# A Lonely Path: a Shackled City Story Hour (the old version, see last post)



## hbarsquared (Mar 14, 2005)

Hello, all, and welcome to my first Story Hour.

This Story Hour, however, may not be like the ones you have read before.  I am not playing with a group and recording our tales of adventure and woe.  Unfortunately, I do not have such a group that I can meet with regularly.  However, I love to read the books, I love to create characters, and I love the _Dungeon_ adventure path.

And so I decided to create a 1st-level character and run her through the Path.  I will be DM, PC, and narrator.  All battle outcomes will be determined by the fall of the dice.  If my main character dies, another will come to take her place.

Since I am trying to remain as true as possible to the _Adventure Path_, some of the text I use will be straight from the magazine, iincluding all of the boxed text.  Anything that I lift from the magazine I will portray in white text in my story hour posts.

By the way, I welcome all comments, critiques and praise!  Feel free to post!

Like I said, it's hard to find a group at home.  So I present to you, for your critique and hopeful enjoyment . . .

*A Lonely Path*
_by Jeremy Tollefson_​
Prologue: The Summons

*Life's Bazaar*
Chapter One: Gone in the Night
Chapter Two: Ghelve's Locks
Chapter Three: Vanishing in Jzadirune

*Flood Season*
​


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## hbarsquared (Mar 14, 2005)

The following will be descriptions of any campaign-specific details that might deviate from the common mold.  For answers to any questions, this will most likely be the place to go.

*The Pantheon* (Updated 5-2-2005)

_Dragon Magazine #329_ is actually responsible for spurring this little thread.  Specifically, the article _Mesopotamian Mythos: From the Cradle of Civilization to Your Game Table_ by David Schwartz.  This pantheon of ancient dieties, straight from the _Epic of Gilgamesh_, was so well-descibed, so well-representative, that I had to use it.

For those of you who do not have access to the article, the following are brief descriptions of the deities mentioned, so far, in the game.


*Ea* (Enki, Master Crafter, Keeper of the Ocean Below)
Lawful Good
Portfolio: Crafts, fresh water, skills, wisdom.
Domains: Good, Knowledge, Law, Water.


*Ninurta* (Lord Plough)
Neutral Good
Portfolio: agriculture, youth, athletics, hunting, messages.
Domains: Good, Plant, Strength, Travel.


*Enlil* (Utu)
Lawful Neutral
Portfolio: air, law, order, retribution, truth.
Domains: Air, Animal, Law, Protection.


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## hbarsquared (Mar 14, 2005)

*Abrina*
1st-level

[sblock]
Female medium humanoid (half-elf)
Neutral Good Cleric (Ninurta) 1

*Init* +1; *Senses* Low-light vision; Spot +4, Listen +4
*Languages* Common, Elven
_________________________________________________

*AC* 18, touch 11, flat-footed 17
*hp* 8 (1 HD)
*Immune* _sleep_ 
*Fort* +2, *Ref* +1, *Will* +5
_________________________________________________

*Spd* 20 ft.
*Melee* +4 masterwork spear (1d8+3/x3)
*Ranged* +1 shortbow (1d6/x3)
*Base Atk* +0; *Grp* +3
*Special Atk* spontaneous casting (_cure_ spells), turn undead (+1, 2d6+2, 1st) 4/day

*Cleric Spells Prepared* (CL 1st, +3 melee touch, +1 ranged touch)1—_divine favor_, _enlarge_*, _magic weapon_
0—_guidance_ (2), _light_
*Domain spell.  _Domains_: Strength (feat of strength 1/day), Travel (_freedom of movement_ 1 round/level/day, Survival is a class skill).​_________________________________________________

*Abilities* Str 16, Dex 13, Con 10, Int 9, Wis 16, Cha 12 (32-point buy)
*SQ* half-elf traits
*Feats* Combat Casting
*Skills* Concentration +4, Diplomacy +3, Gather Information +3, Listen +4, Search +0, Spot +4.

*Possessions* chainmail, heavy wooden shield, _periapt of wound closure_, holy symbol, masterwork spear, shortbow (20 arrows), smokesticks (2), adventurer’s gear.

[/sblock]


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## hbarsquared (Mar 14, 2005)

*Prologue, Part One*


Abrina rehearsed her morning routine with practiced steps and whispered counts in the dusty courtyard as the dawning sun rose above the temples wall behind her.  She cast a long shadow, the outline of her figure a blur.  Her mind fully concentrated on the movements of her legs, her hands, her spear, she destroyed foe after imaginary foe.

In mid-attack, Abrina froze.  Wisps of her hair fell over her eyes, beading sweat just beginning to roll down her temples.  Her muscles bulged, her hands tightened around the shaft of her weapon, and her chest expanded with deep, though controlled, breaths.  Another shadow strode across the courtyard.

Relaxing her stance, Abrina lowered her spear, point directed to the ground, and turned to face her elder.

His hair was gray, his weathered face etched with wrinkles, but his intense emerald eyes were sharp, his back straight.  He wore the clerical vestments of their order, the leather armor beneath his cloak dyed several shades darker than his eyes.  She reached out to him, and he took her hand, enveloping her in a tight hug of greeting.  They pulled back and she smiled.

“Why, good morning, Elder Kevur,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of a dusty arm.  “What brings you to the training grounds?”

Kevur smiled in return and motioned her to follow him.  “I came to see you.  Let’s go inside and talk.  I imagine you could use a glass of water?”  He walked to the edge of the courtyard, into the shade, and held the door open for her.

She followed, puzzled.

Abrina drained the glass and set it carefully back on the table.  Elder Kevur had invited her into his office, one of the rooms in their temple that she had not visited in years.  The last time she had sat in this chair was when she had tripped that boy in practice.  She had been older than he, but he had the gall to insult her style in the middle of the lesson.  He deserved it, but she wasn’t sure it had been worth the disappointment of Elder Kevur.  She fidgeted in the chair as Kevur set a scroll case on his desk and began to unstopper it.

“This,” he said, pulling the parchment from the case, “is a missive from the Master Crafter.”

Abrina’s eyes widened.  “From Ea Himself?”

Kevur paused and his eyebrow raised.  There was a smile behind the crinkling of his eyes.  She sunk back into the chair, her face flushed with embarrassment.  Abrina wondered if he remembered the last time she had been in this spot.  She figured her did; those eyes saw into her soul.

“No,” he said, “From the temple.  From Helena, their head cleric, actually.”  He unfurled the scroll and flattened it with his aged hand.  “We are to deliver a message.  Immediately.”

Kevur scanned the contents once more and sighed.  He turned the parchment around for Abrina to see.  She leaned forward and began to read.
_
Esteemed Elder Kevur, head cleric of Ninurta in our city of Haven,

A matter of grave importance is upon us, and the following information must fly with the grace of your patron. . . .
_


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## Sandain (Mar 14, 2005)

I look forward to reading this, although I'd prefer if it was set in Greyhawk.


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## Herremann the Wise (Mar 14, 2005)

Hi jeremy_dnd

Pulls up a seat, sits down with popcorn and a coke and looking forward to more. This is an interesting exercise you're doing so keep it up. Look forward to reading more of your writing style, it's good.

Best Regards
Herremann the Wise


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## hbarsquared (Mar 16, 2005)

*Prologue, Part Two*


Abrina leaned back, exhausted, stretching her arms out in front of her to lay her palms upon the darkwood of the Elder’s desk.  The letter was a bit much to take in.  Then it slowly began to dawn on her, even as the sun arced into the sky.  She was to be the messenger.

“But, Elder!” she exclaimed, sitting up.  “The games!  They’re next week.  I won’t be back for at least . . .”  She paused to count the days of travel it would take to reach this frontier city of Cauldron.

“Two weeks, Abrina, maybe more.”

“_More?_”

Kevur shot her a wilting glance.

Abrina nodded, slumping back into her chair.  “Yes, Elder.  I understand.  No more whining.”  She would miss the games for the first time in twenty years.  She looked forward to besting the other students of Ninurta every year, not to mention the arrogant storm clerics.  She could do more damage with a stick than they could with their warhammers.  Every year she participated and heard the crowds roar her name, smelled the exotic meats and spices from the vendors outside the arena, saw the magnificent banners waving in the welcoming breeze.  She would miss it all.

“Thank you, Abrina,” Kevur replied.  “The games are to keep us ready for the times Ninurta requires us the most.  This is one of those times.  This is where our faith has led us.  You will be guided by Ninurta on your journey.  I would rather you be here for the games, as well.  I don’t know what we will do without your help, not to mention your arm, at the festival.  But Ninurta has called on us, and it seems he has other plans for you.”

Abrina stood and grasped the spear she had laid against the wall when she arrived.  “I will not fail you, Elder.”

Kevur smiled, rolling the letter back up and sliding it into its case.  “I don’t think you will.”


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## hbarsquared (Mar 22, 2005)

*Prologue, Part Three*

The following day Abrina stood in front of the temple entrance, surrounded by a small circle of her closest friends, and wished her home of the past thirty years goodbye.  Beams of sunlight dodged through the gauntlet of tree leaves dancing in the warm breeze, creating dancing figures on the stonework of the temple.  Shadows played across faces of athletes, laughing in exultation and straining with effort, carved in relief into the marble.  Some concentrated intently as they took aim with bows at targets, others swam through waters populated with any number of sea creatures, and still others bull-jumped.  That last one was Abrina’s favorite.  No one at this temple had put together a bull-jumping competition in years.  It was her goal to be the first.

Abrina sighed again, forcing her gaze away from the temple walls and back to her friends.  Otec tried his best to catch her eye and keep his focus on her, but the sunlight forced him to squint and blink away tears.  Shani, with her long deep brown hair braided down her back, stood at Abrina’s side, clutching her hand as she tried to blink back tears, albeit not from the piercing morning rays.  Elder Kevur stood to her right, and several others in a larger circle around them.  This was to be her farewell, the likes of which no one could recall for their small temple, in the reclusive town of Haven.

“Abrina,” Kevur began, motioning her to turn toward him.  She did, straightening her back and looking the man in his eyes, and did not turn away.

“Abrina, you go forth this day on a quest for your god.  He who brings tidings for good and ill.  For good, so that we may celebrate with festivals and games, food and drink, friends and family.  For ill, so that we may be warned and prepared for the trials to come.  Your journey begins this day to take ill tidings to our far neighbors in the city of Cauldron.  May your return journey bring tidings that give us reason to celebrate.”

Behind Kevur, an acolyte pulled back the string of his bow and loosed an arrow.  It arced overhead, held aloft in mid-air as if Ninurta Himself sought to grasp it and fling it across the land.  Finally, it fell among a riotous garden of colorful flowers, a martial sentinel standing guard over its wards.

Everyone’s attention returned to Abrina and Kevur.  Around his neck he wore an amulet, one Abrina had not seen him wear before, or had even seen anyone at the temple wear.  A bright red stone that seemed to glow with an inner fire dangled from a golden chain, like a bead of blood still clinging to the smallest of cuts.  It was this amulet that Kevur slowly removed from his head and placed it over Abrina’s own.  As it descended, the light chain falling upon her shoulders and the stone falling upon her breast, she felt a warmth spread through her body and a sense of calm and safety fell over her heart.


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## hbarsquared (Mar 25, 2005)

*Prologue, Part Four*


“It will protect you at your weakest, in your greatest need, Abrina.  The Periapt of the Fallen was worn by the founder of our temple, the Great Elder Sanotay.  He had been charged with a message to deliver, a note that rejoiced in the birth of a prince.  He was to deliver it to a noble that lived in this very city.  But, as he traveled through the barren lands, all manner of beasts fell upon him, barring his way.  He fought them off, but without suffering from many wounds that refused to stop bleeding.

“Near death, he found a small stream, and started to drink what he thought would be the last water to ever pass his parched lips.  As he knelt, praying for forgiveness from Ninurta for failing his mission, his hand found purchase in the wet mud along the bank, and his fist clenched around a small, red stone.  As his wounds overwhelmed him, and his sight went dark, he clutched it to his breast.”

Kevur paused, the only sound was the rustling of leaves, the creaking of tree branches, and the whistle of the wind through the grass.  His audience stood rapt, and Abrina had, unconsciously it seemed, brought her hand to the stone around her neck.  Kevur smiled and continued his tale.

“He awoke, many days later, his wounds closed, his energy renewed.  Sanotay had not failed, for he had strove to continue, to the limits his strength could take him.  When his strength could carry him no more, Ninurta blessed him with a gift that enabled him to succeed.”

“The Periapt of the Fallen is our greatest treasure, and we give it to you for your journey.”

Kevur reached out and embraced her as she felt her own tears swell.  “May Ninurta guide your path,” he whispered.

“And strengthen my arm,” Abrina returned, her head buried in his shoulder.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Kevur replied, chuckling.  “You have no need of His help to retain your strength.”

“Elder!  Blasphemy!” Abrina pulled back, incredulous.  He simply laughed again, his green eyes crinkling.

It took the rest of the morning for her to embrace and say good-bye to each member of her family here at the temple.  Each had parting words for her, some gave her small gives to remember her by.

“It will be only two weeks,” she would say.

“The longest you have been away,” they would reply.  “The longest _any_ of our own have been away.  Be careful.”

And she would nod, hold back a tear, and say good-bye again to the next.


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## hbarsquared (Apr 8, 2005)

*Prologue, Part Five*


She left her town of Haven by the north gate, little more than a small and decorative arch of stone with not even a wall attached.  No one stood guard except for one elderly woman tearing out weeds from her garden.  Abrina sat high upon a muscled and energetic young colt, his reigns handed to her by Kevur after the time for tearful good-byes had come to a close.  Eager for the journey, her mount nearly pranced through the arch, and the two left behind the only home either of them had really known.

* * *​
The journey had been thankfully uneventful.  Towns dotted the countryside, none rarely more than a single day’s travel from each other with small, lonely inns spaced between to insure a place to stay for travelers.  Redgorge, a small town nestled in the slopes of a large volcano that housed the city of Cauldron far above would be the last town where Abrina would find a place to rest before ascending.

The gray and dreary day was just turning into a dark and dreary evening when she led her horse through the lanes of Redgorge.  There had been no rain, but enough moisture in the air soaked the ground to prove troublesome.  Clods of mud fell from her mount’s hooves with every step, streaks of mud stained her cloak and vestments.  As she grumbled to herself, attempting to brush off the larger pieces of wet dirt that slowly ground themselves into her clothes, she passed beneath a faded, gently swinging wooden sign.

With what must have once been bright colors, a stylized monkey had been painted on the square piece of wood.  Long arms nearly twice the length of the creature’s body formed a rough “S” shape, each paw grasping what looked like a six-sided die.  Above the animal, in letters not out of place at a carnival, were the words, “The Lucky Monkey.”  The sign brought a chuckle from Abrina, and she found herself ducking into the inn.

The meal had been fair, the proprietor kind.  She paid the innkeeper for a comfortable room for the night and ascended the stairs to rest for her difficult hike up the mountain the following morning.  She locked the door behind her as she set down her travelling pack and the scroll case by the writing desk, her moneybelt on top.  She removed her armor and her vestments, untied the bandana that held her hair back to allow it to fall to her bare shoulders, and brought her fingers to the pendant hanging from her neck.  She had not removed it, nor her holy symbol of Ninurta which she had herself made as a little girl, since her first day on the road, since Kevur had presented it to her.

Abrina sighed and leaned down to remove her blanket from her pack before resigning herself to the straw-filled mattress and a full night of blissful, uninterrupted sleep.

That sleep was not meant to be.  As she ruffled through her pack something rammed into her back, sending her sprawling across the floor, her breath knocked out of her.  Abrina struggled to rise from the floor, only to find a booted foot come down on her stomach.  Nausea nearly overwhelmed her, but she managed to remain conscious and look up into her attacker’s face.

The face was painted, half black and half white, obscuring the woman’s features but not the intent.  Her dark brown eyes were narrowed, boring into Abrina through to the rough planks beneath her.  She was dressed in tight-fitting black clothes, with a dark cloak that billowed behind her.  The attacker moved gracefully, skillfully, as if she was at one with the shadows.

“What are you doing here, cleric?” the woman sneered, grinding her boot deeper into Abrina’s abdomen.  Abrina gasped for air, nearly told the woman all she knew about the message, who it was to, where she was from.  She opened her mouth to describe everything that happened, then paused.  Instead she reached up with one hand and grasped her symbol for strength.

“That is none of your concern, filth,” Abrina responded with uncharacterisitc temerity.

The woman laughed.  “Who are you to deny me?” she asked, her boot remaining in place and pressing deeper.  Abrina twisted beneath the foot, her hands searching behind her for something to grab, something to pull herself from underneath the woman in black, and found nothing.

“I am no one,” Abrina said between gasps, “A traveller, no more.”

“Liar,” said the woman, finally removing her boot, but Abrina had little chance to recover before that same boot kicked in her side.  “Listen to me, weakling, and listen well, for I will not repeat myself.  You are not to speak with Urikas or that blasted Tercival.  We know who you are, we know what you are here for, and we are going to give you a chance to turn around and not come back.  If you don’t . . .”  The woman gave Abrina another kick.

“Then we will have the last laugh.”  She threw back her head and cackled, as if she alone understood the punchline to her inside joke.  Abrina cringed, backing into the corner, nursing her side.

The woman passed by the desk, sweeping up her moneybelt.  “I’ll just relieve you of this heavy burden, since you won’t be needing it in Cauldron.”  She turned to the window, open, Abrina noticed for the first time, and leapt into the night.  Abrina heard the soft thump of the woman hitting the soft ground outside, then, nothing.

Bruised and scared, Abrina slowly walked to the window and without glancing outside she shut the window and returned to the bed.  She lay down, her blanket forgotten, and replayed the words of the woman in black in her mind.  She grasped her symbol, now, not for strength, but out of fear.

No, her sleep would not be restful this night.


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## hbarsquared (Apr 27, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part One*


The climb up the side of the volcano was not a strenuous one, but it was a long one.  The path, wide enough for two wagons side by side, detoured around large rock formations and thick copses of trees, switchbacked near steep cliffs, and gradually encircled the entire mountain.  Leading her horse, Abrina was relieved to see the towering black malachite walls of the city finally come into view.  She knew she would be no safer within those thick stone walls, but they nevertheless signified the last leg of her journey.

Abrina arrived at the gate, her supplies carried by her horse and the scrollcase hung protectively from her shoulder.  Several guards inspected merchants both coming and going, logging the transport of valuable items, mundane and magical.  One young guard approached her, a short sword dangling at his side, his studded armor clean, well-kept, and free of scrapes and cuts.

“Anything of value?” he asked, holding a partially unrolled scroll against a flat piece of wood.  He held a small writing utensil poised above the paper in one hand.

Abrina shook her head.  “No,” she said, motioning to her packs.  “Just supplies.  I’m a message bearer.”  Abrina patted her holy symbol around her neck.  The periapt remained hidden beneath her shirt.

The guard raised his head and nodded, making a single, simple mark on the parchment.  “Ah, yes.  Ninurta speed you.”

“And you as well,” she replied, “Thank you.”

The streets of Cauldron were busy on this bright autumn afternoon.  Tumbling white clouds raced across the sky, mimicking the people in the circular, concentric streets.  She stabled her horse then immediately set out to find the temple where she was to deliver her message, but found little help with the local populace.  The citizens seemed on edge, suspicious.  She would ask for simple directions from passerbys, only to see them hurry off without responding.  Something had happened, or was happening, in Cauldron, though Abrina did not know what.  She heard a rumor, in one of the shops she had stepped into, of a strange type of currency now found among the merchants.  The coins were stamped with the face of a jester, instead of the sovereign.  It unnerved the shopkeepers, certainly, who scrutinized her coins before accepting them, but Abrina did not believe that money would be the root of the suspicions of everyone else.

Abrina had spent hours wandering some of the middle avenues of Cauldron, only once hazarding the innermost and most dilapidated circle of Ash Avenue, only to discover that the temple she sought was located on the first street she had encountered: Obsidian.  In the waning light and gathering rain clouds, Abrina climbed back up the inner bowl of the city, following the wide streets that sloped and curved gently upward.

A steady drizzle began to fall from the ash-gray sky.  The crowded, rain-slicked buildings seemed especially bleak and frightful this evening, hunched together beneath the tireless rain.  A few lights burned in their eyes, but mostly their shutters had been closed for the night.  The scent of chimney smoke filled the air, and Abrina heard the din of water trundling from the rooftops, splashing into dark alleys, and turning street gutters into small rivulets.

A sudden plaintive cry for help split the evening air.  Abrina whirled, spear raised in hand, to find no one around, no one on the street.  The cry seemed to have come from somewhere behind her,/color] she was sure of it.  Peering through the falling rain, she could make out no moving figures, nothing but the wet, tired faces of closed shops.  She paused, listening, and heard some cursing, and the sounds of a scuffle, slightly muffled by the rainfall.  Gingerly, she followed the noises.  She maneuvered her scrollcase so it hung diagonally across her back, and cinched tight the strap.  She grasped the wet shaft of the spear with both hands and peered down the street.  The noises came from a nearby alley, not ten yards away.


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## hbarsquared (May 2, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Two*


Abrina pressed forward to the mouth of the mist-shrouded alley, wherein she saw three figures assaulting a fourth, who lay face-down on the wet cobblestones.  One of the attackers lifted the victim by the hood of his cloak and thrust him against a wall as another growled, “Stay away from the orphanage, you got that?”

She should have left, should have stayed out of it.  She was a stranger in this city, and therefore should not concern herself with its inhabitants.  They weren’t her province, not her responsibility.  Yet, Abrina could not stand by.  She did not know what orphanage the attacker spoke of or why the man on the ground would visit it, but she would not allow him to be beaten in a dark, wet alley.  Abrina stepped into the alley.

“Let go of him,” she called, her voice strong, overcoming the brief gusts of wind and the light pelting of rain.  She raised her spear.  “Let him go.”

One of the attackers dropped the man and turned to face her.  Abrina sucked in her breath as she recognized the face of the attacker.  A painted face, half black and half white, twisted into a harlequin’s grinning visage.  But no, this wasn’t the same face as her own attacker.  This was a man, and taller.  But the paint she recognized.

“Bugger off!” the man said with a growl.  He reached to his side and drew his sword from its scabbard as the other two did the same.  Abrina kept her spear raised menacingly, but did not advance.  The bruised and battered young man forced himself to stand and stumbled toward Abrina.  He was human, and young, with sunken eyes and scraggly hair that clung to his scalp in the rain.

As he reached her, Abrina whispered to the young man, “Are you okay?  Did they take anything from you?”

He shook his head, still taking deep, ragged breaths as he clutched his stomach.  Abrina patted him lightly on the shoulder and slowly turned to face the three men again.  As she glared, a fourth appeared from the opposite side of the alley, joining his fellows with sword unsheathed.

Abrina met the eyes of each, in turn, and slowly lowered her spear.  It was folly, she knew, but these men had some connection to the woman that attacked her at the inn.  She bowed her head, as if in sadness or defeat, and sensed the four men relaxing their stance.

Silently, with eyes closed, Abrina prayed to Ninurta to grant her strength.

She opened her eyes to find the four standing open-mouthed, now looking _up_ at her.  She now stood an imposing eleven feet tall, towering over the attackers.  At her side, she heard the young man reciting whispered words, and as he finished she felt the enveloping, familiar touch of a god.  She darted a quizzical glance at him, and he only smiled as he pulled out a mace she had not noticed before from his belt and began another prayer.

The four had regained their senses, realizing there were four of them, and still only one of her, despite her size.  They charged, their swords held aloft, and Abrina clutched her spear, prepared to meet them.


OOC: Abrina cast _enlarge_ on herself, and the young cleric cast _bless_ on Abrina and himself.  Abrina readied her spear to accept a charge from the attackers.

Abrina –
AC: 16 (+0 Dex, +5 chainmail, +2 heavy wooden shield, -1 size)
Attack: +5 (+1 morale [_bless_], +1 masterwork, +4 Str, -1 size)
Damage: 1d8+6 / x3 (+4 Str x 1.5)
​


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## hbarsquared (May 6, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Three*


Abrina now took up the entire width of the alley and the cleric had shifted in front of her to the side to meet the charge of the attackers.  The first, swinging his sword wildly, ran directly toward Abrina.  She clenched her spear, holding it rigid, and for a moment closed her eyes.  She felt a tremendous jarring, and barely kept her weapon from wrenching out of her grasp.  Her eyes flared open to see the first attacker now impaled on her oversized spear, his eyes rapidly glazing over.  The second attacker had already reached the cleric and Abrina could already see a new wound on his shoulder.  The cleric stumbled, clutching his arm to his side, and fell to the ground.  Angrily, Abrina pulled back her spear and with a jab at the ground shook off the body and with a fluid, follow-through motion, speared the side of the man stepping forward to take the place of his fellow attacker.

Wielding her spear in one hand Abrina leaned over to the small form of the cleric on the ground.  Whispering a prayer, Ninurta granted the cleric the energy he needed to rise.  One of the men lashed out with his sword, which she diverted with the spear as she lifted the cleric to his feet with her other hand.  He shook his head, nodded a brief thanks to her, and ducked beneath another swipe of a sword.  Seeing an opening, the cleric swung his mace, crunching into the side of the man that Abrina had just wounded.  The attacker crumpled, and fell.

Gritting her teeth, Abrina found another hit as the two remaining attackers continued to press.  She did not have time to recover from her strike, and she could not defend herself from the other man with the painted face.  He slid the sword easily into her side.  Her vision dimmed as the attacker removed his sword and her blood coursed down her leg.  She did not feel herself falling.  Abrina only heard a cry from the cleric and caught a glimpse of him crushing his mace into the back of the one who wounded her.  Then nothing.


OOC: This post would be my first attempt at describing combat.  Was it fair, readable?  Should I never attempt such an atrocity again, or do I simply need a little practice?
​


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## hbarsquared (May 13, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Four*


Abrina awoke with a gasp to find the cleric by her side, his hands hovering over her side.  The wound was healed, but she could still feel the warmth over her blood on her skin.  She struggled to rise and found she had returned to her normal size.  Abrina was no longer the towering giant but as she glanced around the dark alley she discovered there were no more enemies to worry about.

“Are you okay?” asked the cleric.

“Yes,” Abrina responded, “I’ll be all right.”

The cleric nodded in return and left her side.  “These men will die without our aid.”

For a moment, Abrina considered letting the painted men die, but she shook her head, discarding the thought.  She rose and dug into her pack, finding a length of rope.  Quickly, she tied the hands of the nearest unconscious man before whispering a prayer to relieve his ragged breathing.

She heard the others run off, down the sloping alley.  They would be caught.

“Tell me,” she said forcefully to the man as his eyes fluttered open, “Why were you assaulting that man?”

He stared wide-eyed at her, his face turning to glance at the cleric that kneeled down at Abrina’s side.  His eyes darted between the two of them, scared.  “I . . . we . . . we were told to roughen him up.  He shouldn’t be pokin’ around the orphanage.”

“What orphanage?  Why not?” Abrina asked.

“The Lantern Street Orphanage,” said the cleric.  “That is where I was coming from tonight when they attacked.”

The painted man nodded, then shrugged.  “But I don’t know why.  We were hired.  It was nothing big, we weren’t going to hurt him.”

“Hired” questioned Abrina.  “Who?  And why are your faces painted like that? Who are Urikas and Tercival?”  Her questions tumbled from her mouth faster than her prisoner could form answers as she shook his collar.  He shook his head.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he said emphatically.  “The Last Laugh hired us, Jil was going to pay us-”

He stopped abruptly, his last word ending in a strange gurgle.  Abrina dropped the dying man and fell back, glancing quickly around the dark alley, trying to see shapes through the slanting rain.

“Well done!” cried out a voice, the same voice of the woman that attacker her at the inn.  The cleric pointed to a dark shape clinging to a section of the building wall.  The figure emerged from the shadows.  “But you do not need any more information he might have given you.  You have my name, not that it matters much.  The cleric lives because we of the Last Laugh wish it so, not because of your misplaced bravado.”

She pointed a baleful finger at the cleric.  “Take these words back to your temple, priest.  The children are lost and no longer Enlil’s concern.”  The woman, Jil, turned and rapidly climbed the brick wall like a spider, and before either Abrina or the cleric could respond, she leapt over the edge onto the roof, and was gone, leaving the two staring open-mouthed in the rain.

The cleric came to Abrina’s side.  “My name is Ruphus,” he said, sliding his mace into his belt at his side.  “I can take you to Urikas, if you seek her.  She is my superior, and the head of my order during the absence of the high priest.”

“You are a cleric of Enlil?” Abrina asked.  The situation was beginning to make sense to her, and she began to understand why she might have been attacked.  Though what the orphans had to do with it she still could not fathom.

“Yes,” replied Ruphus.

“Then yes, let us go to your temple.  I have a message to deliver.”  She gestured to the scroll case, still cinched to her back.


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## hbarsquared (May 23, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Five*


The two clerics climbed the inside of the volcano cauldron in the drizzling rain to their destination, the Church of Enlil.  Upon reaching it, Abrina could not understand how she could have missed the large two-story structure, its white marble walls suffused with veins of vivid blue, standing in stark contrast to the buildings of bare black stone that flank it on the north end of Obsidian Avenue.  A pair of white marble statues depicting armored warriors, sleek with rain, stand on either side of the temple’s heavy oaken door.  Each of the statues raises a large pick to the star-studded sky.  Above the door’s marble architrave were boldly inscribed the following words: *WITHIN LAW LIVES HOPE*.

Ruphus motioned her through the imposing oak doors of the church.  Abrina gladly stepped through, into its safe and warm confines.  An acolyte rose from a nearby sit in the entrance hall and approached, her young face carrying an unhidden expression of worry.  The acolyte and Ruphus spoke quickly, in hushed tones, and after a moment the acolyte disappeared through a nearby door.

“She will return in a moment,” he said, “with some blankets and warm tea.  You are free to stay the night, and I offer you my thanks.”

“But, my message,” Abrina replied as Ruphus began to turn away.

“I must first relate to Urikas what has transpired,” Ruphus said without turning.  “She will be out to see you, if she gets the chance.  If not, rest well, and you will meet in the morning.”  He opened another door, opposite the one the acolyte had used, and left the entrance hall.

Grumbling, Abrina tried to wait patiently and piece together the pieces of information that Ruphus had tried to relate to her.  He did not know anything about the men with the painted faces or why they had sought to attack him on the way back from the orphanage.  At first, he had thought they were going to rob him, but it soon became clear they were trying to intimidate him.  No further light had been shed on that mystery, but Ruphus did explain why a cleric of Enlil had an interest in the orphanage.

“Three nights ago,” Ruphus had explained, “four children were kidnapped from the Lantern Street Orphanage.  Urikas sent me to console the distraught children and some of the staff, to let them know that Enlil would be watching for them.  In the absence of our high priest, Delasharn, Urikas has publicly vowed for the Church to locate the missing children and bring the kidnappers to justice.”

How the painted faces were involved, and why they were concerned about her, still eluded Abrina.

The acolyte returned soon with blankets which Abrina used to swiftly scrub her hair and beart skin, patting down her clothing and armor as well.  Hot tea followed soon thereafter which Abrina sipped carefully.  She hated tea, preferred the thicker brews of spiced mead, but wanted to remain polite in the sister temple.

“Hopin’ you’ll enjoy your night, here,” the young acolyte mentioned, refilling Abrina’s tea and not noticing the grimace.  “Jenya will bein’ out to see you shortly.”

“Jenya?” Abrina questioned, blowing on her tea.

The acolyte blushed, averting her gaze.  “I mean, Urikas,” she said.  “She is the high cleric, after all, while Delasharn is gone.  Must show our respects, and all.  She don’t mind her first name, but twouldn’t be right, I say.”

She stepped backwards.  “I’ll just go warm you up some more tea.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Abrina tried to reply, but the acolyte had already fled.

A few moments later, a short woman with premature streaks of gray in her rich brown hair, pulled back into an elaborate bun, arrived with hand outstretched in greeting.  She wore a brown robe with golden trim and the recognizable symbol of Enlil around her neck.  Although several inches shorter than Abrina, the woman still seemed taller.  She walked with purpose, each step firmly placed in the exact, desired location, her back straight and her eyes firmly fixed on her objective, no matter the distance.  Now, those eyes fixed upon Abrina, who wanted to flinch from beneath that intense gaze.

Abrina held, locking her eyes with those of this commanding woman, and straightened herself to her full height, not in hopes of intimidating the woman, but to instead somehow match her impressive height.

“Good evening,” greeted the woman.  “I have spoken to Ruphus and have learned of his harrowing ordeal, as well as your remarkable heroism.  Thank you for interfering when you did.  I had not realized the danger Ruphus might have been in when I requested he comfort the children.”

Abrina shook her head.  “Ninurta led me.  I could not just leave him to the ruffians.”

The woman smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes and lit her face.  “Well, you have my thanks, as well as that of the Church of Enlil. I am Jenya Urikas, the acting high priest, and I am in your debt.”

Abrina shook her head again, but did not respond, unaccustomed to such praise.

Jenya led her to a private room, down a hallway leading off of the entrance hall, with a warm fire and several plush chairs.  Jenya sat in one, inviting Abrina to seat herself in another opposite Jenya.

“I am told you have come to deliver a message for me?” Jenya asked, her penetrating gaze resting on Abrina.

Abrina forced herself to draw her eyes back from the dancing flames, return herself to her present time and place.  “Yes, I have,” she responded, and withdrew the scrollcase.  “It comes from the temple of Ea, in Haven.  You know the head cleric there?”

Jenya’s eyes widened as she reached out to take the scrollcase from Abrina.  “Yes, I do.  But for what pressing reasons Helena would send me a message by Ninurta, I do not know.”  Jenya withdrew the scroll from the case and began to read as Abrina sat across from her, sipping the bitter tea.


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## hbarsquared (May 31, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Six*


Abrina did not know the contents of the letter.  She had read the missive to Elder Kevur, but it only hinted at the troubles brewing in Cauldron, and she did not understand half of it, anyway.  Abrina had been tempted to unfurl the scroll many times on her journey, but she had never once opened the case.  Now, she hoped Ninurta would reward her for her strength and Jenya would reveal to her the  portents of the message.

After several moments, Jenya sighed and slowly curled the scroll and tied the ribbon around its center.  She turned to gaze out the window into the night, remaining silent.

Abrina coughed.

Jenya turned back to Abrina and smiled wanely.  “I believe Ruphus explained to you what has happened at the orphanage?” Jenya said, whisking away the scroll.  Abrina’s eyes lingered on it as it disappeared into a desk drawer.  Perhaps later, she would learn what message she had delivered into Jenya’s hands.

“Yes,” she answered, returning her attention to the cleric.  “Something about a kidnapping?”

“Four children, only three nights ago.”  Jenya continued, “Deakon, Evelyn, Lucinda and Terem.  I have vowed to bring their kidnappers to justice, but I fear that these are only the most recent in a long string of strange disappearances, all somehow connected.

“I have requested Enlil’s aid directly, and received a cryptic response.  One of our own has already begun his own investigations into the kidnappings, but has found nothing as of yet.  Our city is not small, but all of our clerics are still easily recognized.  Perhaps you, Abrina, might be able to discover something.”

Abrina hesitated.  She desperately wished to return to Haven.  She was happy, encouraging the crops, mending broken bones, playing in the games.  She was content with that life, and had been hoping to return to it, after a single night’s rest in the city of Cauldron.  Her gaze fell on the corner of the desk where Jenya had secreted away the scroll.  Abrina’s thoughts returned to the knot in her gut she had felt when those men had accosted Ruphus.  Painted faces still leered before her in her memories, and she did not know why.  She imagined the children: scared, cold, and beaten by hulking men with faces of white and black . . .

“What can I do to help?” Abrina said abruptly, interrupting Jenya’s proposal, and something about a reward.

Jenya stood.  “Thank  you,” she said, opening the door and leading Abrina out into the hall. “Let me take you to Handel.”


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## hbarsquared (Jun 3, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Seven*


A bustling dwarf with a neatly trimmed beard and the flowing robes of Enlil hunched over a desk, pouring over various papers and jotting down notes in quick, spasming strokes, as Jenya and Abrina stepped through the door.  Handel glanced up briefly as the two entered and dismissively returned to his work, leaving Abrina’s mouth open in a greeting she did not have the chance to give.

“Handel, this is Abrina, a cleric of Ninurta,” Jenya introduced, though the dwarf did not look up from his papers.  Jenya continued, unfazed.  “She will help you in the coming days, she has offered her help to find the missing children and bring the kidnappers to justice.”

“Indeed,” replied Handel with the characteristic dwarven grumble.  “I doubt there is more that she can glean, but she can sort my notes, if she likes.”

Abrina’s eyes narrowed, insulted, but Jenya simply ignored Handel’s comment and turned to her.  “Only last night,” she said, “I consulted an artifact on our temple, and asked a simple question of Enlil: _Where are the children who were abducted from the Lantern Street Orphanage?_  I received a reply, though a cryptic one.  Handel has been studying the riddle ever since, as well as the little information we have gathered about the kidnappings.  I’m afraid he has so far made little progress.”

At this, the dwarf looked up from his desk and straightened.  “Nonsense!” he blustered, waving his notes in the air.  “Enlil has provided us with a great deal.  Here, here, allow me to shoe you.”  He reached over, scattering various drawings, diagrams, and scraps until he found a parchment with six lines of small, precise letters.

“This,” Handel exclaimed, waving the paper in Abrina’s face.  She flinched, backing away from the accosting dwarf.  “This is Enlil’s riddle.”

Jenya neatly plucked it from Handel’s fingers, to his chagrin, and began to read aloud the words she had written the previous night.
_
The locks are key to finding them.
Look beyond the curtain, below the cauldron,
But beware the doors with teeth.
Descend into the malachite ‘hold,
Where precious life is bought with gold.
Half a dwarf binds them, but not for long.​_Handel grabbed it back from Jenya, clutching it in one hand.  Abrina wondered for a moment why Jenya, obviously a cleric on high standing and the current head of the temple, accepted such treatment from the dwarf.  The thought quickly fled, however, as Handel loudly proclaimed his conclusions.

“We know the orphanage has barred windows and excellent locks on all the doors.  The orphanage has two large bedchambers on the second floor, one for boys and one for girls, and two children from each were kidnapped.  No windows were broken, no doors damaged, and no one at the orphanage, including the staff and the other children, heard anything.  They simply disappeared.

“But this,” he continued, holding the parchment in the air and returning to his scattered notes, “This gives us some clues.  The riddle says, _Look beyond the curtain, below the cauldron_.  This must refer to some place beyond the city walls, the curtain, and below the cauldron of the mountain.  The doors with teeth obviously refer to the portcullises of the wall, so one of the guards either knows something or is part of the kidnappings.”

“What about this malachite hold?  Or the locks?  Or the half-dwarf?” asked Jenya.

Handel waved away her questions as he sat at the desk. “I am not sure.  Yet.  I will get to that, and will notify you what it means when I find out.”  With that, he bowed his head over his notes, retrieved a quill pen, and began to write some more notes on another scrap of paper.  Jenya gently touched Abrina’s arm and pulled her into the hallway.

“I trust Handel, but I think it might be better for you to inquire at the orphanage yourself.  Someone had to have gotten into the orphanage, and if they bypassed the locks on the bedchamber doors then I am afraid it might have been someone with access to the keys.  If that is true, then the children are still in danger.”

Abrina nodded, remembering the first line of Enlil’s riddle, _The locks are key to finding them_.  That would be her first question.  She would have the rest of the night to think of what her second question might be.

“First thing in the morning, Jenya,” said Abrina confidently, “I will go to the orphanage, and find out what I can.  With Ninurta’s strength, I will bring the kidnappers to you.”

“Thank you, Abrina.”  Jenya nodded, appeared to relax, and led Abrina to a small private room.  She had long since dried off and the bitter taste of the tea had thankfully retreated.  Exhausted, Abrina collapsed into the spartan bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


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## brellin (Jun 4, 2005)

so far so good. I alrady know the plot but i want to see what you can do
      -brellin


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## hbarsquared (Jun 9, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Eight*


The orphanage rested on the corner of Lantern Street and Ash Avenue, its charcoal-colored stones held together with mold-encrusted mortar.  The windows on both stories were tightly shuttered, the bleached and splintering wood seemed to droop forlornly in the morning light.  Unlit lanterns hung on either side of the oaken front door, mounted to which was a green copper knocker shaped like a smiling gargoyle’s visage, its nostrils pierced by a copper ring.  Abrina paused and breathed deeply before grasping the ring and knocked on the door of the Lantern Street Orphanage.

The door slowly creaked opened after a few moments and an elderly halfling woman peered out, her eyes flickering with suspicion.

“Who sent you?” she asked curtly, refusing to open the door further than the scant inches it was already.

“Me?” Abrina responded, taken aback.  She had not expected distrust.  “My name’s Abrina, and I was sent by Jenya, from the Church of Enlil.  I was hoping-”

“Jenya?” interrupted the halfling with a raspy voice.  “I don’t know any Jenya.”

“Urikas,” Abrina answered patiently, hoping perhaps that name sounded familiar.  “She is the head cleric at the church while Delasharn is away.  She was the one to give the proclamation to bring the kidnappers to justice.”

The halfling's eyes softened and she opened the door further.  “Oh, yes” she said, motioning Abrina into the orphanage.  “She has sent you, has she?  You don’t look familiar.  What was your name again?”

“Abrina” she replied, stepping into the dimly lit main hall.  “I am actually only a visitor, here.  A cleric of Ninurta.  She requested my help to find the . . . children.”

The woman nodded, closing the door and showing Abrina in.  “I apologize for my attitude.  There have been plenty of other strangers in this place, and still no word of the children.  It’s been frustrating, to say the least.  My name is Gretchyn, the headmistress here.”

Gretchyn lead the way through the hall, leading Abrina past a playroom filled with small toys chaotically strewn across the floor and a schoolroom where a young woman walked among several rowdy children.

“That’s Willow, our schoolteacher here,” said Gretchyn, opening a door to a small room with a small desk in the corner and shelves bulging with aging books and sheaves of paper.  “She volunteers, mostly, bless her heart.  Without her, I don’t know what Neva and I would do to occupy them.”

“Neva?” Abrina questioned, her eye lingering on the lock of Gretchyn’s door.

“She’s the nurse.  Neva helps me watch the children, fixes up their scraps and bruises.”

Abrina returned her gaze to Gretchyn.  “Who else stays here?”

“Well, we have Jaromir Copperbeard, our gardener,” Gretchyn said, ticking the name off on one finger.  “He keeps to himself, mostly.  Neva Fanister, Willow Atherfell.  Patch, good old Patch, keeps the place clean.  And Temar Flagonstern is our most excellent cook, and he gets along quite well with the children, too.”

Gretchyn winked.  “I believe he sneaks them cookies when I’m not looking.  And I think he thinks I don’t know.”

Abrina nodded, smiling politely.  Gretchyn had already lost her with who knew what in the kitchen.  But none of the people she described sounded especially like kidnappers.  “Does anyone have the keys to the children’s rooms, besides you?”

Gretchyn shook her head.  “Nope.  Just me, and I make sure to lock up every night, both the outer doors and the children’s door.  Nothing gets in, and the children don’t manage to get into trouble.”

“Then how. . .” Abrina began, pondering aloud. _The locks are key to finding them_, she repeated to herself.  The locks.

“Have your locks been damaged in any way, recently?  Are you sure no one else has access?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Gretchyn snorted.  “They’re perfect, you can check them out yourself.  And the locks have worked fine since the day I got them from that gnome locksmith ten years ago.”

“And he wouldn’t have a copy of the key, would he?”

“I guess he could,” she replied thoughtfully.  “But I don’t see why.  He’s been in business a while, and no one has ever complained about him or reported him.  Besides, it’s been years.  Why would he kidnap children now?”

Abrina nodded.  “You’re right, it wouldn’t make much sense.  Would it be okay if I spoke with some of your staff, and maybe the children?”

Gretchyn rose.  “Sure, you can, just don’t go upsetting anybody.  Half of those children have already forgotten about the whole thing, but if you mention they might start bawling.”

Abrina followed Gretchyn out of the office, her thoughts in turmoil.  Maybe one of the staff might provide some insight.  Over and over she repeated the divination’s riddle, hoping that its meaning would click in her mind, like a key in its lock.

_The locks are key to finding them_.


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## hbarsquared (Jul 5, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Nine*

OOC – Slippin’ to page 3.  Got to do something about that.  ;-)​Nothing.  Abrina had spoken with the schoolteacher, the gardener, the nurse, and even several of the children.  The most she was able to discover was a stilted description of a nightmare one of the children had the other night.  Something about an evil gnome with crooked teeth and a tattered cloak.  The other children quickly chimed in with their own dreams, covering the gamut of monsters lurking underneath their bed to fairies that came in the night.  Exasperated, Abrina left the playroom, prepared to leave empty-handed.

Before reaching the door, a half-orc dressed in wrinkled, stained clothes and a patch over his left eye approached, a broom held tightly in both hands.  He said nothing, but stood in front of her with wide, pleading eyes.  Abrina had not seen him at the orphanage, but assumed this must have been the janitor of the institution and vaguely remembered Gretchyn referring to someone named “Patch.”  She assumed this was most likely him.

“Yes?”

The half-orc twisted his hands along the wooden handle of the broom as if to wring out any water it might have.  “I need . . .  I . . .  I . . .”  His voice petered out into a long sigh and the half-orc turned to leave.

“Patch?” Abrina called to him.  Did he know something?  Why else would he approach her?  He turned at her voice, eyes still pleading, asking her to discover a secret he was not offering to tell.  “Patch?  Is it about the children?”

Patch nodded, but did not elaborate and did not step toward her.

“Do you know what has happened to them?”

He shook his head and once again turned to leave.

“Wait!” Abrina called.  “I’ve been sent by Jenya of the temple of Enlil to investigate the disappearance of the children.  I am trying to find them and bring them back home.  Can you help me?”

Patch glanced around the room furtively, and seeing no one he stepped close to Abrina, the thick and acrid smells of sweat, oil and cleaning vinegar nearly overwhelming her.  “Please,” he said, “You can’t tell no one.”

Abrina nodded.  “I won’t,” she said softly.  “What do you know?”

“It was Revus.  He’s with the Last Laugh guild.  You know, them’s with the black and white faces.  He said I could make a better life for myself, if I kept an eye on Terrem.  I did, and now he’s gone!”

Tears welled in the half-orc’s eyes as he gripped the handle to his broom and his breathing grew deep and heavy.  He tried to continue, with every other word punctuated by a wracking sob.

“I . . . didn’t mean . . . to hurt . . . no one. . . .  The children . . .”

“Patch, what do you mean?  Do you know where they are?  Are they hurt?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.I was just to watch out for Terrem.  I don’t know anything else about the kidnappings.”

Uncomfortable and not quite sure what to do for the hulking janitor, Abrina reached out hesitatingly and patted Patch on the shoulder, withdrawing her hand quickly.  It did not seem that the sobbing half-orc noticed.

“Don’t tell Gretchyn,” he asked longingly, wiping tears from his eyes as he began to regain his compusure.  “She’d be disappointed in me.”

Abrina nodded noncommittally, but Patch seemed to take it as an affirmation.  Taking his broom he walked past her, sweeping the floor as if he had never stopped her in the first place.  With a bewildered shake of her head, she opened the front door of the orphanage and stepped out.


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## brellin (Jul 7, 2005)

As far as I can remember the orc was not in the story the first time i read it little changes like that makes it all defrent so it is like a whole new story RIGHT ON


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## hbarsquared (Jul 11, 2005)

Thanks for the comment: I really appreciate it.

Everyone in the story hour (besides the adventurers and their background characters) is in the adventure path, and I'm attempting to flesh out the NPCs a bit more (as I did with Ruphus, as well), which hopefully makes the story hour more engaging.  It's taking me longer than expected, though, to get through the adventure.  I'm not even to the dungeon yet!  The plan is to speed up combat a bit, so hopefully Abrina will skip through the dungeon rooms pretty easily.  We'll see.

Thanks again, I always enjoy seeing comments!


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## hbarsquared (Jul 12, 2005)

*Chapter One, Part Ten*

Abrina walked aimlessly down Lava Avenue in the opposite direction of the church, dodging the merchants leading their wagons up the slanted streets and children running across the sometimes gravelly ground of volcanic rock in every direction. She did not want to return to the church empty-handed, and she still had no more idea about the identity or whereabouts of this Last Laugh, despite the extra puzzle piece Patch had provided.  She fingered her symbol of Ninurta as she glanced upward at the cramped buildings lining the road, some seemed to be hewn directly from the volcano’s core.  Veins of malachite were every, bringing a small bit of color to an otherwise gray and dreary city.

As she turned down an alley a motion from the shadows caught her eye, a pale, fleeting figure in her peripheral vision that disappeared despite her keen sight.  Her eyes narrowed and Abrina tightened her cloak around her body.  The wind had picked up in the afternoon, and the overcast clouds had begun to take on a darker tone.  With a shrug, she continued but remained alert.  Abrina was determined that those from the Last Laugh not catch her unawares again.

Abrina raised her head at the sound of a wooden sign creaking in the wind, swinging back and forth on rusty hinges.  She paused in her walk and stepped back, examining the two-story black stone building that loomed in front of her.  A small turret dominated the façade, with iron bars embedded in the thick window frames.  Beyond the turret’s ground-floor windows, Abrina could see a lovely display of locks, from large to small, simple to complex, plain to intricate.  To the left of the turret, above a heavy oak door, swung the sign, and upon the wooden sign, below a picture of a stylized key, read G*HELVE*’*S* L*OCKS*.

_The locks are key to finding them_, she repeated to herself.  _Perhaps he might have some clue as to how someone might have gotten past his locks._

Abrina knocked on the sturdy wooden door of the town locksmith.


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## hbarsquared (Aug 4, 2005)

*Chapter Two, Part One*

First, silence.  Abrina waited a few moments before raising her hand to knock on the oaken door again, but a muffled voice finally called from inside. “It’s open!” it said.  “Please, come on in!”

Abrina pushed open the door and stepped into the small shop.  The store front smelled of wood and pipe smoke, tickling her nose with a spicy aroma.  Two burgundy padded chairs flanked a hearth containing a small yet lively fire. The fireplace’s carved mantle bore a tinderbox, a small vase of dried smoking leaves, and a finely wrought collection of pipes.

A burgundy stretch of carpet, a shade darker than the chairs, led from the entrance to the wall across from it, where Abrina could see dozens—perhaps hundreds—of keys hanging from tiny hooks.  A handsomely engraved mahogany counter stretched along one wall, and behind it hung a red curtain neatly hiding the rest of the store.  From around the corner of the counter came a dour man with bushy eyebrows, creased face, and graven frown. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short and he sported a well-trimmed moustache and goatee, in a fashion that Abrina had only seen among gnomes.  He wore long pants with a flowing shirt and walked stiff-legged as he came to greet her.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said.  Abrina quirked an eyebrow, for he looked like a gnome, but he was nearly as tall as she.  “I am Ghelve of Ghelve’s Locks.  What can I interest you in, today?  A lock for your door?  Something fancy?”

“You’re a gnome.” Abrina said, almost accusingly.

The man took an awkward step back and chuckled.  “Why yes, I am,” he replied.  “And you’re a half-elf.”

Ghelve bent over slightly and lifted the edge of his pants to reveal the stilts underneath.  “It’s easier to speak with customers when you see them eye to eye.”

Abrina nodded, blushing.  “Why yes, yes, of course.”  She turned away and tried to casually glance around the room.  “Well,” she replied, “I am looking for a set of locks for my home.  A pair for the front and back doors.”

“Oh yes, yes,” he said with a disarming smile, moving back behind the counter.  “I have just what you are looking for.  Wait but a moment?”

Abrina nodded and watched him disappear behind the red curtain.  She walked around the store, tracing her fingers along the intricate carvings of the main counter, continuing along to the wall with the uncountable number of keys.  She noticed that more than one key hung on each tiny hook.  Reaching up, she took three from a single hook and examined their notched edges.  She was no locksmith, but even she could see that each key was unique, each pattern different from the rest.

“What are you doing?”

Abrina whirled around, surprised, with keys clenched in one hand.  “Oh, um, noth . . . Nothing,” she stumbled, scrambling to place the keys back on their hook.  The gnome approached the end of the counter, two simple locks in hand and a sly smile.

“You need to match the key to the lock, my lady.  Not the other way around.”

“Oh, yes, yes.  I understand.”  Abrina reached out for the locks and examined the keyholes.  They looked normal enough, as had the ones at the orphanage.  Just like any other keyhole.

“I noticed that you have quite a number of keys already made,” she said, gesturing to the wall.  “If I were to purchase these locks, would I have to worry about a duplicate key?”

“No, no need to worry,” he said, as if recounting a rehearsed speech.  “You see, each key is made expressly for the lock, and I make only one set at a time.  One key, one lock.”

“Can you guarantee me that?” she asked pointedly.

“Why, yes.” He replied, though with a short hesitation.  “Uh, sure.”

Abrina raised an eyebrow.  “And what about the kidnappings that I have been hearing about?  And the orphanage?  They all had your locks and there was no sign of forced entry.”  Ghelve’s eyes widened as he began to shake his head.  Abrina took a step forward.  “Someone found their way inside, and that someone had a key.  Tell me how they got a key?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he choked, stepping back around the counter, taking the two locks with him.  “I don't appreciate being accused of kidnapping in my own shop.  I think you had better leave.”

Abrina came to the counter, putting her hands on the mahogany.  “I have not accused you of anything, Ghelve.  Should I?  I am _not_ going to leave.  Did you kidnap those children?”

“No!” he said emphatically.  “Of course not!  I would never do such a thing?”

“And the other kidnappings?  What happened to them?  Where are you hiding them?”

Ghelve lowered his head, shaking it furiously from side to side.  “Nothing,” he mumbled over and over to himself, “I didn’t do anything.”

Abrina sighed and stepped back from the counter.  Ghelve knew something, but she didn’t think he would kidnap three children.  The kidnapped victims were all human children, probably nearly his size.  How could he have managed to do it?  No, someone else was involved.  She turned to face Ghelve once again.

“I know you did not take the children,” she whispered.  Ghelve looked up at her and nodded silently.

“But you do know who did.”

“No, I don’t” he replied stoically.  Then, he nodded, and arched an eyebrow.

Abrina tilted her head.  Was someone else here?  “Then how do you explain the kidnappings?”

“How should I know?” he said, still arching an eyebrow and jerking his head toward the curtain.  “Perhaps someone picked the locks.  I make good locks, but maybe an expert got to them.”

Abrina forced herself to relax and changed the direction of her questioning.  “Well, how can I know I’d be kept safe if I purchased one of your locks?”

Relieved to have the conversation return to purchases, he smiled.  “How about I show you.  I have quite a selection back here.”  He nodded toward the curtain and invited her to follow him.

Abrina reached behind her shoulder to touch the shaft of  the spear still slung over her back.  Prepared, she stepped behind Ghelve’s counter and lifted the curtain to the room beyond.


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## hbarsquared (Oct 26, 2005)

*Chapter Two, Part Two*

Abrina had half-expected to find a bandit, complete with scarf covering his face and a deadly sharp knife already drawn, waiting for her on the other side of the curtain.  No such bandit existed, however.  Only a plain anteroom of the lockshop.

Black curtains partially obscured a window niche that faced the street.  Ornate locks and complex locking mechanisms were neatly displayed in the niche.

The room itself looked tidy, but lived in.  Carpets covered the stone floor, and a broom leaned against the railing of a wooden staircase leading up to a second floor balcony.  Three wooden chests rested in the middle of the floor, their lids bound shut with sturdy iron padlocks.  Small tables, shelves, and benches held various knick-knacks, and a framed portrait of a silver-haired gnome hung next to a tall wooden box with a glass pane revealing its innards at the base of the stairs.  The wooden box contained an intricate array of ticking gears, counterweights, and cylindrical chimes, surmounted by a circular face that bore the numerals 1 through 12 on its circumference.

"Let me just show you how some of these function," Ghelve said, hurrying to one of his wooden chests and removing a large, heavy key from a hidden pocket.

Abrina paused and surveyed the room.  Nothing seemed out of place or out of the ordinary, and she wondered why the gnome had led her to this room.  He ignored her, now, instead fiddling with the padlock on the far chest.  She looked at the staircase, following the stairs up to the landing above, and saw only darkness.

"What's up there?" she asked, motioning to the staircase and stepping toward it.

A sudden _whoosh_ of air, the flapping of a tattered closk, and a figure coalesced from darkness tumbed over her head and landed at her side.  Abrina tried to reach over her shoulder and draw her spear, but the figurehad caught her unawares, was too fast.  The glint of steel  flashed, and she felt a piercing pain in her shoulder.

She stumbled backward, but somehow managed to retrieve her weapon.  She held it out in a defensive position that had become second nature after her years of training, and managed to divert the strike from her attacker that followed.
_A short update, more to come soon, as well as regularly!_​


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## hbarsquared (Nov 4, 2005)

*Chapter Two, Part Three*


In the corner of her eye, Abrina saw Ghelve dive behind one of the chests.  Obviously, the gnome would not be of any help.  Regaining her composure, Abrina brought her spear to bear striking at the strange creature.

It seemed human, but was completely hairless, with skin that was thick and leathery.  It's skin was a deep, dark brown, but even as Abrina watched it seemed to slowly shift in color, growing lighter even as she thrust with her spear time and again.  The two moved toward the center of the room, where gray light from the window shone through.  The creature's skin seemed to change, as the light fell upon it, to match in color.

The creature did not flinch as she hit it with her spear, snarling only once as she finally embedded her weapon in its abdomen.  Its eyes rolled back, and the creature fell to the floor, sickly gray blood oozing from its wound.

Breathing heavy, she called out to Ghelve.  "It's over," she said, but still unsure of what, exactly, had begun.  "You can come out now."

Ghelve crawled out from behind the chest, eyes fastened on the dead form of the humanoid creature splayed across the floor.  As the two watched, its skin color slowly shifted to match the wood floor beneath it.  Within moments neither could tell the creature was there unless they looked directly at its spot.

"What is that thing?" Abrina asked, hefting her spear in one hand.

Ghelve brought his gaze to the spear, still bloodied.  "I... I don't know.  These tall ones, and some short ones, too, burst into the shop a little over three months ago and threatened me and my... pet."

"You mean there are more?"

Ghelve nodded, and gulped.  "Yes.  Many, many more.  And they have keys to nearly every lock in the city."

Abrina stared at the gnome, aghast.  _Every lock in the city?_  Her wound forgotten, for the moment, Abrina leaned against the staircase.  The children were not likely an isolated incident, then.  There could be more kidnappings, many more, and for what purpose Abrina could not fathom.

"Close your shop," she said, weakly.  "We have some things to discuss."

"But, the business day is not over, yet!"

Abrina raised her spear.  "Close your shop."

"Yes, all right."  Ghelve hurried behind the curtain and from the other room Abrina could hear the series of locks slide and click.  Ghelve returned and motioned her up the stairs.

"I have something to show you," he said.  "Another tall one will show up soon, and we don't have much time.  _I_ don't have much time."

Abrina closed her eyes, whispering a prayer to Ninurta and took a deep breath as her patron repatched her shoulder.  Now on guard for what might be hidden in the shadows, Abrina took the stairs up.


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## hbarsquared (Dec 19, 2005)

*Chapter Two, Part Four*


Abrina followed the nervous gnome to the second floor.  He motioned for her to hurry, sporadically glancing into every corner of his home, as if expecting another strange creature to leap from the shadows, or even the woodwork itself.  He ignored the door at the far end of the landing, instead retrieving a key from a pocket and unlocked the closest door.  She followed him inside.

The richly appointed bedroom held furniture sized for Ghelve's small stature.  Abrina spotted a coat rack by the door, a cozy bed with a hand-sewn comforter, a clean bedpan, a chest of drawers at the foot of the bed, a wooden screen with birds painted on its panels, a wardrobe, and a small bookcase with some books and trinkets on it.  An unlit lantern sat atop a small end table by the bed.

Ghelve scurried to the foot of the bed where he pulled another key from his vest and opened the chest of drawers there.  He glanced over his shoulder, making sure Abrina, and no one else, occupied the room, and removed a tattered piece of coarse leather from beneath a stack of papers.  Shutting the drawers closed, and locking them with the same key, Ghelve rose and approached Abrina, handing her the piece of leather.

"It's a map," the gnome said in a hoarse whisper.  "To the enclave below, where the short ones and tall ones came from."

"A whole _enclave?_" Abrina said incredulously, pulling the map from Ghelve's shaking hands.  On the old, nearly crumbling, piece of leather a huge complex had been drawn, detailing numerous chambers and stairs.  She had not thought about the origins of the camouflaging creature, but definitely did not expect it to have come from _below_, in the depths beneath the city itself.  And in a tremendous enclave, no less.

"How could such a place go unnoticed?  Surely others know of this huge structure beneath the city?"

The gnome shrugged.  "Some do, but it was abandoned long ago, and many have simply forgotten it exists.  The last time I visited was when I was just a boy, and the only entrance left is here, downstairs.

"It's called Jzaridune, and it was an old gnome enclave of spellcasters.  They would research and develop all sorts of magical items, until one day a strange, magical plague began taking them, one by one, called the Vanishing.  No one's been back since, and that was seventy five years ago."

"Until now," Abrina responded.

"Yes, until now" Ghelve said, hanging his head.  "They surprised me, threatened my life, and took my familiar.  He's somewhere close, he's hungry and frightened, poor thing.  They forced me to make those keys, told me to keep quiet, otherwise they would kill Starbrow, then me next..."

Abrina dismissed Ghelve's excuses.  He had put the lives of everyone in the city in danger to save his own hide and that of his... pet.

"I'm going down there," she said.

"What?"

"I'm going to find those children, and anyone else that may have been kidnapped, thanks to you."

"But, I... I didn't kidnap anybody..."

Abrina wheeled on the gnome, who flinched and cowered by his bed.  "You gave them the keys to the city!  You are just as responsible for their disappearences, and maybe their deaths, as the monsters who did this."

"D-d-deaths?"  Ghelve wrung his hands as his face suddenly lost all of its color.

"I hope not." Abrina replied, heading for the door.  "You said they have the keys?"

"Yes, one of the tall ones has the entire set on a silver ring."

"And the children?"

Ghelve shook his head emphatically.  "I don't know, I really don't.  I hide when they come through the door from below at night.  I don't see them come and I don't see them leave."

Abrina gave an exasperated sigh.  "What about Jzaridune?  This plague you mentioned, what is it?"

"It was some magical plague that swept through the enclave.  I don't know what caused it.  The disease caused several of them to slowly fade away into nothingness.  I don't know whether the plague still poses a threat."

Abrina sighed in exasperation, holding her head in one hand.  "Anything else I should know?" she asked, waving the map in one hand.

"Well, the doors are hard to miss in Jzaridune.  They are gear-shaped and designed to roll to one side or the other.  But, many of them bore traps that only the gnomes could safely bypass."

Abrina closed her eyes in resignation.  "Of course."

"There might be a way past them, though.  I remember my father telling me about secret pasages in Jzaridune, but I don't know where any of them are.  None are shown on the map, at least."

"Oh, well then.  Great.  Very helpful."  Abrina rolled her eyes and stepped out of the room.  "Show me where your secret door is this _Jzaridune_."

Ghelve nodded and quickly ran past her and down the stairs.

"It's here," he said as she arrived at his side, motioning by the curtain, "in the wall of the staircase."  With one more nervous glance around the room, he pushed against the wall.  A secret door separated from the surrounding wood paneling with a loud squeal, revealing a square landing at the top of a stone staircase that descended into darkness.

Almost triumphant, Ghelve gestured to the dark landing.

A loud chime rung through the home as the grandfather clock reached the half-hour.  Ghelve's eyes grew wide and he frantically grasped at Abrina's cloak.

"You must go, now.  Another tall one will be here soon, to replace the other.  If they find the one you killed, _I'll_ be next."

Abrina none-too-gently removed Ghelves clawing hands from her clothing.  "I will go," she said harshly.  "I am not one who will knowingly place _anyone_ in danger, including you."

Turning, she stepped through door.  The stone staircase, its steps shrouded with cobwebs and dust, descended twenty feet to another square landing, then bent to the right and plunged further into the darkness.  Abrina glanced around and removed an unlit torch from an iron sconce mounted to the wall on the landing.  She lit the torch with one of her tindertwigs and swiftly followed the steps.  Above her, she heard the parting words of the gnome locksmith.

"If you find and bring back my Starbrow, I can give you a reward!  Discount on any locks you want!"

Abrina scowled, ignored the gnome, and continued down the flight of stairs.


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## Phyrrus (Dec 23, 2005)

Great writing and now that you are going to be doing this as both a player and writer, hopefully, I can make it entertaining for you still. Just try not to let too much OOC knowledge slip through the cracks..


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## hbarsquared (May 10, 2006)

Due to the great ENWorld crash of '06, I have lost all posts between December and May.  I'm afraid I didn't have any of it backed up.  Did anyone happen to have subscribed to the thread and still has the posts?

Thanks!


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part One


Abrina reached the first landing, bare save for another empty iron torch sconce mounted on the south wall, grumbling to herself as she held the lit torch over her head. The staircase descended another twenty feet before opening into a room. From this landing, Abrina could hear strange sounds emanating from the chamber below, specifically chirping birds, rustling leaves, and cheery giggles. Confused, Abrina hesitantly followed the stairs.

She emerged into an ordinary forty-foot square room with a ten-foot high ceiling. Abrina glanced at her map, recognizing the ten-foot wide open passage in the far wall, directly across from the stairs. A slight draft blew into the room from the passage, and there was no sign of birds, trees, or laughing children.

Two four-foot diameter circular doors were set into the middle of the left wall, each made of wood and framed with a ring of mortared stones. The closest door was closed and inscribed with a strange glyph. The farther door bore a different glyph but rested half-open. The half-open door she recognized from Ghelve's description. It revealed an iron rim of gearlike teeth, and dim light spilled from the chamber beyond.

She stepped into the large room, unnerved by the happy sounds of a summer afternoon contrasting with the dark and foreboding pressure of stone walls. Mounted to the walls of the room were twelve tarnished copper masks, each depicting a smiling gnome's visage, almost two feet tall and clinging four feet above the floor. The soft giggling, chirping, and rustling nosies seemed to pour from the very walls.

Gnomes, Abrina though, shaking her head and forcing a smile to her lips. They had an intrinsic ability to deceive, and even after several decades of neglect the illusions of accomplished gnome spellcasters remained. Understanding the origins of the strange sounds, Abrina felt a large, unnamed weight lift from her shoulders. Perhaps an exploration of the abandoned enclave would not be so bad, after all.

Abrina walked along the edge of the room, examining each mask. Her fingers gently tugged at one, and she discovered they were fastened to the wall as if with some strong glue. They remained stuck to the bare stone and would not be removed except by some strong use of force. Lowering her hand, her curiousity satisfied, she slowly circled the rest of the room.

"Welcome to Jzaridune!" rung out a voice from the mask next to the far passage. Abrina gasped, nearly dropping her torch. The copper mask had animated and continued to speak as Abrina attempted to catch her breath.

Behold the wonder!
But beware, ye who seek to plunder.
Traps abound and guardians peer
Beyond every portal, behind every gear.

"And if we don't seek to plunder?" she asked the mask, exasperated. Abrina did not want to steal anything, so why should she need to worry about traps? "What if I came just to find some kidnapped children?"

The mask refused to respond.

With a shrug, Abrina approached the half-open gear door, holding her torch and peering through the roughly crescent-shaped gap into the room beyond. Several small cots and chests lined the walls of the dusty room, cobwebs blanketing many of the cots and chests with tiny spiders scurrying about.

A one-foot long iron rod lay in the middle of the floor, its golden tip shedding enough light to cast lurid shadows on the walls and illuminating two rough-hewn tunnels, five feet in diameter, breaching two walls.

Abrina eyed the rod quizzically. It looked like a sunrod, an expensive alchemical item that lit areas far better than a simple torch. Sunrods had a limited lifespan, however, of only a few hours.

And it was still lit.
OOC - Wisdom check +3 against DC 10: rolled 19, success.
Backing away from the door she pocketed the map and carefully set her torch into an iron sconce in a nearby wall next to one of the masks. She drew her spear and quietly prayed to Ninurta for his divine favor.
OOC - Casts divine favor.
Prepared, Abrina stepped forward and squeezed into the narrow opening, careful not to jostle the chunk of stone that had been wedged between the teeth of the gear and the floor to keep the door open. Not yet within the next room, she jabbed her spear into the empty space beyond the door.

Two rapiers flashed in the flickering light, knocking her spear.

Dashing through the doorway, she discovered two of the same skulking creatures she had seen in Ghelve's workshop, above, their skin nearly the same color as the dark gray walls of the room. Without thinking, she clenched her spear and thrust it into the gut of one of the creatures. A tall one, she remembered Ghelve saying. It's eyes glazed as it stumbled back, gray blood spilling from its wound.

The second tall one snarled, its rapier deflected by her shield, as the injured creature hobbled toward the tunnel through the far wall. Abrina swiped the attacking tall one, grazing its arm, and dodged another thrust of its rapier.

Glancing over her shoulder at the retreating tall one, Abrina sidestepped the rapier and reached the creature as it stuggled to clamber into the tunnel. She caught it in the back, and the creature shuddered and collapsed with a groan.

Behind her, the second tall one attacked again, its weapon scraping against the stone wall as she shifted out of the way. With teeth clenched, she thrust her spear into the creature's shoulder and wrenched it. The tall one jerked once before its rapier fell from its hand and clattered to the stone floor.
OOC - Abrina's initiative +1: rolled 9. Skulk's initiative +2: rolled 8.
Abrina attacks skulk #1 +5 against AC 12: rolled 15, hit, 12 damage. Skulk #1 at 0 hp. Skulk #2 attacks +3 against AC 18: rolled 14, miss. Skulk #1 retreats.
Abrina attacks skulk #2: rolled 17, hit, 6 damage. Skulk #2 at 6 hp. Skulk #2 attacks: rolled 6, miss. Skulk #1 retreats.
Abrina follows skulk #1, provokes an attack of opportunity. Skulk #2 attacks: rolled 11, miss. Abrina attacks skulk #1: rolled 18, hit, 7 damage. Skulk #1 at -7 hp. Skulk #2 follows Abrina. Skulk #2 attacks: rolled 6, miss. Skulk #1 at -8 hp.
Abrina's attacks skulk #2: rolled 13, hit, 7 damage. Skulk #2 at -1 hp. Skulk #1 at -9 hp. Skulk #2 at -2 hp.
Abrina turned in a full circle, amazed at her success. "Thank you, Ninurta," she said, watching the gray blood of both tall ones pool around their bodies, slowly changing color to match the stone. Her enemies defeated, she began to examine the room.

The cots not not been slept in for years, and the chests had been opened and picked clean. The room contained no information besides the fact that the creatures used this room before heading to the surface.

Abrina brought her torch from the other room and doused it, picking up the sunrod to use instead. She peered around the body of the tall one in the tunnel to find that it split in a T intersection only a few feet away. The other tunnel extended twenty feet to an otherwise empty room on the other side. Not wanting to risk the cramped quarters of the tunnel, and being caught unawares, Abrina retreated back into the large chamber with giggling voices and rustling leave.

For a moment, she contemplated removing the chunk of stone, allowing the door to shut and possibly seal any remaining creatures behind. But, the complex was too big, with too many routes to predict how the creatures would travel. If she closed the door, she may seal off a possible escape route, and leave herself vulnerable to whatever gnomish traps guarded it. Leaving the stone behind, she instead ignored the second gear door and took the open passage.

Abrina discovered herself at the center of a long hallway, its ends barely discernable in the shadows of her elvish vision, with more gear doors embedded along its length. She glanced up and down the hallway, trying to determine from where the slight breeze originated. It seemed somewhat stronger from the left, though she was unsure if it was her imagination, and turned in that direction.
OOC - Flip coin to determine right/left. Tails, south.
Slowly, she made her way down the hall by the light of the sunrod. Dust and debris covered the floor, with no sight or sound of more strange creatures, tall ones or short ones. Abrina saw only sealed circular doors, each with a different, unrecognizable glyph in the center.

Seeing no open passages, mundane doors, or partially opened gear portals, she readied herself to turn back as she approached the far end of the hallway. She would find nothing down this hall, that was obvious--

Without warning, the floor dropped out from beneath her.
OOC - Reflex save +1 against DC 15: rolled 12, failure.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Two


OOC - Wow, two updates in one week! I had a lot of fun writing that last post, and I was on a roll. I thought I might as well post again, since it was already written up. Enjoy!

The sunrod fell from Abrina's grasp as she clawed at the air, attempting to find purchase where there was none. Her legs hit the stone ground and crumpled beneath her, jarring pain shooting up her hips. The rod clattered to the bottom of the pit a few feet away, glancing off a sharpened stake that reached toward the ceiling.
OOC - 20-foot fall: 7 damage. 1 spike attacks +3 against AC 15 (flat-footed, no shield): rolled 9, miss. Abrina at 1 hp.
Regaining her breath, Abrina looked around the bottom of the pit, discovering that she had barely missed one of the spikes. Grasping one, she lifted herself up and gingerly tested her feet. She had definitely twisted an ankle, and she could already feel the bruises spreading across her thighs, but she remained in one piece. Whispering to her patron, she called upon his power to ease her pain.
OOC - Spontaneously casts cure light wounds in place of magic weapon, rolled 9. Abrina at 8 hp.
Abrina picked up the rod, raising it above her head, and examined her surroundings. A few items lay scattered across the pit floor, including a rapier, a light crossbow, and six crossbow bolts, all in good repair and assuredly not remnants of the gnome exodus. Ignoring the rapier, she retrieved the crossbow and the bolts. Picking up the last bolt, her hand brushed against what felt like skin. Squinting her eyes and bringining the sunrod to bear, Abrina made out the nearly camoflauged naked body of one of the tall ones hung impaled on four of the pit's wooden spikes. Bringing her sleeve to cover her mouth, she stepped back.

How will I get out of here? she wondered, placing a hand against the side of the pit. The ledge was far above, and even requesting Ninurta's aid to increase her size would still not give the reach or the strength to grasp the edge. The wall was coarse and sloped very slightly, and Abrina concluded that climbing the wall was her only option.

Methodically she removed her chainmall, knowing that its weight would only serve to pull her back into the pit, and if she fell again when nearing the top ledge, she may not survive a second time. Abrina tucked the sunrod into her belt and removed a length of rope from her pack, tying it through a sleeve of her armor, the grip of her shield, the tip of her spear, and the other end around her waist. It's length was longer than the pit was deep, and once she reached the top Abrina could pull her armor up the side.

Abrina manuevered through the spikes to the corner of the pit. She sought a small handhold and lifted herself up with a grunt. She managed to make it nearly half way when her grip slipped and she slid back into the pit.
OOC - Climb check +3 (0 ranks, +3 Str) against DC 15 (DC 20, -5 for climbing corner): rolled 23, progress 5 feet.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 4, 10-foot fall, 4 damage. Abrina at 4 hp.
In frustration, Abrina pounded the pit wall with a bare palm, but after inahling deeply, braced herself in the corner and attempted a second time.

And a third time. And a fourth time.

Each time, the handholds slipped from her grasp, dust and bare rock tearing at her fingers. Scraped, sweating, and bleeding, she perservered, and after a blur of several tries, she finally discovered herself nearing the top of the pit.
OOC - Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 10, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 11, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 13, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 12, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 7, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 16, progress 5 feet.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 5, 10-foot fall, 3 damage. Abrina at 1 hp.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 5, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 11, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 10, failure.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 16, progress 5 feet.
Climb check +3 against DC 15: rolled 20, progress 5 feet.
Abrina breathed deeply without looking down at the spike-lined floor of the pit. Falling from this height would definitely put her in more danger than she preferred.

"Dear Ninurta," she prayed, pressing her body close to the stone, "please guide my hand and bless me with the strength to escape this pit." A warmth suffused her palms and with renewed confidence she reached for another handhold.

Her foot slipped, with dust and small stones clattering down the pit face to the floor below. Abrina's heart thudded in her ears as her hands struggled to hold her body against the stone. With her god's help, she somehow managed to keep her hold, and slowly crawled over the lip of the edge.
OOC - Casts guidance. Climb check +4 (0 ranks, +3 Str, +1 guidance) against DC 15: rolled 15, reaches top.

Abrina collapsed on her back at the edge of the pit trap, exhausted and worn, staring at the ceiling of the hall. With Ninurta's guidance, she had succeeded.

"Thank you," she whispered under her breath to her god, and struggled to lift herself to a sitting position.

Abrina pulled on the rope, lifting her equipment to the ledge, and took a few moments to don her armor. Readied, she stood and weighed her options, staring at the stone wall at the end of the hallway across from the open pit. She pulled out Ghelve's map and stared at it in hopes of finding another path to take that did not require bypassing the trapped gear doors.

Her eyes narrowed as she examined the passageway where she curently found herself. The gear doors were clearly labelled, as well as the two opposing doors at the end, but the map showed the hall continuing into another room, whereas she saw nothing but an unremarkable stone wall.

Perplexed, she pulled out her new crossbow and practiced loading one of the bolts. Raising it, she took aim at the wall and pulled the trigger.

To her surprise, the bolt sped through the wall as if it was air, and distantly she heard it clatter.

Clever, she thought, An illusory wall. What's hiding back there? Strapping the crossbow to her waist she inched along the edge of the pit to the other side and slowly brought her hand up to the illusion. She smiled as her hand simply disappeared through it. Closing her eyes, blocking out the disturbing presence of the wall, she stepped through.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Two (Reader's edit: Three)


OOC - Thanks, Crusade, for your comments. We'll see if she survives... Her periapt of wound closure should be helpful, and hopefully the quick levelling and extra items will help make up for the challenges.

Now let's take a look behind that illusory wall...

Abrina passed through the wall without difficulty, her sunrod revealing two familiar circular doors in the center of the walls on either side of the room. Carved into the opposite wall was a large map with lines that glowed faintly, showing various interconnected rooms and corridors. The passageways outlined on the wall map were the same as those on her own, revealing no secret passageways that Ghelve had hinted at, nor the methods to bypass whatever traps sealed the gear doors.

With a sigh, Abrina returned to the hallway through the illusionary wall and bypassed the pit trap. Gingerly, she slowly made her way to the opposite end of the hall, aware and ready for any other pits that might appear beneath her. When she reached the section of floor just before the two doors at the end, she inched along the wall to be safe. Coming to the stone wall, she lifted a hand and half-expected it to slip through the surface as she touched it.

Her hand fell upon solid stone.

She traced the outline of the mortared stones with one finger, pleading to Ninurta that there was a secret way. The children were down here in this forgotten enclave, somewhere. She did not want to risk the doors and become a permanent resident here, herself. Nor did she want to hazard the crudely made tunnels where skulking creatures lurked. Abrina would, of course, if it came to it, but she prayed that she would not have to.

The stone did not magically reveal any hidden passage, and Abrina dropped her hand in defeat.
OOC - Casts guidance. Search check +1 (0 ranks, -1 int, +1 guidance) against DC 20: rolled 5, failure.
Abrina turned back down the hall, again avoiding the area near the two gear doors, and retraced her steps back to the room with the gnome masks.

The door remained ajar, just as Abrina had left it. She peered into the dark room and saw it just as she had left it: the denizens had not yet discovered the deaths of the creatures. She still had time to find the tall one with the set of keys, and the creature was down one of the tunnels. Abrina stepped into the room and breathed deeply. If none had yet detected her presence, she might have a chance to find the keys unheard and unseen.

Standing before the tunnel, Abrina slowly removed her armor, shield, and bow laying them carefully against the wall. She discarded her spear, as well, considering it to awkward to yield within the confines of the tunnel. She removed the dagger from her belt and grasped it firmly as she ducked her head and entered the tunnel, crawling over the corpse of the tall one. After two intersections she reached another room, barely lit, and Abrina peered from her crawlspace.
OOC - Flip coin to determine right/left: heads, west. Second turn: heads, west. Move Silently check +1 (0 ranks, +1 Dex) against DC -1: success.
Dead rats, burnt tindertwigs, and bits of broken stone littered the floor of the room whose only furnishings included a cot against the northeast wall and a wooden chest bearing a dented lantern. The lantern was lit, but barely enought light escaped through its shutters to illuminate the room. Across from the tunnel was a familiar round door. On the cot was a cloak encasing the form of a tall one, sleeping.

Abrina lowered herself to the rubble-strewn floor and slowly approached the creature. As it slept, she removed a length of rope from her pack, cutting off a piece a few feet in length, and placed them on the cot next to the sleeping creature. Abrina took a deep breath and lowered the dagger to the creature's neck, a hairsbreadth away, and clamped her other hand on the creature's mouth.

"Wake up," she hissed as the pale eyes of the creature shot open. "Wake up, you miserable creature, and don't struggle or your life is mine." She pressed the dagger against the rapidly whitening skin so the creature could feel the touch of cold steel. It froze.

Abrina could not be sure if it understood her words, but it knew it was at her mercy. She flicked her eyes to the rope at the creature's side.

"Now, take that rope and gag yourself. Tightly."

She saw no recognition in the creature's pale face, so she nodded to the rope a second time. Slowly, it reached a hand over and grabbed the rope. Keeping her hand across its mouth, she motioned for it to place the rope in her hand's place.

Slowly, the creature followed her pantomimed directions, placing the rope into its own mouth and tying it in a knot behind its head. Abrina stepped back, keeping her eyes upon the creature and holding the dagger threateningly she picked up the remaining rope and bound its hands. Satisfied it was not capable of attacking her or calling for help, she rummaged through its possessions, discovering a small stone with jagged carvings and a silver ring with three keys. She clenched the keys in triumph.

"You won't be kidnapping any more children now, you skulk," she said.

The bound creature could do nothing but stare blankly at her.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Three (Reader's edit: Part Four)


OOC - Another quick update, mainly to move things along so that Abrina can actually get a chance to level up...

Abrina returned to Ghelve's shop above with the creature in tow and immediately had the gnome summon the town guard. He tried to object, but when she threatened to unbind the "tall one," he paled and scurried out the front door in search of one.

She handed the keys over to the guard sergeant and his patrol that arrived an hour later, explaining their function and pointing out the creature as one of the kidnappers residing in the structure below. Ghelve confessed his involvement, shaking in fear and unable to avert his eyes from their breatplates emblazoned with the town emblem, a watchful eye wreathed in flames.

"Don't take me to jail," Ghelve pleaded, clasping his hands. "They forced me to do it, they threatened me! And they took Starbrow! What was I suppossed to do?"

The sergeant, a grizzled veteran with a red face and bulging nose, rolled his eyes as he motioned for the other guards to remove the creature.

"You won't go to jail, Ghelve," the sergeant said, "but you will have to come with us. You'll likely pay a fine for your involvement, and you will help us find the rest of the kidnapped victims. In the meantime, your shop is closed."

Ghelve gulped and nodded.

"Get your things. You won't be back for a while."

Ghelve nodded again and retreated upstairs. The sergeant turned to face Abrina.

"As for you, thank you for your help. We will need you to answer some questions, though, as soon as you're able."

"Thank you," Abrina said, leaning heavily against a wall. The adrenaline of victory had worn off, and her aches had already begun to take their toll.

"I still want to help," she continued. "When will I be able to go back and search for the missing children?"

The sergeant scoffed. "That is not your concern. I thank you for your help, but now that we know the location of the kidnappers, we will find the missing victims. Rest, then let us know what you have discovered so far. We will take care of the rest."

"But, the Church..." Abrina protested as Ghelve slowly made his way back down the stairs.

The sergeant held up a hand. "No. I have said before: it is not your concern, and we do not need the Church's help. Ghelve, are you ready?"

The gnome nodded. "Can I say good-bye, and thank Abrina for her help?"

"Yes," he said, turning to secure the bonds on the creature.

"Pleas find my Starbrow," Ghelve whispered to Abrina, clasping his small hands in her own. She felt the touch of cold metal in her palm as he stepped back.

They left the shop, escorted by the guard, and Ghelve locked the door behind them. Abrina blinked in the sunlight, finding it hard to believe she had been gone only a few hours.

"Do you need someone to help you to the temple?" asked the sergeant.

"No, no, I'm fine," she said, concealing the key Ghelve had given her moments before and placing it into one of the pockets of her vestments. "Thank you."

She hurried to the Church of Enlil, eager to report to Jenya of her discoveries, and at least a partial answer to the riddle.

* * *

Jenya had seemed reluctant to allow Abrina to return to Jzaridune. If the guard had forbid her from returning, then Abrina should not interfere. Yet, the guard had also promised to resolve the kidnappings and shown themselves incapable of doing so. And Jenya had made a vow of her own to find the children and bring the kidnappers to justice. In the end, she agreed with Abrina, but encouraged her to rest for the night first before returning in the morning.

Jenya called upon the blessing of Enlil to heal Abrina so that she may rest peacefully, and when Abrina awoke she felt invigorated and ready to face Jzaridune once again. Before leaving, Jenya approached her and provided her with a small vial of clear liquid, a potion that would cure any moderate wounds she might sustain in the underground enclave. Abrina thanked her, hefted her spear, and headed for Ghelve's Locks in the bright morning sun.
OOC - Check out Abrina's new character sheet in the third post to see her as a 2nd-level character!


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Four (Reader's edit: Part Five)


OOC - Abrina has enough experience to level up a second time, to 3rd-level, but I think it would be a bit much for that to happen twice in one day. I will try to work it so that she levels up only overnight.
The heavy rains of the previous nights had washed the filth and the smoke from the air, leaving the sky a deep, brilliant blue and the cool morning air crisp and clean. A smattering of clouds dotted the sky and raced above the cauldron of the volcano, throwing huge areas of the city into shadow to emerge just as quickly into the bright sunlight.

Abrina was well rested and fully healed, empowered with the blessings of Ninurta and ready to face the challenges of the day.

She tested the door to Ghelve's Locks, which remained locked from the previous day. No watch guards stood outside and Abrina assumed she had arrived in time to continue her own investigations and reach the children. She removed the key from within her robes and slid it into the lock, satisfied to hear the resulting click.

Removing the key, Abrina shut the door gently behind her, ducked through the hanging curtain, and entered the secret door. No camouflaged creatures attacked, and she hoped that none would. Without activating a sunrod, she crept down the staircase in silence and without light.

She entered the room with the slight breeze and giggling voices, and she saw the faint glimmer of light coming from the crack in the gear door of the room were she had battled the two tall ones the day before. She could make out two distinct voices within the room, speaking to each other in a strange, unknown language filled with hisses and harsh consonants. As she walked toward the room, the voices suddenly fell quiet.

Abrina froze in place within the darkness, the rustling of leaves covering the sound of her breathing. After a few moments, the creatures resumed their conversation and Abrina relaxed.
OOC - Move Silently check +1 (0 ranks, +1 Dex) against DC 12 (rolled 11, -1 Wis, +2 aware): rolled 13, success.
Slowly, she drew her shortbow and retrieved an arrow, nocking it against the string as she slowly stepped forward, keeping to the enveloping darkness, until she could see into the room. The two creatures were standing, with rapiers already drawn, just within view of the door. As she drew back the arrow, one glanced out the door, toward her, and stopped in mid-sentence, eyes widening.
OOC - Hide check +1 (0 ranks, +1 Dex) against DC 5 (rolled 6, -1 Wis, -2 20 ft., +2 aware): rolled 3, failure.
Her heart thudded in her chest as adrenaline surged through her system, and Abrina let the arrow fly.
OOC - No surprise round. Abrina's initiative +1: rolled 3. Skulks' initiative +2: rolled 21.
Skulk's move out of view. Abrina attacks without a visible target.
The two creatures dodged in opposite directions, avoiding the arrow that hit the opposite wall, and disappeared from sight. Cursing her luck she dropped her bow and drew her spear as she ran into the room, wincing as she passed through the door expecting an attack from either side. To her surprise, neither of the creatures remained, but both had managed to escape, one through each of the tunnels. Making a snap decision, Abrina scooped up the used sunrod from the floor and charged into the closest tunnel.
OOC - Flip coin to determine right/left. Heads, south.
Abrina squeezed into the tunnel and abruptly found herself facing the familiar fork in the passage without knowing which direction the creature took. With a frustrated growl, she crawled through the cramped tunnel to find it come to a a dead-end and rise upward, with a cone of light illuminating the stone.
OOC - Flip coin to determine right/left. Tails, east.
Abrina climbed the sloping tunnel, and when she neared the edge and looked up she was startled to find another of the tall ones waiting for her with a crossbow pointed directly at her.

Abrina did not see the creature pull the trigger, or the bolt speed toward her, but she instantly felt the jarring pain in her left shoulder and the thick, warm blood that began to seep into her robe. Without glancing at the bolt sticking out of her muscle, she gripped the spear in her other hand and with a loud cry launched it at the creature.

The smile of victory on the face of the tall one evaporated in a split second as the spear penetrated its chest and the creature stumbled backward from view and collapsed against a wall.
OOC - Abrina's initiative +1: rolled 18. Skulk's initiative +2: rolled 18. Skulk has higher Dex.
Skulk attacks +3 (bab +1, Dex +2) against AC 17 (flat-footed): rolled 22, critical hit, 9 damage. Abrina at 5 hp. Abrina attacks +2 against AC 12: rolled 22, critical hit, 20 damage. Skulk at -9 hp.
Abrina struggled over the lip of the tunnel to find herself in a small, closet-sized room. She grasped the bolt in her shoulder and with a gasp of pain she wrenched it out, feeling woozy as a rush of blood spilled down her arm. Taking deep, heaving breaths, she called upon Ninurta's favor.
OOC - Spontaneously casts cure light wounds in place of magic weapon: rolled 8. Abrina at 13 hp. 
Abrina put her back against the wall as she recovered, the dead tall one across from her lying in a spreading pool of its own gray blood. She raised the sunrod and surveyed her surroundings and noticed an etched outline of a door in one wall. Abrina scrambled for the map she still carried and found that she was in a small, hidden room off the side of a much larger chamber.

It seemed she had found another way.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Five (Reader's edit: Part Six)


OOC - This story hour has just gotten more and more fun to write. I love having the guideline of the Dungeon adventure to direct Abrina and the flow of the story. It has been great fun for me, and I hope that my readers are enjoying it as much as I.

Tracing her fingers along the outline of the secret door, Abrina found a hidden panel in the stonework. She pressed it and stepped back to watch the four-foot square section of stone pivot on a central vertical axis to reveal a dark chamber beyond.

Abrina held up the sunrod to see empty weapn racks lining the walls of the dusty, 10-foot high room. In the middle of the floor rested a large wooden chest with a flat lid and iron hinges. Atop the chest sat a small silver cage holding a rat with a white star-shaped splotch of fur on its tiny forehead. It gripped the bars and squeaked excitedly at the sight of her as she stepped into the room.

"So, you must be the infamous Starbrow, huh?" she asked as she approached the rat's cage."

Abrina came within a few feet of Starbrow when suddenly in a guttural language.

Abrina yelped and jumped back from the talking chest, not understanding its tongue. It said a few more words, perhaps the sound of a question in its voice, and then the chest creature fell silent and once again resembled an ordinary chest.
OOC - Spot check +4 against DC 22: rolled 6, failure.
The rat familiar continued to tug at the bars, squeaking in desperation.

She kneeled, clasping her hands in prayer to Ninurta. She had been worried she would need to understand the language of the creatures that dwelled here, and prepared for just such a circumstance. Abrina did not expect she would first need to call upon Ninurta's aid when a chest began to speak with her.

A calm reassurance of understanding fell upon her, and ABrina lifted her hands in peace as she approached the talking chest. It's mouth once again opened and spoke, but she simply shook her head and held out a hand to establish the connection she needed to understand.

The creature allowed her to approach, and Abrina placed her hand upon it, somewhat startled to find its texture like slick flesh. She withdrew her hand quickly, but found that she could now comprehend its language.

"What do ya want?" it asked.

Abrina pointed to the cage with Starbrow within.

"Oh reallly? It'll cost ya. The skulks around here think I can live off just rats and spiders. I have better taste'n that."

"Skulks?" questioned Abrina.

"Yeah, those guys with changin' skin. I'm sure you've seen 'em. They raid the surface for slaves and hand them off to some hobgoblins, who then take the slaves to a place called the Malachite Fortress."

"Oh," responded Abrina, the words to the divination coming to mind. Descend into the malachite ‘hold, Where precious life is bought with gold.

"So do you want the rat, or what?"

"Yes, yes," Abrina said, nodding, holding out her hands in question. What could this creature possibly want?

"Got anything worthwhile on hand?"

Abrina nodded and turned to dig through her pack, pulling out some of her remaining rations, including bread, slices of meat and cheese, and pieces of fruit. "How about some of these?" she asked.

Emotions were impossible to read on the chest creature, but she got the distince sense of exceitement from the tone of its voice. "Or those... apples ya have there?" it asked.

She held one up, picking up a pear as well, and nodded.

"Give 'em all to me, and you can take the rat."

Amazed at her luck, Abrina dumped the remaining pieces of fruit from her pack and gave them to the chest creature. In a flash, a thick pseudopod sprung from the creature and scooped all of the food into its mouth in one, quick gesture. A few moments of crunching sounds, and then nothing. The creature seemed satisfied.

"Ya might want the key, though. The skulk back there used'a have it."

Abrina nodded again, in thanks, and returned to the secret closet. Cringing, she searched the skulk's body to find a tiny silver key around its neck. When she returned to the chamber, the chest creature ignored her as she unlocked the cage and carefully removed Starbrow, seemingly unharmed.

"Thanks," she said over her shoulder as she returned to the hidden closet. The chest creature, not understanding her, gave its equivalent of a shrug. With Starbrow under one arm, she climbed back into the tunnel and soon returned to the surface.
OOC - I gave no experience to Abrina for this encounter, since there was no real challenge and no rolls made.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Six (Reader's edit: Part Seven)

Abrina left Starbrow behind in Ghelve's bedroom with a small handful of food pellets she discovered in one of his drawers. She wanted to return as quickly as possible to Jzaridune, before any more creatures discovered her presence in the underground enclave.

The guardroom adjoining the chamber of giggles and rustling leaves was empty when she returned. The room where she had found Ghelve's familiar had no obvious exits besides the ubiquitous gear doors that she refused to challenge. Two choices remained: the unknown fork in the tunnel she had already explored, or the other tunnel that extended indefinitely beyond the light of her sunrod.

With a shrug, she ducked into the familiar tunnel and followed the unexplored fork.
OOC - Flip coin to determine right/left: heads, south.
Flickering light spilled from a great hall into the tunnel as she reached its end.
OOC - Listen check +4 against DC 10: rolled 6, failure.
Slowly, she lowered herself from the tunnel and stepped into the large hall, illuminated from end to end, corner to corner, by four bright lights. They flickered and danced like torchlight and drifted aimlessly about the hall, changing altitude and direction on a whim.

Eight black marble pillars supported the thirty-foot high ceiling of the majestic hall. The pillars were carved to resemble gnome artisans and warriors standing on each other's shoulders, bracing the vaulted roof with their collective strength. The walls were adorned with faded murals depicting gnomes in reverie--playing pipes, dancing, performing acrobatic stunts, drinking wine, and so forth. Abrina could almost hear the joyous exultation of the gnomes, as if the enclave had never been abandoned.

The forty-foot wide hall widened to sixty feet at the south end, where Abrina saw a large circular pool enclosed by a semicircular, one-foot high veined marble wall. Carved into the wall above the pool was a gnome visage with water spilling from its wide grin, the sound of trickling water filling the chamber.

Two piles of rubble, one in the near corner to her right, and another to her right in the far corner at the end of the hall, added elements of imperfection to the grand hall.

Abrina hefted her spear, certain that the skulk that had escaped through the tunnel not long before hid somewhere in this chamber, but she could not see the creature anywhere.
OOC - Spot check +4 against DC 42: automatic failure.
She called upon Ninurta's favor and slowly began to walk down the hall.
OOC - Casts divine favor.
After her first step, she heard a whistling in the air and a crossbow bolt clattered against the wall behind her. In the distance, at the other end of the hall, she heard a short growl, and wasted precious seconds trying to figure out exactly from where it came. The second bolt that skidded against the stone floor only inches away prompted her into action, and she dove for the nearest pillar.
OOC - Surprise round. Skulk attacks from cover, +3 against AC 17 (flat-footed): rolls 15, miss. Abrina's Spot check +4 against DC 20 (Hide check +22, -20 sniping): rolls 16, failure.
Abrina's initiative +1: rolls 17. Skulk's initiative +2: rolls 21.
Skulk loads crossbow, attacks: rolls 16, miss. Abrina moves to pillar for total cover.
Abrina took slow, deep breathes, straining to hear any noises that might give away the skulk's movements, and heard nothing. Her heart pounding loudly in her ears, Abrina peeked from around the marble pillar in hopes of catching a glimpse of the hidden creature. She nothing.

Clenching her spear for strength, she whispered a quick prayer to Ninurta and dashed from behind the pillar. She passed the next one as another crossbow bolt flew through the empty space just behind her, and she skidded to a stop behind the second-to-last pillar of the hall, pressing her back firmly against the cold stone.
OOC - Skulk's ready action. Skulk attacks +3 against AC 17 (flat-footed): rolls 9, miss.
Abrina clasped both hands on her spear, pointing it upward, and prayed to Ninurta for his blessing of size. She felt His touch upon her, and the pillar began to rub against her back as she grew in height and the floor fell away beneath her.

She stepped from behind the pillar, now much smaller to her than before, and peered into the shadows behind the pillars as another bolt was loosed in her direction. It struck her, glancing off her chain armor, and Abrina smiled as she saw the outline of the creature.
OOC - Abrina casts enlarge and steps out from behind pillar. Skulk's ready action. Skulk attacks, +3 against AC 16 (-1 size, +0 Dex): rolls 7, miss. Abrina's Spot check +4 against DC 21 (Hide check +22, -20 sniping): rolls 24, success.
Abrina lowered her weapon, grasping it tightly with both hands, and charged the creature with a yell as the skulk stared at her with wide, luminous eyes. She ran the creature straight through, her spear jutting out its back as the creature's eyes rolled back and its crossbow fell from its limp hand.
OOC - Abrina charges, +8 (+2, +4 Str, -1 size, +1 divine favor, +2 charging) against AC 16 (+4 cover): rolls 18, hit, 14 damage. Skulk at -4 hp.
At least one more, she thought to herself, roughly removing her spear from the skulk and wiping off its gray blood on its small pack it carried. Wonder where they could be?

With the skulk on the ground, its skin slowly shifting color to match the stone floor, Abrina examined her surroundings as the dancing lights cast flickering shadows throughout the grand hall. The rubble at the large end was gathered at the entrance to another tunnel, and two archways were open on either side of the fountain. Two other archways, she had noticed, were at the other end of the hall, as well. Glancing at the map, she returns to the tunnel entrance of the hall and takes the passage to the left, entering a smaller hallway.

Smaller passages branch off at right angles, leading to more gear doors. Abrina skipped over them and ascended two short flights of stairs leading up to a seventy-foot long, thirty-foot wide octagonal gallery with a fifteen-foot high vaulted ceiling. She stepped into the gallery with her nearly spent sunrod to see twenty web-shrouded pedestals standing about the room, and walls showing signs of having once born tapestries and other fixtures. However, the items once displayed here have long since been removed. Two familiar flanked either side of the empty gallery.

Abrina's footsteps echoed in the large, dusty room as she walked slowly from pedestal to pedestal. Everything was gone, but she could not help but wonder what magnificent works had been beheld in this very room by the gnomes of so many decades past. She began to imagine mesmerizing landscapes woven from silk and gold adorning the stone walls, sculptures of marble and bronze depicting nobles and lovers displayed upon the pedestals. She wondered what could have caused the gnomes to abandon their home, what disaster had struck, and why strange, unnatural creatures were wandering their ancient halls and kidnapping children from the city above.

Abrina sighed and turned away, descending the staircase and leaving the lonely gallery behind.
OOC - Abrina gained 600 xp for defeating the skulk.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

Chapter Three, Part Seven (Reader's edit: Part Eight)

Abrina returned to the grand hall with dancing lights and took the second passage near the pool, glancing over her shoulder at the remaining passages with stairs ascending into darkness. Leaving the hall behind, she entered another large room.

Four ornate pillars supported the twenty-foot high vaulted ceiling of the room, which was illuminated by lanterns hanging in the corners. Tattered red curtains dangled from iron rods mounted on the walls and pillars. Four rows of ornately carved benches stood in the rectangular area defined by the pillars.

Partially set into the south wall was a raised wooden stage with two short staircases leading up to it. Black curtains partially concealed the back wall of the stage, which was painted with an elaborate woodland mural in faded colors.

Abrina stepped into the empty theatre, walking down a row between benches, discarding her expired sunrod. Much like the gallery, the theatre had been long abandoned. She traced her fingers along the walls of the chamber as she approached the stage, taking one of the short staircases to the wooden platform. The black curtains creating a small area between the stage and the stone wall behind them disintegrated at her touch. Abrina walked across the stage, staring into the weakly lit audience chamber, when she noticed the outline of a small trapdoor in the floor.

Curious, she gently placed her fingers through the hole in the wood, the handhold, and pulled up the door. Beneath was a ladder leading into a three-foot tall, cobweb-filled storage area, lost in flickering shelters from the lights above.

The cobwebs were not undisturbed.
OOC - Wisdom check +3 against DC 15: rolled 21, success.
Abrina loaded the crossbow at her side and silently drew her spear, holding its tip directed into the small area, and prayed to Ninurta to enhance her sight. In the darkness, she saw a shifting figure, limbs far too long and twisted for the creature to be any kind of humanoid. Two narrow eyes stared back.
OOC - Casted guidance. Spot check +4 (+4, +1 guidance, -1 10 ft. distance) against DC 19: rolled 23, success.
From the darkness a tentacle uncoiled with frightening speed, lashing out for her neck. Abrina reflexively held up her shield, deflecting the rubbery arm at the last moment. She did not see the second tentacle and as she tried to regain her balance a spiny pad wrapped around her neck.

Abrina cried out as the pad began to constrict around her windpipe, but she battered at the tentacle with her shield arm as she jerked her head to the side and felt the suction grip loosen. Just in time she dodged another tentacle from the creature beneath the stage. As the tentacles withdrew, Abrina gritting her teeth and launched her spear.

Her spear glanced off the creature's hide, clattering against the stone floor below. She cursed her luck, bashing away the tentacles that whipped toward her in response, the dull thuds reverberating up her arm and into her shoulder. Boxes tumbled over as the creature skittered across the small room, diving behind a clothing rack of decaying garments.

Abrina drew her crossbow, training the bolt on the rack below. A tentacle appeared from between pieces of clothing and she loosed the bolt. She barely caught a glance of the speeding bolt lodging itself in rotting clothing before the tentacle again found purchase around her neck. Again, she bashed at the tentacle until its grip loosened and Abrina stumbled, raggedly gasping for breath. The other tentacle caught her in the chest, slipping against her chainmail, and Abrina somehow managed to duck another follow-up attack.

Abrina stepped away from the trapdoor and tossed the crossbow to the ground, fishing out the small vial that Jenya had handed to her before she had even heard of Jzaridune. She held it to her lips, swallowing the thick fluid in one gulp. The grace of Enlil healed most of the flaring red welts around her neck, easing her pain.

Her shield arm, still bruised from fending off the rapid tentacles, weighed her down as she inhaled deeply, catching her breath. More boxes from the storage area below toppled over, and two spiny pads grasped the ledge of the trapdoor, pulling up the rubbery form of the creature. Its mottled, hairless body was no larger than a halfling, yet its arms extended to over three times its height, coiling in the air like writhing snakes.

Abrina cringed, weaponless, behind her shield, preparing herself for the coming onslaught.
OOC - Abrina's initiative +1: rolled 3. Choker's initiative +6: rolled 10.
Choker attacked, +6 against AC 18: rolled 7, miss. Second attack, +6: rolled 26, hit, 5 damage. Abrina at 9 hp. Grapple check +5: rolled 21. Abrina's oppossed grapple check +4: rolled 24, grapple failed. Third attack (quickness), +6: rolled 17, miss. Abrina attacked choker, +3 against AC 17: rolled 14, miss.
Choker attacked, +6: rolled 11, miss. Second attack, +6: rolled 11, miss. Moved, Hide check +10: rolled 20. Abrina drew crossbow. Spot check +3 (+4, -1 10 ft. distance) against DC 20: rolled 16, failure. Readied action to attack when choker attacks.
Choker attacked, triggering Abrina's readied attack. Abrina attacked, +1 (+3, -2 one-handed): rolled 13, miss. Choker attacked, +6, rolled 18, hit, 6 damage. Abrina at 3 hp. Grapple check +5: rolled 17. Abrina's oppossed grapple check +4: rolled 20, grapple failed. Second attack, +6: rolled 13, miss. Third attack, +6: rolled 14, miss.
Abrina took 5-ft. step back. Used potion of cure moderate wounds, healed 7. Abrina at 10 hp. Choker moved out the trapdoor.
With lightning speed a tentacle shot out, knocking aside her shield as if she held a piece of parchment, and encircled her neck. Desperately she brought both hands to the tentacle, clawing at the rubbery skin as the spiny pad bit into her skin and squeezed. She could not breathe and as the tentacle tighted its grip darkness overcame her sight.
OOC - Choker attacked, +6: rolled 19, hit, 5 damage. Abrina at 5 hp. Grapple check +5: rolled 25. Abrina's oppossed grapple check +4: automatic failure. Constrict, 6 damage. Abrina at -1 hp.
As Abrina lost consciousness, she felt the tentacle's grip loosening and at the edge of her quickly fading hearing she thought she heard shouts in the distance and the fluttering of the black curtains behind her. Her eyes closed, her arms went limp, and Abrina fell to the stage floor.


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## Solarious (May 10, 2006)

And... that's as much as I can find off Google's caching system, up to the Feburary 1'st updates. I'll find time later to format the posts with sblocks or colors.

Hope this helps Jeremy.


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## hbarsquared (May 10, 2006)

Immensely, *Solarious*.  I owe you one.

Actually...  *counts*

I owe you eight.

Thank you!


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## hbarsquared (May 10, 2006)

Found another post...

Chapter Three, Part Eight (Edit: Part Nine)


OOC - Abrina at -1 hp, automatically stabilizes.
* * * * *

Felian lowered his spyglass and shifted his position on the rooftop after the cleric unlocked the door to the locksmith's shop and stepped inside.

She's in, Felian mentally communicated to Fario on the neighboring rooftop.

Of course she is! Fario responded. I can see as well as you.

Felian gave a mental shrug. They both knew quite well that if Fario had indeed been the first to notice, Fario would have made absolutely sure that Felian knew exactly that.

Felian tucked away his spyglass in a beltloop and slowly crawled back from the ledge, hoping to avoid being spotted by any of the passerbys on the cobblestoned road below. When he reached the ladder against the side of the brick shop, he lithely swung his leg over and scurried down the rungs. He jumped the last few feet, landing quietly in the alley, to find Fario already there and grinning.

"I won," Fario said.

He stood with hands on his waist in a triumphant stance. Fario was a young and eager half-elf, as was Felian, but that was where the similarities ended. Fario had a pale complexion with crisp blue eyes and silky blonde hair pulled back in three braids and avoided the sun whenever he could, preferring winter and all the rainstorms and cold fog that accompanied it. Felian, on the other hand, relished the spring and summer, with tanned skin, bright green eyes, and curly black hair.

Felian smiled back, unperturbed. "I wasn't racing."

The two half-elves crossed the road to stand at the front foor of Ghelve's Locks, where moments before Abrina, the foreign cleric of Ninurta, just entered.

"Hold on a moment, let me get out my tools," Fario said, digging into his pockets. "You stand in front while I try to open the lock."

Felian nodded and reached out to test the door handle. It opened easily.

Fario wrinkled his nose and sighed, pocketing the tools he had retrieved. The two entered the brightly lit room and closed the door behind them. Felian slid the bolt into place, locking the shop.

Fario and Felian explored the shop, opened the unlocked chests and examining their contents, sifted through the keys on display, and rifled through some of Ghelve's possessions on the second floor. Abrina was not in sight, and there was no evidence pertaining to either the kidnappings or the Cagewrights.

She didn't just disappear, Fario said mentally, pulling open an empty drawer.

There must be a secret passage, a hidden door, or something, replied Felian through their telepathic bond.

They entered the kitchen, which contained all the basic amenities, including a table with an hourglass resting atop it. A fireplace dominated one wall, with pots hanging from hooks on either side. Two cabinets with frosted-glass doors held dishware and utensils. A half-barrel washbasin stood in the gar corner next to a pantry. All of the furniture seemed perfectly sized for a gnome or halfling.

Felian was examining the fireplace when they both heard a loud squeal from downstairs, and a voice drift up from below.

"Hungry, Starbrow? I'd think so. Let's get you something to eat."

Felian's eyes met with Fario. We need to hide, now!

Fario frantically searched the kitchen and his gaze locked on the pantry door. In there! he thought, and grabbed the handle. It jiggled in his grasp and refused to open.

Quick, unlock it! yelled Felian into Fario's mind, glancing over his shoulder. He could hear Abrina's footsteps on the staircase already.

Fario fumbled for his tools, inserting them into the pantry lock. He shifted the prongs around within the keyhole, trying to get the tumblers to fall into place.

Hurry!

The cleric had reached the landing.

I am! Fario pulled out a slightly smaller prong and slid the tool in next to the other one last time. He twisted, and the lock clicked.
OOC - Open Lock check, +6 against DC 20: rolled 12, failure. Open Lock check, +6: rolled 23, success.
Fario silently opened the door, motioning Felian inside. The expected supply of preserved foodstuffs and spices lined the walls of the pantry, with just enough room for the two half-elves to fit, standing face to face. Fario pulled on the door, closing it from the inside and plunging the pantry into darkness. The two held their breaths as they heard a nearby door open and close.

They heard Abrina's muffled voice a few times, then silence.

You're standing on my foot.

Sorry. Let me just...

"Ow!"

Shhhh!

You just stepped on my other foot!

I didn't mean to, it was an accident.

You did that on purpose.

What? I can't see a thing in here, let alone your foot. And stop poking me with your hand.

That's not my hand.

Oh, you've got to be kidding--

Shhhh! Hear that?

What?

Shhh.

From downstairs came the same loud squeal they had heard before, then nothing.

"Okay, let's go," said Felian. "There's a hidden door down there, and we are going to find it. Now, open the door."

Fargo grasped the handle and pushed.

"Uh, Felian?" Fario put his weight against the door and pushed again, without success.

"Yeah?"

"It's locked."


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## Richard Rawen (May 15, 2006)

Huzzah !  Glad to see you back in action Jeremy!

Kudo's Solarious, thanks for saving one of my regular reads from an ignomious end =-)


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## hbarsquared (May 15, 2006)

Okay, here's the plan.  In the next few days I will post summaries of all the updates between February and May - a quick rundown.  After that, I am considering a reformat of this Story Hour.

One of the reasons for my sparse updates are finding the time to run the simulated combats and making all of the necessary rolls.  I understand that part of the allure of this story hour, however, might be just that: the only one to really show the game mechanics behind the curtain of the narrative.  The issue, however, is that I don't believe I have the time or the energy to keep it up, especially with multiple characters now involved, as well as the higher-level abilities.

I would still include obvious _references_ to the game mechanics in the narrative.  Specific spells and abilities will be recognizable, and most likely named, as well.  I will still lift text directly from [smallcaps]_Dungeon_[/smallcaps] as well in white for those following along at home.

I am posing this question to all of *you*, however, my readers.  How important are the mechanics, how much do you enjoy reading them, is it worth it?  If you would still like to see them, I will continue.  If they're not that big of a deal, I will focus on the "story" portion of the story hour.  Let me know what you think, and soon I will get this SH back on track!


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## gfunk (May 15, 2006)

The mechanics were nice, but if you dropped them they would not detract from my enjoyment of this SH.  An occasional interesting roll such as a natural "1" or "20" at a particularly critical moment would be nice to see if you don't mind.


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## Richard Rawen (May 16, 2006)

jeremy_dnd said:
			
		

> Okay, here's the plan....
> I will still lift text directly from [smallcaps]_Dungeon_[/smallcaps] as well in white for those following along at home.




For those of us using the SILVER background scheme, (the black bothers my eyes for some odd reason), the use of the White for _Dungeon_ text is frustrating as we have to highlight often to make sure we do not miss something.  If you could please change that to, say, a light blue or something easily distinct, I (and likely others), would greatly appreciate it.

As to the question of mechanics, I believe that gfunk expressed my feelings very well, even the occassional mention of a natural 1/20 and such.

Thank you for taking the time to post your story, it's been fun to read and I look forward to it continuing in whatever format you post it.


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## hbarsquared (May 17, 2006)

How is the color *slategray* for my OOC comments?  And would this color, cyan, for [smallcaps]_Dungeon_[/smallcaps] text suffice?


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## Richard Rawen (May 17, 2006)

jeremy_dnd said:
			
		

> How is the color *slategray* for my OOC comments?  And would this color, cyan, for [smallcaps]_Dungeon_[/smallcaps] text suffice?




I can read that just fine.  How about you "Dark" theme readers?


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## Torack (May 17, 2006)

I can read it just fine.

And while I am a big fan of seeing the numbers, I'll third gfunks' suggestion, regarding the critical miss/hit rolls.


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## Phyrrus (May 17, 2006)

While I know that any NPCs may come from the module only, it is a shame your clockwork man can't help out in this adventure. I was a fan of him while you played him in the first version of the game on the boards and would love to see him relive in your writing here. Even if only in passing.

Looking forward to when you do resume, and for my tastes all narrative works just fine.


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## Solarious (May 19, 2006)

THe mechanics are nice, but not really neccessary. Maybe keep a character sheet on hand, keep track of powers or abilities used, miss or hit when it makes sense, and crit about once every 20 blows (or it makes for a better scene).

The scene with our wonder-falling cleric is a good example. There was a chance for her to simply die of falling damage... Interesting to see her splat over and over, but gets boring after a while.

In the meantime, this is _your_ story. Do it in whatever way you feel is most comfortable; it will make a better story for us all.


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## hbarsquared (May 19, 2006)

Hehehe.  _Splat_ goes the wonder-falling cleric.     Although it was boring, one must admit, it was kind of funny...


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## hbarsquared (May 22, 2006)

Okay, everyone, here's the plan.  For nonchallenging encounters in the story, I will simply create a narrative that reads and flows most smoothly, and include brief OOC comments that describe some of my thoughts when it comes to the mechanics.  (Whether a particular action was a bull rush, what spell might have been used, etc.)  The narrative, as well as the OOC descriptions, will not be on a round-by-round basis.

For more epic battle scenes, I will make rolls for what seem to be climactic actions, and write the narrative to follow the rolls.  Again, I will not write either the narrative or the OOC descriptions on a round-by-round basis, but I will include the rolls to any of the special actions taken.

I will keep fully updated character sheets of the protagonists in the adventure.

This will ease the amount of dice-rolling and preparation I will need to do for each scene, yet hopefully maintain the unique flavor of this story hour. 

Finally, I plan on reposting this thread.  After the loss of so much after the crash, I'm at a bit of a loss of where to pick up the story again.  Many of the first few updates will remain unchanged.  I will, however, rewrite the posts that include combat to streamline the overall style of the story hour.

That's the plan: let me know what you think.  I'll start the new thread by the end of this week.


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## Richard Rawen (May 25, 2006)

It all sounds fine to me . . . 



			
				jeremy_dnd said:
			
		

> Finally, I plan on reposting this thread.  After the loss of so much after the crash, I'm at a bit of a loss of where to pick up the story again.  Many of the first few updates will remain unchanged.  I will, however, rewrite the posts that include combat to streamline the overall style of the story hour.
> 
> That's the plan: let me know what you think.  I'll start the new thread by the end of this week.




That seems like a bit of work, but if you post, we'll read


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## Richard Rawen (Jun 8, 2006)

_psst, this is the part where _You Post... _then comes the part where _We Read! =-)


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## hbarsquared (Jun 25, 2006)

Thank you, everyone, for your interest and the nudges.  I have been revising the story hour from the beginning in order to allow myself a small posting bumper for myself.  I am up to the point where we left off, but I will only post a chumk at a time on a regular schedule.

The revised _Lonely Path_ will be further steeped in the Mesopotamian Mythos, from place names, to legendary stories.  Also, combat will be as I described previously and dungeon exploration will be glossed over somewhat.

I hope previous readers will enjoy this revised version, as well as jog their memories.  And, of course, I will be doubly pleased if new readers find it engaging, as well.  

Thank you everyone for your encouragement, and head on over to _A Lonely Path: A Shackled City Story Hour!_ (version 1.5)


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