, which is almost impossible to do wearing a robe.

Ulthand, of the Deepgem variety, is in the Halfmoon also- he searches out Cathal.

“Please sir, please Mr. Holy-Knight sir. Find my Mr. Slash sir- I miss him so. I MISS HIM SIR. I REALLY DO MISS 'IM. OH DO SAY YOU WILL?”

By the end of the speech Ulthand is screaming, and sobbing- very emotional the Dwarves, obviously.

The whole bar waits on- desperate to hear if Cathal will take the quest.

“Alright.” Cathal states and stomps off, clearly unmoved.

The final encounter of the evening is with Vadriar the Sage, informed of the Knights' predicament, their not knowing the location of the Horned Hold, he has since their last meeting grown a back bone.

“I will take you.” He states, when he finally catches up with the Knights.
“What? I mean, Vot?” Farkill enquires.
“I'll take you to where I met the hooded being, the one that stole my memories- you sort him out and get my memories back and then I'll know the way the Horned whatsit...” 
“Hold.” Cathal finishes, and nods, “we leave early.”

[DM Interlude, for those that need to know- whose number includes me, the date is Loonday, the 2nd day of the month of Marpenoth, also known as Leaf-fall, the 10th month of the year 2008, the Year of the Returned Knight. Sorry but we've got a calendar now- did you know the Knights have been adventuring for 34 days in total, less than five weeks- makes you think doesn't it... No, oh well, I'll move on.]

And so the Knights rise early, and with Eruan, and Vadriar the sage in tow- head once again into the Labyrinth, progress is slow- very slow, with intermittent stops.

“Was it... It all looks the same.” Vadriar shrugs, closes his eyes, spins around- mumbling something under his breath 'eenie-meanie purple-weenie', or some such- and stops, near enough, pointing at an exit from the cavern, “this way”, he declares and dashes on.

This madness continues for some time- about three hours to be exact, when the Knights find what they have been looking for.

At least one of the things they have been looking for.

“Bow down to me you scurvy Human dogs, and varied elves, for I am Thane Cardanas, Clan Chief of the Cardanas clan and Thane Under-The-Mountain.”

And sure enough, perched on a ledge, actually a walk way that runs around the cavern the Knights traverse, is Thane Cardanas- a stout and hiccuping Dwarf with the reddest face the Knights have ever seen. He's not finished.

“Mongrels pay homage to your mighty King, bow before me else my rough underlings will make merry about your craven coxcombs.” He sways and staggers.

The Dwarf has a battered looking unremarkable iron crown balanced precariously on his head, and a tapped keg under his right arm, a tankard in his left hand.

Four inebriated members of cursing humanity stagger into view, they're on the lower level of the cavern, the same elevation as the Knight, they grin and gurn- dumb from booze and lack-of-brains.

“Thane Cardanas?” Rock enquires.
“Yes.”
“The Thane Cardanas?” Rock tries again.
“YES!”
“The Great Thane Cardanas?” Rock goes again.
“Yes, what is it?” Cardanas preens a little.
“I've got a letter for you.” Rock holds up a folded piece of paper.

Cardanas has nowhere to go with this new information.

“You'd better come up then.” He signals.

Rock makes his way around and up, still holding the folded piece of paper above his head.

Gets up close and then hands over the missive, with a bow.

Thane Cardanas examines the paper, it's blank, both sides.

“There's nothing on this.” Caradanas growls.
“Are you sure?” Rock muses.

Cardanas carefully examines both sides of the paper again- blank.

“Yes, I'm sure.”
“It had a letter on it- just one.” Rock is insistent.
“One letter?”
“Yes.”
“What was it- I mean which one, which letter?”
“I can't... That is... Y'know, I'm not sure.” Rock scratches his chin, then swiftly smashes the Thane in the back of his head with his hammer- causing the drunken Thane to tumble off the ledge.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh.” The Thane lands.
“That was it.” Rock follows after- leaping down hammer first.

The Human Berserkers, tanked up on a foul mix of fungal juices, are swatted and battered till they lie still. The good Thane Cardanas is also quickly killed- the crown retrieved.





Thane down.

[DM Interlude Encounter #84 [1200 XP = Level 5] Human Berserker x4 (Level 5 Brutes) & Thane Cardanas, Dwarf Bolter (Level 5 Elite Artillery (Leader)).]

The Thane's temporary camp site is searched- lots more of the foul fungal brew, some rotten meat and nothing of worth.

The Knights head on, Vadriar using his patented spin-the-bottle technique to determine the way to go. And just when Cathal finally reaches the end of his patience with the mad Sage.

“Do you actually know...”
“Shush.” Eruan motions for silence, “there's something ahead.”

Silence.

The Knights creep forward.

Or as near to silence as the Knights can manage.

Which is a sort of noisy silence.

A clanking silence.

With heavy footfalls.

Creaks.

And groans.

The odd whispered 'sorry', when someone treads on someone else's foot.

That kind of silence.

Thank Moradin for the chanting then.

“Yewonleegettan...”
“Oooooooooooo...”
“Widty...”
“Phooooooooooo...”
“Yewonleegettan...”
“Oooooooooooo...”
“Widty...”
“Phooooooooooo...”

And on it circles- around the corner the Knights spy a drop off, that is to say a short ledge with a set of carved stone stairs leading down to a lower section. The sounds come from there, they creep forward, suddenly part of the wall opens one huge yellow-ish eye, then detaches itself and unfolds into a tentacled monstrosity- a Grick.

Below, in the depression, a clutch of Troglodytes and a robed figure stand within a crudely carved magic circle, the robed figure leads the chanting, the Trogs provide the Ooooo's and Phoooo's.

There's also a crude stone altar down there, the robed figure spots the Knights' disturbance, casts off his hood and reveals.

Oh, just another Trog.

But not just any old Troglodyte, a Curse-Chanter.

“That's the fellow.” Vadriar cries.

The Knights get to work, first up- the Grick.

Ignaran goes Beartastic, starts clawing at the tentacled beast, Rock adds his weight and between them the pair manage to back the Grick away from the rest of the Knights.

Down below the two Troglodyte Marauders head on up the stairs, illuminated briefly by Eruan's Scorching Blast.

[DM Interlude- same trick, different Wizard- and 'no', not at all boring- I remember the Magic Missile days of D&D.]

Cathal rushes down the stairs to meet the pair and is hit by a Poison Ray en route, he coughs and splutters but gets into the action, his blows have no strength behind them however- he's weakened. The Marauders aren't though- they hit hard.

Farkill follows the Knight of Kord down and is soon holding his own- the Knights are fighting out a  stalemate, with Eruan for the Knights, and the Curse Chanter for the Trogs using their ranged powers in an effort to tip the balance.

Finally something breaks, in this instance it's the Grick as it's finally sent tumbling off the ledge, landing below with an echoing-

SPLAT!

It ceases thrashing, Rock follows after- finding, just, a semi-soft spot in which to fall.  Somewhat winded, the Dwarf gets up and moves to menace the Curse Chanter.

Suddenly one of the Troglodyte Marauders vanishes and reappears next to the Curse Chanter.

Cathal, Farkill, and now Ignaran crush the lonesome Marauder left fending them off, the Knights converge on the Curse Chanter, with Eruan's Magic Missiles peppering the foe.

It's soon over.





Troglodytes Troglodytes Latin name for the... oh hang on, that's a Robin.

[DM Interlude Encounter #85 [1350 XP = Level 6] Grick (Level 8 Brute), Troglodyte Mauler x2 (Level 7 Soldiers) & Troglodyte Curse Chanter (Level 9 Controller (Leader)).]

The place, and its former inhabitants, are searched- a few gold and some trinkets are found; nothing of great worth; which just leaves the Magic Circle and the altar to deal with.

Look away now...

Twenty minutes later Vadriar has completed his map showing the route from the Seven Pillared Hall to the Horned Hold, the Grimmerzhul Duergar lair.

Of the altar and Magic Circle there is not a trace, save some rubble.

The curse is lifted.

The Knights head back to the Hall, at a steady pace, but with no further interruptions- a pleasant day out for all.

Excursion over, back in the Hall the Knights pay yet another visit to Gendar the Drow, receive payment, argue a little with the Merchant- he's a D-R-O-W remember, and then grudgingly retire to the Inn for the night.

Although that doesn't go quite to plan- the Halfmoon Inn is in uproar, try saying that when you're drunk- two confused looking Drow, yep more of 'em, are being shoved about by an angry Dragonborn- Surina, the Knights have seen the Dragonborn around the Halls, she's known to have a short fuse.

It gets ugly, and racist.

The Knights step in.

On the side of the Drow.

Surina is quick to draw her weapon but the Knights are in the mood for placating, it takes a while but eventually they spy the light at the end of the tunnel, Surina slopes away- biting off curses.

Which just leaves the Drow to contend with.

“We ar ear tew see de Ordinatore. Yes, pleez? De Ordinatore- e ow yew say, er... Magnifico.” The Drow doing the talking mimes... I dunno, your guess is as good as mine- explosions perhaps.

Cathal looks nonplussed, Farkill giggles a little and joins in, not helping matters.

“E iz Magico!” More Drow mime follows.
“The Wizards. Mages of Saruun.” Cathal cuts to the chase.
“Si, si, si.” The Drow nods enthusiastically.
“THE WIZARDS... EL MAGICO THEY-O GONE-O.” Farkill helps out.

And suddenly there's one more person in the conversation.

The crowd in the bar draw back instinctively, the robed fellow who has just appeared within their midst looks like he means business.- by his dress but most of all his demeanour.

“I am the Ordinator Arcanis, I speak for the Mages of Saruun. Halfmoon- drinks for everyone in the bar.”

There's a kerfuffle, people trying to get to the bar, Rock saunters over- with a drink already, it pays to be at the front of the queue, and wielding a Craghammer it seems.

“I thought you lot had done one?” He asks the Mage.
“Done one?”
“Yer, scarpered; cleared-out; high-tailed it...” Rock continues.
The Mage looks down at himself, examines his robes carefully- checking to see if he's actually standing there.
“Doesn't look like it does it?”

Rock looks a little put out, the temperature rises.

“And yet we have noted your actions, both here in the Hall and further afield- within the Labyrinth. We applaud your efforts, we thank you for your bravery and your honour.” The Mage of Saruun quickly continues.

The Ordinator Arcanis bows a little to each of the Knights.

“We were still formulating our attack plans on the Bloodreavers when you managed to sever their hold on the Hall. We will however attempt to offer you any assistance you need in the future, subject to available resources. Once again I thank you. And now...”

The Ordinator motions for the Drow to follow him out of the Inn.

“Is that it?” Cathal asks.
“For now, yes.” The Ordinator Arcanis states, and over his shoulder, “carry on.”
“Dick.” Rock declares.

A short conversation later and the Knights are somewhat reassured, it seems the Mages of Saruun always act this way, although they haven't been seen in the Halls for quite some time of course.





The Knights defend the Drow- ahh context, I get it.

[DM Interlude- Mike, who plays Ignaran has to leave to go to work.]

And so in play now we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Eruan, Eladrin Wizard Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5

The next day Terrlen leads the Knights out of the Halls, the guide is following Vadriar's map, which turns out to be amazingly accurate.  It's an easy journey, although they have at least eight hours travel ahead.

Only three hours in things go awry.

For Farkill.

One moment he's there.

The next he's not, or else.

The Knights hear an odd sound.

SQUISH-SLUUUUUUUUUURP!

Where's Farkill gone?

They peer around a rock column and spot the Dwarf, seemingly floating in the air.

“Mmmmm Mmmm MM MMMMmmmm!” He says.

The Knights blink- not sure what they are seeing.

“Gelatinous Cube!” Eruan screams, and sure enough.

Inside the Cube Farkill waves frantically, and burns.

There's a scramble for weapons, which gets all the more frantic when three ragged outlines of humanoids waft out of the dark and straight for the Knights- Wraiths.

What they need now is a Priest who can turn Undead.

Farkill waves some more from inside his gelatine prison.

Eruan teleports to safety and starts with the fire, a Flaming Sphere appears behind the Gelatinous Cube and begins to melt the creature.

Cathal and Rock pound the Cube in an effort to extract Farkill before the Wraiths arrive on the scene.  They manage to bloody and batter the creature, but it's not enough- Farkill still suffers within. The Cube however lashes out at Rock, stings him a little with its pseudopod, and immobilises the Dwarf.

The Wraiths leap in, Cathal breaks off to hold two the creatures at bay, he's quickly weakened by their Shadow Touch, he flails and screams for Rock to extricate Farkill.

He needn't have bothered, Farkill gets himself out, ripping the fast dissolving Cube open with his bare hands, and with the help of the Flaming Sphere of course- the Cube is battered, and tattered, and broken.

It lurches off- trying to escape the Knights, alas it now has a Flaming Sphere for company, and where it goes, the sphere follows- less than twenty seconds later it's reduced to a pool of bubbling mess.

“By Moradin's beard!” Farkill screams and presents his Holy Symbol- the effect is dramatic- one of the Wraiths dissolves to nothing and the other two are sent flying backwards- thump into the cavern walls and sag, all the fight gone out of them.

“Shall we dance?” Cathal adds, twitches his moustache and lays into the immobilised Wraiths, Rock winks at Farkill and follows on, Farkill bringing up the rear.

The Wraiths  are destroyed in short order.

Terrlen the guide, a little later, climbs out of the hole he's been hiding in and leads the Knights on.





Gelatinous Cubes- fun for all the family.

[DM Interlude Encounter #85 [1250 XP = Level 7] Wraith x3 (Level 6 Lurker) & Gelatinous Cube (Level 6 Elite Brute). Close... but no cigar.]

And so the Knights head on, in search of the Horned Hold, and here endeth the 24th session of play with the Knights having clocked up 11,962 XP between them in this short-ish session.

Next week... Rock's sister is pregnant.


----------



## Goonalan

The Friday Knights

Session 25- Into the Horned Hold.

This week in play we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Eruan, Eladrin Wizard Level 4
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5

[DM Interlude- Zoran will be with us when he's done with work; and Bob, who plays Eruan, will not be with us at all- he's on holiday, but because we have missed the Mage so much we've decided to 'bot' him- besides three PCs is not enough.]

Terrlen leads the Knights on, another five hours on- they're getting tired, although...

“Moradin preserve us...” Farkill exclaims.
“Wheeeoooow!” Rock whistles.
“Dwarven craftsmanship.” Farkill beams.
“Grey Dwarves!” Cathal spits and sneers.





The Horned Hold, sounds like a blast!

“Lucan!” Cathal orders, the Elven Rogue tuts a little and mooches forward, disappearing completely into the shadows. 

The path winds on to a portcullised guard chamber, no way in, save through the portcullis- which is quite definitely guarded, large orcs- solid black in colour laugh and tell bawdy tales, in Orcish. Lucan creeps closer for a better look, the portcullis is locked on the inside, however the lock is accessible, sort of... He returns to the Knights to deliver his report.

A plan is hatched- a new plan, it resembles the old plan- Rock's Postman routine but has a little twist, several moments later...

Rock rattles the gate, which causes the Orcs, there's four of the lumbering brutes within, to grab for their weapons and present themselves front and centre.

“Watcha wan'?” The first Orc growls.
“I've come to see Murkelmore.” Rock snaps and looks testy.
“Wha' fur?”
“I've come to tell him that my sister's pregnant, and he's the father- he needs to do the right thing by her.” Rock looks googly-eyed, like 'no' is not an option, lets this new information hang in the air.

The Orcs have nowhere to go with this, they blankly look from one to another, finally one grunts and whispers something in Orcish.

“Get Murkelmore”, Rock snaps off and rattles the gate hard.

An Orc scurries off, the Orcs watch on- not getting too close to the gate, Rock looks to be less than pleased with the Duergar Chief, and he's armed and looking very dangerous.

Throughout this charade Lucan, concealed to the side of the gate, has been examining and then with the use of some specialist lock picks, doing his best to fathom the lock on the gate, so far he's been lucky- none of the Orcs, who have eyes only for the angry Dwarf, have spotted him.

A Grey Dwarf arrives.

“Vot is goink on mit du?” The Grey Dwarf barks.

At which point Cathal, concealed on the other side of the portcullis, kicks the now unlocked gate open and slices and cuts the Duergar Scout open.

The rest of the Knights rush in, but not before Eruan has planted a Scorching Blast amidst the defenders.

“Play time...” Cathal growls.





Murkelmore is going to be a daddy!

The Duergar Scout disappears, that is goes invisible, which is a new twist on the Knights, meanwhile Rock and Cathal have already reduced two of the Blackhand Orcs to mush, the last three are fighting hard but are being backed into a corner.

Eruan continues to offer artillery support- making it very difficult for the Orcs to get away.

A pair of well made double doors on the opposite side of the guard chamber open, seemingly of their own accord, Lucan guesses right and spins out a dagger- it connects and the Duergar Scout reappears clutching at his side, very bloodied.

The Grey Dwarf's scream is cut short as he's hit by a Magic Missile and Lucan's dagger again- dead. The Orcs don't last long, save the one who is knocked unconscious, the chamber is taken, and by the sound of things the fortress has not been alerted. The Knights search the chamber and the inhabitants- find a few coins on the Duergar, the Orcs have nothing- and look to have been treated roughly- clearly they are not on an equal footing with the Duergar, a piece of information the Knights file away for later use.





Cathal arrives uninvited.

[DM Interlude Encounter #87 [1500 XP = Level 8] Orc Berserker x5 (Level 5 Brutes) & Duergar Scout (Level 5 Lurker).]

The captured Orc proves his worth, alas none of the Knights speak the Orc tongue, and he has only broken Common.  Via charades the Knights come to understand that the Orcs are really not that keen on the Duergar- they're slaves, of a sort, to the Grey Dwarves.

The Knights have an ally, it seems there are more Orcs present- it bodes well for the Knights. The Knights also notice that the Blackhand Orcs do not actually have black hands- that is to say while their skin colour is a dull ebony colour their hands, where the pigmentation has worn away, are actually quite pale- odd, but not remarked upon at this juncture.

[DM Interlude- except by the DM who is foreshadowing something, wink!]

The Knights, lead by a stealthy Lucan, head on in.

A number of chambers are cursorily investigated including- an armoury, two barracks- one for Orcs the second for Duergar and a chamber with a well in it.

Of note however is the racket coming from a chamber to the west, the Orc mimes a forge- actually on the third guess the Knights get what the Orc is miming, first guess, from Rock, is a pizza parlour.

A plan is formulated.

[DM Interlude- with only three players in game, and me not reducing the difficulty of the encounters the players present are doing a lot more in the way of planning ahead of the encounters, forced to be resourceful they have come up trumps.]

Eventually the Blackhand Orc plays his part- slams into the chamber beyond and calls for the two Orc Berserkers within to follow him, the Duergar within grumble but do nothing to prevent the pair from leaving. Nonplussed, the wary Orc Berserkers step outside- and meet the Knights, the revolution of the Blackhand Orcs begins here.

The Knights explain their situation, the toothy Orcs, after a few dicey moments, come round to the Knights' way of thinking.

The Knights, with Orcish reinforcements, take positions and then drift into the chamber- a workshop in which a Duergar Scout aids a heavily muscled Duergar Master Smith at his forge.

“Put down your weapons- you are our prisoners.” Cathal states.

Urwol, the Duergar Master Smith, is having none of it- he knocks into the Duergar Scout- waking him from his stupor, the Scout turns invisible, and retreats. En route he takes a dagger to the back courtesy of a previously hidden Lucan.

Urwol begins screaming in Orcish- it doesn't sound pleasant, whatever it is he says it has the desired effect, the two new recruits to the Blackhand revolution switch sides and begin laying into the Knights. The Knights original Orc captive ducks out of the chamber, not supporting either side for now- content to see how things stand in a few bloody moments.

A fiery light bathes Rock, Lucan and Cathal- their weapons glow red hot and burn their hands, Urwol's Fire of the Forge power leaves them struggling to connect, and still burning, and yet the three grip tight to their blades.

The Scout reappears ideally placed to plant his hammer in Rock's back- which he does- the Dwarven Fighter spins round and engages the new foe, delivers a devastating Crushing Blow which is made worse when Lucan slips his dagger in to the Duergar's back- the Scout is dead, and moments later Cathal with a little help from Eruan takes care of the first turncoat Blackhand Orc- the other fights on.

Rock and Lucan, the pair now moving towards Urwol, are caught in a blast of Vile Fumes- Lucan left blinded, gagging and retching while Rock, unharmed, rushes in to smash the Smith.

Moments later reinforcements arrive as the final turncoat Blackhand Orc is dealt with- it's suddenly five onto one, the first Blackhand Orc to join the Knights gets in on the act, siding with the Knights.

Urwol attempts to flee, alas he has to get through the Knights to get to anywhere worth fleeing to.

“Pimmelschleckers!”

He doesn't make it.

The workshop returns to silence, save the crackle and the hiss of the fire in the forge. 





Mr. Smith takes a beating.

[DM Interlude Encounter #88 [850 XP = Level 5] Orc Berserker x2 (Level 5 Brutes); Duergar Scout (Level 5 Lurker) & Urwol, Duergar Master Smith (Level 6 Controller).]

The first tower within the Horned Hold is taken, a thorough search is undertaken, with their new found Blackhand Orc friend leading the way.





Tower #1, now Knight territory.

The Knights, well mostly Lucan, locate some cash, and on the wall in what looks to be Urwol, the Duergar Master Smith's, bedroom an ugly looked Skull-topped Rod, which rings a bell. The Blackhand Orc looks suitably impressed with the device- actually he bows down before it.

The Knights have located the ceremonial rod that Gendar (the Drow) spoke of- their Orc companion vows (in mime) to serve the Knights in their holy crusade to kill the Duergar, he also mimes some more about there being other Blackhand Orcs in the largest of the fortresses three redoubts to the north.

A seemingly unkempt, and therefore unused, stone bridge leads from the tower to the redoubt to the north, the Knights take no chances and barricade the door their side- preventing the Grey Dwarves from attacking them from the rear.

[DM Interlude- and then Farkill, that is Zoran, arrives from work; let's pretend he's been here all along, but in an advisory capacity only, yeah- that'll work.]

And so (ahem) this week in play we have-

Cathal, Human Fighter Level 6
Eruan, Eladrin Wizard Level 4
Farkill, Dwarven Priest of Moradin Level 5
Lucan, Elven Rogue Level 5
Rock, Dwarven Fighter Level 5

Another wide passage leads on to the second Tower within the fortress, the Knights head down it, once again Lucan ahead scouting the way.

The Knights wait up a while, allowing Lucan to do his thing.

[DM Interlude- Lucan, that is Jack, hates scouting, at least it sounds like he's not that keen, then again Jack does laconic like it's going out of fashion. Lucan's rules of scouting are as follows- 1. Find enemies; 2. Find unguarded treasure before the rest of the Knights arrive. He divides his time 20/80 on these two pursuits.]

The Elven Rogue heads in and discovers- an empty Hall which ends in a double door which obviously leads into a guard chamber, Lucan can hear Duergar quietly chatting within. A storeroom which contains absolutely no treasure, Lucan takes ten minutes to check it over- thoroughly, he's very disappointed. Another set of double doors that leads into some kind of mess hall, more Duergar within. Lastly a rough looking bed chamber, once again with no treasure, with a door that seems to lead into a very warm and occupied room- Lucan spies within, it's a kitchen.

Disappointed he reports back,

Once again a plan is formulated, Lucan and Farkill are to take out the guardroom; while Rock, Cathal and Eruan storm the mess hall- the Knights split their forces. Eruan however will be on call should things go awry for either group.

Initially the plan goes well.

Rock and Cathal swarm into the mess hall- there are only two Duergar present, Eruan provides Magic Missile support and the defenders connect with some good hits. Unaware that the Duergar they're now trading blows with is Rundarr, the Duergar Champion. A door crashes open and a third Duergar, another Guard crashes into the chamber- that makes the odds even, three onto three.

Meanwhile Lucan and Farkill get the drop on the two Duergar Scouts in the guard room, concentrate fire on one of them and bloody the Grey Dwarf, a moment later the Duergar pair disappear from sight.





The Pincer Movement, favoured by crabs.

“I forgot they did that.” Farkill states swatting everything, and nothing, before him.
“Me too.” Lucan adds with a grin.

A moment later- when the fighting has completely stalled, the Scouts have not reappeared, the pair share a long look then in unison scream.

“ERUAN!”

Meanwhile in the mess hall a servant, one of the Human Slaves the Knights are looking for, steps out of the kitchen bearing a tray full of steaming plates of food; he takes in the situation.

“I'll come back when you're less busy.”

And scampers back inside the kitchen and cowers.

The first Duergar Guard has fallen, the second is engaged with Cathal, Rock is trading blows with Rundarr, the pair are wearing each other down, although if it continues this way Rock will be the first to fall.

Seconds later they're both bloodied.

“Har-har. Veel zee about zis.” Rundarr proclaims, and suddenly gets much bigger.





Rundarr is engorged!

The fight is evenly matched, perhaps even a little lopsided, in favour of the Duergar- a nail biting finish to follow.

Or at least you'd think so.

The much large Rundarr smashes his hammer into Rock- hard.

[DM Interlude- critical hit for 19 damage, Rock is on 6 Hit Points.]

Rundarr attacks again, Rock is done for- or so it seems - the Duergar Champion is winning the fight, not even with Cathal's help can the Knights expect to win through. Particularly as Eruan is now being menaced by the remaining Duergar Guard, and Farkill and Lucan are still alone in the dark, as it were, with no enemies in sight.

[DM Interlude- from here to the end of the fight is a further eight rounds of action, Rundarr attacks twice per round with his hammer, and has an Action Point to spend- which he does, on another two attacks. He needs a 10 to hit Cathal, an 11 to hit Rock. He misses every time- he dies on the seventh round, that's 16 rolls of nine or below, actually there's one roll of '10' in there but he was attacking Rock that round. Remember this takes over thirty minutes to play out- I'm not laughing. Rock survives the battle on 6 Hit Points- still.]

[DM Interlude- I'm not describing the rest of the action for this fight, it still irks me to this day.]

The Knights are victorious.

Big deal!

Woohoo!

Have a biscuit!

ers!

[DM Interlude Encounter #89 [1400 XP = Level 6] Duergar Guard x2 (Level 5 Soldiers); Duergar Scout x2 (Level 5 Lurkers) & Rundarr, Duergar Champion (Level 7 Elite Brute). Like I care.]

[DM Interlude- Lucan now has enough XP to gain Level 6, after an extended rest of course, the smart arse.]

The Knights eventually get into the kitchen, and discover the first of the slaves they have been sent to rescue.  There's much rejoicing, particularly by the now former slaves, they get a little too excited and have to be calmed down.

The second tower is thoroughly searched, as are the former inhabitants, a heap of coin and a set of magical Dwarven Greaves, formerly belonging to Rundarr, Cathal takes these.





Tower #2, the Knights expand their holdings.

The Knights take lunch, it tastes like chicken whatever it is- the Underdark KFC is open for business.

“Mmmm. Chicken!” Farkill tucks in.
“How many legs does a chicken have?” Cathal asks.
“Two.” Farkill repies, after a little thinking time, then looks at the platter before them, the segmented body has maybe three-dozen legs, is perhaps four feet long, and thin- not at all like a chicken, it also lacks wings.

“I'm full...” Farkill states and pushes his half-finished dinner away from him.

The slaves meanwhile have a story to tell- about Framath, the terrible Duergar Chief Theurge and the Slave Pits to the north in the third tower- where the rest of the captives from the Nentir Vale reside. Then on to Murkelmore, the Duergar Chief of the Grimmerzhul, who also resides to the north,  and lastly that one of the bridges across the chasm to the north is never used, the chambers abandoned.- said to be haunted.

Which gives the Knights an idea.

After dinner both of the bridges are observed for a while- nothing stirs, eventually a decision is made and the the Knights re-open the unused bridge. 

Lucan crouches below the low parapet of the bridge and crawls over- unobserved seemingly.





A bridge too far.

Lucan breaks in to the long abandoned chamber, the door was locked, but now... it swings open, it's a real mess within.

The Elven Rogue searches through the broken rubble, listens at a door and hears voices beyond, clearly another Duergar guard chamber- locates another door heading in the same direction, hears nothing from within and so opens it to see what's beyond.

And comes face to face with a Duergar Theurge, who's not that pleased to see him.

“Mailman?” Lucan mumbles.
“Vot!” The Duergar Theurge replies and then screams at the top of his lungs- other doors begin to open and more Duergar appear.

Lucan screams like a little girl, throws his dagger and slows down a Duergar Guard before legging it back to the bridge, and out- he meets the Knights in full tilt heading in the opposite direction, waits till he's at the back of the queue, and then follows them back in, after first waiting a few seconds.

The Knights smash into the chamber, en masse, save Lucan of course, and are caught in the Theurge's Hail of Brimstone, which leaves Cathal and Eruan on their ass, and singed.

Rock charges into the guard room proper and finds himself facing two Duergar Guards, both uninjured, and two animate Arbalesters which...

Thwong! 

And Thwong!

Fire huge metal-tipped arrows-cum-spears into him- he's bloodied in an instant, nevertheless he fights on, with Cathal arriving a little while later in an attempt to even up the fight.

Meanwhile Lucan, Eruan- who is in combat (?) and Farkill have a third Duergar Guard surrounded, not one of them heads for the Duergar Theurge, who unchallenged blasts away at the trio.

What's worse they make hard work of the lone Duergar Guard, and before the three-on-one fight is over it's two-on-one, Eruan clutches the rubble floor unconscious.

[DM Interlude- Bob, who plays Eruan, has been with us one session, he's not even here this week, and it seems he could be the first Knight to die in action. The players take it in turns to make the Eladrin's death saving throws. He fails two in a row, of course.]

At last Rock and Cathal have the two guards down but not before both are bloodied and sporting horrendous wounds courtesy of the animated Arbalesters.

They press on and smash into the strange devices, the steroid-abusing crossbows are no match for the pair in melee- and are soon reduced to flinders.

Meanwhile Farkill and Lucan kill the third Duergar Guard and make it over to the Duergar Theurge, who in trying to escape merely runs into Rock and Cathal- it's quickly over.

At which point Farkill remembers that he's a Cleric and goes and heals Eruan.

[DM Interlude- that's what happens when the players are so wrapped up in their own characters actions that they forget that the 'botted' PC is still lying on the floor dying.]





Oh look Crossbows on wheels- that's a good i... THWONG!

[DM Interlude Encounter #90 [1250 XP = Level 6] Arbalester x2 (Level 5 Artillery); Duergar Guard x3 (Level 5 Soldier) & Duergar Theurge (Level 6 Controller).]

The Knights conduct a thorough search of the Duergar and their quarters, more coins and number of low value gems, all the same...

After a short rest the Knights press on.





The final redoubt- the easy bit done.

A set of reinforced metal doors ahead- Lucan hears... the sound of Orcs. The Knights' new Blackhand Orc friend is brought forward, Rock rehearses his lines and grasps the Blackhand Orc skull-topped Rod in his hand- and marches in.

“Go free you Blackhand Orcs- the Friday Knights are here to save the day”, Rock declares, and waves the Rod about a bit for good measure.

Which leads to silence.

Eventually the Knights' Orc friend jabbers away in his guttural tongue, seemingly very excited- which leads to smiles all round, at least from the Orcs, the Ogre present is not so sure- where does he fit in?





Fat Reggie worries where his next pay packet is coming from.

“Wat abart Reggie?” Reggie the Ogre enquires, and flexes his muscles.

The Knights stand about- a little crestfallen, the Blackhand Orcs stop jabbering, waiting to see how this is all going to turn out.

“I'll hire you.” Farkill states, the other Knights gawp.
“You'll be my bodyguard here in the Horned Hold.” Farkill declares, fishes out a bag of gold coins, and then folds his arms.

Reggie capers and giggles, then gets his axe.

Cathal is not so happy.

The Blackhand Orcs however are free to go, the Duergar have no right to hold them, their duty is done. Before leaving the Orcs tell tall tales- about how the Duergar decimated their tribe, chased their women and children through the Labyrinth, slew them in order to convince the Warriors of the tribe to serve them. The threat of further killings enough to keep the tribe loyal.

The Blackhand depart, in search of the remains of their tribe, set to wander the Labyrinth in their quest.

Fat Reggie is keen to get on with things, he tells the Knights what lies ahead- Murkelmore next, and then Framuth and the slaves, the Knights ready themselves for further fighting.

Then kick the door down and head on in- “Murkelmore, you're next”, Cathal barks.





Murkelmore awaits the Knights.

And then the 25th session of play draws to a close, the Knights have clocked up 14,962 XP between them this session.

Next week... Hammer time.


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## Richard Rawen

Love(d?) the giant updates Goon, are you still around?
Hopefully, this was a alot of fun to read!
RR


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