# Ravenloft-Beyond the Mists



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Richfest, 591 CY*

_I write this journal for I know that the end is near.  Under normal circumstances I would dismiss such apocalyptic visions, but the evidence is too convincing this time.  I only hope that this journal is kept safe from the ravages of the Armageddon as it tears through the fabric of our reality.  

I have cast my most powerful enchantments upon this tome to warn the future survivors of the follies of the past.  It is all too ironic that I did not see it coming.  Every action was so well placed to evoke a precise reaction…it was like a game…and I have lost.  In any event, I have not yet warned the other members of the Circle, for fear that they might attempt something rash.  No, this time I cannot take a direct hand in events; I can only nurture hope.  My contact with Nahlar the Questioner, a powerful Planar sage, has been unsuccessful at best.  From what limited correspondence has revealed, he too notes the increase in size of the Demiplane of Dread.  Nahlar has always been an accurate source of intelligence, but recently he has been all but inaccessible.  His peers inform me that he is on a foolish quest with a benevolent demon by the name of Erandu to end the Blood Wars.  In all my years I had always believed that Nahlar was an impassive scholar, devoted only to the pursuit of knowledge.  Apparently the creature known as Erandu has been able to shatter the wall surrounding Nahlar’s better judgment and pull at the heartstrings of his heroism…I am sure that he will die foolishly with that visionary.

My powers in divination, although strong, have not been perfected.  I have lost three Oracles this month in trying to discern the truth that is hidden behind the Mists.  My efforts have been repaid in frustration and the death of three promising wizards.  It sounds irrational, but I think the Mists have their own consciousness…their own thoughts.  The Dark Powers that control them seem to tease me with bits and pieces of the puzzle without revealing their ultimate agenda.  From what the Children of Shade tell me, the Demiplane of Shadow is slowly being engulfed.  The Grandmaster of Shadows is not pleased with these developments and has sent his personal army on a crusade against the growing tide of evil.  I fear that even he will be powerless to stop it.  I have concluded that something must be done from within the Demiplane itself to have any real bearing on the future.  I have tried to contact Azalin, but all communications have failed.  The Dark Powers are content to allow me to watch, but not to intervene.  There seems to be some small contingent of hapless adventurers from a world that is foreign to me within the Demiplane itself.  All of the prophecies point to them as our one true chance at salvation…may the Gods protect them.

There is growing unrest in Flanaess.  I am receiving reports constantly from my sources all over the continent.  The reports pass across my desk faster than I can read them; although, one report was of interest to me.  Seemingly unimportant, the report spoke of a small town by the name of Oakhurst.  Normally this type of problem is not of any concern to the balance of forces in the universe.  I find it coincidental that the druid named Belak the Outcast should be responsible for this disturbance not one month into his eviction from the Order of the Thorn.  He was banished from the Order because of his dark experimentation on plant life.  Again, this event seems isolated from any form of relevancy, but I was recently informed that the speeches he gave to his disciples spoke of a “darkness rising from beyond the Veil.”  Members of the Order sent out some of their men to…dispatch the mad druid.  My reports indicated that they succeeded in destroying his plans, but failed to extinguish his flame.  They are now headed to quell an orcish uprising in the Yatil Mountains.  I fear that the Dark Powers have their tendrils in all of these events to distract us from their true objective: the Temple of Elemental Evil.  I am certain that while I am addressing all of these minor problems that the Temple is building its strength, in preparation for the impending arrival of the Demiplane of Dread.  With the resurrection of the Temple, no doubt Iuz is somehow involved.  If the Chosen fail in their attempts, we will be forced to wage war from this side of the Veil.  The Temple will assuredly be the battleground in either scenario.  I must work quickly to force events in motion in case the Chosen do fail.  We must be ready at any cost!

			-Mordenkainen, High Defender of Flanaess and Leader of the Circle of Eight_


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## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Meshtar, Jiqui (Lower Realms of Nymbardax): 7th of Blue, 987 ASG *

“This is outrageous!”

Baclian Aeureas glanced over at the fuming Xenos Taraque from over his steepled hands.  Baclian was an old man and people his age were prone to senility at around this time of their lives; however, The High Priest of Salvx and Leader of the Righteous was afforded no such leniency.  House Aeureas had been producing leaders for many centuries and Baclian was believed to be the strongest man they had ever created.  Baclian, like his father, was a fair man-hard-but fair.  The decision to remove the Captain of the Watch from his investigation was not wholly political in nature.  His candidate, Monsette Dezerai, was highly recommended from the Priests of Viminau as the most capable investigator they had.  Although the man had no real field experience, allowing a Priest of Viminau on this case would help further relations between the priesthoods and ultimately benefit the city.

“I understand your frustration Xenos,” Baclian intoned impassively.  “Let me remind you that you are not being removed from your position as lead investigator…I am simply supplying you with a partner.  Two heads are better than one.”

Whether it was the realization of who he was talking to or discipline the Knights of Justice had instilled in him, Xenos visibly calmed himself.

“High Priest Aeureas.  I do not wish to usurp your judgment; however, I must protest.  I know very well that this “partner” will now take over my position.  You will completely undermine my authority if you remove me from this investigation!”

The boy was smart…smarter than he should be.  Unfortunately, he was not cut out for politics.  Baclian felt the weight of responsibility crush him as he saw what he had to do.  _Harm him to help him; remember: this is for his own good._

“Captain are you telling me what to do?!  You shouldn’t verse anyone in matters of investigation, when you yourself know nothing of the sort!  There is a madman in our city and so far we have allowed him to run free for nearly a complete cycle of the moon!  YOU have allowed him to run free as result of your negligence!  Monsette Dezerai will be given complete cooperation by everyone under your command and accorded civility.  Am I making myself clear Captain?”

Xenos’ face blanched visibly under the castigation.

“Y-y-es High Priest Aeureas.  I understand.”

Baclian watched the most heavily decorated of Salvx’s soldiers, Xenos Taraque leave his audience room rigid as steel.  The High Priest didn’t have time enough to recover, as an older man with a silk vest and a pipe in mouth poked his head into the room shortly after.  Gathering up his resolve, Baclian put on his best face for the entering priest.

“Ah yes, Monsette Dezerai.  Please come in.”

Monsette was in his mid thirties.  As he entered the room and sat down, his back remained ramrod straight.  Monsette had a small mouth, an arched nose, a balding forehead, and small ears.  From what his report said, the Priest of Viminau had spent most of his life in the Great Library as a librarian, filling his mind with useful knowledge that would later serve him in life.

“So Monsette, why is it that I should give you this case?  Xenos is an excellent man; shouldn’t I leave it with him?”
“The right to assign this case is yours Hight Priest; however, I would like to inform you of what I have learned.  Over the past month, this case has interested me and I have been doing my own investigations on the matter in private.  I am sure that Xenos is a perfectly capable man for the job, but it appears as if the obvious has been overlooked.  First, one will note that the serial killer has moved up his/her timetable.  In the beginning the killer was content with one murder every week; however, this last week has seen a murder every night.  Judging from his psychotic profile, I believe that he/she is attempting to culminate the murders at the full moon.  Many deranged individuals believe that the full moon gives supernatural powers to those with the proper…skills.  A foolish belief, but one that will serve this investigation.  Also, all the murders committed were on clergy members.  Whether these individuals were gifted by the powers of their gods was irrelevant…they were all high-ranking city officials.  Stapling the eviscerated bodies to the wall suggest a ritualistic behavior which supports the idea that our killer has supernatural beliefs.  The fact that most of the victims were disemboweled while they were alive hints at the degree of the killer’s psychotic behavior."

Monsette took another puff from his pipe, before standing up and moving towards the High Priest’s desk.  The investigator knew exactly what he was doing as he rummaged through various maps strewn all over the bureau until he found a detailed map of the city.

“May I,” Monsette inquired as he pulled the map to the top of the pile and began drawing dots with a nearby quill.

“The murder did not strike at random.  Notice how the city was constructed in a perfect octagonal shape.  The first victim, a Priest of Majar was killed at the very northern edge of town and look over here and again over here.”

Monsette was scribbling dots all over the expensive map Baclian had received as a gift from his fellow Brothers at the Temple of Ishtar.  Baclian was not pleased with the act Monsette was delivering.

“Get to the point Monsette!”

The self-absorbed investigator jumped at the High Priests words, as if his mind had drifted for a moment.

“Yes yes, of course.  You don’t see it do you?  Let’s see if I can’t paint you a picture…”

Monsette’s hand began to draw lines from one dot to the next in exactly straight lines as the blood drained from Baclian Aeureas’ face.

“May Salvx have mercy,” the High Priest whispered.

“That’s right your Excellency, it is a pentagram…an upside-down pentagram.  And I have feeling that the full moon tomorrow will be the killer’s last target for quite sometime,” Monsette intoned as he stabbed a point on the star that did not contain a dot.

“Go get Xenos, Monsette and find this killer quickly!  I needn’t remind you that all of us are counting on you.”

Monsette bowed reverently before leaving the audience chamber.  He did not hear the High Priest Baclian Aeureas begin to murmur simple prayers of salvation as he exited.


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## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Meshtar, Jiqui (Lower Realms of Nymbardax): 8th of Blue, 987 ASG* 

Xenos Taraque hated the fact that he had been replaced, but what bothered him the most was that he was forced to take “suggestions” from a greenhorn like Dezerai.  He was certain that the aging investigator was taking great pleasure in his discomfort.  Well, he would be the last one laughing when Monsette failed in this assignment! 

“Is everything ready Sir Taraque,” Monsette asked in a detached voice as he surveyed the map draped over the table. 

“Yes Monsette, I have positioned my men as you instructed.” 

“Good.  Remember to instruct them as to the nature of this operation.  We are to remain anonymous until the killer makes his move.  None of the guards are to wear their uniforms or carry blatant weaponry.” 

“I am not fool Monsette, I heard you the first time!” 

“I am sure you did…in any event, I also require a bodyguard as I am to tour the scene myself to make sure that everything goes according to plan.” 

“I know just the man for the job.  His name is Samuel Fairheart; he is a recent acquisition for the Knights of Justice.  A brilliant swordsman, who has achieved the rank of District Sentinel at the young age of twenty.  He will accompany you on your rounds.”  _And with any luck the murder will find you as you stroll through the streets!_ 

Monsette watched the proud Xenos Taraque leave the room.  As soon as the Captain of the Watch left, Monsette began to change his clothes.  He discarded the priestly robes he was wearing in favor of his tweed pants and silk shirt.  While he began assembling his investigation tools, Monsette began to run through the plan again:  _The killer’s relative position is obvious, but he is no fool.  He knew that we would figure him out eventually, so he picked the Warehouse District to make his final kill.  I have assigned over half the city Watch to that area, but will they be enough?  I could not assign more without troubling the local populous…after all, I might be wrong…no, not this time.  I know he will strike there…I know it.  Let’s hope that this Samuel Fairheart is not as big a fool as Xenos!_ 

As Monsette was completing his preparations for this evening’s excursion, he heard a knock at the door.  Calmly, the priest finished placing all of his items in his backpack before he moved to open the door.  The young man standing on the other end of the doorway was handsome to say the least.  His bright blue eyes were full of passion and virtue; his blonde hair only pronounced his features more angelically.  There was an eagerness in his movements and a smile framing his face. 

“Good evening Monsette Dezerai, my name is Samuel Fairheart.  I was assigned to protect you on our mission tonight.” 
“Good evening Brother Fairheart.  I am sure you will do an admirable job, as I don’t have to tell you how important and dangerous tonight’s events will be.” 
“Do not fear Monsette, I have been District Sentinel for that area for almost a year now.  You are safe in my custody.” 
“I am pleased to hear it…” 

Monsette’s sentence drifted off as his gaze wondered to the washbasin on his dresser.  The light reflecting off of the water was red.  Monsette turned his attention towards the heavens directly outside his window. 

“Is something the matter sir,” Samuel inquired. 
“That’s strange…the moon is…red.” 
“An ill omen.” 
“Omen?  You aren’t a superstitious man are you Samuel?  I can’t stand ignorance.  You realize that the truth comes in many shapes and forms, its just a matter of understanding it.  I am sure this is an optical illusion brought upon by the cloud cover…nothing more.” 
“If you say so sir,” Samuel replied uncertainly.

The walk to the Warehouse District was; fortunately, boring in nature.  Twenty-five square blocks of the district had been sectioned off for various teams to patrol.  As this district was sparsely populated, it made the job of patrolling much easier, but vastly more difficult all at once.  On the one hand, it would be easier to spot suspicious activity, but on the other hand it would be difficult to note suspicious activity with all of the empty warehouses.  Monsette and Sam were not assigned to any one team; instead they were considered a “roving unit,” able to move freely in the secured perimeter.  Sam made idle conversation with Monsette during their rounds to ease some of the tension, but Monsette was not very responsive.  The investigator’s eyes were always roving…searching for anything out of the ordinary.

“Strange isn’t it,” Sam said.

Monsette was not even paying attention to what Sam was saying, but the word ‘strange’ snatched him out of his reverie immediately.

“What’s strange?” Monsette hissed.
“Just the fact that we have fog on a night like this.  Normally, this time of year, there isn’t enough moisture in the air to produce this kind of weather…strange.”

Monsette was about to respond with a patented “don’t-get-superstitious-or-I-will-give-you-a-lecture-on-truth” speech, when he saw a dark shape move through the fog.  Motioning for Sam to follow, Monsette led the pair down a deserted alleyway.  The alley stopped at a dead end, with only a rotting wooden door to furnish its dilapidated holdings.  Monsette’s keen senses were able to detect that the door’s rusted lock had been smashed and part of the door with it.  Monsette motioned for Sam to follow him as he approached the portal.

“Shouldn’t we go get help first?”
“Don’t worry about it Sam, I’m sure its nothing.  If there is a problem, then we can go get help.  No use in moving valuable men around for no reason is there?”
“Well…I suppose not, but I have this bad feeling again.”
“Sam…this bad feeling is called ‘stress’…everyone has it…even me.”

Monsette ended the pep talk with a well-timed smile.  Sam wasn’t sure what motivated Sam to follow him after that…the pep talk or duty itself.

Carefully pushing in the creaky door, Monsette made his way inside the abandoned warehouse.  Aisles and aisles of crates, stacked upon one another, created a small avenue system inside the warehouse itself.  Fog had somehow entered the structure through a hole in the wall, because there was a blanket covering the entire floor of the warehouse.  Monsette wasn’t sure how to explain this one, but the fog was the last thing to worry about right now.  Both Sam and Monsette made their way down one of the aisles slowly and deliberately.  Sam had to light a torch, because the visibility in the warehouse was so bad…the light had almost no helpful effects other than to give their position away to a possible enemy.  _Was it Monsette’s imagination, or was the fog rising higher off of the ground?  No…that’s impossible._

“Over there sir…I think I see something,” Sam said as he pointed at one of the piles of crates.  As they approached, Monsette began to make out the shape: it was human body, stapled to the crates.  Monsette had heard reports on the killings, but he had never actually witnessed it first hand.  He had to control himself in order to prevent from vomiting.  It was the same pattern.  The victim had been stapled, while living, to a hard surface and his thoracic cavity cut open with a sharp object: a dagger probably.  The trauma from the laceration had undoubtedly killed the victim.  This one was a Knight of Justice…no doubt one of the men he had sent to patrol the area.

“Do you like it,” a voice asked from the darkness.

Both men wheeled at the sound, weapons at the ready.

“My work,” the voice continued, “do you like it?”

“Who are you?  Show yourself!”
_The fog was rising!  What is going on?!_ 

A man stepped out from behind a set of crates.  He was a middle-aged unkempt human male of average disposition.  His wild red hair added to the tinge of madness in his eye, but all of these were details: what was really important was the stained butcher knife in his hand.

“Give yourself up, we have you surrounded,” Sam said mechanically.

“Fool!  The time is upon us!  The Darkness will claim you and this world, but my service will give me rewards beyond comprehension.  Even now it begins…you are doomed!  DOOMED!”

With that, the madman began to run away, towards the back of the warehouse.  Sam needed no encouragement to pursue the suspect and the fog was increasing rapidly in this place, making visibility nearly impossible.  Both Sam and Monsette ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

_That’s strange, shouldn’t we have hit the wall by now?_

Monsette didn’t have time to ponder what was happening; for, as he burst from the mist's embrace he found himself running towards a house.  Sam was a few yards in front of him, right on the tail of the suspect.  The house was really a mansion, from the construction and the elaborate designs adorning it.  It must have been old too from the look of the gothic statues and woodcarvings.  Monsette had never seen a mansion like this and he began to question why it was in the middle of a city he knew by heart.  He shook these thoughts from his mind as he saw the fleeing suspect enter the house.  Lighting ripped through the sky, followed by the sound of thunder.  Monsette barely made it inside before the torrential downpour hit.

Looking at Sam he could see the confusion in his blue eyes.  All of his fears were replaced by new ones as the door he had just entered, closed and locked itself…things were going from bad to worse.


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## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 7th, 747- "The only thing we must fear, is fear itself"*

The foyer of the enormous mansion contained a large ballroom and a winding staircase that led to an upper level balcony, which overlooked the dance floor. Hallways led off to the right, undoubtedly to more rooms. The staircase had various designs worked into the rail, the most noticeable being nymphs in revealing positions. The red carpeting that ascended the staircase seemingly blanketing the entire second floor. A chandelier of antlers provided the only source of light in this morbid house as it swung hypnotically back and forth; its meager light illuminating a small door off to the side of the staircase. 

"Where did he go so quickly?" the worry in his voice blatantly obvious. 
"Let's check the first floor and then work our way up." 

With every step, the floorboards creaked and lightning illuminated the shadows for a mere second. The experience was unnerving. Both of the holy men clutched their symbols for strength as they made their way to the first door. Monsette stood ready with his sword as Sam prepared to fling it open and shed the light of Justice upon its inhabitants. Empty. The next door; empty. They were all guestrooms that were devoid of furniture, save a dilapidated bed and nightstand. Strange...Making their way down the maze of hallways led the pair to a private garden. A flagstone trail led out of the glass double doors, meandering towards a broken fountain filled with sludge. The men looked at each other knowingly before grimly heading upstairs. 

Monsette thought he heard something when he reached the top of the stairs, but he couldn't quite make sense of it. As the pair explored the rooms on the second level, they began to note the opulence of this house's former inhabitants. A grandiose balcony overlooking the front lawn, a collection of rare books, a study filled with strange artifacts, and enough rooms to house a small army. So why is it that no one lives here? The sound became more and more audible…like breathing, as if someone was taking wheezing breathes! Sam's knuckles went white with the strain of his grip on the rapier he was carrying. 

"Let's get downstairs Sam, I have had enough of this." 

Sam didn't even bother to respond as he hurried to plow a path down the stairs, towards the door. The locked door had no effect on the Knight of Justice as he barreled himself into it and bounced off with equal force. Rubbing his shoulder as he got up, Sam suggested trying to hack their way out. Monsette couldn't think of a better idea, so they got to it. As the steel tasted the ancient oak doorway, it drew blood..black blood. This only made the pair hack faster. With every stroke, more blood seeped from the doorway and pooled at the feet of the men. So busy were Sam and Monsette that they did not notice the puddle of blood conglomerate and shoot forth a tendril. Sam barely managed to twist to the side as a stream of black liquid burnt its way through his armor and skin. In a scream of rage Sam thrust his rapier into the puddle of black ooze and watched the steel of his blade hiss.  Monsette brought his sword down upon the creature with similar results before attempting a new plan.

"Sam, keep it busy!"

Backing up a distance, Monsette began to light a torch as his friend battled the amorphous abomination.  Sam was in desperate need of help by the time Monsette was ready to carry out his plan.

"Sam, stand back!"

In one deft movement, Monsette hurled a flask of oil and the lit torch at the creature.  Both men watched as the flask exploded on contact, showering the abomination with oil before the torch ignited the fluid.  The energy emitted from the reaction was enough to throw both men to the ground and catch Monsette's cloak on fire.  With some help from Sam, that problem was quickly extinguished.

"You can't escape.  She won't let you!" 

Monsette and Sam new that voice all too well.  Turning around slowly, they saw their suspect out on the middle of the dance floor.  Monsette would have been tempted to view this as irony...if he was a violent man.

"What are you talking about," Sam demanded impatiently.
"You are doomed...DOOMED!"

Keeping a level head, Monsette responded: "You said that before.  Why don't you make this easy on yourself and give up?"

The angry Knight of Justice was on the verge of rushing the madman when the lights from the chandelier simply vanished, blanketing the room in darkness.  Monsette thought he heard a strange gurgling sound just before the lights came on again.  The room was empty again; the killer nowhere in sight.

"Where did he go," Sam asked anxiously.

Monsette was about to give a encouraging answer when he noticed something on the far wall...something was leaking out of the stone.  The investigator approached, unable to contain his curiosity.  Upon closer inspection, Monsette realized it was blood...blood was dripping from the wall!  The priest tried to back away, but the dripping turned into a spray of blood that engulfed him and the rest of the dance floor.  Slipping and sliding in panic, Monsette managed to get up with help from a very frightened Sam.  They were making their way off of the polished wooden floor, when Monsette noticed that the blood began to move.  Tendrils were snaking their way back and forth across the floor and then stopping at fixed position...they were spelling something!  The blood was spelling something!

_"Y..O..U......A..R..E......D..E..A..D" _

Monsette had never cursed in all his years of life.  It was simply uncivilized to curse; something that barbarians would do when they couldn't find the proper words to describe their feelings.  Ignorance was no excuse for bad language after all.  Given time, the right word could be found...that rule was quickly suspended.

"Sam let's get the f**k out of here NOW!"

Sam needed no encouragement to yank the poor investigator off of his feet and drag him towards the staircase.  As they began to ascend, the floor began to crack upwards under the force of some unseen pressure beneath the house.  Where the fissures occurred, pale green light would pour from the wound like puss.  The breaking floor and green light only lent Sam strength as he began to run up the stairs with Monsette right behind him.  Both men made their way towards a window they saw on the second floor that spilled onto a balcony overlooking the front yard.  The screams they heard coming from down the stairs were not human...could not be human.  It was the scream of pain; pain that had been festering for centuries.  Monsette put his hands to his ears as he ran, attempting to block out the distraction.  Sam simply barreled into the glass doors and bounced off again, like he did on the door.

"Not again," Sam shouted in frustration.  "Quick Monsette, help me!  Monsette, this is no time..."

Sam's voice trailed off as he saw what Monsette was staring at.  A black humanoid mist was hovering near the top of the staircase, simply staring at Monsette.  Its face was nothing more than an ebony skull lit from within by a malevolent reddish light.  Sam pushed the catatonic priest of Viminau aside and boldly challenged the specter with his silver holy symbol.  The creature's response was not pleasant: it reared back and flung its face forward...this had interesting consequences.  As the creature's face approached Sam's it became more corporeal and more demonic in nature, while it screamed unearthly tones.  Sam's holy symbol, a silver cross, melted all over his hand, searing his flesh where the metal came into contact with him and causing him to cry out in pain.  Sam's screaming snapped Monsette out of his dazed state, allowing him to hurl his sword at the glass doors directly behind them before the specter was upon them.  As the glass shattered, Monsette flung Sam through the opening and pushed him right over the side of the balcony.  The investigator wasn't sure if it was him grunting or if it was Sam as the earth came rushing up to meet him...it didn't matter.  In a matter of moments, the two men were up and running towards the fog encircling the house.  Monsette ran and ran until he felt his lungs were on fire.  Panting, the older man asked for the younger Sam to stop.

"I...can't...run...anymore.  Let's...stay...here for a...while."

Sam was still wild eyed from the experience and eager to continue running, but he settled down next to Monsette after a few moments of unrest.  There the two sat, in the middle of the fog, for quite sometime.  Monsette didn't know how many hours or days had past, but eventually the fog cleared and the two found themselves in a thick pine forest.  It was close to the edge, because Monsette could see the break in the tree line through the branches of the trees.  Sam was helping Monsette to his feet when he heard a snap off to their left.  Monsette nearly fell to the ground as Sam wheeled towards the sound and brandished his blade.  Not more than fifty feet away from them were two figures.  One was a frail man with ragged blue robes and the other was a mountain of muscle, adorned with every weapon conceivable.

"Identify yourselves," Sam yelled defiantly.

As the strange group neared, the man's face seemed to brighten at Sam's threat.

"Thank goodness!  We are back in Nymbardax!  The nightmare is finally over Shinlaiden, we are free."

Monsette collected his thoughts as he stood up and brushed the foliage from this clothes.

"I don't know where you think you are sir, but we are a long way from home."


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## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 7th, 747- "Bars do not a prison make."*

Whatever happiness the frail man was holding onto, evaporated under the truth of Monsette’s harsh observations. After some discussion, both groups began to glean information from one another. The frail man and his burly companion were apparently from the world of Nymbardax too, but not the same continent. Vanyel, as he called himself, was a linguist who worked for the True Way and Shinlaiden was his bodyguard. Monsette remembered hearing something about the True Way during his time at the Great Library. From what rumor told him, the True Way was a powerful society of mages that controlled all the lands to the east of Sordania and Nordmar. They were a powerful association, not to be taken lightly. Vanyel was an extremely pale individual, whose raven-colored hair was in sharp contrast to his skin. His blue robes were tattered, but the symbol of the True Way could still be made out. What Vanyel lacked in physical strength, Shinlaiden more than made up for in stature and attitude. The muscular man was over six feet tall and had a mace, battle axe, heavy flail, and daggers strapped to various parts of his leather armor. Both men relayed the story that had brought them here. From what they divulged, the two agents of the True Way were sent to collect taxes from a rebellious town in the remote regions of their lands. A strange fog settled over the town and somehow they ended up in a strange town named Odiare. The locals spoke a strange dialect of Nymbardaxian common, but that wasn’t the real problem. The town was without adults of any kind and at night the dolls of the children came alive and attacked them. A very specific wooden puppet named Maligno seemed to have it out for them, because they barely escaped with their lives from Odiare. Running back into the Mists brought them here: the damp, cold, decidious forest out in the middle of God-knows-where.

Monsette considered all of the facts that he had heard and furnished personally before making a decision. He suggested that they exit the forest and find signs of civilization. This idea went over well with everyone and turned out to be one of his better suggestions as the party spotted a large village near a huge river just outside the forest. The sparsely populated civilization, seemingly, had only residential houses, but after a while the party spotted a dilapidated structure that resembled the local tavern. The villagers eyed the party with suspicion and fear as they made their way to shelter. Securing rooms was more tedious than Monsette found necessary as he found himself up against a language barrier even his knowledge couldn’t shatter. Eventually communication degenerated into Monsette pointing to a gold piece and then pointing to a room down the hallway. The fat, greedy innkeeper took the coin and handed Monsette a key, after which Vanyel repeated the same procedure. Vanyel and Shinlaiden slept in one room, while Sam and Monsette slept in another. Both groups agreed that the "buddy system" was the more prudent direction at this point. Needless to say that everyone was tired from his personal ordeals from the past few hours. In fact everyone had drifted off to sleep just after locking the door, when their was a loud pounding on Sam and Monsette’s door. Sam was about to check it out when three angry-looking men forcibly kicked it in. One was a large, gruff individual who belonged in the forest not the village. The second was a lithe warrior with the look of absolute hatred in his eye, while the final man seemed the more tempered of the lot. He was an older man with a rotund disposition. The younger men pounced on the dumbfounded Sam, while the older man tied his hands behind his back. The perturbed Monsette was reaching for his sword when he saw the older man’s hand go up in a sign of peace. He began to speak, but Monsette couldn’t understand the stream of words coming out of his mouth, so he went and got someone who seemed to know languages very well: Vanyel. The frail linguist was able to make out a few words from the angered men. Evidently, Sam had been accused of the murder of two of the town’s citizens! As the local official and his two men hauled Sam off to the local jail, Monsette began to run facts through his head in order to awaken his mind. This was going to be a long night…

*___________________
October 8th 747*

The sun was coming up and Monsette felt exhausted. All night, both he and Vanyel had been talking to the pot-bellied official named Yaco about the particulars of this case and they hadn’t found out very much. Sam was accused of killing two-now missing-village residents: a man and his wife. Alehandra and Ussi have been missing for several days now and a man fitting Sam’s description was the only stranger in the village around that time. Monsette was angry at this circumstantial justice system, but as an investigator he had to respect fact, not emotion. In order for him to exonerate Sam, he would have to prove that Sam wasn’t in this village during the murders…which meant, he would have to find the bodies and interview the witnesses. Yaco was the town official that dispensed justice and his two "deputies" were Dimitri and Yanis. Dimitri was the younger, hawk-nosed man filled with rage. Yanis was the large, gruff-looking hunter. The village they were in was called Valetta and the country was called Invidia. This village earned its income from logging and Ussi was one of the better loggers of the town. Monsette was getting a serious headache from all of this.

_It doesn’t make any sense. Sam couldn’t been the one, because he was on Nymbardax just a few hours ago…wasn’t he? There is too much coincidence! A man looking exactly like Sam walks into town, trades some jewelry for a few pelts, and then leaves. This town doesn’t see many visitors, so this man who looks like Sam is a big deal. The woman who he traded with is a seamstress named Celine and apparently the blonde man who looked like Sam didn’t say a word to anyone…strange. What makes matters worse is the fact that everyone loves this married couple. Alehandra was a very gorgeous petite woman who dropped off freshly baked bread to the guards on duty. Ussi was a stunningly handsome man who was best friends with Dimitri…that didn’t help this situation. Yaco has been searching for the bodies for the last two days and so far he has turned up nothing. He seems to be a very well educated villager…something about studying at the capitol of Invidia: Karina. I don’t think that he will try to abuse his position to harm Sam in any way, which is good for us. Vanyel has to be the translator in all of this because I am not making any headway on the language; maybe I will get the hang of it as time goes on. This place is not filled with monsters and there doesn’t seem to be inter-villager hatreds. The puzzle is missing some pieces…I don’t get it. We must return to the scene of the crime to get any answers…we should go to Alehandra’s and Ussi’s house._

After getting an exhausted Vanyel to get direction to the missing couple’s house, Monsette began stuffing tobacco into his pipe in preparation for his eventual smoke. Yaco was kind enough to lend him some, as he had used all of his up the night before. It wasn’t very good quality, but it would have to do for his purposes.

The couple’s house wasn’t very impressive from the outside. Built entirely out of wood, the structure only contained three rooms: a living room and two bedrooms. A window in the living room allowed light to spill into the main chamber from the street, while a smaller one illuminated the master bedroom. The living room was fairly meager in furnishings. It had a simple chimney with a cauldron, a dining table, and a cabinet filled with a few dishes and mugs. There was a small brown rug underneath the round wooden table, but overall the house seemed very clean. The master bedroom contained two dressers and a cozy bed. Everything seemed to have its proper place, even the dolls were well groomed. Vanyel and Shinlaiden blanched visibly at the dolls. Monsette was snooping around the bedroom when he heard a large crash from the adjacent room. Running outside, he saw Shinlaiden standing over a broken dish.

"What did you do?!"
"Sorry Monsette, I was just looking at it and it just slipped."
"You fool! The first rule of investigation is to NEVER disrupt the environment you find!"
"Sorry Monsette, let me just sweep it up…"
"No, NO, NO! Just get out. LEAVE!"

The dejected-looking behemoth took one more look at the damage he caused and left the house. Monsette was still a mass of quivering rage after Shinlaiden had left. It took all of Vanyel’s skill to calm him down to a rational state.

“That fool,” Monsette cursed as he kicked the cabinet, rattling the dishes in the process.
“Calm down Monsette, he’s gone now…no use getting worked up about this.”
“That monstrosity probably broke an important clue that we will never know about!  With our luck it may have been able to save Sam!  Damn it,” Monsette yelled as he laid into the immobile cabinet some more with his foot.
“In fairness, you are creating worse havoc now than he ever did,” Vanyel responded calmly.

Vanyel’s last few words made an impression on Monsette as he began to realize what he was doing.  Smoothing out his robes, the investigator began to try and rectify the damage he had induced.  It was then that he noticed something behind the cabinet…it was black.  Asking for Vanyel’s meager assistance, the two began to move the cabinet with their limited brute strength.  Both Vanyel and Monsette were wishing that Shinlaiden were there to help them as they shifted the cabinet.  Monsette began noticing many things as he worked that he hadn’t noticed before.  In addition to the new scratches being created, Monsette saw old ones near the cabinet.  He also noticed a fine white powder just underneath the cabinet and a square drawn with black paint…not paint, but tar!  As the investigator approached, he already noted the smell of newly applied tar; it must have only been a few days old.  Using his knife to cut the tar, Monsette began to loosen a makeshift trapdoor in the floor of the house.  He cut away three sides, so that the last side would simply swing downwards.  As he was cutting, he began to notice the smell of decay.  By the time he had cut away the square trapdoor, the smell had become overpowering.  Monsette turned away from the origin of the stench and emptied his stomach onto the floor; Vanyel wasn’t far behind him when it happened.  Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand Monsette asked Vanyel for a lamp so that he would see better the hollowed out area directly underneath the trapdoor.  With a bit of disgust, Vanyel complied with the request after which he began to mop up his boots.  Monsette tied a handkerchief to his face before shining the light into the small burrow.  As the light touched the earth, Monsette recognized the decaying face of young woman and the unrecognizable body of a man.  The woman face had been twisted to the back of her head.  The man’s body did not have a head of any kind; the tearing marks indicated that it had been ripped right off the torso.  Its only identification was a hairy hand adorned with a simple golden band inscribed with some writing Monsette couldn’t make out.  No other markings were visible on the bodies, which lent some credence to the fact that both died from their respective neck injuries.  The white powder was obviously lime, something used to suppress the reek caused by the decaying bodies.  Monsette pulled the handkerchief off of his face and turned around to face the waiting Vanyel.

“I think I have an idea where Ussi and Alehandra went.”


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 8th, 747- “When the scabbards are broken, we can no longer hide our swords.”*

Getting up off of the floor, Monsette lit his pipe to try and erase the smell of death from the room.  While he inhaled the rich taste of the tobacco, Vanyel was busy wedging a piece of charcoal underneath the front door.

“What are you doing,” asked a puzzled Monsette.
“I am trying to make sure that we will know if someone disturbs this place after we leave.”
“Clever,” a hint of admiration escaping the investigator’s lips.

The two began to place the cabinet back to its original position once Monsette had thoroughly saturated the air with smoke from this pipe.

“Now what, Vanyel inquired.
“Now, we go and find out what everyone really knows.”

The streets of Valetta were mostly deserted by the time the pair had finished cleaning up the house.  The sun was becoming a sliver on the horizon as Monsette and Vanyel weaved their way through the streets of the logging town.  Their destination was clear: Celine’s house; the only problem was remembering the directions Yaco had given them this morning.  After a few wrong houses, a woman with Celine’s description opened the door of a familiar-looking house.  Celine was a haggard, pale, and nervous woman.  It was difficult to even get her to crack the door open more than a splinter; it was nearly impossible to get her to let anyone into her home.  Vanyel’s appearance seemed to frighten her somehow, so Monsette had to be increasingly nice to Celine in order for them to get anywhere with her.  The problem was that Vanyel had the mastery of the language and Monsette did not, so the priest of Viminau had to constantly ask his companion for words to direct the conversation.  Eventually, the distrustful woman succumbed to Monsette’s calming aura and agreed to let them in.  Simply because she took a liking to Monsette did not mean that she would do so with Vanyel.  After everyone was sitting, she only spoke to Monsette, completely avoiding Vanyel’s existence with her senses.  This seemed to have little effect on either man.  During the conversation with Monsette, Celine talked about her business venture with the “blonde man,” as she described him.  According to her testimony, she admitted to trading to a man who looked like Sam for some jewelry.  The “blonde man” did not speak to anyone, but it was easy to trade with him through gestures.  _Well now we can’t distinguish him from the real Sam, because he didn’t speak a word!  This is going to be harder than I expected._  Thanking Celine profusely for her time, Vanyel and Monsette left on good terms.

Making their way back to the jail, both men were attempting to make sense of things…Monsette seemed to have the most trouble with the facts as they had been presented.  Deciding to hide their discoveries from everyone, Monsette and Vanyel made a quick pact before entering the village’s jail.  Shinlaiden wasn’t there, but both Sam and Yaco were fast asleep.  From the sounds Yaco was making through his nose, it didn’t seem like sleep was helping him whatsoever.  Vanyel gently awoke Yaco, while Monsette did the same with Sam.  While Monsette explained everything to Sam in their native tongue, Vanyel questioned Yaco about the whereabouts of Shinlaiden.  Yaco wasn’t very forthcoming with details, as he said he had no idea.  This troubled everyone, especially Vanyel.  Mosette suggested making some more rounds to see what everyone knew…Vanyel quickly agreed with the suggestion.

The information that Monsette and Vanyel were able to obtain was disappointing at best.  Asking the various guards on duty only brought about more questions.  No one saw Shinlaiden leave and no one believed that Sam was innocent.  Questioning Dimitri was worse than talking with Celine.  Where Celine was frigid, Dimitri was aflame.  If he wasn’t such an honest man, Monsette was sure that he would have attacked him on sight for trying to defend “the murderer.”  _Although he hates us, I know that he wouldn’t try something petty to exact vengeance.  He is an emotional man, but at least he has a strong sense of duty…too bad his righteous anger is focused on us.  This place becomes stranger by the minute.  First we lose Sam and then in trying to save him, we lose Shinlaiden.  No one saw anything and no one knows anything!  This is becoming frustrating to say the least!  I have to go back to the scene of the crime to figure this all out…there are pieces missing to this puzzle that must be discovered quickly, for Samuel’s time is running out._

Darkness had crept up on the daylight and had almost achieved victory while Monsette was pondering the day’s events.  The streets were simply deserted, where they were just a few minutes ago they saw some activity.  Both men checked the inside of the house with a lantern before entering…it appeared as if no one had disturbed the house.  As soon as Monsette entered, he lit his pipe and began pacing around the room.  Vanyel was content to sit down and watch the eccentric priest walk about the house in deep contemplation.  The stench from the dead bodies was beginning to rise from the hole in the floor, making Monsette’s pondering a bit more difficult.  _Why doesn’t it make sense?  Two dead bodies and no one found them by now?  I know, I’m good, but I find it difficult to believe that neither Yaco nor Dimitri would have found them by now.  Something isn’t right.  Something is bothering me about those bodies, but what is it?  The ring…it’s too…it’s too…extravagant!  Why doesn’t Alehandra have an identical ring on her hand?  Ussi is a logger by trade and Alehandra seems to be a fairly good baker; how could they afford a ring made of gold and why buy just one?  Maybe the other is missing, but why would the murder simply take one of the gold rings?  It doesn’t fit._

Monsette was tapping his pipe on his lower lip when he heard a scream from Vanyel.

“What is it,” Monsette asked frantically.
“Sorry Monsette, its just Yaco.  I didn’t see him in the window, so he gave me a scare.”

Monsette’s respect for Vanyel shriveled visibility in his eyes as he went to go open the door for Yaco.  The rotund official was explaining that he just ordered everyone to keep a lookout for Shinlaiden when Monsette’s attention drifted to Yaco’s left hand.  He hadn’t noticed it before but Yaco was a rather hairy man; the back of his hand was covered with hair.  Monsette also remembered something about Yaco being married, but the strange thing was that thus far he had heard nothing about his wife.  _His wedding band is familiar, where have I seen that bef…Viminau have mercy!_  Suddenly the trap in Monsette’s mind sprung shut and all of the pieces of the puzzle fit together in perfect harmony.  Monsette was so taken aback by his realization that he couldn’t hide it from Yaco.  The local official’s pleasant attitude melted as he sniffed the air to the house.  Monsette watched as Yaco’s face underwent a horrible transformation; the evil smile that split his face was too large…not meant to be displayed by mortal men.

Monsette began backing up while whispering, “What are you?”  Barely controlling his horror, the investigator screamed for Vanyel to run while he attempted to draw his sword from its scabbard.  Faster than Monsette’s eyes could register, Yaco’s arm shot out and grabbed the investigator’s wrist in a viselike grip.  As he struggled against Yaco’s inhuman strength, Monsette noticed Vanyel’s cowering form in the corner of the room.  He attempted to yell out to his companion again, but his phrase was incomplete as he was launched the other side of the room with a simple push from Yaco.  Monsette’s breath left his body as he slammed against the cabinet and dropped to the floor.  The cabinet rocked back and forth before falling over onto the scrambling priest of Viminau.  Whatever stupor Vanyel was in was gone when he saw the large wooden cabinet crush his comrade’s leg.  Yaco watched calmly as the linguist hurled himself through the small window and into the street.  Confidently, the man began to walk after Vanyel as if he had all the time in the world.  Monsette, in a burst of adrenaline, managed to shove the cabinet off of himself and run out the door.  Upon exiting, he saw Vanyel lying prone on the street with Yaco on top of him.  Yaco was pulling his head back and slamming it into the ground over and over again.  Monsette didn’t know if Vanyel was dead or not, but he charged anyway!  Drawing his sword back, he plunged it into Yaco’s form.  The creature let out an unearthly scream as it turned to face the, now ready, Monsette.  As “Yaco” stood up, Monsette noticed grey blood oozing from the wound he had just dealt.  With another scream to his God, Monsette attempted to strike the creature again; this time with limited success.  The creature fluidly moved inside the reach of the sword and brought its fist into contact with Monsette’s face with violent fury.  The force of the punch was enough to twist Monsette’s body in midair and send him flying back into the wall.  Though disoriented, he could make out the pleas of help Vanyel was shouting at the end of the alleyway.  He was about to get up when he heard the air rush by his left ear, followed by the sound of splintering wood.  In a feeble attempt, Monsette swung out with his sword once again only to be disarmed by “Yaco’s” tremendous strength.  Monsette felt his hands wrap around his thoat and begin to choke him.  Desperation took hold of him as he tried to pry the hands from his neck, but it was a futile attempt…his vision blurred and saw the end coming.  Monsette wasn’t sure how long he had left, but abruptly the hands that were choking him let go.  Looking up, he saw Dimitri and Yanus locked in a deadly battle with Yaco.  The odds were against the two men as they tried vainly to hurt the creature.  Vanyel tried to equalize the opposition by tripping Yaco…it did not have the desired effect.  By directly intervening in the battle, Vanyel had made his presence known to Yaco…it did not like Vanyel whatsoever.  Slamming the wind out of Yanus and backhanding Dimitri into the wall brought the proud force of resistance down to one screaming man: Vanyel.  The linguist tried to run, but Yaco was faster than lightning.  One second he was a good fifty paces from his victim and the next he had kicked Vanyel in the back, toppling him to the ground.  Monsette knew that he would not ‘play’ with Vanyel any longer.  One more shot from this thing would send his companion to the grave.  Summoning the power of Viminau, Monsette drew the power of the One Truth inside him and demanded that the creature cease his attacks.  The fist destined to explode Vanyel’s head stopped a fraction of an inch above its target.  There the fist hovered, as “Yaco” strained against the forces holding him in place.  Monsette turned to pick up his sword and finish what he had started, but when his gaze swept over the area where “Yaco” had just been, he only saw Celine.  What is she doing here now?  Ignoring the frightened woman, Monsette proceeded to heal his dying companions.  Both Yanus and Dimitri had massive internal bleeding; Vanyel seemed to be in the best shape of all the injured.

Telling Vanyel to guard Yanus and Dimitri, Monsette rushed off to the jail cell to save Sam from harm.  As it turned out, the creature did not stop by before leaving because Sam seemed just fine inside his prison.  _Wait…what if it has already killed Sam and taken his place?  I should test him._

“What’s your name,” Monsette asked soberly.
“What are you talking about Monsette?”
“Answer me!”
“Samuel Fairheart.”
“How do I know it’s you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Prove to me that it’s you.”
“You know, sometimes, you act like a complete freak!…sir.”

Monsette smiled while he opened the door to Sam’s prison cell.  The two made their way back to the scene of devastation and dragged the injured into the nearby stench-ridden house.  There the small band of men healed themselves and tried to make sense of the madness.  There was a long discussion on what that “thing” was and why it was in Valetta, but nothing fruitful came of the conversation.  Once everyone was well enough to travel, the small contingent of men made their way over to Celine’s house to make sure she wasn’t dead.  Celine did answer the door; rather someone who looked like her.  Dimitri immediately began a barrage of questions intended to put her on guard.  It worked…in a sense.  The woman was highly defensive, but she still managed to answer them all correctly.

Frustrated, the band went back to the jail to regroup and reinforce their position.  There, they took rotating shifts to ensure that the creature would not get the jump on them again.  Monsette looked each one of the men in the eye before he dozed off and spoke with deathlike solemnity:

“That thing could be out there…attack anyone who comes through that door!”


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 9th, 747- "Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways" (Stephen Vincent Benet).*

_Monsette was running. Someone was chasing him or he was desperately seeking someone. It was all very confusing, but the sense of urgency was there. He felt it in the deepest recesses of his soul. A light appeared in the distance...he ran towards it. Something was stapled to the wall...a man. His organs were spewing from his abdomen and blood was splattered everywhere. Where was his face? Monsette couldn't see his face! Reaching out with his hand to touch the man, he saw that it was he who was stapled to the wall. But why was he looking at himself. Monsette ran his hand through his hair to try and calm himself...he felt something warm touch his scalp. Looking at his hand, he saw ooze...gray ooze!_

Monsette awoke with a start. He could already feel the damp clothing on his skin, where the sweat from his body had soaked through the material. The sun was already up and Sam, the only one not asleep. Going about his daily routine, Monsette began awaking the other members of the band once he had completed his prayers to Viminau. He would have preferred to sit on a chair but it seemed as though Sam had the only one. _I could have sworn that there was another one...well no matter._ Once Vanyel was up, the linguist seemed to meditate for a bit as well. Dimitri and Yanus were not talkative, as the events from the previous night had left them in a somber mood. After Vanyel had completed his meditations, he proceeded to weave some form of power over the entire group. Monsette recognized the spell as a Zone of Truth, capable of forcing the truth from a liar's mouth. Monsette, picking up on Vanyel's idea, asked a series of direct questions to ensure that everyone was who they seemed to be...everyone checked out. The group then decided to simultaneously inform the village as to what was going on and find their missing companion Shinlaiden. Yanus volunteered to track down their missing friend, while Dimitri informed the village of recent events. Monsette; however, did not want to leave until he had personally informed Alehandra's mother of her daughter's death. No one seemed opposed to the idea, because only Monsette knew the true reason behind the seemingly kindly act: gathering information.

Alehandra's mother was not difficult to find, as she was one of the more conspicuous members of Valetta these days. Monsette wanted her to feel comfortable, so he met with the kindly old lady at her place of residence to conduct the discussion. The old woman proved to be very resilient to the definitive news that Alehandra's body had been found. She did cry a little, but not enough to impede Monsette's questioning process.

"I am sorry to be the bearer of such bad news Mrs. Venustas. Please accept my condolences," Monsette said comfortingly.
"It's alright," the old lady replied, "I knew my Alehandra was gone even before you told me."
"This is a terrible time for you; I know, but I need to ask you a few questions. Could you tell me of any strange events that happened to your daughter...anything at all?"
"This is the fault of the Vistani, I am sure of it! The full moon gives the night evil powers...the full moon is when all the bad things started happening. You see, Alehandra was a special girl, so beautiful, so young. She was always afraid of the full moon. I remember once, when she slept with me because she was so scared. Holding her close that night, I had the strangest dreams..."

The old mother couldn't contain herself anymore, as she began sobbing uncontrollably. Monsette was about to inject another question between the gasps for breath, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Turning around, Monsette saw Vanyel shaking his head in adamant protest. Cursing under his breath about the lack of professionalism, Monsette offered his condolences once again before taking his leave.

Once outside, Vanyel, Monsette, Sam, and Yanus made their way through the gathering crowd towards the edge of the village. There, Yanus studied the ground for what seemed like hours before deciding on a direction: north, towards the woods. The trail was slow going, as Yanus stopped every so often to check the ground for tracks of any kind. He said that it was a bit more difficult to track, because the tracks were not fresh and it hadn't rained in quite some time. Once the trail entered the forest, Yanus seemed to slow to a crawl. _This will take forever, but at least we are getting somewhere. I don't think these woods are Darkseed or we would probably be dead by now. No, this place is nowhere I have ever read about. The temperate climate suggests Nordmar or even the north of Jiqui, but that can't be right. I have a feeling we are not even on Nymbardax anymore. Maybe we are, but at an earlier period. The language these people speak is ancient in its origin, but seems to have developed differently. Did we go back in time? Another world? Another plane? If so, it would have to be an Outer Plane...I won't think about that for now. Maybe I should ask around for the local faiths to determine whether their lingual and religious roots are completely dissimilar to ours._

Monsette's was torn away from his pondering at the call of Yanus up ahead. The hunter seemed to have found a secluded clearing at the crest of a small hill. Many tracks visibly crossed the area multiple times, to and from the extinguished campfire at the center. Poking around the area revealed that there were three sets of footprints. The first were obviously Shinlaiden's and the second were of a smaller man carrying a large amount of weight (Yaco). The third set of tracks remained a mystery to everyone, including Yanus. While everyone was discussing the tracks, Vanyel spotted a small metal box in the fire pit at the center of the clearing. The box was crafted of dark metal, with a seven-pointed green star as its only markings. Monsette suggested to smash it open until Vanyel produced a key with an identical seven-pointed star engraved upon it. It was unsurprising to find that the key fit perfectly into the box's lock and produced a clicking sound when it turned. As Vanyel opened the box, Monsette peered questioningly at him.

"Where did you find that key?"
"When you ran off to the jail after the fight with 'Yaco' I noticed that the creature had dropped this key."
"And you never bothered to tell me?"
"I had simply forgotten until now."

As the lid of the box drew back, the light of the sun revealed a crumpled parchment inside. The text was a flowing script that seemed to have many errors in it, as almost every letter had been struck through with a line.

"It's in that foreign language," Monsette cursed.
"Don't worry Monsette, I have been studying this type of thing for many years, it shouldn't take long to decipher it."
"I hope not," Monsette muttered.

Vanyel's eyes washed over the page many times before he read the parchment aloud in grave tones.

*
X Alehandra Venustas: Valleta, Invidia
Gunter Edel: Vallaki, Barovia
X Ian McGregor: Immol, Barovia
Alex LePur: Pont-a-Museau, Richemulot
X Adolf Heinrich: Ludendorf, Lamordia
X Nathan Corvus: Corvia, Darkon
X Jean Du Leur: Pont-a-Lucine, Dementlieu
*
"Comb the area everyone, let's find Shinlaiden first and then worry about this later."

Once Yanus was informed of the plan, everyone split up to find any trace of Vanyel's imposing companion. After many hours of searching, not one person was able to find any leads on Shinlaiden's whereabouts...not even Yanus. Frustrated, the group made their way back to the small village of Valetta to contemplate their next move. Monsette had Vanyel explain everything they knew to Yanus, so that he could tell Dimitri. While the conversation was taking place, Monsette took the opportunity to ransack the jailhouse for any important clues pertaining to the reasons a shapeshifter would kill a beautiful woman and try to hide her body underneath her very own house. Whether it was Viminau's sense of humor or simply bad luck, no such answer emerged from Monsette's long search. All that he was able to turn up was mediocre drawing of Alehandra in one of the desk drawers.

"Well, I'm out of ideas," Monsette said exasperatedly.
"I think this...thing...is an assassin," Vanyel said softly.
"I gathered as much from the list and the dead body," Monsette replied sarcastically. "What we should try to figure out is WHY it is killing these people."
"Does it really matter," Sam interrupted. "We should be more concerned with finding him than why he is doing these terrible things."
"If we can find his motives Sam, then we will be one step ahead of him."
"His motives are plain Monsette: kill everyone on the list. We have to find the rest of the people and warn them...period."
"Yes, yes...of course," Monsette replied half-heartedly. "Although, I would like to ask Alehandra's mother some more questions."
"I would have to disagree on this Monsette. The woman has suffered enough and you will get no useful information from her now. I can not condone this recourse."
"I agree with Sam," Vanyel intoned.
"Very well then. I suggest that we get an early night's sleep and travel to warn these people first thing in the morning. Agreed?"

The nod from both Sam and Vanyel was enough to end the discussion and put everyone in bed...on a rotating watch, of course.

Monsette was just about to drift into a deep sleep when his consciousness was stirred by the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It was a violin, but played with exquisite skill and filled with the power of emotion. Normally, he would just write something like this off, but he noticed that Sam and Vanyel were up as well.

"Well...let's go see what it is," Monsette said with an air of resignation in his voice.

Gearing up, the group headed towards the eastern edge of the village. The guards on duty were transfixed on the sound and almost didn't notice the party until it was on top of them. They made no attempt to hinder the three men as they strode by, towards the source of the beautiful sound. As they approached, Sam was able to spot a small fire in the distance and two shapes huddled around it. The tone of the music became more and more heartrending as party closed the distance between themselves and the fire, until it almost became unbearable. Then, quite suddenly, it ceased altogether. Details became more readily apparent. The first shape was that of a heavy-set man and the second was unmistakably that of Shinlaiden! The man next to Shinlaiden had bloodshot eyes, olive skin, and dark hair. He was definitely in his prime, contrasting his white mustache. Shinlaiden was in bad shape. His upper lip was swollen, blood was all over his tattered clothing, he had scratches on most parts of his body, and he had no equipment whatsoever. The wagon behind the strange man and Shinlaiden wasn't obvious at first, but as the party approached the fire they could make out strange writing on the side and a small iron crib against it. Vanyel immediately rushed over to heal the battered Shinlaiden, while Monsette confronted the strange man playing the violin.

"May I help you with something," the man asked calmly.
"Thank you for aiding our friend kind stranger."

The cheerless man was on the verge of answering when his attention was shifted by the sounds of an infants cries. The screams came from the iron cage by the wagon. Somberly, the man got up and walked over the crib. While he was away, tending to the child, Monsette began grilling the recovering Shinlaiden for answers. The burly man was just as confused as the rest of the party. After he had left the group, he passed out on the street and woke up in the forest, tied and gagged. Somehow he managed to escape the bonds and tried to make his way back to the village. The only problem was that a humanoid catlike creature ambushed him and it would have killed him if not for the intervention of a gorgeous woman. All of these details were not fitting together for anyone; Monsette included. He was about to ask more detailed questions, when Vanyel simply got up and ran towards the man holding the infant. Sam, sensing a problem, was not far behind the frail linguist. Cursing, Monsette got up and stormed over to see what the commotion was about. Vanyel was already using his remaining energy on the infant. As Monsette approached, he could already see how malnurished the infant was. Adding his own healing to the baby boy radically improved its health.

"Thank you," said the olive-skinned man.
"It was nothing, replied Vanyel. "Shouldn't your wife be tending to such matters?"

The man's demeanor visibly darkened.

"My wife is dead. She died recently from a fever."
"I am sorry," Vanyel said.
"Why don't you just go into the village and get a midwife," Monsette asked.
"No one will help the Vistani," the man said.
"In any case, we can't just go around tactly avoiding your name. What would you like us to call you," Monsette intoned pleasantly.
"My name is Raul."
"Well that baby is very sick and needs a midwife to regain its health," Vanyel interjected. "If it doesn't get proper care, it will die Raul."
"I'm not worried about my son...it's my wife that scares me."
"You just said that your wife was dead," Monsette observed.
"I burnt her body, but every night she comes back to nurse our son!"
"Vimanau be merciful..."
"Leyla tells me to play for her," Raul continued. "She looks the same...as if she had never died."

After a long pause, Monsette pulled Vanyel to the side and begin to speak in hushed tones.

“We shouldn’t tell Sam.”
“Why not,” Vanyel inquired.
“We need to reason with this specter, not destroy it.”
“You are right, it may be confused…I will send Shinlaiden away as well.”
“Good.”

Both men, then, walked over to their respective subordinates and issued orders that they return to the village.  Sam was very hesitant to leave, but Monsette insisted that they would be in no danger.  Vanyel didn’t bother to explain his actions to Shinlaiden; instead he dismissed him curtly.  Once Sam and Shinlaiden had left, Monsette and Vanyel hid themselves next to the wagon and waited for the inevitable arrival of Raul’s dead wife.

It wasn’t long before a beautiful dancer’s body began to float through the air, the rain passing right through its insubstantial form.  On and on it danced, Raul feverishly playing his violin until it stopped at the iron crib near the wagon.  Monsette couldn’t take his eyes off of her…she was stunning.  The fascination was short-lived as pain flooded through his left arm.  Looking up, Monsette saw Vanyel clamping down onto a piece of his flesh.  Shaking his idle thoughts away, Monsette and Vanyel broke cover just in time to see the Leyla begin nursing her son.  The color that had been restored to the child by Vanyel’s direct intervention was undone as the baby went pale from the ghost’s unearthly nectar.  The suckling did not carry on for long, as the child went limp in the ghost’s arms.

“Hello Leyla,” Vanyel said carefully.

The dead woman placed the baby back into the iron crib before turning to face Vanyel.

“Why hello.  Do I know you,” Leyla asked innocently.
“No Leyla, you do not.  I have just recently met your husband and your son,” Vanyel went on.

While Leyla was distracted, Monsette darted over to the baby and used minor healing powers to bring it back to life.

“Leyla, I know this may sound like a strange question, but do you remember anything recently?”
“I don’t understand,” the pleasantness leaving her voice.
“I mean do you know what you did this morning?”
“That’s a strange question.  Who are you again?”
“My name is Vanyel and I am friend of your husband.”
“I don’t know of such a name!”
“That is because I just met him today…do you remember anything that happened to you today?”
“Well, I just wandered off for a moment,” she began defensively.
“Do you remember anything that happened this morning Leyla?”
“I-I-I…What difference does it make,” she exclaimed in rage.
“That’s just it…you can’t remember, because you died many days ago.”
“But I’m right here, talking with you.”
“Yes, I know you are, but you are a ghost Leyla…a spirit.”
“No, these are lies!  LIES,” Leyla screamed as she clutched her head.
“You are killing your son Leyla, you must stop this,” Vanyel persisted.
“You are trying to steal my son with your lies…YOU ARE TRYING TO TAKE MY SON FROM ME!!!”

Leyla swung out with her incorporeal hand and struck Vanyel in the chest.  Her hand went right through his body, but he screamed in agony as his life force was ripped from the vessel of flesh.  Negotiations had broken down and diplomacy was dead.  Sensing this, Monsette infused his weapon with divine power and launched himself into the fray.  Blue sparks flew from the contact between his empowered weapon and the incorporeal monster.  Vanyel attempted to force the spirit back to its final resting place, but whatever forces had brought her back from the grave proved to difficult to counter.  Monsette kept slamming his blade into the monster, but his efforts seemed futile.  Eventually the spirit was able to bypass the enchanted weapon and suffuse Monsette with a chill from the netherworld.  Monsette’s body was unaccustomed to such trauma so all of his muscles locked up and refused to move.  Gaping and paralyzed, Monsette watched in terror, as Leyla was about to finish him off.  Monsette would have died, had Vanyel not intervened.  Casting his final spell, Vanyel attempted to drive the spirit away with forbidden arcane power.  His power failed and the repercussions were severe.  Leyla, an enraged vessel of death shoved both of its arms into Vanyel’s body and tore his soul to pieces.  Vanyel didn’t even scream as his body went limp and fell to the ground.  Monsette watched in anger as he stood helpless to save his friend.  It was then that the miracle happened.  Leyla’s image wavered as brilliant white light burst from behind her.  The woman’s body began to gain substance as she stumbled weakly over to her terrified husband and slumped down next to him.  As soon as her hand touched his, her body began to disintegrate.

“I curse you, murderers, from the depths of my heart; may you never feel the healing touch of compassion,” Leyla said feebly as the last of her was turned to dust and scattered by the wind.

“Mind telling me what is going on,” Sam said with a hint of anger in his voice.
“Let’s have this argument later Sam.  First help me carry Vanyel back to the village.”

Picking up Vanyel’s limp form, Sam hurried back towards the village.  Monsette tested the rejuvenated muscles in his body before daring to use them.  Looking back one more time at the sobbing Raul, the investigator began the long trek back to the village of Valetta.


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 10th, 747- “Who makes frequent inquiries about the road does not go astray.”*

As Monsette walked into the Inn’s rather shabby lounge, he noticed that some color had returned to Vanyel’s face.  Perhaps the cloak of blankets encasing Vanyel’s frail body had somehow managed to warm him up.  The fire had burnt out a while ago, but Monsette supposed that the warmth it had generated did help the healing process.  He would have stayed with Vanyel, but the last few days had exhausted him; he could barely keep himself up as it was.  Easing himself into a chair, Monsette began pulling tobacco out of his pouch and stuffing his pipe when he heard a large crash coming from the rooms down the hall.  The investigator continued to fill his pipe with icy calm as the innkeeper ran down the hall and began yelling obscenities at the top of his lungs.  Gathering some tinder, Monsette lit the pile with flint and steel he had borrowed from Sam just before their hellish trip into the Warehouse District a few days ago.  He began to inhale deeply while he lit the tobacco with the burning tinder.  The smoke was intoxicating.  He almost didn’t hear the shouting going on right behind him.  Shinlaiden had broken a bed and the innkeeper seemed rather agitated about that.  Something about tossing while having a nightmare…it really didn’t matter.  The gold coin that Monsette produced was quickly snatched away by the greedy Innkeeper’s.  The investigator watched as the glint of gold disappeared in between the rolls of fat covering the man’s deft hands.  Monsette didn’t bother to count the sum of money returned to him, while he ordered breakfast amidst the chaos.  _Everything was going to hell anyway, why not?  Looks like Vanyel is up._

Vanyel struggled with blankets embalming his body, until Sam appeared and helped him out of the cocoon.

“She’s gone isn’t she,” Vanyel gasped as the Sam freed him from the last blanket.
“Yeah, I took care of her,” Sam intoned somberly.
“By the Council, what have we done?  We have destroyed her only hope of salvation.  She was so confused…I am a monster.”

The fork carrying food to Monsette’s mouth clattered to the floor, drawing everyone’s attention.  The walls Monsette had erected these past few days to stave off the madness had slowly been crumbling, slowly deteriorating.  Spider-web cracks erupted on an hourly basis…whatever Vanyel had said simply shattered them in a single blow.

“What did you say,” Monsette hissed as he slowly rose from his chair.  Stalking over to Vanyel, his voice began to grow as he shouted.  “We almost died out there because of that selfish ghost!  That THING was killing its own child and haunting its husband!  It didn’t care about anything but itself and you are defending it?!!  Defending a monster that was causing harm to the innocent!  Are you insane?!”

The last word rung out in the silence of the room.  Monsette wiped the saliva from his mouth with the back of hand and returned to his breakfast with a growl.  The investigator’s words had more effect than he had anticipated.  Sam and Shinlaiden were staring at him with shock plainly etched in their faces and tears were welling up in Vanyel’s eyes.  With a sigh, Monsette got up once again from his food and walked over to the distressed Vanyel.  Calling upon the power of Viminau, Monsette attempted to repair some of the damage the specter had caused Vanyel.  As the energy poured from Monsette’s hands, into Vanyel, it dissipated over his body!  Shinlaiden and Sam’s eyes only got wider.

“I told you Monsette.  We are alone out here.  I don’t even feel Salvx anymore…it’s as if he has abandoned me,” Sam said with morbidly.
“Shut up Sam,” Monsette snapped.

Invoking Viminau’s power once again, Monsette attempted to repair his own vessel of flesh.  Nothing happened.  Even Sam’s divine power dissipated over Vanyel’s body.

“We are cursed,” Vanyel said prophetically.
“Thank you for that lifting speech Vanyel.  You two watch him, while I go talk to Raul.”

Monsette stalked out of the Inn, leaving plumes of smoke in the air around him.  The day passed quickly and still there was no word from him.  The party waited impatiently for the return of Monsette: Vanyel drew Leyla, Shinlaiden slept, and Sam drank.  Only well after the sun had set on the horizon did he finally return with Raul in tow.

“Here’s the deal.  One of the guys on the list without his name crossed off lives in this place called Barovia.  This country is a few days away by horse.  Raul has agreed to guide us there and help us find this…Gunter Edel.  Apparently he lives in the capitol.  Everyone rest up tonight, because it is going this is going to be a long trip.”

*_________________
October 11th, 747*

Atop horses provided by a grateful Dimitri did the party proceed on their journey.  Raul packed up the wagon and only took his son Nikki with him.  When asked if he was afraid someone would steal his belongings, he only became grimmer and answered that they would suffer a fate worse than death…no one asked about that again.  The baby was difficult to satiate, as the party possessed no milk, but divine power from both Monsette and Vanyel seemed to stave off death.  The party didn’t quite understand why it was that their spells worked some of the time, but then again, no one spoke much anyway.

*________________
October 12th, 747*

The blue skies became more and more overcast as the group progressed towards the Barovian/Invidian border.  The lush deciduous forests gave way to harsher evergreens as the temperature began to visibly drop.  The party made light conversation with one another to keep morale up.  The two times, the party was frightened was when Shinlaiden expressed worry about “seeing something funny” and when Vanyel woke everyone up because he had a nightmare.  Needless to say that both incidents did not help the party’s confidence.

________________
October 13th, 747

As the river wound up towards the domain of Barovia, it forked allowing one branch to go north while the other went south.  Nestled between the forks resided a fairly large town called Zidendorf.  Raul explained that this town was on the edge of Barovia because Lord Strahd, ruler of Barovia, had recently annexed the land.  Needless to say that the land and its people were in turmoil, thus a large battalion had been stationed in Zidendorf to ensure the “peace.”  Gundaraks were known for their short temper…this kept many people in jail.

Simply by entering the town, the party already noticed the dramatic difference between Invidians and Barovians.  The men in this town seemed bigger, heavier, and meaner altogether.  They wore their black hair in braids and donned stout woolen vests.  The women seemed to cover every inch of their bodies with drab clothing and no one seemed to be without a male counterpart.  The approach of seven heavily armed guards did nothing to lighten the atmosphere.  All of the men wore identical chain shirts, covered with an orange tunic that bore crest of a raven.  The men’s looks were adamantine.  As no one but Raul seemed to understand their thick accents, none of the party members bothered to speak.  Although it was tense, the moment was quickly gone as the regiment dispersed with Raul’s last words.

“What did they want,” Monsette asked.
“They just wanted to know what we planned to do in the town,” Raul replied.
“I don’t need the language to tell me those guys thought we were trouble,” Sam said sternly.

Monsette’s mind worked at a thousand paces a minute, while he discussed the party’s next move.  The conclusion was that Vanyel and Raul would go look for a midwife, while Monsette, Sam, and Shilaiden looked for information.  Shinlaiden didn’t like the idea of leaving Vanyel, but he finally agreed after some coercion from the frail linguist.  As Vanyel and Raul disappeared into the crowd, Monsette led his group towards the one place everyone could help but talk: the local tavern.  It wasn’t hard to find.  Put a bunch of angry men and alcohol together in a cold desolate region and you get noise.  All Monsette had to do was follow the sound.

Normally alcohol breaks down social and economical barriers…in this case it did not.  There was a visible schism in this tavern.  On one side, the men tasked with preserving the peace sat and on the other lied a lesser-armed majority without the benefit of identification.  Both groups eyeing one another and muttering in hushed tones as Monsette entered.  When the investigator walked in with Shinlaiden and Sam flanking him, all conversation stopped as every eye turned towards him.  Monsette couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage.  In a halting form of the language, Monsette spoke to the waiting audience.

“I am looking for the capitol of this country.  I believe it is called Vallaki.”

The silence was shattered as the tavern erupted in laughter.  Both sides laughed and pointed at the now blushing investigator.  As the laughter began to die down a man red from laughter spoke between gasps of air.

“Maybe you should go back to Invidian and ask your mother!” 

This only produced more laughter from everyone but Shinlaiden, Sam, and Monsette.

“Thank you but no good sir,” Monsette replied calmly.  “I am looking for a path to Vallaki.  Would you please help me?”
“If I were you Invidian, I would follow the Old Svitch Road to Vallaki.  I wouldn’t stray from the path…you wouldn’t want to get attacked by ghouls and goblins on your first night here.”

The man’s somber tones were crushed with another round of laughter from all parties.  Shinlaiden’s jaw clenched and unclenched in anger.  He didn’t understand the language, but he didn’t need to be a linguist to know that everyone was laughing at them!  The burly man stepped forward, his massive frame interposing itself between Monsette and the group of laughing townsmen.  Watching Shinlaiden from the other side of Monsette, Sam followed suit.  The tension that had been dispelled by the laughter returned with renewed force.  The man Shinlaiden was staring at stood up…eight men following suit.  Both men simply starred at one another, neither backing down.  The men in uniforms looked on with growing amusement.

“I think we have had enough here Shin; don’t you think,” Monsette asked in soothing tones.

Monsette backed his belligerent companions out of the Inn…slowly.  Laughter shortly resumed once the group had left.  After reprimanding Shinlaiden for almost getting everyone killed, the group linked up with Vanyel and Raul.  Vanyel said that they had been unsuccessful in obtaining a midwife, because of the level of racism against Raul’s people.  Something about how no one wanted to get involved with “the dark magic of the Vistani.”  However, the good news Vanyel did bring was the fact that he had managed to secure a female goat at the cost of some paper and his harp; the most prized possession Vanyel ever had.  Monsette added sacrifice to the mix, but donating the remainder of his money and selling his (or rather Sam’s) flint and steel to purchase furs for everyone.  Once they were well equipped, everyone agreed that it was safer outside the town than within.  Slinging his bedroll over his shoulder, Monsette led the party away from Zidendorf.


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 14th, 747: “Fiat Veritas pereat vita (Let there be truth and may life perish).”-Friedrich Nietzsche*

The party awoke wearily the next morning at first light. No one had slept well; even Shinlaiden, who had pulled the final leg of guard duty, seemed bleary-eyed when he roused everyone. Sam and Raul were eager to make headway on their long journey towards Vallaki immediately, but Vanyel astutely pointed out that the horses did not have enough food to last a long trip. A grappling hook, belt pouch, and strange metal box with a seven-pointed star later, Monsette had grudgingly secured horse feed, a harness, and an old rickety cart to tie the goat to with a small chain he had also purchased. The Old Svitch Road was a large highway, which would have been able to allow three wagons to ride abreast of one another. As it was, no such traffic existed as the party made their way North. Vanyel began to suspect that the sun set faster than normal in the realm of Barovia, but Monsette assured him that the cloud cover was at fault for that phenomenon.

Guard duty had been the same every night: Sam, Monsette, Vanyel, Raul, and then Shinlaiden. Sam was about reaching the pleasant stages of slumber when he was awoken by gentle hands shaking him.

"What? What is it," Sam said groggily.
"Sam, I thought I saw something. Something is out there," Vanyel whispered.
"I don't see anything, you must be just imagining." Sam's voice trailed off.

The Old Svitch Road wound its way north and was flanked, to the east, by an enormous forest of evergreens so thick that the light of the sun could barely penetrate its outermost reaches. To the west of the road lied plains of tall brown grass; the area where the party had decided to make camp, over one hundred yards from the road. Suspended ten feet above the ground, in the forest, were glowing red orbs.hundreds of small red orbs simply suspended among the trees. Needless to say that no one slept for the rest of the night. The party huddled together, weapons drawn, awaiting the inevitable.

*______________
October 15th, 747*

Morning came, if slowly, banishing the glowing red orbs from forest. Exhaustion had set in anew, wreaking havoc on the party's conversational capabilities. In fact, the situation had become so dire that Shinlaiden was ordered to travel next to Sam in order to catch him if he nodded off in the saddle. Monsette was going over the finer points of his religion; to keep himself and others from falling asleep, when his speech was rudely interrupted by a loud squawk from within the forest. Monsette continued on unabated, but the squawking only seemed to get louder. First a new crow joined in the song and then another shortly thereafter. Soon the sound became deafening as a chorus of crows began to sing with chilling tones. Monsette didn't need any more encouragement to pick up the pace. He was about to tell everyone to move a little quicker when a white dove broke from the forest's cover and landed on Vanyel's shoulder. No one had anytime to react to the situation as a cloud of darkness burst from the tree line right on the dove's tail. The morning sun was eclipsed as hundreds of crows encircled the party in a shower of black feathers. Vanyel attempted vainly to shield the dove with his hands as a storm of beaks rained down upon him. Monsette, in the meantime, struggled to channel the power of Viminau into a shield that could protect the party from the forces of evil, but the hail of claws proved to be more than a match for his concentration. Sam strained his arms to keep his horse from bolting, but Shinlaiden did not possess the skill to do so. The frightened horse bucked and threw Vanyel into the air. Only by the luck did Vanyel backwards into Sam's waiting arms. Once he had secured Vanyel, Sam galloped his horse into the forest not daring to look back. Shinlaiden and Raul urged their horses forward in a similar fashion, while Monsette unhooked the cart from his horse. Unbuckling the straps, Monsette heard the hopeless cries of the goat as the crows tore it to pieces. As Monsette galloped his horse over to the forest, he took one look back at the cart only to see that no trace of the goat remained and the chain had been broken. The crows were dispersing somewhat, but Monsette wasn't will to stick around and find out if the goat had satisfied their hunger.

A few minutes later the party had regrouped a mile or so into the forest. The dove that Vanyel had so desperately tried to save was perched on a branch just above his head, cooing innocently.

"I think that we are supposed to follow it," Vanyel uttered.
"How can you be so sure," Mosette asked.
"I saw this bird in a dream I had two nights ago. It is a guide."
"A dream Vanyel?"
"Yes, it was where I had to make a choice.I don't remember fully, but I do remember the dove."
"The forests in Barovia are dangerous," Raul interrupted worriedly. "Sometimes Barovian brides are taken on their wedding nights and later found in the woods.mutilated. It is a dangerous place at night."
"Why am I not surprised," replied Monsette. "Tell me Raul, is it faster to Vallaki through the forest?"
"Yes it is much faster, but."
"Good, then that settles it. Your baby needs milk after all…we can't just let him die now can we?"

The party’s silence was mirrored in the forest.  Not a single bird call; not a single insect’s chirp.  The rest of the day was suffocating for everyone as they followed the dove through the forest.

*____________
October 17th, 747*

New days only brought more misery to the party as they trudged though the damp forest.  Yesterday saw a torrential downpour, making the trek more difficult for both the horses and the riders.  Only a sliver of the once proud full moon remained hidden in the folds of the clouds.  The party’s self proclaimed guide wasn’t much help, as his navigational skills asserted that a small town should have appeared by now…this did nothing for morale.  Monsette did everything he could to cling to the crumbling vision of hope.  He had about exhausted his stories of victory when Raul spotted a small house in the distance.  As the group approached and dismounted it seemed more like cottage than a house.  The dove serenely perched itself over the roof of the structure and waited in expectation.  Vanyel shivered as he moved forward, but was violently yanked back by Monsette.

“What’s wrong,” Vanyel asked.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but it there were humanoid shapes surrounding the cottage.  Monsette counted three of them as he cautiously examined them from afar.  They were as tall as a man, but hunched over in a sitting position.  Monsette couldn’t make out any features as the figures wore dark heavy robes, adorned with the rot of fungus.  All three were sitting in the center of circular patterns outlined in chalk…simply staring at the house.

“This is a bad idea Vanyel.  I say we just forget we ever saw this house and move along.  The longer we stay out here the more chance there is of Nikki dying.”
“No Monsette…I have to know.  All my life I have questioned my existence; I want answers now,” Vanyel replied coolly.

Before Monsette could retort with witty sarcasm, Vanyel was walking towards the cottage.

“You fool!  Phah!  Well, don’t just stand there you idiots, go after him!”

Sam and Shinlaiden looked at one another with the glance of understanding before chasing after Vanyel.  As he approached the house, the cloaked figures began to stir.  Slowly at first did they rise from their positions in unison.  Their skeletal hands reached out simultaneously but came up against an invisible force.  Their arms strained against the barrier causing blue sparks to fly from the very air they touched.  As they pushed through, their hands narrowed into curved steel blades.  Shinlaiden grabbed Vanyel, pulling him back, as Sam interposed himself between the hooded figures and his companions.  The instant Sam freed his rapier from its scabbard did the creatures explode into action.  Moving faster than anyone could register, the skeletal men routed their pray.  One rushed Sam directly, while the other two went after Van and Shinlaiden.  Sam would have lost his life had he not brought his sword up in a defensive posture to deflect the steel weapons growing out of creature’s forearms.  For the first in many years Sam saw the look of fear as he gazed into the monster’s glowing green eyes.

Shinlaiden watched as Vanyel’s spellcasting was interrupted by a slash of the creature’s blade across the frail man’s torso.  Watching his friend fall back in anguish triggered something deep in his subconscious mind.  Primal instincts of protection were awoken from buried corners of his soul.  He ignored the skeletal monster attacking him.  With a scream of rage, Shinlaiden brought his mace down onto the monster’s skull as Vanyel scurried away to safety.  This proved to be a mistake, as the final creature skewered Shinlaiden through the shoulder.  Ignoring the pain, the behemoth grabbed the skeleton’s arm and began to ram his skull into its forehead over and over.  The force of each blow was enough to move the skeleton back.  While Shinlaiden was wrestling with the undead, Sam was doing all he could to stay alive.  Raul and Monsette battled the remaining creature with aid of Viminau.  In the ensuing chaos, Vanyel slipped away towards the house.  During the huge melee Monsette saw Vanyel’s form approach the cottage.  When he arrived at the door, light flared up from within the structure.  Ignoring the cries of battle, Vanyel creaked the door open.  Broken furniture, dust, and dirt littered the floor.  The only intact object was a small chair, occupied by an older man.  He, like the rest of the room, had a layer of dust covering his simple white robes.

“Who are you,” Vanyel asked in Balok (Local language).
“The better question is who are you,” the man replied with flawless Nymbardaxian Common.

As he turned, his gaunt frame became apparent.  A hawkish nose protruded from rather pale skin.  His hair was snow white, radically contrasting his dark eyes.  They were black pools, without any illusion of pupils.

“So, Vanyel, would you like to come inside?”

Vanyel was torn from his thoughts by the pressure of blood soaked hand on his arm.  Turning around, he saw his weakened companion staring at him.  Directly behind him were Raul, Sam, and Shinlaiden; still locked in fierce battle against the undead creatures.

“Don’t go in there Vanyel,” Monsette told him.

“Oh come now Monsette.  Surely you don’t think I would wish harm on our…unique…friend Vanyel do you?  Besides, it’s raining…if you stay out there any longer you will catch your death.”

Monsette was just about to refute the strange man’s point when a light drizzle began.  Vanyel looked up at the sky one last time before entering the cottage.

“Tell me who I am,” Vanyel demanded.
“In due time young one.  There are many things that must be done…many things indeed,” the strange old man answered.
“Tell me now!  No more games.”
“It is…difficult to explain.”

In anger Vanyel wheeled about and headed towards the door.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the old man cautioned.

Vanyel paid no attention to him.  Passing the threshold caused an arc of lightning to surround him and hurl the poor man back into the room.  Shaking his head, the old man began dragging the smoking linguist towards the center of the room.

“Now, before you do something rash, let me tell you that your friend is only half-dead.  Only I can save him now, so do not interfere if you value his life.”

Monsette stared on in anger as the man began weaving his hands in strange motions.  Runes began to light up all over the house, encasing the two in brilliant light.  Shielding his eyes, Monsette barely saw what happened next.  Lightning shot from the runes and began to flow through Vanyel…they moved faster and faster until Monsette had to close his eyes in pain.  Then quite suddenly it all stopped and Vanyel was gone.

“That was taxing.  Well, I fulfilled my end of the bargain.”
“What have you done to my friend,” Monsette screamed in rage.  “I will kill you!”

Clicking his tongue, the old man only smiled.  “How are you going to kill me if you aren’t even here.”

Blink.

Monsette, Shinlaiden, Raul, and Sam found themselves right outside an enormous town on the Old Svitch Road.  The stream of curses Monsette proceeded to unleash could have flayed the hide from a demon in the ninth level of the hell…


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil - Prelude (or “My name is Stider.”)*

_Yours is a free spirit. Soar like the eagle. Run like the cheetah. Pounce like the tiger. I release you from your bonds of blood. You shall be known as Oathbreaker...Be free Oathbreaker…_ 
--------------------------------------- 
"Report"

"The tree-killers bleed as we speak." 

"Praise The Mother. You may leave." 

"Sir!" 

"What is it?" 

"What about the boy?" 

"He is a one of them-" 

"But he is not-" 

"Silence! He will join his sacrilegious brethren in the desecrated limbo of their civilized afterlife. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" 

"Yes SIR!" 
--------------------------------- 
"Gallyn, where are we going?" 

Gallyn looked at the boy with mournful eyes. "To a happier place." 
The half-orc walked with the human boy through the forest he had grown to love so much. He had lived there for most of his life. He was one of the first. This was beyond him, though. He went over in his mind what he would do when they reached the pond. "Lets go for a swim" the water would hide Gallyns tears. 

The boy scampered on ahead knowing exactly where they were going. It always amazed Gallyn how much the boy loved to swim. He seemed so alive in the forest...so free.

As he waded into the pond he put his hand on the boys shoulder. All he had to do was hold him underwater. Drowning was painless. You lost consciousness before any pain would set in. All he had to do was... 

"Gallyn, why are you crying?" 

Gallyn slapped the boy across the face as hard as he possible could. "Leave me you disgraceful child!" he screamed.

The boys eyes welled with tears the slap causing the least amount of pain. 
Gallyn roared "I never want to see you again! LEAVE!" 

He had known the boy for less than 3 months but in that time had already thought of him as his son. He could not kill him. He would challenge Mardocks rule and perhaps restore order to the Thorn. (Mardock is a key NPC in Natural Selection from Dungeon 85) 

The boy turned and swam to the other side of the pool. He looked back once upon reaching the opposite shore. Gallyn gave him such a menacing look the boy literally wet himself. He watched the boy run until he could no longer see him. With that, he turned, exited the pond, set his jaw, and began at a dead run to the head council member of the Order of the Thorn. 
---------------------------------- 
"Dinner" 

"Dinner! Where is he now?" 

"I think he's still in the forest. Should I get him mom?" 

"Please." 

It was dusk. The sun was just setting over the mountains. Will was not supposed to be out this late. Why did he always go to the forest. He seemed to like it more than his very own home. Well, not his home really. Marys father had taken the boy in when he was an adolescent and raised him as his own. Mary was younger than Will by a few years, but that didnt stop her from being the more responsible one. The boy was impossible. 

From around the bend a sprint he came into view. Leaping over logs, Diving through bushes. He barely made a sound as he ran. 
------------------------------------- 
"I have come to ask permission to wed your daughter, Mary." 

"…" 

"I love her Mr. Shonka. I have always loved her." 

"I demand one condition, Will. You must settle down. You must build a house in our village; earn a decent living; and provide for her the way she deserves." 

"Mr. Shonka, you have my word." 
-------------------------------------- 
"Youre pretty good with that bow." 

"Thanks Tom." 

"You think we will be hit?" 

"Dunno, we are on the border. I am worried for my wife and child." 

"Well we are on the north end. God I hate guard duty. I want to be with my girlfriend." 

Will grinned at Tom. The two of them had been working the same night shifts for the last year. His son was 9 months old and Mary was as beautiful as ever. There had been news of attacks on some of the border towns west and south. The information was exaggerated at best: supposedly the very forest attacked the towns. 

Will drew the sheaf arrow to his ear. 

"Wherere you going to try for this time?" 

Will nodded. 

"Bull S**T! Thats almost 200 yards away!" 

The arrow flew true. 

"Glad youre on my side" 

"As the two exchanged grins, Tom suddenly clutched his throat. A barbed shaft protruded from his neck." 

"TOM!!!" 

Tom fell over the palisades before Will could reach him. As his body hit the ground 15 feet below and thunderous cacophony of war cries erupted from the nearby forest. All manner of humanoids charged forth. Will gave the alarm. 

_This cant be happening. No. Mary..._ 
-------------------------------- 
Will set on one of the uppermost branches of the Great Oak (one of the tallest trees in the region). He could see the smoldering remains of what was once his home, his life. He remembered the attack 3 days ago, now in vivid detail: after gaining the walls the half-orcs, gnolls, orcs, hobgoblins and other creatures went about eviscerating every living soul they came across. No one was spared not even the children. Then the true horrors appeared: living plants that simply devoured the citizens of Jershin. He could not reach Mary in time. Her screams echoed in his ears. She had feebly attempted to shield Scotty, their son with her body. Both were devoured in less than a minute. Wills screamed was one of insanity the unmistakable cry that man emits when his world shatters. 
The smell of the battle was still thick and pungent in his nostrils. 

_I shouldnt think about this any more._ 
------------------------------------- 
"I seek membership in the Thorn." 

"You are a human. How could you possibly understand the idealogy of the Thorn?" 

"I have not been in contact with civilization for over 4 years. My home is the forest. Society is a distant memory." _I have studied the mother nature for four years. I have studied her darkside. I will purify her._ 

"You must survive the rite of passage. Are you prepared for mothers embrace?" 

"I am." 

"Very well. You may EARN membership into the Thorn. What is your name?" 

"My name I am known as Strider." 
-------------------------------------- 
"There have been reports of a disruption coming from the south." 

"I know." 

"You have asked to take a leave of absence." 

"I request permission to investigate some of the rumors." 

"Just as well…_maybe this disturbance will rid us of this human once and for all._  "You were to be assigned to Highfolk anyway. Go forth, Restore balance, and maintain the natural order." 

"Now and always, I await mothers embrace." 
------------------------------------- 
"Yer bout’s qwiet es e drunk’n ox ‘n heat." 

Strider left the shadows of the alley and approached the battered dwarf. 

A few weeks travel had brought Strider to the tree-spotted rolling hills surrounding 
Oakhurst and very quickly to the village itself. Six years had passed since Strider had last walked among his own kind. Suppressed memories brushing the surface of his mind told stories of a man named Will, who had once been a charismatic townsman, a father, and a husband. Those thoughts were fleeting at best the thoughts of a man of the past. Despite refocusing on his current goal and self-proclaimed mission, however, that old charisma was creeping back into his demeanor. He had been in Oakhurst for a few days, learning only that a small group had headed to an old monastery, now labeled the "Sunless Citadel". He managed to find the tracks of the group and followed them to a dead end the edge of a cliff. With a bit of exploration he found that the ravine ended at the entrance to the 
Sunless Citadel (now he understood the name). 

The next morning he and a few visitors to the village Falcon and Dred went down to explore the Citadel. A bugbear and his pet twin dire rats ambushed the group before they made it very far. Dred was unconscious and Falcon ready to turn and run before the creature was driven off. 

"I could not help but overhear the beginning of your story. Forgive me for my distrust and decision to remain unseen. My name is Strider. Unless I am terribly mistaken, I believe you and I are allies fighting a common enemy." 

"Ohh shut yer trap. Dont be rydiculus. Eef you er mi enemy, Ai wud not haf jus stood heyr, now wud I? Yer names Strider, eh? Wel, if yae tmanage t not wake the dead wif yer trompin, Ill b askin fer yer assistance timarow, or da ya prapose we leave now wif yer excellent nitevision, and mi barly able t walk?" 

" You said you and your companions Stella (Dems niece) and Faust were on your way to rescue Dem (the local healer) but kobolds ambushed you before you reached the Citadel? You were thrown off a cliff and " 

"Not thrown uff pushd uff. Du Ai look lyke im in a talktiv mood rite now? Ack, Ai need sum rest. How bout we talk n the morning Aim bout reddy t clapse. Will sunraise b urly nuff fer ya?" 

"My apologies. I will see you tomorrow morning. Let me know if there is any way I might be able to assist." 

"I dowt yad b much use tme Not nles yer e healer? No, Ai didn think so. Let a dwarf git sum sleep." 

"Good night" 
---------------------------------- 
_I will purify mother-nature._ 

Strider, bloodied and bruised, had found the source of the "disturbance" the Gulthias Tree. Supposedly the corpse of a vampire had given the tree life and spawned all manner of unnatural plants along with it. Looking over at Aramek, he could see the spittle foaming from the corners of his mouth. The dwarf had proven an invaluable ally and together they had rampaged through most of the citadel. Now Arameks eyes were focused solely on the cocoons holding the bodies of Dem, Stella and Faust. The dwarf was working himself into a rage. Belak, an ex-member of the Thorn, and his companions were going to die! 
----------------------------------------- 
Belak had managed to escape while Strider was occupied wiping the thornlings plant abominations from the face of the planet. Aramek, exhausted from his rage had collapsed after chopping down the Gulthias tree. Strider, at the threshold between life and death managed to retrieve the unconscious bodies of Dem, Stella, and Faust. 

_I will defend these people until the last drop of blood has left my body._

After the make-shift fortifications were in place Strider moved the four comatose members of his group to one of the fungus gardens where he could easily defend them. Sleep eventually claimed him. 

"Wayke up! Straider, er ya live?" 

Strider bolted upright. "Is everyone ok?" 

"Ya, ya there fine. Ya want tgit out of this god-forsaken hellhole?" 

"Lets move." 
--------------------------------------- 
Dem was an utter master when it came to natural and spiritual healing. She made short work of the poison in Stella and Faust. Aramek was another story. He was hurt badly in the fight verse Belak and his minions. During Arameks bed-rest, Strider, fascinated by the curative powers of nature studied the properties of different herbs and natural curatives. He also received word that a merchant in town was looking to hire a few body guards for his wares on his trip up to Blasingdale. 

Aramek and Strider, both looking to earn a little extra coin, signed on. Falcon and Dred, recovered from their first entry down to the Citadel, were also in need of money. Falcon had no money whatsoever and Dred was in debt owing the innkeeper several gold pieces for his stay at the inn while he recovered Strider put up the money. 
-------------------------------------- 
"ATTACK!!!" 

"ATTACK!!!" 

The bolt was embedded deep in Falcons thigh. The adrenalin was all that kept him moving. Leaping from the rock he flew through the air planting his foot in the face of the first orc he saw. 

The hired arms were awake in moments. There was no light and the only person who could see in the dark was Aramek. The sound of small battles surrounded the horses and wagon. Dred charged forward with his spiked shield ripping into the worg. 

The battle raged for a few moments. Three of the four were left standing. 

Strider buried Dreds body that same night. Despite Dreds abrasiveness, he was still a man who was a comrade on the battlefield. Strider prayed the rest of the night. 

_I am lost. Mother, I ask for guidance. Show me the way. The path of the Thorn is filled with hate. I too am filled with hate. I seek balance. Show me peace. Please lay my comrades soul to rest. He was a man of honor._
--------------------------------------- 
Upon reaching Blasingdale the group was immediately solicited for a military operation. The local countryside was unsafe because of a group of bandit orcs who were slaying farmers and raiding the local homesteads. After speaking with the local lord a price of 10 gp was to be paid for each orc head. 

Stella and Faust had also left Oakhurst upon their recovery. Arriving a day after Strider, Aramek and Falcon, they quickly joined the group. The party was headed towards an old dwarven stronghold. Apparently, Durgidden the Black, was a famous weaponsmith and had run the stronghold centuries ago. Since its abandonment years ago, a group of orcs had laid claim to its walls as of late. 

"We will take care of it." 

"I expect you will. Dont forget, 10 gp a head. I want them all dead." 

"Understood."


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil - Prelude 2 (or “We are all mortal. It is more a question of how, rather then when.”)*

"Orcs two of them." 

-twang- 

-twang- 

[Scream of pain] 

[gurgle] 

"MOVE!" 

Aramek: "Son of a goat! Were sittin duks out ere. Son of a bluddie goat! Aargh!" 

Stella: "We need to get to the doors." 

Aramek: "Aye, ya be right with that las." 

Faust: "As soon as we break from this wall they can fire down on us." 

Strider: "Falcon, run to that nook over there while I provide missile cover. As soon as you get there, provide missile cover for the rest of us. Once you all get to the door, I will draw they’re fire to give you time to get inside" 

Aramek: "Ai dont mean ta burst yer bubble lad, but they’re firing out of slots 2 inches wide.  Ya-“

Strider: "Trust me. Falcon, NOW!" 

_Elhonna. Guide my hand; let my aim be true this day._ (As an aside, the orcs on the inside of the stronghold had 9/10ths cover. Strider only missed once. Can I get a BOO YAH?!)

Aramek: "Strider, les go. Come on. Yer as slow as pregnant mule. COME ON!" 

Strider managed to only get struck once and a graze at that. Upon gaining the entrance, Falcon immediately set to lighting a torch so he and Strider could see. Aramek was busy closing the door with Stella. Strider and Faust were reloading. As the torch ignited with a flare, the party had only a moment to react to the rain of arrows fired from the opposite end of the precarious rope-bridge (visible only to Stella, Faust and Aramek before). The torchlight was only bright enough to reveal the opposite edge of the apparent bottomless chasm. With everyone’s eyes readjusting, no one could see who it was on the opposite edge. Aramek charged the bridge while the rest of the party set to returning fire. Guessing from the angle of the incoming arrows and seeing the outline of stalagmites on the other side, Strider took aim. 

-gurgle- 

Elhonna truly had heard Strider’s prayer. 

The rope bridge was a death trap. Aramek fell off less than 10 feet across and by the luck of Moradin was able to clasp a hand around part of the bridge. Strider dove to catch him while the faceless enemies, Stella and Faust were exchanging missile fire. Falcon noticed a door to the partys left and wisely guarded it. Strider managed to prevent both himself and Aramek from falling. However, Aramek was intent on getting to the other side and started monkey bar climbing his way to the other side of the bridge. Strider took up missile fire again. By the time Aramek was two thirds across, an orc broke from cover and started hacking away at the rope bridge with his axe. He managed to cut one side before Strider could pelt him with arrows. Falcon hearing movement around the corner (beyond the door to the partys left) surprised the oncoming orcs and managed to take the both of them out. When he returned Aramek had gained the other side. Falcon seeing the other side was secure carefully made his way onto the bridge after tying a rope around his waste and securing it to the bridge. Tiptoeing to the center of the bridge, the monk had a moment of clarity before he saw his end. For that one instant, the universe was clear. The bridge tipped, having had one of its ends cut by the orc, and Falcon plummeted to his death. His last thoughts were memories of him denying the usefulness of rope use to his sensei. 
Falcons descent was met with silent shock. Stella numbly took out her rope and very carefully secured one end to the door while. Strider did the same with his own rope. Strider was the next to brave the crossing. With the added structural support of the two additional ropes, Strider made it across.

Faust was not so lucky. The bard had practiced tightrope walking before. However, fate frowned on Faust this day. Stellas numbness abided overcome by rage. She did not stop screaming until Faust was no longer visible. 

Aramek: "Go back las. Strider and Ai will take it frum ere." 

Stella: "Im coming across. So help me Pelor, I am coming across!" 

Aramek: "At least take off yer armor." 

The gear was sent over first. With Stellas first precarious step, every one of Strider’s muscles tensed. Each inch was witnessed by Aramek’s release of a bit more of the breath he was holding onto. When Stella had both feet planted on the opposite side, Aramek literally hugged her. 

Within a few seconds, the weakened party was underway. Throwing open the doorway on the other side of the bridge revealed a series of tunnels dug by the dwarves in an age long ago. Strider instinctively moved to the lead, but was quickly reprimanded by Aramek for being a complete human fool. Strider would have contested the point had he actually had the ability to see in darkness. Aramek’s excursion didn’t last long. Within a few yards, he came across what looked like a makeshift prison. Inside were two human figures. Aramek reported this to the group before he had them come near the wooden cage. Both men instantly sat up as they saw the party approach. 

"Wat ar ye in fer?" 

One of the humans pressed his face to the bars and gave Strider a long, hard look. 

"I am here because I am human," the man spoke in chilling tones. 

"Dusnt seem rite if ye ask me. Strider?" 

"No it doesn’t Aramek. I believe that the sentence was rather harsh." 
In a few moments the wooden bars were hacked away by Aramek’s handaxe. The human who spoke to them through the bars named himself Braxis and the other called himself Cascio. Braxis instantly swore fealty to Strider and Aramek for saving his life. Cascio, on the other hand, seemed too self-absorbed playing with a snake wrapped around his wrist to notice that he had actually been freed. With a reinvigorated party, Aramek led the way through the tunnels once again. 

After many dead ends and wrong turns, the party finally made their way back into an area of worked stone. The long hallway contained many doors. A decision was upon the party on how to proceed. It was obvious that evil humanoids lurked beyond the portals, but everyone had a theory on how to proceed. Braxis suggested working from one room to the next, quietly slitting the throats of unprepared orcs and thereby reducing their force dramatically before an inevitable confrontation. Strider found this to be sound advice. Cascio thought it might be a better idea if someone had a magical potion that would turn his snake into a demon, so that it could kill everyone. Everyone stared blankly at him for a moment before trying to pretend that actual words did not come from his mouth. Braxis and Strider were fine-tuning their plans, when Aramek said "ferk it" and kicked down the nearest door, pandemonium instantly erupted.

Aramek awaited in the hallway with his companions as orcs poured out from every available portal. Steel met steel and the pain of battle was on everyone’s lips. The adventurers bunched together, a tactic that saved them from certain doom as wave after wave of orcs attempted to sunder them. The battle was going in favor of the party before an ogre and his two pet wolves showed up. The wolves tore into their ranks as his greataxe dealt heavy damage to both Strider and Aramek. Eventually the party prevailed through sheer tenacity, but with great cost. Stella had taken a blow so fatal that not even the divine power of Ehlonna could undo. In all the days Strider had fought by his side, he had never seen Aramek even close to tears. Not when the orcs tore his flesh with their weapons, not when Belaks dark powers had been used upon him, not even when he threw himself off the side of a chasm…no, not once did he cry. Yet at the sight of Stella’s motionless body, tears began to well in his eyes. No one needed encouragement to leave him alone with her body as he gave her the last rights. 

It seemed like a few hours before Aramek had finally finished. Without so much as a glance at the rest of the party, he started to head onward into the depths of the dwarven stronghold. 

"Wel, what ar ya waitin fer ya bunch of firgin yaks!" 

The next few days were spent watching Braxis set off every single trap the dwarven stronghold ever built and resting once they had been triggered. The groups exploration eventually led them to the lower levels of the complex, an area called the Glitterhame. There they met up with a man Aramek knew as Eblis and his dwarven companion Bandar. Eblis was mercenary, according to Aramek, but still a damn good man to have in fight. With the addition of Eblis and Bandar to the group, everyone’s moral instantly improved as they saw their chance of survival go up dramatically. 

More exploring led to an ironclad door that not even Braxis could open. 

Braxis: "This lock is too complex for me. We need to find a key." 

Eblis: "Let me try mine." 

Within a few moments Eblis was able to carve through the steel like a hot knife through butter. Even Aramek couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping.

With the door demolished, the group entered the depths of the stronghold. Reclaiming the forge was a battle hard fought. Cascio went down in the first couple of seconds completely beyond revival. Strider was also beaten into unconsciousness. Only, Bandar, Aramek, Braxis, and Eblis were left standing. Braxis looking for healing potions made the fatal mistake of exploring the nearby rooms on the level of the forge and literally woke the dead. An undead orc beat Braxis’ body into a pulp while the rest of the group was apprehending the duegar who had laid claim to the forge of fury.

Aramek: "That was e nasty hit, lad." 

Strider: "Where are we?" 

Aramek: "Back in Blasingdale, lad. Ya had sum nasty wounds there." 

Strider: "…" 

Aramek: "A letter has cum fer ya. If Aim not mistakn it be the same as the one Ai receivd. Ya ever heard of Homlet?"


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Richfest, 591 CY*

_These past few days have surpassed all of my expectations.  It seems as if the group that had traveled to Blasingdell has not met its end prematurely.  As I had expected, most of the members were slain.  This is to be expected with the solemnity of the task before us.  I never place all of my hopes on a single group of people, which is why I have been cultivating other skillful men and women elsewhere on Flanaess…

Over the years, Otto and I have had many discussions about the concepts of fate and destiny.  Many conceive of prophecies as instructions for precise cause and effects to bring about a predefined outcome.  I; however, have a different opinion on the matter.  Instead of the usual epic hero destined to slay the great evil, I think of prophecy as a way of stacking the odds in one’s favor.  There is no one man or woman destined to change the course of history; instead many men and women attract favorable outcomes through interactions with other players.  One important man changes another, who changes another and so on and so forth.  As the critical mass is reached, the favorable outcomes attract to these persons like gravity.  I would never have guessed that the one they call Aramek would have survived the trials thus far, but he did and in so doing brought Strider and Eblis to him.  Is Aramek the one destined to destroy the Temple and rid the world of the Taint?  Most likely not, but maybe Eblis and Strider will be…Aramek; thus, has played his part by increasing the odds of our survival.  And yet how can anyone be sure that it is indeed Strider?  Could not Bandar be the one?  Perhaps…or perhaps Bandar will be the one to find that great champion…but then again no such person exists.  It is the collection of Eblis, Strider, Aramek, Bandar, and the future Champions of Flanaess that will slay the great evil.  No one man can change the course of our destiny…no…it will be the will of many that decide this outcome.  I fear that my writing has suffered as a direct consequence of sleep deprivation; however, I will allow this journal entry to survive…maybe the future readers can discern some form of logic from my meager ramblings.

-Mordenkainen, High Defender of Flanaess and Leader of the Circle of Eight_


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 17th, 747- “Even though you know a thousand things, ask the man who knows one.”*

Only after Monsette had made sure that he was nearly hoarse did he allow everyone proceed into the town.  The main road was fairly easy to spot; everyone trudged onward.  Although it was late in the night, Monsette did notice the familiar glow of torchlight not too far in the distance.  Within moments a young man dressed for battle intercepted them.  He had on a chain shirt and wore the raven’s tunic Monsette had seen in Zidendorf.  Although the man did not brandish his weapon, Monsette was clear on one thing: if he was provoked there would be a battle here.

“Gentlemen, how may I assist you,” the man spoke.  It was more a demand than a question.

“Could you tell us where we are?  It seems that we have lost our way,” Monsette replied in a raspy voice.

“This is the village of Vallaki.  What business do you have here?”

“We are here to speak with a local merchant by the name of Gunter Edel.  However, we are very tired at the moment and require lodgings for the night.  Could you recommend any places to stay?”

The tension visibly melted from the young man’s face.

“Come with me, I have just the place.  It is a quiet place called the Blue Water Inn.  The innkeeper is named Takoff…he is a good man.  Stay there the night and let me berth your horses.  I am the Watch Captain tonight, but it is almost the end of my shift anyway.

The young captain led the party through the streets of Vallaki.  For a village, it seemed rather large to Monsette.  The main road ended in the center of the village, where a great cobblestone plaza had been built.  The plaza was complete with a well, a small park, and most manner of shops anyone could conceive off…for a village, it seemed rich indeed.  As it was late, the captain had to wake Takoff from his slumber so that the party had an opportunity to acquire rooms.  The rooms were fairly steep for Monsette’s tastes, but it was better than freezing to death outside.  Takoff made no fuss about Raul being a Vistani and his wife even offered to take care of the baby for the night.  Everyone was so enamored with this show of generosity that even Monsette’s naturally paranoid behavior evaporated.

*_____________
October 18th, 747*

The next morning, Monsette awoke rather refreshed.  The rooms they had rented were simple, yet very cozy.  As he existed his room, Monsette found Raul playing with his baby in the company of Helga (Takoff’s wife).  Breakfast had already been laid out on the table, so Monsette politely obliged by taking a pastry and cup of coffee.  While he ate, he began to go over the events of the previous night in his mind.  _What did that man mean about “half-dead?”_

Sam and Shinlaiden joined him a little later in the company of an older gentleman.  The man was garbed in simple blue robes and almost completely bald.  As Sinlaiden and Sam sat down, so too did the old man.  Both of the warriors exchanged perplexed glances with each other and with Monsette.  The man didn’t hesitate to help himself to everything available on the table.  Monsette was just about to ask them man if he could help him, when he began to launch into a litany of questions.

“Came in last night, eh,” the man asked murmured.

“Yes, last night…we are travelers from a distant land,” Monsette replied smoothly.

“Distant land eh?  Where did you say that was again?”

“A small country far to the south…I’m sure you never heard of it.”

“Come, come.  Tell me the name.  I am a traveler as well, I am sure that I know it.”

“It is called…Gamoosh,” Monsette declared quickly.

“You’re right.  I never heard of it, which explains your funny accent.  I would have said that you were from Invidia, but there is something wrong with your pronunciations.  So what are you folks here for?”

“We came looking for a man called Gunter Edel.  Do you know him?”

“Of course I do.  Gunter is a good friend of mine.  Why one time-”

“Do you know where he is, I meant to say.”

“Well he did leave town a while back, but his daughter runs his store in the meantime.  Here name is Anya.  Beautiful girl she is.”

“I’m sorry, I never properly introduced myself.  My name is Monsette Dezerai.”

“Fezzini, at your service.  And may I give you folks some advice about Barovia?”

“Every little bit helps,” Monsette answered knowingly.

“This land is ruled by Count Strahd von Zarovich.  Is a ruthless man; a true tyrant…lives in Castle Ravenloft, a large keep overlooking a huge lake.  He only has two rules: don’t ever go to his castle uninvited and don’t ever harm a Vistani.  No one really much likes the Vistani, but anyone who harms them is executed.  The people in this town mind their own business, so don’t go poking around too much if you know what I mean.”

“Thank you Fizzini, you have been most helpful.”

Leaving Raul with Helga and Fizzini, Monsette took Sam and Shinlaiden to the shop Fizzini had described.  It wasn’t difficult to find as it was directly across the plaza.  It was a small shop, devoted mostly to common items useful for long journeys.  Anya was as Fizzini described her: beautiful.  Monsette nearly forgot was he was going to say, until Shinlaiden bumped into him in an attempt to enter the building.  While Monsette recovered his sense, he asked Shinlaiden to remain outside with Sam.  He then proceeded to strike up calm conversation with the lovely Anya.  From little dialogue Monsette was able to piece together a very important bit of information: namely that Gunter Edel had traveled to a festival in Karina…the capitol of Invida (the country the group had traveled from)!  In a fit of rage Monsette ran out of the store and began to punch a confused Shinlaiden in the chest.  Once he had calmed down Monsette reentered the store and began to explain the whole story of why he was in Vallaki.  Anya patiently sat there and listened to everything.  Monsette asked many questions of Anya: where Gunter was staying in Karina, what day he and his wife were married, what he looked like, what kind of nicknames did he have, who he was traveling with…and so on.  At first Anya was hesitant with the information as some of it was of personal nature, but Monsette assured her that this information was crucial to the group finding him and warning him of a possible assassination attempt.  Monsette was so persuasive that Anya granted him a hefty loan to save her father.  Still…Monsette wasn’t satisfied with the amount of information he had received…he needed to be sure.  Before heading back to the Blue Water Inn, Monsette visited the local baker (Petrov) and a rich merchant named Aressek…both knew Gunter and would be able to corroborate any information Monsette had.  Although both had nothing terribly interesting to say, Aressek let slip the fact that there was a ship about to set sail from Zidendorf.  The captain’s name was Timothy and if Monsette could catch it, he could make it to Karina in no time!

Dropping by the Blue Water Inn to pick up their things, the party said goodbye to Raul who had decided to stay in the village.  Raul suggested picking up a guide in a village called Berez; someone who might be able to secure safe passage through the woods to Zidendorf…if it was indeed Monsette’s intention to take a shortcut through the forest.

The trip down the Old Svitch Road was fairly uneventful.  Monsette and the rest of the party had no trouble locating Berez, as it was the only other village on the Old Svitch Road besides Vallaki.  Whereas Vallaki was near in stature to a small town, Berez was closer to a hamlet in size.  Only one large building graced this dirty, ragged community: The Boar’s Tavern.  As it’s name implied, it was mostly filled with disreputable men forced to hide from the reality of life with large quantities of ale…well it was mostly that way.  The rough tavern was typical…except for the dark armor-clad individual that no one would sit next to.  He was a very tall man, endowed with obvious physical strength.  His armor was freshly polished and decorated with many markings of a distinguished military officer.  Clasped to the armor was a rich blue cape and adorning his hands were thick leather gloves.  Covering his face was black hood with three red lines streaking across the face.  The man would occasionally lift the mask to sip at the small mug of tea in front of him.  No one dared to look in his direction, for the pale blue eyes that the mask did not hide were as cold as steel.

Summoning his courage and his entourage, Monsette walked calmly over to the intimidating warrior and asked if he could sit.  Without speaking the man motioned for the only other chair at his table.

“Hello good sir, my name is Monsette Dezerai and I as I am new to these parts I am need of assistance,” Monsette said through forced calm.

“What can I do for you Mr. Dezerai,” the man intoned coldly.

“Well, you see…my companions and I need to get to Zidendorf quickly, but the only obvious way to the town is on the Old Svitch Road.  Now if someone knew how to-”

“-navigate the forest, it would get you there much quicker,” the man finished smoothly.

“Yes…that’s right.”

“I happen to be going in that direction and I wouldn’t mind escorting you and your friends.  My name is Sullivan Dane,” the man said as he extended his gloved hand.

Monsette shook it vigorously with thanks and was willing to pay the man for his services, when Dane refused.  As it turned out Sullivan was a priest for a deity named Ezra.  The faith he described was very similar to Monsette’s and the two had a long theological discussion before setting out on the road.  Dane rode atop a large black war horse; an animal that seemed to fit him all too well.  The group rode in absolute silence, with Dane stopping every so often to get off his horse in order to allow it to rest.  All day and all night did the group travel until by divine intervention did they reach the town of Zidendorf without any encounters with the Children of the Night.  Monsette and the rest of the party were only able to stay awake through sheer fear of being devoured by evil…Dane had told them he had been hunting vampires a few days before, but that others might come to avenge them at any time…he coincidentally timed this story when it was too late to turn back onto the road.

*________
October 19th, 747*

The town of Zidendorf was a sight to see at sunrise.  True, he had cursed the town most of the way to Vallaki, but somehow it had changed from a thug-infested border town to bastion of hope!  With a bright smile plastered to his haggard face, Monsette and the rest of the party walked down to the docks in search of Captain Timothy.  As it turned out, he wasn’t a very hard man to find…his ship, “the Virgo,” and him were infamous in these parts.  He looked and talked like an old sailor…which wasn’t saying much for him as person.  Negotiations were slow going as he really didn’t want anyone on else on his ship.  Monsette had to agree to a hefty sum of money to get all the members of his group on the ship…and even still, Captain Timothy didn’t agree to allow any horses on.  This left Monsette with the task of selling the horses off at nearly half their price to the local merchants.  The only other passenger on the Virgo besides Monsette, Shinlaiden, and Sam was an alluring woman by the name of Miss Romaine.  She also claimed to be headed towards the festival.  Miss Romaine was a quiet and soft-spoken woman whose voice resembled crushed velvet.  Her scarlet dress clung to the contours of her body, testing Monsette’s powers of will.  The only way the priest was able to distract himself from the seductive woman was to listen to Captain Timothy’s racist remarks on the Vistani.  Apparently he had an endless supply of stories on Vistani cursing sailors and the consequences of such evil magic on their lives.  Monsette listened to the bigot drone on for hours before he had had enough.  Before going below deck to his “sleeping quarters” (the cargo hold floor), he took one more look back to see Shinlaiden and Sam staring up at the stars in the company of Miss Romaine.  Although neither Sam nor Shinlaiden could communicate in the local language it was interesting to watch them try.  Smiling to himself, Monsette went to bed…it was going to be one of those trips after all…


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## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 21st, 747- "He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword."*

Monsette watched the acres upon acres of vineyards wash by his vision as the Virgo approached Karina.  Captain Timothy was talking about something, but it couldn’t distract Monsette from the gorgeous view.  The leaves were beginning to change color…

“So I’ll be staying at the Black Swan if you are interested in REAL entertainment,” Captain Timothy announced.

His attention now diverted, Monsette began to ask about the city of Karina and where one could find the “Maiden’s Kiss.”

“That is far too expensive for my tastes…but since you asked…go down East Front Street to the Wine Garden until you hit Brewer Street…even you three can’t miss it,” Timothy said with a slight chuckle.

Entering the city with weapons proved to be rather expensive, but almost worth the economic impediment.  Everyone appeared to be joyous and merry.  No one was without a glass (or in some cases a bottle) of Karina’s finest wines as they danced through the streets adorned with colorful costumes and masks of interesting design.  Monsette was about to go explore a small stand selling interesting trinkets when Shinlaiden grabbed him roughly and pointed into the crowd.  The investigator couldn’t see anything at first, but after a few moments he spotted Vanyel in the throng of people!  Using Sam and Shinlaiden as human plows, Monsette pressed forward.  Grabbing Monsette, the group made for the nearest quiet area…which turned out to be Vanyel’s room (located in the Maiden’s Kiss).  As it turned out, Vanyel had no idea how he got in Karina, or even that any time had passed at all.  Right after he vanished into thin air, Vanyel remembered floating a void with a grey, white, and black orb.  The orbs told him that he would be tested and then he woke up in this Inn.  Needless to say Monsette wasn’t satisfied with this answer…

“The creature that kidnapped you said that you were ‘half-dead’…care to explain that,” Monsette said with a rather penetrating stare.

With a heavy sigh, Vanyel began to recount his tale.  

“Ever since I was a young boy I had been deemed “special” by all those around him.  I have powers that come naturally, beyond the arcane instruction the True Way have so generously donated.  I am attuned to the life energies around me; I feel the life in all living things.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before,” Shinlaiden demanded.

“I am your superior Shinlaiden…you need to know whatever I decide is necessary,” Vanyel said with a hint of irritation.

 Sam burst out laughing.

“We are fighting for our lives out here and you are still concerned with pulling rank,” Sam gasped between fits of laughter.  “We are finished out here!”

“Sam, we shouldn’t lose hope.  We are doing good deeds while looking for a way out of this situation,” Monsette declared in the hopes of diffusing the situation.

After checking into the Maiden’s Kiss, Monsette inspected the guest list for any signs of Gunter Edel.  Sadly, the man had checkout out of the Inn a few days ago.  Angry, Monsette decided to call it a day.  The rest of the night past quickly in slumber once every door and window was checked…with the addition of a secret passcode only known to the party…

*___________
October 22nd, 747*

In the morning Monsette saw his reflection in the wash basin smile wickedly back at him.  The day pretty much started the way it ended…badly.  A pipe full of tobacco later the group was off looking for Gunter Edel.  The search party consisted of Sam, Shinlaiden and Vanyel.  Monsette wanted to stay behind in the off chance that Gunter would come back.

The excursion party seemed to do more sightseeing than searching.  Karina was indeed a beautiful city; the huge clock in the center of the city was testament to the creativity of the people.  Nestled between two rivers, Karina seemed to have mild weather at any given time of the day…the drawback was that the humidity produced fog.  Vendors littered the streets, making it difficult not to sample many of the wines available.  People from all over the realms were at the Festival: Borkans, Barovians, Falkovians, and even merchants as far as Dementlieu.  The only contrast to this joyous occasion was that for some reason gallows had been erected in the middle of the main plaza of the city.  Further inquiry revealed that at the completion of the Festival, prisoners were to be executed.

Sam, Vanyel, and Shinlaiden returned to the Inn empty handed and a bit inebriated.  Getting anywhere in the city was difficult because of the sheer number of people in the streets.  Luckily everyone made it back without injury, even after an arrogant nobleman attempted to ride the party down because they did not move quickly enough for his tastes.  Shinlaiden and Sam rested a bit before Monsette switched places with Vanyel…More searching and questioned revealed little, if not the layout of the city.  The city seemed constructed around the great plaza housing the clock.  To the east lay Brewer street, with its rich shops, eloquent minstrels, and lovely cafés.  To the west lay what people referred to as the Maze…it was an extremely poor section of town, inhabited with prostitutes, street thugs, and other degenerates society had to offer.  Directly south of the Maze was the Falkovian Quarter.  Apparently Falkovian merchants were able to purchase an entire section of the city together.  Where the Maze was chaos, the Falkovian Quarter was absolute law.  Apparently the Falkovian merchants brought some soldiers from their home country to ensure that none of their goods were “liberated” by the local populous.  In the center of the Quarter stood a small fortress with a flag bearing the symbol of a hawk on it.  The locals described the Falkovians as cold and ruthless disciplinarians...no one with half a brain would antagonize such people.  Monsette made a quick appraisal of the environment: “east part of town nice, west part of town bad.”

While staying on the pleasant side of the city, the party the party was privy to many wonderful sights and sounds of the Festival.  The day was not completely without its brush with reality; however.  While through the Wine Garden, the band noticed a duel break out between two important members of a wedding: the man to be married and what appeared to be the “Best Man.”  The fight was quick and brutal, with both men dying instantly after drawing blood…Monsette didn’t need to be an alchemist to know that poison was at fault.  That wasn’t the strangest part…during the fight a woman approached Sam as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  Between the screams of horror and rage, the woman began to flirt with him!  Monsette agreed that she was well beyond the bounds of gorgeous, but he refused to let Sam endanger his vows of chastity over a woman.  Monsette explained the reason for Sam’s inability to speak: mental retardation.  The priest of Viminau, sworn to the pursuit of the truth, told the fair maiden that Sam couldn’t speak because a donkey had kicked him in the head when he was a boy.  Needless to say that the woman didn’t stick around for much longer once she was presented with that piece of information.  

Sam was about to ask why it was that the woman left when he noticed Shinlaiden staring down a man in the crowd.  It was the very same noble that had nearly run down the party earlier in the day!  Cracking his knuckles, the 6’ bruiser strode forward with purpose.  Stopping two inches in front of the noble, Shinlaiden simply stood menacingly.  The noble seemed no stranger to fights, because his eyes bore right into Shinlaiden’s skull.  Things might have gotten out of hand had Monsette not intervened with soothing words for both men.  The priest was so successful; in fact, that the noble invited the party into the nearest tavern for a drink.  Ordering Sharp (local ale), the noble sat down with the members of the party.

“I can tell that you men are foreigners from your manners.  Frankly I don’t care where you’re from or what you are doing here.  My name is Matton Blanchard and I have invited you here to offer you a very important job,” the man said contemptuously.

Before anyone could respond to the man’s “offer,” he continued on unabated.

“A woman of great importance was recently kidnapped by a she named the “Gentlemen Caller.”  I have found out that she is being held captive in a mansion not far from Karina.  The man who holds her is evil beyond understanding, which is why I will pay you five gold marks per day to find and return her to me.  There is some entertainment scheduled tonight at a warehouse in the Falkovian Quarter…if you want the job, meet me there at the stroke of midnight.”

Leaving the tavern in a contemplative mood, Monsette directed the party back towards the “Maiden’s Kiss.”  The group was about to turn down Brewer Street when they heard a barker hail them.

“Brave the ghosts of the past for a modest fee,” the man challenged.

He was instantly recognizable as a Vistani from his dark skin tone and colorful clothing.  He stood next to a large wooden box with a curtain hanging over the face.  An exotic bird was perched on top of the box, squawking at the pedestrians passing by.

“Come…it is safe,” the man encouraged.

Monsette was really in no hurry to get back to the Inn and it seemed that Shinlaiden was in need of some entertainment, so he sanctioned the immense warrior to give it a try.  Logically speaking, Monsette didn’t really know what a box with a curtain over it could really accomplish in the way of entertainment.  From the look of its depth, it would appear that Shinlaiden would only be able to walk in and out…if barely.  Shinlaiden stepped into the box and the Vistani closed the curtain behind him.  Sam and Monsette starred at one another with looks of confusion for a few minutes and then went back to watching the box.  _What could he be doing in there that could take this long?_  It was then that his questions were answered.  Shinlaiden fell out of the box on the verge of tears; he looked like an emotional wreck, but he was physically fine.

“What have you done to my friend,” Monsette demanded.

“The help you need can be found at Vulpwood…if you have the courage,” the man replied just before slipping inside the box and disappearing altogether.

Trying to drag the troubled Shinlaiden back to the Inn was difficult.  His eyes were wide with fear and he kept yelling about how he was a dead man.  Monsette waited until they got back to the Inn before questioning the poor man about what happened.  Recounting the tale was slow going, because Monsette was barely able to piece together the fragments of fear Shinlaiden was experiencing.  To the best of his ability, Monsette managed to get this out of Shinlaiden’s incomprehensible story: the were-panther that had attacked him back in Invidia was somehow contained in that box.  This was impossible as Shinlaiden barely fit in the box, not to mention that no sound was emitted the entire time Shinlaiden was inside.  However, according to the story he had fought with it inside and managed to wrestle it to the ground somehow.  In a fit of rage, he snapped its neck…or so he thought.  When he looked down again it was himself he was holding and his neck that was snapped…very disturbing indeed.  Monsette would have continued to try and piece things together had not Raul burst into the Inn’s common room!

The Vistani looked haggard, like he had run all day and all night with no rest in-between.  Dashing over to the table the party was sitting at, he sat down quickly…a wild look in his eyes.  Before he could speak, Monsette spoke:

“Raul, mind telling me how you got here?  Never mind the fact that you don’t have Nikki with you.”

“Nikki is back at the camp with my people in Vulpwood!  The Mists transported me somehow from Barovia in order to fetch you for the Zarovin clan.  They are the oldest tribe of the Vistani people and they summoned me here to get you!  You must come quickly,” Raul said out of breath.

No one wasted anytime talking, they just acted.  Within minutes, they were heading towards Vulpwood completely ready for anything that could possibly happen.  

The group was heading towards the North Gates on the High Road when Vanyel and Monsette heard “Watch out!” from directly in front of them.  People had only seconds to react to the oncoming barrels.  The driver of the cart was thrown out of his seat as his horses went wild and bolted down the street.  His cargo unfortunately was casks of heavy liquid that were hurtling towards children playing in the street.  Everyone reacted at once.  Shinlaiden ran towards the kids while Sam tried to stop the horses from trampling any other innocents.  The burly man did manage to save one child from injury, but he could not rescue the other from a broken leg caused by the heavy barrel.  As soon as the danger was over, the parents of the children ran up to Shinlaiden and Monsette to retrieve them.  Everything instantly went back to the way it was…like no one had seen anything.  Monsette was livid!  _The driver of the cart nearly killed two innocent children and he didn’t even apologize for his negligence!_  Monsette was about to grab the nearest pedestrian and demand what was going on when he spotted a child scowling at him from across the street.  He was obviously a noble of some sort from the way he dressed: black and white finery.  All time seemed to slow...the boy and the man simply looked at one another.  A group of revelers unconcerned with the chaos passed between them laughing…once they had passed, the boy was gone.  Monsette continued to stare at the spot where the boy was.

“What should we do Monsette,” Raul asked.

“Nothing…no one cares anyway,” Monsette replied sourly.

The group moved quickly to make up for lost time.  _I want answers!  This had better be worth it!_


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## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session One – “A DRAGON?  ALREADY?!?”*

“News?  Strange things have been going on.  Why, just yesterday, a huge pack of wolves carried off all our children!  Then Bigby himself showed up to take possession of the castle on that hill for his own personal use, and an evil dragon came rampaging through town eating only people who had black hair..."

The bartender’s dripping sarcasm stunned Strider.  All he had asked the woman was if there was any news in the quiet little town of Hommlet, and she’d rolled her eyes and launched into that litany of tall tales.  _What’s her problem?_

Just after cleaning out the Forge near Blasingdale, Strider, Eblis, Aramek, and Bandar had received summons signed by an undersecretary of Mordenkein to go to Hommlet.  Aramek had decided to take care of some business and catch up to the group later, saying “Bah, wu’ll be fightin’ side by side soon ‘nuff.”  

The other three followed Mordenkein’s directions, though no explanation about the summons was provided.  Throughout the ten-day journey, silent helpers provided them with fresh horses, and their lodgings and fares were all pre-paid.  Someone wanted them in Hommlet, and fast.

Which is why their welcome made no sense.  Nobody in the sleepy, homely town gave the trio further directions.  Hommlet was ordinary, peaceful, friendly, and boring.  What now?

Strider showed the sarcastic bartender his summons from Mordenkein, and Bandar produced his copy as well.  The poor woman’s nasty tone faded into silence as she read the notice.  Showing it to her didn’t help much, because she was so stunned that all she could do is gape at Strider.  Apparently she hadn’t heard about the summons…

The guards at the castle were not too helpful, either.  They said they would pass word to Rufus and Bern, the reclusive rulers of Hommlet, but the group waited the rest of the day without hearing anything.

What was going on?
--------------------------------------- 

A walking suit of full plate armor came into town from the North, covered by a thick cloak.  The suit walked up to the Temple of Pelor and knocked.  The acolyte who answered did not recognize the armored man who lifted the face guard and claimed to be Lathandar, a cleric of Pelor.  High Priest Yethir came and listened to the newcomer’s brief story, noting Lathandar’s gorgeous, almost feminine face and serious tone.  Lathandar had summons from Mordenkein to proceed to Hommlet for an unknown reason.  Yethir knew nothing of the summons, but allowed Lathandar to stay at the Temple as long as he performed his share of chores.  The somber cleric agreed and did as he was told, praying to Pelor during his spare time.

---------------------------------------

A strange but beautiful elven woman sauntered into Hommlet, seeming to know her way there though she had never seen the town before.  She wore provocatively tight black leather that hugged her lovely form and exposed plenty of skin.  Her hair, lipstick, eyeshadow, and nail polish all were pitch black, which tended to unsettle normal folk she met.  Around her neck clung her ferret Slim, and she carried a longsword and bow. 

After poking around Hommlet, seeming to reacquaint herself with her surroundings, the elf found a grove of trees near the castle and ventured into it.  A young man and a wolf confronted her as she trespassed, but she easily won over the wolf using her familiarity with animals.  Introducing herself as Merkaeytl Thelandria, she put the young man named Yundi off guard with her direct manner.  Learning that a druid named Jaru owned the grove, she asked for him, and soon the old man arrived, put out by the disturbance.

Merk wasted no time in grilling Jaru about the foremost topic on her mind – the latest news on the Moathouse and Temple.  Jaru bristled at her attitude and probing questions, but she did learn that the Jaru and the two men who lived in the castle, Rufus the warrior and Bern the wizard, had been part of the group that had destroyed the evil in the Temple twenty years ago.  The old druid had retired from adventuring and had no current knowledge of the Moathouse and Temple, and had no interest in finding out.  Jaru then shooed Merk out, telling Yundi not to let anyone into the grove without his permission.

Merk wandered back toward the street and saw a handsome man emerge from the Welcome Wench Inn, and with her usual subtlety, shouted “Hey!  You!”

Strider turned and noticed the gothic elf.  Full of curiosity and drawing himself up to his full height, he approached.  The two introduced themselves and took stock of each other, having a conversation that was half-inquisitive and half-flirting.  Strider showed Merk his letter from Mordenkein explaining why he was in town, eliciting a scornful laugh from the elf, who’d been alive too long to believe anyone even mentioning the great wizard.  _But if there is evil in the Temple again, maybe Mordenkein would summon adventurers such as Strider_…Merk caught Strider’s ears with snippets of knowledge about the Moathouse, demonstrating that she had hints about what was going on and could be valuable.  Strider asked Merk to dinner at the Inn in the evening so they could discuss this matter more, and she acknowledged his invitation with a playful smile.

Merk had a way with some people, but not with others.  She entered the Inn and rented a room.  She talked with the bartender Meridisan over the terrible, screeching ‘music’ that a flamboyant elven minstrel named Redethador was playing to the nearly deserted room.  A man sitting and drinking an ale seemed to be physically pained by the bard’s howling, but the other patron, a small gnome, actually seemed to be enjoying the performance!  Quickly reaching the end of her rope, Merk screamed “SHUT UP!” at the minstrel, who immediately stopped, looking at her in outrage.  One thing led to another – Merk described exactly how bad the elf’s music was, he challenged her to a duel, and the next thing they knew, they were both outside, taunting each other and getting ready to throw daggers in a duel.

The touchy Redethador bemused Merk, and she felt no regret over telling him exactly how bad his music was.  When he declared they would march five paces and then turn and throw, Merk prepared to knock him out when his back was turned.  The town militia put a stop to her fun, pouring out of the building next to the Inn in heavy armor, led by a scarred and grim man who ordered their weapons down.  Both elves continued to taunt one another as they laid down their arms, each trying to get in the last word.  The militia master, Elmo, threatened to throw them both out of town if there was another disturbance.  Redethador soon stalked off in a huff, and Merk pushed her way back into the Inn.

Merk topped even herself shortly thereafter, telling the friendly innkeeper Vesta to “shut up,” and being completely banned from the Inn.  _I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but at least I got my deposit back.  That throws a kink into my plans…_

The cocky elf wandered over to Elmo’s building, where the experienced fighter sat in his office with his boots on the table.  One of his eyebrows raised as she entered, but he became friendly after she started asking about the details of guarding Hommlet.  Seeing Strider returning from his run, she called him in, and both adventurers chatted with Elmo about the Moathouse and Temple.  Apparently, he had helped clean out the Moathouse twenty years before but hadn’t explored the Temple, and as far as he knew there was nothing in either place any more.  However, none of his town patrols got close to either site, and the retired heroes of the town showed no interest in learning if anything was living in those places.  Strider and Merk agreed to meet the next morning and travel to the Moathouse to see if anything was going on, and parted ways.

At dinnertime, Strider sat down with Eblis and Bandar and reviewed what they had learned that day.  As they quietly discussed their plans for going to the Moathouse, the flamboyant Redethador approached their table, clearly expecting an invitation to sit.  Awkwardly, Strider asked him to join their table.  The trio soon found that the elven minstrel took offense easily at imagined slights, and was very emotional.  Lacking any subtlety, Redethador told the group that he has all sorts of tales of the adventurers who destroyed the Moathouse and Temple, which caught their attention.  Shortly thereafter Redethador, oblivious to the group, was nearly in tears because the Moathouse is mere rubble these days.  He sighed, bemoaning the lack of a great struggle against evil where he might play a central role and be sung of forever more in legends.  The group was beginning to tire of the elf’s rambling, interminable discourse.

Strider said “Redethador, things may seem quiet…on the surface.” He looked slyly at the bard and continued “But what if something is going on…_behind the scenes_…” he trailed off, looking at Redethador knowingly, assuming the minstrel would catch on to his joking manner.

Instead, Redethador grew suddenly very intrigued and very serious: “Behind the scenes…yes…something _behind the scenes_ might be going on…I see…” he intoned, fascinated by Strider’s suggestion.  

“Mwwfff!” the three adventurers barely suppressed their laughter.

“I shall investigate what is going on – _behind the scenes_!” Redethador said with a flourish, his stage whisper quite possibly audible to every individual in the noisy room.  Then he snuck out of the Inn, his eyes shifting back and forth, his cloak pulled cloak as if he were already outside and hiding from prying eyes.

“HA HA HA!” the table burst out laughing, scarcely believing that someone could be so naïve and so easily manipulated.  In between bouts of laughter, Strider wondered if there actually was something going on “behind the scenes” that someone as clueless as Redethador might stumble into and wind up dead.  _Could I have just doomed that foolish man?_ He thought, uneasily, but brushed the thought aside.

The three adventurers slept overnight in rooms at the Inn.  Accustomed to living in the forest, Merk found a nice tall tree and went to sleep on one of its branches, comfortable as possible.  
---------------------------

After breakfast, Eblis announced that he had “things to work out” and wouldn’t be joining the others for an exploration of the Moathouse.  Strider and Bandar accepted this excuse with curiosity, and went out of the Inn.  They soon found Merk, no longer as stunning because she wore bulky leather armor for the journey.

Just at that moment, Lathandar emerged from the Temple of Pelor, having just learned from High Priest Yethir that other individuals had Mordenkein’s summons to Hommlet.  He could easily identify the trio as strangers to the area and approached them, introducing himself very formally.  The others invited him to go to the Moathouse, and he accepted, having them wait until he suited up for the journey.  Lathandar wore his shimmering suit of full plate and carried a strange box, as well as his weapons.

The Moathouse was a full day’s journey from Hommlet – the group struck out at daybreak and reached there before sunset.  The only person they ran into was a trapper named Odel, who claimed to have seen walking dead, strange priests, and a dragon around the Moathouse, and warned the party to stay away.  _Maybe it isn’t abandoned_.

Lathandar opened his curious box, which contained holy texts inside, and he sat down to pray for thirty minutes, with little explanation.  Once he was done, impatient Merk asked whether he’d be doing that often, to which Lathandar icily replied “I stop everything for God.  What is more important than God?”  Surprised, Merk backed off.

As the shadows grew long, the four adventurers approached the ruined Moathouse.  Its towers and roofs were caving in, walls crumbling, and nothing seemed to stir.  The swampy moat around the place limited them to entering through the front gate.  As the party neared the drawbridge, they spotted something round and greenish hidden in the reeds.  While the others readied their weapons, Strider stealthily neared the object.  The huge frog that reared up caught him by surprise, and in an instant its tongue shot out and wrenched him bodily to its razor-sharp teeth.

Strider’s longsword was useless at close-quarters, so he drew his shortsword and dagger and slashed at the creature, inches from a horrible bite.  Lathandar rushed forward to help, soon joined by Bandar as Merk shot at the frog from afar.  Strider took the brunt of the monster’s attacks as the group slowly wore it down. Finally the beast collapsed, dead, and the group heaved a sigh of relief.  Lathandar healed Strider, and the group cautiously entered the Moathouse.

Immediately apparent was the streak of dried blood proceeding from their spot, all the way across the courtyard and up the main steps into a large room some distance away.  Merk and Strider silently explored the immediate area for any dangers, and once they determined all was safe, Merk told the rest about what creatures had resided in those places when the last group had cleaned out the Moathouse.  She apparently has studied with some elf who had adventured with the prior group, and had told Merk all about their exploits.

Strider and Merk explored the tower to the right of the entrance and found that the coast was clear, so Lathandar and Bandar entered behind them.  As the two in the vanguard moved down the hallway, followed closely by their friends, their world erupted in light and pain.  An instant later, Bandar lay unconscious; Lathandar and Strider stood burnt and shocked; Merk’s quick instincts had saved her, so she remained unscathed.  

The party members’ brains caught up with events, and those still able leapt behind the closest wall as the blue dragon down the hall chuckled and approached.  [Player’s aside: I’ve been playing AD&D for eight years and never dreamed of sending an _adult dragon_ against a group of four fourth-level characters!  Even though we’re very experienced players, eight of our PC’s died in the Sunless Citadel and Forge of Fury.  Now our DM throws a DRAGON at us?  Oh, how I hate him.]

Strider and Merk scampered away from the monster, firing at it ineffectively as it easily pinned Lathandar.  Merk continued to shoot in desperation, but Strider understood what the dragon was telling them – he threw down his weapons and held up his hands.

“Alright, you win!  What do you want from us in exchange for getting our friends back and leaving you alone?” he called out.

Bemused, the creature stoked a claw across Lathandar’s face, and answered, “Give me all your valuables and I’ll let you and your _friends_ go.”

Minutes later, all the party’s treasures from past adventures were in the dragon’s possession, including gems, money, potions, scrolls, and magical armor and weapons.  Strider retrieved Bandar’s charred body, and Lathandar was freed after he stripped off his beautiful armor.  

The blue dragon remained in good humor throughout the group’s humiliation, urging them to kill the “pesky little holy men” who resided in the dungeon levels of the Moathouse.  He warned the party not to try to bring a band to kill him because “You won’t win,” he confidently announced.  As a parting shot, the arrogant creature offered to have the group stay the night.  “I’ll cook!” he joked, roaring with laughter, “Get it?”

Slinking away in shock and defeat, the dragon’s laughter echoing in their ears, the band recouped briefly.  Lanthandar healed Bandar back into consciousness, and the others briefly explained what had happened.  The dwarf thanked them somberly, shame-facedly.  _After vowing to free others who suffer in slavery as I did, I disgrace myself by needing to be saved again._

The party trudged back to Hommlet through the night, not speaking to one another, each immersed in dark thoughts.  Strider and Bandar had to wake Vesta to get into their rooms, while Merk found her tree and Lathandar returned to the Temple of Pelor.  _A poor first attempt at the Moathouse – we lost everything and barely stayed alive!_ Strider thought as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
-------------------
Coming together after breakfast, the party members, joined by Eblis, debated what to do next.  

Merk announced “We should tell the town leaders – they’ve all crushed evil before, and they certainly can’t ignore a dragon and evil priests next door!  We can’t face that dragon alone without lots of experienced help.”  

Strider spoke up “Notifying the authorities won’t help us.  They either already know about the dragon and haven’t done anything about it, or they’ll learn about it and not care.  They haven’t been helpful so far.”

Merk: “You don’t want to raise the alarm that there’s a dragon in the area?  We could save their lives, and what ruler wouldn’t find that information helpful?  What’s the worse that could happen?”

Strider:  “We don’t know what’s going on, it’s best not to go telling everyone what we’ve seen and done.  It could be dangerous.”

Lathandar:  “We can return and go through the dragon’s lair to get at the evil priests, as it offered.  It might give us our equipment back, it seems set on getting rid of the priests.  I must get my armor back.  It’s _extremely_ important to me.”

Merk:  “You’re going to negotiate with a dragon?  It’ll let you do its dirty work by killing the priests, then take all the treasure we get and kill us as well!”

Lathandar:  “It’s a choice of greater evils: priests and their undead, or a powerful dragon whom we know is willing to abide by an agreement.  He could’ve killed us and taken all that we had, but he didn’t.”

Bandar:  “There must be a back entrance to the lower levels of the Moathouse – the priests can’t possibly have to get past the dragon every time they have to get out or in.  Then we wouldn’t have to negotiate with the dragon and worry about him holding up a deal.  We can’t fight him and win.”

Merk and Strider debated the merits of talking to the authorities or not.  After Eblis pointed out that they could not divine what the town’s leaders were thinking or what they would do, the group eventually sided with Merk, and Strider conceded.  

They went to the castle and asked to see Rufus or Bern, or both, about an urgent matter.  No matter how much they argued and warned, the captain of the guard permitted them only to relay a message, which they did. The group talked some more and decided that they should take on the dragon with as much help as they could muster

As the party waited for Rufus and Bern’s response, Merk tried to recruit Jaru and later Elmo, using all the powers of persuasion she possessed.  Neither budged.  Jaru got angry and said “I really don’t care what’s over there, and neither do Rufus and Bern.  We’ll deal with what comes when it comes.”  Merk soothed him as best she could, and eventually Jaru offered to send Yundi to help, if he wished to go.

Doubtful, Merk talked to Yundi and sensed that he was inexperienced, but she knew the group needed all the help they could get.  She did not paint a pretty picture about the upcoming battle, but she urged Yundi to come because the cause was good and he could be useful at the rear doing healing.  Yundi agreed.

Strider talked to the gnome and the man who hung around the Inn.  He found that the gnome was a cartographer seeking to map out the Moathouse and Temple, but had no skills in a fight and wouldn’t be too useful against a dragon.  He did recruit Chatrelan, the bald human warrior who was looking for such a challenge.  He also convinced Eblis to join the group.  Although no response came from Rufus and Bern, the party was now a sizable group, their minds focused on the upcoming fight.
----------------------
The next morning Strider, Merk, Lathandar, Bandar, Eoblis, Yundi, and Chatrelan set off for the Moathouse.  They discussed many different plans of battle before settling on one.  Everyone who had helpful spells would cast them on Strider, who would hopefully corner the dragon in its lair so it couldn’t fly, or in the trees where he could entangle it with growth.  As they neared the Moathouse at dusk again, Lathandar cast all his best spells on Strider, including _bless, magic weapon, protection from evil, shield of faith, aid, bull strength_, and _resist lightning_.  He bound his lifeforce with Strider’s using _shield other_.  They were set to go.

The group wanted to catch the dragon in its lair, but instead found it waiting for them in the courtyard of the Moathouse.  Quickly adapting the plan, Strider charged forward, hoping to catch its breath weapon with his protective spell still activated.  Merk ran as fast as she could to the side, quickly arriving in the beast’s lair, arriving at its rear.  The others fingered their weapons or readied spells.

The blue dragon beat its wings, hovering in the air and driving the dust in the courtyard to swirl around it, effectively blinding everyone.  From then on, the dragon could use its blindsight to hit whomever it wished despite the cloud, while the party was lucky to unleash spells or arrows in the right area.  _I hate smart dragons!_  Strider thought, running to where it had been and slashing with his enchanted weapons.  He connected and was pleased with the pained roar in reply.

Over the next minute, Strider and the Dragon ripped into each other as the others tried to help.  Everything rested on Strider – if he died, the dragon could kill the others without much of a problem.  As Merk flailed around with her longsword behind the dragon, Chatrelan and Eblis fired their bow in the dragon’s direction.  Bandar used his powerful  mind to mentally pummel the dragon, sending waves of force to it every few seconds, which took their toll.  Lathandar set vials of oil on fire and threw them at the dragon, but his main function was to share Strider’s pain and suffering through the shield other spell.  Yundi stood by Lathandar and healed him frequently, greatly aiding the party.

Strider hacked at the dragon, occasionally missing, but often goring it horribly, although he could not see.  The beast raked him with its claws and mauled him with its teeth, until he was on the verge of collapse.  Having fought more furiously than he ever had in his life, Strider was horrified that the creature was still alive, and he was grimly certain that his death would mean the death of all.  With his last remaining strength, he slashed at the dragon, only to find that the dust was settling.  The monster had flown off!  He sunk to the ground in total exhaustion and relief.

The group postponed its celebration until it got into the dragon’s lairs and secured the entrances as best it could.  They retrieved their equipment that the dragon had taken.  However, there was no treasure horde, and Lathandar’s magnificent armor was nowhere to be found.  The bodies of two priests of some rare and evil cult lay on the floor, the source of the blood across the courtyard.  Nothing was in the adjacent rooms on the first level, but there was a stairwell down.  [Player’s note: Sometimes the toughest fights have the least award – no treasure, _and only 217 experience per person!_  Reference above note about how I hate my DM.]

The group returned to Hommlet with their heads held high.


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*October 22nd, 747- “We all labour against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases.” -Sir Thomas Browne*

With their heads held high, the party walked into Vulpwood. The forest in question was barely a few miles north from Karina, but everyone still remained tense as soon they left the safety of the stone walls the city provided. Raul seemed to have a good indication of where he was going, as he guided everyone through the dense deciduous forest.  Shinlaiden remarked on the abundant wildlife, something that was nonexistent in the dark woods of Barovia. The attempt to lighten the mood was earnest, but unfortunately everyone was too deep in thought to embrace such emotion. After a good bit of walking, the forest began to thin out and eventually reveal a clearing.  Within this clearing stood a circle of wagons not unlike the one Raul used in their first encounter...although these seemed to be much more elaborate in design. Campfires gave off warmth and light within the circle...just enough to notice two figures standing infront of the wagons: the Vistani the party had encountered in Karina and an elderly woman!

Before the party even closed the distance, Shinlaiden was running towards the man with a look of hatred in his eyes. Sam and Raul had only seconds to react before the great warrior attacked the Vistani with his bare hands.  Luckly, the combined effort of Sam and Raul's body weights was enough to bring the behemoth to the ground. Restraining him was a bit more difficult and consequently required the physical strength of Monsette as well as the soothing words of Vanyel. Once the anger from Shinlaiden had subsided, Raul began to apologize profusely to the old Vistani woman. During the litany Raul gave, Vanyel was picked up the names of both of the mysterious figures: Vincenzo and Madame Eva. Neither one of them seemed to be concerned with Shinlaiden's blatant act of violence; in fact, Madame Eva waved the attempt on Vincenzo's life away as she would a pesky fly.

With some short introductions from the party, Madame Eva invited everyone inside the circle of wagons to the revelries contained within. Vistani danced around the fires to the sound of Raul's violin. Monsette noticed over 20 wagons (Raul's included) and 5 campfires. As the party approached the fires, the investigator began to flesh out Madame Eva's features...it was obvious from her wrinkled flesh that she was very old; however, her eyes betrayed a hunger for life that Monsette had not seen before. Not the hunger of youth, but the one of the wise man who had too much to do before his time expired. Once everyone was seated and with drink, Madame Eva whispered something to Vincenzo that not even Monsette's keen ears picked up.

"It is time for the _Daroq_," she said solemnly.

A look of confusion passed over the party as they were completely unfamiliar with the customs of the Vistani. As they began to question what Madame Eva had said, another woman by the name of Marsella, supported by Vincenzo, made her way to the campfire the party was seated at. She was young and attractive woman, but her eyes seemed glazed over. It was as if she was not looking at anyone now, but some far off place that only she could see. As soon as she was seated, she 
began to speak in a melodious voice.  

It was a story of a mother in need and a treacherous daughter…the story of Gabrielle Aderre, a Vistani woman cursed by her own evil.  After watching her mother die from a mortal wound inflicted by a werewolf, the Vistani woman wondered the Realms and finally arriving in Invidia.  Using her powers of seduction, Gabrielle was able to weaken the previous ruler, a tyrant named Barkolis, and slay him in his sleep.  As the new ruler of Invidia, Gabrielle enjoyed much power afforded by the position…power, which she exploited much as the former ruler to harm the people of Invidia.  Then, one day all of that changed when the great seductress was enchanted by a man she called the “Gentleman Caller.”  It wasn’t long before the “Gentleman Caller” disappeared, leaving Gabrielle with child.

“It is this child that the Zarovan clan is concerned with,” Madame Eva interrupted.  “He is the _Dukkar_…a creature of evil beyond your comprehension.  You must find this creature for us…it is our responsibility to deal with it.”

“What of our needs,” Monsette retorted.  “Why should we risk our lives in pursuit of this…_Dukkar_?”

“What is you wish for _Giorgio_,” Madame Eva asked.

“First, we want to know how to remove a curse that was placed upon us.  Second, we want to know how to cure lycanthopy.  Finally, we seek knowledge in the Occult,” Monsette recited.

“This is fine,” Madame Eva said impatiently.

“Could you tell us more about the creature,” Vanyel interjected.  “Can it assume different forms?  I am also curious why is it that you have selected us for this task.”

“As far as we know, the _Dukkar_ cannot change shape.  The reason you were selected was the fact that you can pass easily through Karina and the surrounding area.  The creature can sense Vistani…this makes it very difficult to find it.”

“What of the Mists,” Monsette said intently.

“That subject is not to be discussed,” Madame Eva hissed.

“Why not,” Monsette demanded.  “It is the Mists that brought us here and they can get us home.  I want to know what is going on right now!  We were brought here and soon thereafter cursed by a ghost…I want to know how to fix these this!”

Calmly allowing the angry investigator to vent, Madame Eva simply watched him from across the fire.

“The Mists brought you here…for what purpose I do not know.  The curse is your fault.  You wished to save Raul against his wife…noble, but foolish.  I have a proposition: find the _Dukkar_ and you will be rewarded.  If you don’t like what I offer that is your own problem,” Madame Eva intoned calmly.

“I am through with your riddles and your games,” Monsette screamed.  “Find this thing yourself for all I care!”

Bolting up, Monsette began to stomp away from the camp.  Vanyel and the others were soon upon him inquiring what had just happened.  Both Shinlaiden and Sam did not have a good grasp on the language yet, so the events had to be explained to them…the facts did not please Sam.

“You did WHAT?!” Sam was enraged beyond the belief.  “That was the only chance we had to get home and you THREW IT AWAY!  You FOOL!  I can’t believe that they put you anywhere near the concept of responsibility back in Nymbardax.”

“Be careful Sam, I am still your commanding officer out here,” Monsette warned.

“Oh yes sir, how could I forget?  May I polish your boots sir?  I am at your command.  Can I fetch your pipe?”  Sam’s voice dripped of sarcasm.

Both men then stalked off in opposite directions…Vanyel went after Monsette and Shinlaiden went after Sam.

“Hold on Monsette,” Vanyel called.

Stopping a few paces away, Monsette began to fervently stuff tobacco in his pipe.

“That IMBECILE,” Monsette yelled.

“He is just high-strung…you have to apologize to him to fix things.”

“I will do NO SUCH THING!”

“Come…let’s talk about it back at the Inn,” Vanyel spoke softly.

The two walked back towards the town, discussing how to reign their subordinates under control.  Monsette still wanted Sam back but only if he knew his place.  Vanyel attempted to explain that the environment was eating away at everyone…himself included.  Monsette still wasn’t convinced, but he listened nonetheless.  Back at the Inn both men engaged in a long debate on authority and the rights it had.  Monsette believed his power was absolute when men were entrusted to his command.  Vanyel, on the other hand, tended to think of Shinlaiden as man like any other…but he still agreed that it was better to keep the strong warrior under control…he had seen what the man was capable of in a fight.

Monsette was just about finished relaying the finer points of etiquette to Vanyel when his discussion was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass.  Looking up, he saw the bloodied body of Sam lying near the window.  Screaming erupted from all corners of the common room as people dashed out the door.  Monsette followed suit to intercept whatever had done this to Sam when he noticed a man out of the corner of his eye.  _It is him…Gunter Edel!  Not now!_  Monsette cursed as he saw his target being carried off by the crowd.  Not stopping to indicate his plans to Vanyel, Monsette rushed after him.  Forcing his way through the throng of people, Monsette followed Gunter Edel into an alley next to the Inn.  Rounding the corner, Monsette came upon his worst fear: Gunter Edel was face to face with the monster that had thrown Sam through the window.  The creature was over seven feet tall with jet-black fur.  It was cross between a man and a panther; it’s eyes glowed a malevolent green.  Rushing up to the monster and throwing Gunter aside, Monsette slashed into it with his sword.  The were-panther brought its forearm up to block the attack…the sword bit through bone and sinew, stopping halfway through the appendage.  The monster merely roared with stronger ferocity.  Backing away in fear, Monsette watched as the creature slowly approached him with a look of hatred in its eyes.  Fumbling with divine power, the priest of Viminau attempted to freeze the creature in place with enchantments…it did not work.  Monsette was saved by the sounds of the local Guard and the sight of many lit torches.  The creature, sensing danger, ripped the sword from its arm and leaped to the roof of the nearest building.  As the guards poured into the alley, Monsette began to give them instructions on how to defeat the creature while simultaneously retrieving the unconscious form of Gunter Edel.  

Dashing back into the Inn, Monsette lay Gunter Edel next to the bloodied form of Sam.  With little to no success in rejuvenating Sam (courtesy of the curse cast by Leyla), Monsette asked the guards to fetch for a local healer.  While the local herbalist was retrieved, Monsette and Vanyel worked to rekindle Gunter Edel’s dying flame.  Apparently the shock had been too much for his frail heart to handle.  The old man had stopped breathing and only through the combined divine efforts of Vanyel and Monsette did he begin to breathe again.  The healer did come in time to patch up Sam’s mutilated body.  With a few words to the guards, Vanyel and Monsette called that a night…well they went to their rooms armed to the teeth anyway.

* __________
October 23, 747 *

Shinlaiden awoke with a start.  He didn’t remember what happened…one minute he was talking to Sam and the next minute he was here.  _Where am I?_  Looking around, the great warrior found himself near stream in a heavily wooded area.  _This still must be Vulpwood._  Searching the area thoroughly, Shinlaiden found no trace of Sam anywhere.  His clothes were shredded, his sword belt torn, and his boots were in pieces.  Not understanding what had happened, Shinlaiden set out for Karina.  It was a long walk without footwear, but eventually he managed to haul himself back to the Inn.  The guards gave him reproachful glances, but this was a festival after all!

Upon arrival Monsette began the questioning with Vanyel’s help.  Shinlaiden tried to answer the questions as best he could, but he simply didn’t remember anything.  He did remember going after Sam and talking with him.  While they talked, he remembered feeling rather hot…odd since it was late fall.  His memories ended there.  Taking the warrior upstairs, Vanyel began to berate him in the presence of the unconscious Sam and Gunter.

“You will never go off without my permission again,” Vanyel ordered.  “You are under my command, do you understand?!”

Shinlaiden nodded sheepishly.  With his head bowed, Monsette noticed something that he hadn’t noticed before…it seemed as though there was a needle prick at the base of his neck.  It was too centered to be haphazard.  _Even the best shot in the world wouldn’t be able to land it in that spot._

“I would say that you were the were-creature that attacked us last night Shinlaiden if it weren’t for the fact that yesterday say a new moon, not a full moon,” Monsette remarked.

“His illness might not be normal lycanthropy…his might be a different infection,” Vanyel observed.

The two went on about any strange occurrences they had noticed with respect to Shinlaiden for some time, completely oblivious of the man’s presence.  After some time, the two decided to wake up Gunter Edel for some questioning.  The answers they received were troubling at best.  It seemed that the old man neither remembered where he was or his name.  When asked, he even managed to get the year wrong.  Vanyel was convinced that he was lying and was about to use more extreme methods of magical interrogation had not Monsette stepped in with a more gentle hand.  Monsette was not being charitable in any way; he was simply convinced that Gunter was the shapeshifting creature that had nearly killed them back in Valetta!  It took some more questioning before both men came to the conclusion that Gunter’s memory had been erased somehow…but most likely it was the doing of the evil force working against them or what Monsette classified as “the Bad Guys.”  Just to make sure, the men waited for Gunter’s traveling companion Carl to see if he could corroborate Gunter’s facts.  The men waited all day, but Carl never came back to check up on his friend…

* __________
October 24, 747 *

Monsette spent the day accomplishing many errands while Vanyel and Shinlaiden waited back in the Inn.  His first order of duty was to hire a local blacksmith to make huge chains and a lock to secure Shinlaiden should the desire to become a beast overtake him in the future.  His next stop was in the city prison to talk with the Lieutenant of the city guards.  He explained about the “hit-list” his party had found and left his contact information with the man should anything come up as it pertained to the investigation he was conducting.  Finally, using a messenger service, Monsette drafted a long letter to Gunter’s daughter explaining exactly what had happened.  The rest of the day was spent feeding Sam through the corner of his mouth.

* __________
October 25, 747 *

Monsette jolted awake with the sound he had so desperately been waiting to hear:

“Ow,” Sam whispered.

Everyone was awake in seconds, mostly through the efforts Monsette made in kicking everyone as hard as he could.

“I really am sorry,” Shinlaiden murmured.

“It’s not your fault.  I tried to warn you about the monster, but you feinted before I could speak out.”

“So you definitely saw both Shinlaiden and the were-creature at the same time,” Monsette asked pensively.

“Yes…I am sure of it,” Sam replied in a hoarse whisper.

Leaving Sam in locked room, Monsette and Vanyel went to investigate the area Shinlaiden claimed to have passed out in while talking to Sam.  It did take a while, but eventually their efforts were rewarded.  The patch of land was much as to be expected: the floor of a forest, littered with dead leaves.  However, a few hours of inspection revealed a small pile of blackened herbs.  Vanyel suggested that the herbs were used to cast a spell, but that theory was quickly discarded within minutes of examination.  Placing a small sample into a pouch, Monsette headed for the Vistani camp to set up a meeting.  Marsella and Vincenzo greeted him even before he reached the edge of the circle of wagons.  It was decided that within one hour the meeting would take place on neutral ground, so that no one would gain an advantage.  Monsette was elected to do the bargaining even with his tarnished record with the Vistani.

The meeting did proceed as planned.  Madame Eva, Marsella, and Vincenzo met Monsette, Vanyel, and Shinlaiden at the edge of Vulpwood.  There it was agreed that both sides gained with the following arrangements:

For the _Giorgio_: 1) information on were-creatures (enough to cure the infected Shinlaiden), 2) removal of the curse, and 3) a way home (at this point Monsette didn’t care about knowledge on the Mists themselves).

For the Vistani: the party would determine the location of the _Dukkar_ and immobilize it with a special item the Vistani would create for the party.  The party’s task was to find the _Dukkar_ and throw the object at it…their contract ended there.

While they deciphered the location of the _Dukkar_, the Vistani would begin the creation of the object in question with the help of Raul.

“Where do we start to look,” Monsette asked.

“Look for a man called _Scar_ in the Maze of Karina…or if you prefer, go to the “Dog Fights” your friend Captain Timothy generously invited you to,” the last words were uttered with a knowing smile by Madame Eva.

Monsette only had time to stand dumbfounded as the Vistani melted back into the forest…


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 2- “Third time is a charm…or is that fourth?”*

The adventurers stumbled into Hommlet late in the evening.  Everyone was extremely weary from the battle and the ensuing march back from the Moathouse.  Strider didn’t even bother to wave goodbye as Merk trudged towards her favorite tree…well it was a place to sleep anyway, as she was banned from the Inn.  While the strange elf climbed through the foliage of the great elm, her companions were greeted at the Inn with a warm plate of cookies.  Vesta, the compassionate woman who took care of the Inn in her father’s absence, had been thoughtful enough to leave a plate of cookies and three glasses of milk.  Chatrilon and Eblis wasted no time digging in, while Strider wrote a note to Vesta to thank her for the amazing generosity she had shown them.
--------------------------------------- 
Though the branches were a bit uncomfortable, Merk had suffered worse.  Her dreams were of slaying the Ogres that had constantly plagued her life.  Well she was pretty sure she was dreaming, but what did smoke have to do with killing Ogres?  Looking down from her perch in the trees, Merk was greeted by the sight of blazing wood.  Coming to her senses, Merk realized that there was no way to actually climb down the elm without burning to death so she decided to take a gamble and jump.  The ground rushed up to meet her faster than she expected and the breath was blasted from her lungs.  Bleary-eyed, Merk struggled to her feet...standing directly in front of her was a heavily armored human man with a serrated bastard sword in his hands.  The light from the fire poorly illuminated the man’s features, but the wicked scar on his face was obvious even in the darkness.  Not even bothering to wait for Merk to get her balance, the man attacked!  His sword strokes were brutal and fast, catching Merk off guard.  Eventually Merk’s feeble attempts at defense were futile as the man was able to nearly fell her in a single blow.  At that point, Merk chose the better part of valor and ran as fast as her legs would carry her.  Merk to an arrow in the back before she reached the nearest patrol.  Gasping, she relayed what had just happened to the members of the militia before slinking away in the shadows…eventually making her way to the Town Hall.  As she hid underneath the great oaken table in the center of the Hall, she heard Elmo’s familiar voice call out:

“I knew I would find you here.  Get out from under there for Pelor’s sake and let me have a look at you.”

Elmo was a battle-hardened warrior, unused to the subtlety of healing which was why Merk screamed out in horror and pain when he yanked the arrow out of her back.  Once she had gotten her breath back, Elmo grilled her for information about why the tree she was sleeping in was currently on fire…among other things.  Merk did her best to relay as many details as possible, but for some reason Elmo did not seem satisfied with what he heard.

“Wait here Merk, I think it is time we discussed what is really happening here.”

“Does this have something to do with the Moathouse,” Merk asked excitedly.  She hoped that Elmo would slip up and reveal some secret to her.

“This is more important than the Moathouse,” Elmo said as he left the Town Hall.

Within a few minutes, the party was assembled at the Town Hall…or at least most of it anyway, as Eblis did not answer the summons.  The elusive Rufus and Burne were also present, as well as Yether.  The High Priest tended to Merk’s wounds as Rufus spoke to the party.  He seemed to a man in his middle years, but still endowed with the strength his warrior’s history had provided him.

Rufus: “You may be wondering why it is that I am here with all the difficulties you had faced in trying to attract my attentions previously.  I am here because I am sure of who you are.  I was curious as to your objectives at first…many people come through Hommlet…good and bad.  It may have seemed harsh to send you against that dragon alone, but I had to know for sure.  Let me say without hesitation that I am truly impressed with your courage and virtues.”

Strider: “Could you tell us why we are here?  Why did Mordenkainen summon us here?”

Rufus: “I do not pretend to know the his agendas, but you are most definitely here out of coincidence.  For many years, Burne and I have kept our eyes on the Temple…we never doubted that somehow evil would find its way here.  Thus far nothing substantial has happened, but recently divination magic has been all but impossible in that area.  Burne informs me that magic beyond his understanding is shielding his attempts.  Anything could be happening at this very moment…my worst fear is that whatever force is blocking our _scrying_ is also amassing an army of considerable strength in order to attack Hommlet itself.  This is where we need your help.  As we need to send many able-bodied men to collect accurate intelligence on the Temple, we cannot go ourselves without putting the town in jeopardy.  I am asking you men to go and investigate what is happening.”

Lathandar: “We found this on one of the dead bodies at the Moathouse,” he said as he tossed the holy symbol on the table.

Yether gently picked it up and turned it over in his hands.  The priest made no attempt to mask his disgust.

Yether: “This is the symbol of Tharizdun, a dark and evil god.  Not much is known of him, but the _obex_ is his symbol,” the man spat.

Strider: “Before we do anything, I want to make sure that the Moathouse is completely safe…it is too close to Hommlet for us simply to ignore it.”

Rufus: “Good.  Then it is settled,” he said with a smile.

Merk: “The old adventuring party that defeated the Moathouse before told me of a secret passageway.  Do you know if it,” the elf asked.

Elmo: “I have map from the old days.  It tells you how to get in through the back,” the grizzled warrior said as he tossed a rolled up piece of parchment onto the table.

Rufus: “I will help you in anyway I can.  Don’t hesitate to call on me, my Keep is always open to you.  Also, I would like to give you a tour of Hommlet tomorrow morning.  I think you might appreciate the town more if you knew the fine people in it.”

Everyone thanked Rufus and the silent Burne for their time before going to bed.  Merk was instructed by Elmo to stay at the Inn.  When she dissented, he informed her that he had asked Vesta to allow her back as a personal favor.  Merk was thrilled at spending the night in a warm bed for once and so she resolved to be on her best behavior around Vesta at all times.
--------------------------------------- 
The next morning Merk was pure sunshine.  She didn’t stop complimenting Vesta until the Innkeeper had to tell her to stop outright.  While Merk made her peace with Vesta, Strider brooded over the strange disappearance of Eblis with Bandar.  Everyone in the group had pegged Eblis as loner, but it was still troubling for Strider not to have extra help in clearing out the lower levels of the Moathouse.  Strider was rousted from his thoughts by the sound of dwarven yelling.  Rushing outside, he was overjoyed to find Aramek “talking” to one of the town guards.  The dwarf had changed.  Instead of the leather armor he had been sporting in the past, Aramek was encased in black scale armor and a draconian helmet to boot.  A large steel shield was strapped to his back and a warhammer hung from a hoop on his belt.  The dwarf did not seem to notice Strider’s amazement as he walked up to him.  After each man had exchanged ample stories on what had happened during the time they were away, both men went inside to get some breakfast.

During breakfast, Aramek expounded on the stories of how he slew a dragon in the ancient Dwarven Keep a few days from Blasingdell.  Everyone listened on with fascination until Rufus and his personal guard showed up to escort the party through Hommlet.  Aramek grumbled a bit about being interrupted, but he tagged along anyway.   Hommlet was filled with many great places and people: a temple to St. Cuthbert, a temple to Elhonna, a temple to Pelor, tailors, weavers, a general store, a bakery, blacksmiths, a milk market, potters, stables, a scribe, a sage, a brewery, stonemasons, a wagon repair shop, and a man who sold potions.

After the tour, the party went around town unloading some of the treasure it had got from the top level of the Moathouse.  The first thing to go was the stone mask, found on a dead priest.  Joman Dart, the halfling that ran the Old Trading Post bought it off the party for nearly half it’s assessed value.  The wily trader did however agree to begin a Life Insurance policy on for of the party members for up to a month for free if they sold him the strange mask.  The party agreed to the conditions and decided to give the contracts to Lathender, Bandar, Strider, and Merk.  Aramek refused to allow “a stinkin’ halfin” to bury him.  The party also contracted Alphon, the local blacksmith (a halfling much to Aramek’s chagrin), to construct some armor for Lathander as he was unable to recover his after the battle with the dragon.  The next few days were spent in complete relaxation as the party waited for the armor to be made.  The short vacation started off well enough, but by the second day reality sank in.

One of the local militiamen informed Strider that they had discovered the bodies of the Miller and his family at the bottom of the river.  Preliminary observation indicated that they had been strangled and then sunk to the bottom of the river with large stones.  Redithidor’s body had also been found.  His corpse had been found suspended in the basement of the Mill; his body was brutally beaten and the throat had been slashed.  A note had been discovered that was addressed to Strider personally, stuffed at the bottom of Redithidor’s boot.  It was crumpled and smeared with blood making it extremely difficult to read; however Strider was able to catch a few phrases:

_Strider,
You were right…Master Dunrat…to Naquint…wagon in nearby village of Rastor can be obtained from Tal Chamish…evil is inside the Crater…_

Strider looked at the parchment for quite some time before going upstairs.  He did not emerge until the group had made all the necessary preparations for the Moathouse.  Before leaving Hommlet, Strider nailed a letter he had written the night before to the door of the Town Hall.  The message was simple: when he found the people who had harmed the Miller’s family and Redithidor Halfmoon…well, needless to say that it wasn’t very pleasant.
---------------------------------------
The trip to the Moathouse was done in a constant phase of paranoia.  Everyone in the party was asked to watch the skies for any blue dragons.  Luckily, none engaged the group.  Merk had no trouble locating the secret entrance to the Moathouse Elmo had outlined in his map.  It was a quarter mile east of the structure, hidden in the midst of large boulders.  The party knew that they had reached the Moathouse when the earthen tunnel finally gave way to worked stone.  It wasn’t long before the party stumbled into a fight with a pair of Cockatrices.  Unfortunately, no one really knew just what they were up against until Strider’s heroic swordplay was cut short when he was transformed into stone [DM Note: Strider had made three consecutive saves in a row; then the guy playing him opened his big mouth…it never fails].  At this point the party gave the mythical beasts the respect they deserved by dispatching them with extreme prejudice.  As soon as the last Cockatrice fell, Strider’s body was rushed out the secret entrance and back to Hommlet.

Lathander first petitioned Yether for help with the matter, but the Priest of Pelor said it was beyond his power to repair the calamity.

“The only person who can heal your friend Strider is Canoness Y’dey, the High Priestess of St. Cuthbert here in Hommlet.”

Lathander rejoiced at the wonderful news…until he actually met the priestess in person.  Canoness Y’dey was the quintessence of St. Cuthbert’s dogma: meticulous, exact, merciless, levelheaded, and strong.  This was not the woman Lathander expected to receive him.

“My friend is in dire need of your strengths High Priestess.  Only you can save him from the curse put upon him,” Lathender said expectantly.

Canoness: “I see Cleric of Pelor.  Are you familiar with the faith of St. Cuthbert?”

Lathander: “Yes, a bit.  Why?”  Lathander was thoroughly confused at this point.

Canoness: “Then you would know that your pleas of good and righteousness have little effect upon me.  Everyone is responsible for earning their own way in life, gifts are a method of weakening the spirit.”

Lathander: “I completely agree High Priestess…perhaps I could undertake a quest that would benefit St. Cuthbert-”

Canoness: “Don’t bother with that, a donation to the church would be enough.”

Lathander: “I see…and how much would this ‘donation’ be?”  Lathander spoke through clenched teeth, unaccustomed to such callousness from anyone.

700 pieces of gold later, Strider was returned to them.  Thanking the party profusely for the sacrifices they had made in returning him to life, he pledged to return all the money they had spent on him.  Before everyone called it a day, Bandar drafted a letter to Rufus describing the day’s events.
---------------------------------------
The walk back to the Moathouse was a little more somber than the first trip.  No one cherished the idea of defeat…but twice in a row was too much!  The area where the party had fought the Cockatrices provided little in the way of evil creatures…in fact they were the only things in that area.  Hours of searching revealed a bit of treasure, a skeleton donning Lloth’s medallion, and a hallway with a dead end.  Frustrated, the group ascended to the surface and worked their way back through Moathouse’s main entrance.  A Grick guarded the entrance to the Moathouse dungeon, but was quickly destroyed by Strider and Aramek.  Merk’s unique knowledge of the structure allowed the group to navigate rather quickly through the dungeon.  Sure, there were a few undead creatures roving around, but Lathander took care of that problem quite easily.  In fact, the only living person they did encounter was a man by the name of Spugnoir.  He claimed to be member of the Hommlet community, but Strider refused to trust him.  Strider found his story to be completely fabricated.  _Why would anyone want to take on that dragon alone?!  And why is it that if he was hiding none of the evil priests he described found him yet and we have within a few minutes of entering the Moathouse?_  Aramek managed to quell Strider’s paranoia, enabling Spugnoir to go free.

From there on out it was pretty simple: move into a room, blast the undead out of existence with Lathander’s divine might, and then wait while Lathander prayed for the souls of the vanquished in the very room he had cleansed.  Everyone was pretty disappointed that no priests inhabited the dungeon.  The only things of interest were a small pool in a room with used mining gear surrounding it and what Merk called the “Maze.”  It was series of tunnels that seemed lead in every direction…Merk cautioned against going in there, lest the party become lost.  Aramek’s thoughts pretty much summed up the party’s feelings:

“This is wat I came duwn fer?  Skeletons and no treasure?  This was fun…thanks fer inviting me along with yers,” Aramek said sacastically.
---------------------------------------
 Back in the Inn of the Welcome Wench, the party was brooding.  Lathander had decided to eat dinner with the party for once so that they could discuss their next move.  The merriment around them did little to spark happiness in anyone.  There were many concerns that needed to be addressed.

Merk: “Well, I think we should prioritize what needs doing first.  First, we need to figure out what happened to Eblis.  Second, we should be on the lookout for the man who attacked me.  Third, we should try to figure out where the priests went.”

Strider: “Vesta said that she moved Eblis’ things to my room as he hasn’t paid for a few days now.  The militia doesn’t know where he went either…he just vanished.  His sword is gone, but the rest of his gear is here.”

Lathander: “I don’t know about this Eblis fellow, but the main concern should be with the Priests of Tharizdun.”

The conversation went on like this for quite sometime…everyone claiming different priorities over one another until Aramek put a stop to all the bickering.

“Listen you bunch of jackarses!  Well go to bloody Nulb and that’s the end of it!  Merk said it’s a seedy town filled with cutthroats…well that would be the perfect place to find ‘em!  Now shut yer traps before I shut ‘em fer yah!”

With that, Aramek got up and stomped to his room.  The Inn had gone silent; all the patrons tried not to stare at the party’s table.  Everyone agreed that the dwarf made strong arguments for his case…that or everyone was too embarrassed to continue talking in the Inn’s common room.

While the rest of her companions went to sleep, Merk decided to visit Rufus before calling it a night.  It was fairly easy to gain access to the Keep now and even easier to find the old adventurer.  He was in the main courtyard tending to his roses.

“Nice roses,” Merk said pleasantly.

“I take it you aren’t here for the roses,” Rufus replied.

“No, not really.  I wanted to ask you about Nulb and about any news you had.”

“Nulb is a dangerous place.  Be wary of anyone and anything there.  Agents of the Temple are usually stationed there at all times, so try not to give anything about yourself away.  Speaking of bad news, it seems that Iuz has made his move against Furyondy.  King Belvor IV cannot spare any men for my suspicions.  His advisor; however, informed me he would pass the word along to all able adventurers willing to come to Hommlet,” Rufus said with a sigh.

“Thank you for your time Rufus,” Merk said sincerely.

As she was leaving, Rufus called out to her from his garden.

“There isn’t much time left…something is happening…find out what is going on quickly.”


----------



## SolidSnake (Jan 15, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 3: A stranger in Nulb
(Or: “Nulb sucks more than last time!”)*

The party left the nice town of Hommlet the following morning, heading for the ill-reputed den of cutthroats known as Nulb.  They left Eblis’ gear behind in case he returned – he had not checked out of his room, nor told anyone where he was going. The group had no more time to wait, so Merk asked Elmo to look out for the quiet warrior. 

The path through the woods to Nulb took three days and nothing out of the ordinary happened.  Merk had plenty of time to tell the party as many stories as she remembered about the miserable village from the adventurers she had known who had stayed there.  

“Everybody in Nulb is a low-life, an agent of the Temple, or both.  Don’t trust anyone, and stick together.  The last group got into fights constantly by just being in town and walking around.  We’ll have to stay at the dump of a tavern there, but let’s not stay long.  Oh, and Rufus said that we should be on the lookout for the priests from the Moathouse, because they probably fled here.”

After the journey the group approached Nulb cautiously, but there was little to see.  The place was an abandoned wreck.  Those rotten huts that hadn’t collapsed were in complete disrepair, and it was clear that nobody had lived here for some time.  Nobody was more surprised than Merk – where had everyone gone?  “Aye, lass, there’s nubuddy here!” Aramek growled, annoyed that another reputed haunt of evil was abandoned.

Just then Strider spotted a huge man’s body in front of the run-down building with a faded sign reading: “Waterside Hostel.”  The group hushed and cautiously approached.  The man’s head had exploded, but the only evidence of what had happened was horse tracks around his body.  Inside was a bunch of broken tables covered in dust – nobody had been inside for some time.  On the alert, the party drew together; Merk and Strider snuck inside.  [Player’s advice: Never enter an Inn with a freshly dead body out front without determining the cause of death.]

Merk headed for the stairs as Strider ventured out into the clutter of tables and chairs, and the rest of the group watched from the doorway.  Suddenly, a translucent, decaying creature materialized behind Strider and stashed at his back with a glowing sword.  Only the surprised warrior’s armor saved him from a deadly hit.  Just seeing the horrible undead spirit weakened Merk and Lathander, but the other’s resisted its powerful evil aura. Shaking from hatred, fear, and new weakness, Lathander stepped forward, holding out his holy symbol of Pelor.  Screaming “The sun of Pelor is upon you!,” Lathander willed forth incredible holy power that shone out of his sunburst medallion.  The ghost vaporized before Pelor’s rays, ending the battle before it had truly begun.

The whole group was still tensed from the fear and surprise of the undead’s appearance, but the dwarves soon recovered.  Bandar and Aramek clapped Lathander on the side and said “Good job” in gruff voices as they walked in.  Strider thanked the shaking cleric somberly, knowing that Lathander might have just saved his life.  Merk didn’t thank the good cleric, and instead stumbled over towards the group, as white as a sheet (even for an elf).  The ghost’s mere presence had stolen her vitality [-2 Str/Dex/Con] – the sense overwhelmed her, and she was violently sick.  Strider tried to comfort her, and offered the undead’s weapon to her with the rest of the group’s support.  So weak, she took Strider’s magical rapier instead, insisting he take the sword.

Someone heard a sound coming from upstairs, and the party was on guard again.  The group snuck up the creaky stairs and found all the rooms abandoned except for one at the end of the hallway.  The door to the room was closed, muffling the sounds of wind and occasional thumps from within.  Strider signaled for everyone to wait while he went downstairs and outside to climb up to the window of the room and see what was going on.  While the party fingered their weapons and strained to hear, Strider climbed onto the roof and swung down, crashing through the window and into the bedroom.  He was taken aback by what he found.

The furniture of the room flew around in a whirlwind, smashing into everything except for the room’s young woman occupant, who held her face in her hands and was moaning.  Before Strider could ask what was going on, a lamp knocked the breath out of him.  As he recovered, the woman approached him and clawed at his face, somehow magically stuffing her hand in his head and causing him excruciating pain and loss [-3 Wisdom; our DM is suddenly big into irrevocably reducing PC ability scores].  

With Strider’s audible howl of pain, the rest of the group moved into action.  Bandar smashed down the door, and the others poured in, caught off guard by the peculiar scene and clipped by flying objects.  Lathander quickly surmised what was happening and tried using his holy power again, but the creature remained unfazed.  The group attacked the monster and managed to fend off her terrible ethereal hands, but only enraged Strider managed to score any solid hits, each making it less substantial.  The creature began screaming, which magically immobilized Bandar and Lathander.  Between hits by swirling furniture and avoiding its claws, Strider managed to dissipate the undead with his magical weapons.  The whirlwind stopped, everything fell to the ground, and the party breathed a sigh of relief.  Even without people, Nulb was a miserable place!

Lathander purified the building with a lengthy prayer to Pelor while the group rested.  Merk examined the body outside the Inn and found some peculiar leather loops on the back of his clothing, and recognition dawned on her face.  She said to Strider “This was Gatz, a powerful and ruthless mercenary I knew.  Couldn’t tell who he was with his head gone, but this long sheath gives him away.”  Strider looked curiously at the ‘sheath’ she spoke of – it must’ve been for an eight-foot sword!   “I’ve never heard of a weapon that big!” he exclaimed.  “Only a man like Gatz could wield it” Merk said, adding “Wonder where it is now?”

The party was not anxious to venture in any other buildings in dangerous Nulb, but they looked around the abandoned village some more.  In a shop with a faded sign reading “Herbs” Strider found a hideous man sitting, looking at them with his good eye, because his other was lost amidst pulpy pink mass of flesh that was the rest of his face.  He held a staff with a crystal sphere on top, and looked at Strider in a strange manner.

Taken aback, Strider asked for the man’s name, to which he replied “I am Tianden.”  A short conversation revealed that the man was just sitting there, watching things, not doing much, and not very willing to reveal anything else.  He was continuously lost in thought, gazing beyond Strider at the wall of the former herbshop.  Strider was curious about the stranger who seemed so out of place, and pressed him with questions, introducing the rest of his group.

Merk took one look at Tianden and crept out of sight.  The others might want to chit-chat with this stranger, but she knew better.  Someone who was sitting around in an abandoned town, doing nothing, within a few miles of the Temple? Rufus had warned her about the Moathouse priests and Temple agents in Nulb, and this doubtless was one of them.  Were the others too naïve to realize how suspicious this situation was?

Strider took extra care not to stare at Tianden’s face as he introduced the rest of the part.  Tianden’s smile noticeably widened when Strider landed on Lathander’s name.  Aramek visibly tensed at this reaction, but his agitation subsided slowly when Tianden offered the group a seat at his table.  As there was only one chair in the room, the strange man offered to get more so that everyone could sit at the table.  Strider waved the offer away, worried that Tianden shouldn’t have to inconvenience himself.  Once everyone was seated, Strider began to warn Tianden of the dangers of Nulb.

Strider: “You should be careful Tianden, there are evil creatures about.  _Especially_ at the local tavern…I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”
Tianden: “Thank you for your concern Strider, I will not venture there.  What brings your group to Nulb?”
Strider: “It is so good to finally meet someone reasonable after our long trek.  We are looking for priests.”
Tianden: “Priests?  I have seen a few about while I was here.  They are not here any longer I am afraid.  They have probably left for the Temple by now.”
Strider: “Really?  That’s fantastic.  You have been most helpful Tianden.  Would I be too forward if I asked you to join our group for lunch…it is noon anyways.”

At that moment Aramek began to cough uncontrollably.  Once his fit had subsided he began to grumble something about the dust in the air.  Tianden’s expression was one of utter shock.  Quickly regaining his composure, the man heartily agreed to the offer.  During lunch, Lathander took over most of the conversation with talk of theology.

Lathander: “I believe in Pelor’s overarching plan for human goodness.  What tenants do you believe in Tianden?”
Tianden: “Well, I haven’t had a chance to brush up on Pelor’s dogma in quite some time.”
Lathander: “You were a student of Pelor?”  Lathander spoke with excitement, hoping to find a kindred spirit in his quest against evil.
Tianden: “Me? No, no…I simply met a priest of Pelor once.  He was in a party of adventurers at the time, much like the situation we are faced with now.  He was very militant, but I didn’t mind him so much as the priestess of St. Cuthbert.”
Lathander: “You have had problems with them too?!  It seems as though their teachings are too strict…I think they lack the desire to help those in need.  A priestess of St. Cuthbert I know was more interested in the letter of the law than its spirit.”
Tianden: “They are uncompromising aren’t they?  Yes…the priestess I remember was _most_…disagreeable.”  The man’s eyes seemed to wander with the last statement.
----------------------
The elf slid around back, checking in windows, and her suspicions were soon confirmed when she found Tianden’s room.  Inside was a bed, a trunk, a chest, a suit of menacing plate armor, a shield with Tharazdun’s eye emblazoned on it, and Gatz’s sword leaned against the wall.  _Here we have Gatz’s killer… and the former leader of the Moathouse?_  She slid up the window, making only a little noise, and slipped into the bedroom.
----------------------
As quickly as Tianden’s focus was lost, it was reinvigorated.  With a slight tilt of his head towards the door to the rear of the room, Tiaden shifted the gears of the discussion.

Tianden: “Let’s say in a hypothetical scenario that one man owns a castle.  Let is also assume that this same man doesn’t want trespassers on his property.  What if someone were to invade his castle in the name of good?  These men kill all his…retainers and drive him from the very place he had created.  Do you think this is right?

Lathender: “Absolutely not!  No man can claim to do good by taking what is another’s.  It is wrong!  Utterly wrong!”

Strider: “I also agree.  I man’s home is his own.”

Tianden: “I’m glad to see some reasonable people left in the world today.  You are all fine men.  Lathander your beauty is only surpassed by your oratory prowess.”  Tianden seemed very pleased, indicated by twisted smile.
----------------------
Merk found the door locked and breathed a sigh of relief – she could probably get out before Tianden could charge back here.  Unfortunately, she found nothing of note in his trunk, and did not have lockpicks for opening his smaller chest.  The chest, Gatz’s sword, and everything else of note was too heavy or too noisy to take out.  Merk contented herself with cutting all the fastenings to Tianden’s armor, so it would fall apart upon donning it.  She crept out, waiting to hear sounds of battle.
----------------------
Lathander: “I can’t remember the last time I had such an interesting discussion.  Thank you so much for joining us.”

Tianden: “No…thank you for joining me.  Take care on your way to the Temple.”

Everyone had gotten up and was headed towards the door…Aramek moving quicker than some suspected was possible.  The last person out was Bander.  He was about to cross the threshold of the doorway, when he heard Tianden’s voice call out.

“That mark on the back of your neck, where did you get it,” Tianden said fervently.  The man was referring the tattoo the taciturn dwarf had on the back of his neck.  It was a picture of a red hand on a white background.

Bandar: “I don’t know.  It was there ever since I can remember.”

Tianden: “I remember that mark.  _He_ had it on his sword.”  At this point, it became unclear if Tianden was talking with the group anymore.  “I would have won!  The battle was mine for the taking!  But then that stupid little half-elf interfered and cost me the fight!”

Strider: “I am not sure what you are talking about…” Strider spoke _very_ carefully.

Tianden’s voice seemed to rise in anger and the grip he had on Bandar’s shoulder only strengthened.

“Didn’t I invite you into my home?!  Didn’t we eat together?!  If one man from the party commits a wrong, the ENTIRE party is responsible!  I am talking about that elf STRIDER!”

Strider: “I don’t understand…did Merk do something?”

Tianden: “Yes…her.  She broke into my room.  You know what?  It doesn’t really matter all that much anymore.  I am glad we are friends.”  

The transformation was terrifying to behold.  One instant he was on the verge of murder and the next Tianden was as cold as ice.  Bandar eased himself from the man’s grip as Strider promised to discipline Merk if as soon as he found her.

The party left Nulb toward the Temple at a brisk walk, putting distance between themselves and the crazed Tianden.  Merk had circled Nulb and waited on the outskirts, whistling as she leaned against a tree.


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## Rune (Jan 18, 2002)

*The Horror!  The Horror!*

Hey, SolidSnake!  It's great to see the return of some truly wonderful campaign logs!  I look forward to reading more!


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## SolidSnake (Jan 20, 2002)

*Re: The Horror!  The Horror!*



			
				Rune said:
			
		

> *Hey, SolidSnake!  It's great to see the return of some truly wonderful campaign logs!  I look forward to reading more! *




Good to see that you have completed the move over here aswell!  The next log is seriously becoming its own thread...that will teach me to do too many things in a single session!  No, but seriously, it shouldn't be long until the novel/post is completed  I look forward to your game, but you haven't posted all of your stuff yet...I'll just have to wait until your new installment is complete.  Good stuff coming up though, so keep reading!


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## SolidSnake (Jan 30, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 4, Part 1: Between Life and Death (or “Trapped by hobgoblins, surrounded by evil, low on hit points.”)*

[Player aside: I have been role-playing for over 7 years.  I have never played in a session like the one I describe below.  I am in awe of my DM.]


“The Temple of Elemental Evil:  Its name befits its hideous appearance.  The huge, charcoal-gray building, with its arched buttresses and obscene designs, stands a mute testament to the dark side of history.  Every surface of the structure teems with leering faces and twisted forms of demons and monstrosities unlike anything previously imagined.  The massive main doors are crowned with winged beasts and disgusting figures that chill a viewer to the very soul.
The surrounding compound is equally terrifying.  Vermiculated growth, covered in dark thorns, twists amid rubble from what was once a high curtain wall.  Shadows rubble from what was once a high curtain wall.  Shadows dance along the blackened trees whose branches claw at the air around them like desperate, dying men.
It need not be said aloud, being obvious immediately:  This is an evil place.”

- Monte Cook, RttToEE pg 33

Strider, leading the party, was the first to see the ominous structure.  The unique sensation that washed over him is difficult to describe.  It combined utter disgust stemming from the sheer unnaturalness of it with an overwhelming sense of horror.  Suffused into each of these competing emotions was anxiety:  wave after wave of shock crashing through his whole being each time he recognized a different image.  The sensation was the worst thing he had ever felt in his life – even worse than when he lost his wife and child years ago.  From the facial expression Merkaeytl displayed as she slowed to a halt in stunned silence, he knew he was not the only one affected by the sight before him.  In whispered fury, Aramek put a name to what the group was feeling:  “EVIL.”
-------------------------------------------------

Merkaeytl was in a whirlwind when she rejoined the group just outside of Nulb.  She was at the point of blabbering while alerting the group about Tianden.  Armor and shield emblazoned with the Tharazdun’s eye, Gatsu’s sword, locked back room, danger, powerful, past leader of the moat-house, hidden were all of the ideas she was trying to fit into a sentence.

Aramek:  “Stop yer gibberin lass.  We cant understand a wurd yer sayin’.”

Strider:  “Merkaeytl!  Slow down.  What’s this about Tianden?  Where were you anyway?  How come you didn’t come inside?  I think he was getting a bit suspicious.”

With an upraised nose and a talk-to-the-hand attitude Merkaeytl gave Strider a “hmm”.  Addressing everyone but Strider she proceeded to describe in detail everything she found while she missed Strider’s luncheon with messed-up-face guy.

Lathander (louder voice than normal):  “WHAT?!?  He was a priest of Tharazdun?  Blazing SUN!”

Aramek:  “Wut the hell ‘re ya doin’.”

Aramek placed his gauntleted hand on Lathander’s arm as Lathander was turning to head back the way they came.

Aramek:  “How do ya know he’s a filthy priest?  Fer all we know he killed a priest and kept the armor.”

Strider noticed Aramek had a tinge of…fear…in his voice.  Not much scared Strider.  Seeing Aramek afraid terrified him.

Merkaeytl:  “But he also had Gatsu’s sword.”

Aramek:  “All the more reason to stay the hell away from him lass.”

The group continued to discuss the possibilities – he is a priest/he killed a priest, he killed Gatsu/he found Gatsu’s sword, he was a recluse due to his face, he was a nice man whom they had lunch with, he had a bit of dementia, etc.  To Strider, Aramek’s fear was palpable each time Lathander gave a good reason to go back.  Eventually, however, Lathander reasoned that they would probably run into him again and that he really could not jump to conclusions about Tianden being a priest.

Bandar was troubled, deeply troubled, by Tianden’s notice of his tattoo.  He had the tattoo since before he remembered.  He had gotten even before his slavery.  Why would a complete stranger even recognize it?

Lathander’s mind played back his conversation of theology with Tianden.  He was troubled by the fact that he had equipment with Tharazdun’s unholy symbol on it.  Then again, he had an obex in his pouch.  He really could not jump to conclusions.  However, the subtle details of their conversation kept nipping at the back of his mind.  Like the ever so brief flash of rabid hatred he saw in Tianden’s eyes upon their introduction.  Also, he had this strange intuition that Tianden and he were talking about the same priestess of St. Cuthbert – Canoness Y’dey.  Also, he was particularly fervent with his “hypothetical” example of a group of wily strangers trespassing and vandalizing someone’s residence – almost as if he had been the owner himself.
--------------------------------------------------------

The ~ 900’ x 600’ courtyard housing the temple would have dwarfed any normal structure.  However, even the aged 10’ foot-thick solid stone walls were not enough to draw away from the temple’s imposing presence.  The party’s attention was quickly drawn to four javelins traveling at high velocity through the air.  Strider barely had time to twist before he felt the searing pain of pierced flesh.  One had embedded itself thickly in his thigh while another had grazed his ribs.  His quickening breathing only increased his awareness of the danger.  

Four reddish brown medium size humanoids appeared from behind a very large thorn bush readying another volley.  Merkaeytl snuck around one of the large stonewall like structures while Lathander and Bandar followed behind the charging Strider and Aramek.  One of the foul hobgoblins ran through the front entrance sounding an alarm at the top of its lungs while the other three let more javelins fly.  Strider was ready this time – dodging them was easy.  Merkaeytl quickly dispatched the screaming hobgoblin.  Strider pulled up short of the hobgoblins near the hedge and cast an entangle spell.  The creeping vines completely engulfed the hobgoblins.  Unfortunately the alarm was successful.  The sound of barking dogs and running feet came from the courtyard interior.  Merkaeytl was near the entrance.  She only had an instant’s thought before realizing that she could not outrun them.

As she turned to face them Strider screamed her name:  “Merkaeytl, NO!!!”  They made mincemeat out of her as Strider was taking aim with his bow.  Knowing that he could not leave the entangle hobgoblins unattended he could not get to her in time.  Between the four adventurers left standing only seconds passed before every hobgoblin and dog lay lifeless.  Lathander knew she was still alive:  she had a pulse.  However, each breath was a rasp and the gaping wound in her chest told him she did not have much time left.  Aramek poured a healing potion down her throat before Lathander even finished checking her wounds.  Strider waited anxiously as she slowly opened her eyes.  Quicker than he could blink she was on her feet and he felt a stinging sensation on his left cheek.

Merkaeytl:  “Strider!  How come you attacked the helpless hobgoblins?  Didn’t you see that I was in trouble?  Don’t you care that I was in trouble?  You didn’t even turn to help me.  I am not talking to you anymore.  Oh, and another thing.  (with a meaningful look towards Strider) How about someone else scout.”

Strider:  “wha…I…sorry”

She turned with another sniff and planted a big kiss on Aramek’s cheek.

Merkaeytl:  “At least there are some MEN in the group who know how to take care of a lady.  Thanks Aramek.”

Strider wasn’t sure whose face was redder:  his or Aramek’s.

Aramek:  with a quiet harrumph and a quick glance to Strider “it was nuthin lass”

With an indignant rigidity to his gate Strider turned west and began “scouting” along the exterior of the wall.  The others fell in behind him, all catching sight of the occasional meaningful glares aimed at Merkaeytl.  Merkaeytl appeared not to notice.  

Given that the majority of the wall was a few FEET thick, even the crippled sections of the wall where cracks and small crevices could be seen were not traversable.  The only way into the courtyard was through the main entrance or over a section of the wall.  Strider figured that a more obscure route into the courtyard might still give them the element of surprise despite the sounding of the alarm.  He led the group all the way to the exterior of the north wall stopping close to the tower.  Pulling out his grappling hook, he secured it to the ridge of the 10 foot wall and stealthily climbed up to see if the spot he picked out was as concealed as he thought.

Bingo!  He secured another rope to the wall and then assisted the other four members of the group over the wall.  He then disguised both ropes among the thick vines on the wall.  When he was finished not even Aramek could distinguish the ropes from the vines.

Aramek:  “Yer gettin better Strider – now a blind orc actually would miss yer handiwork.”

Strider:  with a grin, part genuine and part wry, “Thanks.”

Coming in the back way proved even more advantageous than Strider had imagined.  A thick row of thorned hedges walled off the entire rear third of the courtyard.  Two major structures occupied the group’s attention:  the north east tower with a solid oaken door barring passage and a cellar located more towards the west of this section of the courtyard.  After a bit of discussion the group decided to preliminarily scan the cellar, tackle the tower and then come back to the cellar for a more thorough search.  A glance at the cellar showed an underground passage heading away from the temple.  Lathander, the last one out, closed the doors behind him as Strider stealthily approached the tower.

Listening at the door he could clearly make out some sort of harsh dialogue.  Signaling for the others to approach while readying missile weapons, all in one motion, he rammed into the door blowing it completely off its hinges, dove into a roll as he fell forward and sprang to his feet weapons at the ready.  He was met with a barrage of javelins which peppered his midsection and legs with three javelins.  Staggering backwards he saw a group of hobgoblins behind a table which one was overturning as an ad hoc barricade.  The humanoids were each unhinging a second javelin readying another volley as Strider regained his footing.  Regaining his momentum he charged the group of hobgoblins behind the table.  As the side of the table hit the floor, Strider hit it into the 3 hobgoblins braced directly behind it with so much force that several were knocked back a few feet.  With the entrance clear Aramek, Lathander, and Bandar swarmed into the tower’s ground floor.  Merkaeytl sidestepped the battle and silently padded her way up the stairs to the upper level of the tower.

After one hobgoblin went unconscious from blood loss the other three threw down their weapons.  Strider guided the hobgoblins to one side of the cylindrical tower and had them face the wall, outstretching their arms with their hands flush against the wall above their heads.  Meanwhile, Merkaeytl dispatched 3 of the goblins on the second floor of the tower from the shadows.  The last goblin ran screaming down the stairs from the invisible assassin only to find himself faced with four towering bulks of armor.  Lathander stopped the goblin dead in his tracks by blocking the bashed in doorway.  He guided the pitiful little creature over to the other prisoners as Merkaeytl emerged from the darkness coming down the stairs.

Not sure which group to be more terrified of, the goblin separated itself from the hobgoblins and stayed halfway between them and Strider (with his half drawn bow aimed at the filthy lot).  It tried its best to meld itself into the wall but to no avail as Strider motioned it to get closer to the hobgoblins.  Lathander watching all of this suddenly felt a wave of empathy for the little creature.

The goblin’s tiny little legs started quivering, its whole body a vibrating rack of nerves.  It had its back to the wall and Lathander thought he could make out the thing’s jugular throbbing like … well, like a mini-heart itself.  The goblin started to whine and cover its face with its hands.

While Lathander’s attention was on the goblin, Strider had been trying to communicate with the hobgoblins to no avail.  If they did speak common they certainly were good at bluffing.  Strider motioned for one of the hobgoblins to separate itself from the group and instructed Aramek to lead the thing to the room that had its door shut.  Encouraged with steel the creature opened the closed door while Strider, Bandar, and Merkaeytl, trained their missile weapons on the hobgoblins.  Other than a pile of refuse, not much was even worth mentioning.  Aramek led the hobgoblin over to the other door, apparently not to this same room with similar findings.  When Aramek rejoined the group, Merkaeytl and Bandar broke off to search the rooms.

Lathander casually pointed his masterwork light crossbow at the hobgoblins.  He had had that weapon for a long time.  Had it while his brother was still alive.  He remembered the craftsman well:  a short stocky fellow who despite his berth was a very timid fellow always afraid of his own shadow.  The same man had made his brother’s weapon – a morning star in laid with heavy metals to increase its mass, a fine weapon.  The morning star had been fashioned to appear as a roaring lion’s head, Lathander’s family crest.  His light crossbow had a similar finely sculpted appearance with the bolts flying from the mouth of the roaring lion’s head.  Above all, the finest work of Jukal had to have been the suit of full plate armor fashioned for his brother.  Upon initiation to paladinhood, Jukal gave the suit of armor to Lathander’s brother as a gift for his mercy and courage.  Lathander cherished the now missing armor and had worn it in his brother’s honor.  The dragon at the moat house had taken it from him.  He intended to get it back.

Goblin:  “wahhhhhhhhhh”

A particular loud whine from the goblin and the wafting vapors from the two smaller rooms grappled Lathander’s thoughts back to the present.

Lathander:  _ funny I should recall all of that now_

Looking at the goblin, he saw the resemblance.  The goblin reminded him of Jukal – just, a bit smaller and … green.  He walked closer to the goblin and the thing started wailing.  Realizing he had the crossbow half raised which wound up pointing it directly at the short little creature, Lathander quickly pointed it directly at the ground.  He reached in his pouch and pulled out a dried trail ration.  Unwrapping it with one hand he gave the food to the goblin.  It snatched it out of Lathander’s hand and ravenously tore into the dried meat and fruit.  Considering that the ration was enough to feed a full size human, the 3 foot tall goblin ate it all quicker than even the most starving person he had ever seen.

As Merkaeytl entered the right room Strider guided the captives, to the entrance of the tower.  Picking up their fallen comrade the hobgoblins reluctantly went out the door.  Strider shouted a loud GO while motioning with his bow for them to leave.  For some reason they did not want to leave.  He made threatening gestures and then waving motions with his arms.  Still they remained.  Finally he went outside and started pushing one with the point of his arrow (the one not helping to carry the unconscious hobgoblin).  He pushed and then backed into the doorway, came forward again and pushed, etc.  Finally they got the message and slowly started trudging around the hedges immediately in front of the tower.  For a bit of incentive, Strider shot a few “warning” shots close to them.  He then heard full speed sprinting.

Lathander shouldered his light crossbow and pulled out another ration.  Again the goblin ate like there was no tomorrow.  He was amazed the little creature was not wracked with disease considering how filthy it was.  With a bit of zealous inspiration he pulled out his wineskin.  Showing the goblin his holy symbol – a polished sun he recited:  “Cleanliness is close to Godliness”.  With that he drenched the little fellow with a gallon of water.  At first the goblin did not know what was going on.  As soon as Lathander pulled out a rag from his pack and began scrubbing away at him, the little goblin figured it out.  He was getting a bath.

Aramek:  “What in the nine hells ‘re ya doin?!?”

Lathander:  …

Aramek:  “O K, so give him some of our food, give him some more food, but fer Moradin’s sake.  Ya really ‘re goin wash him, R’nt ya.  Yer crazy”

Lathander:  …

Aramek:  “Bandar!  Merkaeytl!  Somebody do something.”  (As Strider comes back into the tower) “Strider, for stone lovin’ sake, (motioning towards Lathander) he’s washin it!  (to Lathander) Yer insane!

After another two gallons of water, retrieved from Lathander and Bandar – Aramek refused – the goblin was probably as clean as it had ever been.  For good measure, Lathander gave it another ration, which it stuffed down its loincloth (which to its mind must have meant “for safe keeping”).  Lathander could only roll his eyes.

Aramek:  “More food?!?!  I think ya fed it enough Mr. Charity (emphasis added with much sarcasm).”

Lathander:  Pelor teaches mercy and altruism.  I cannot think of a more appropriate situation than this to practice what I preach.

Aramek:  “(with a look that reflected ‘I am talking to a rock’)...goblin.  Ya really ‘re crazy. _ fargin ragin lunatic is what he is _”

Merkaeytl came back with a confused look.

Merkaeytl:  “Nothing.”

Strider:  “Are you sure?”

Immediately after he asked the innocent question he regretted it.  With a slight upturned nose and one of those female ‘just try and prove me wrong’ looks she turned towards him.

Merkaeytl:  “Maybe you should double check (perfused with sarcasm).”

Strider:  “Oh no (trying to dismiss his mistake but only digging himself deeper), I am sure you did a fine job – (oops).”

Merkaeytl:  “OH! So now I am a child who meets your approval then.  NO, I insist, you check it.  Make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

Strider had visions of an old man with a decrepit shovel trying to climb out of a hole.  The problem was his arms kept digging and he kept getting deeper – no matter how much his mind told him to drop the shovel and climb out.

Strider:  “I didn’t mean that Merkaeytl – ”

Merkaeytl:  “Well what exactly did you mean then?”

Strider: “Umm…(stammering)”

Merkaeytl:  “So now the paternal figure is lying to the child.  I see.”

Turning, which denied any further conversation, she went into the other room.  Aramek, still in disbelief over the goblin could only half smile.  Bandar felt kind of bad for Strider – after all, he was only trying to help.  Lathander was busy spouting off the tenets of Pelor to the goblin, who could only nod dumbly as it did not understand a word of what Lathander was saying.

A few minutes passed by while Merkaeytl was busy searching the second room.  In the midst of Strider’s thoughts on how to compliment Merkaeytl when she returned regardless of whether or not she was successful, a stifle cry came from inside the room.  Practically before Strider’s eardrums stopped vibrating Bandar, quick as a flash, was already moving through the doorway to help Merkaeytl.  As if in slow motion, Strider and Bandar locked gazes as Bandar turned the bend.  Strider knew Bandar understood his feeling of thanks conveyed through facial expression alone, while he also understood Bandar’s look of respect and almost reverence for him.  It was odd.  They had known each other for only a very short time, and already it seemed like they had been lifelong friends able to know what each other was thinking without so much as a glance.  

Seconds after Bandar escaped from view into the room to aid Merkaeytl, whatever the commotion was all about was already over.  Later on, Merkaeytl would describe the rat as very large and viscious, but Bandar’s story would always remain unchanged: “It was just a pretty big rat.”  Strider got to the doorway as Merkaeytl, with a bleeding forearm, exited.  Quite unexpectedly she did not start a rant aimed at Strider’s incompetence but rather sort of just leaned towards him while holding her forearm.  She did not collapse into him, but rather just rested her head against his chest.  He wrapped his left arm around her, as his other was busy wielding the magical sword he had gotten from the ghost in Nulb.  The sight of the ghost in Nulb had really affected her – she just didn’t have the stamina she used to.

Bandar came out next with bits of fur matted into his palm.

Bandar:  “Here, drink this.”  He handed a flask filled with some kind of green liquid to Merkaeytl.

Merkaeytl:  “What is it?

Bandar:  “An antitoxin.  That rat most likely was infected with more diseases than I care to think about.  Better not to take any chances.”

Merkaeytl:  After sipping and making a rather unctuous face (if that is possible with her beautiful elven features), she managed to down about half of the foul tasting liquid before stopping in exaspiration.  “But what about you.  You were bit on the leg.  Don’t you have any?  Here…”

Bandar:  With a look towards Strider “You have to drink all of it or the antitoxin won’t work.  I’ll be fine.”

Strider again was almost fascinated by the fact that Bandar could convey so much by the simplest of gestures.  With Bandar’s look, Strider realized Bandar was letting him know that he had given the antitoxin to Merkaeytl for Strider.

Lathander, patted the goblin on the head and unslung his backpack from behind him.  He handed Bandar a different shaped flask with a similarly colored liquid.  

Lathander:  “I will hear none of that.  Here.”

Bandar:  “Thanks.”

Looking back towards the goblin, Lathander inexplicably felt as if he was experiencing déjà vu.

Aramek:  (under his breath) “…a fargin goblin…next he’ll be helping the orcs…”

Lathander’s pondering was quickly interrupted by a tugging at his robes.  The goblin began frantically pointing at one of the two rooms Merkaeytl had searched and pulling the priest in that direction.  Lathander used this as an excuse to leave Strider and Merkaeytl in peace.  The room was small and mostly covered in refuse.  This meant little to the goblin; however, as it seemed that he knew exactly what he was looking for.  Brushing away the trash, the small green humanoid exposed a trapdoor to the curious priest of pelor.

Lathander: “Gentlemen…and Merkaeytl, you should come and have a look at this.”

Slowly the party congregated inside the small room.  Opening the trapdoor revealed a narrow tunnel that descended into darkness.  Iron rungs provided the only method of reaching the bottom of the constricted shaft.  Eventually everyone agreed that Aramek and Bandar should be the one’s to go down first, as they had the most experience with dark, small, spaces.  It wasn’t long before Strider, Merk, and Lathander heard the two dwarves call up that all was fine.

The shaft led down about fifty feet underground into a small chamber.  A tunnel led out of the room, directly away from of the Temple complex.  Directly in the center of the room stood a table with two large metal chests sitting on top.

Merkaeytl: “It’s too bad I don’t have my thieve’s picks with me…if only that accursed Braxis hadn’t taken them from me!”

Strider: “You know Braxis?”

Merkaeytl: (aghast) YOU know Braxis?”

Strider: “He traveled with us some.  A strange, but capable man.  Ironically I have some of his personal things, as he met a rather untimely demise.  I do believe that one of those items is a set of finely crafted thieve’s picks.  They are in my room, back in Hommlet.”

Merkaeytl: “Good riddance!  That traitor tricked me and left me to die.”

Aramek: “Never trust’d ‘im.”

Hauling the claimed treasure out of the underground chamber, the party began to discuss its next move in the safety of the tower.  Bandar and Strider were discussing options with Merk while the eager Aramek was left with the task of opening the chests.  As no one was capable of opening the chests with skill, the dwaven warrior was forced to break them open.  One chest held a mountain of coins while the other only contained two stoppered vials.  Aramek paid no attention to the discussion as he began to transfer the coins into a burlap sack he had brought along.  By the time he was done, the party was in a heated debate with one another.  Lathander wanted to bring the goblin along regardless of what the party decided to do, Strider and Bandar were interested in exploring the tunnel were they found the treasure, while Merk wanted to stay as far away from that tunnel as possible.  She provided an endless litany of what the previous party had faced in the tunnels under the temple…it wasn’t pretty.  His face contorted in mask of indecision, Strider finally turned to Aramek to provide the final guidance for the party.  

Strider: “What do you think we should do Aramek?”

Aramek’s reasoning didn’t have Merk’s flair or Lathander’s passion, but it seemed to work.  Jerking his thumb towards the looming structure of the Temple, Aramek spoke:

Aramek: “Why dun we go threu the frunt der?  Wer here anyw’y an I dun wun te mess with no Umber Hulks.”

Everyone seemed to like that idea.  However, no one sided with Lathander on the issue of the goblin.  Everyone insisted that he would only hinder the party’s efforts and so he would have to be left behind while the Temple was explored.  With a strange farewell to goblin, the party steeled its nerves for the journey ahead.

As grotesque as the exterior of the Temple was, it was no match for the interior décor.  Entering the huge bronze double doors revealed an antechamber of morbid nature.  Sunlight fought to pierce the stained-glass windows, shedding revolting colors all across the floor.  Unspeakable acts were carved into the marble walls and columns supporting the Temple’s structure.  Lathander instinctively activated his sunrod to scatter the shifting darkness as well as bolster his courage.  Aramek turned to Strider with a worried look on his face just as the noise of steel on stone began to ring through the vaulted ceiling of the Temple.  Angry with the lack of initiative on the enemy force, Strider resigned any notion of stealth and decided to use his rage as a weapon.

Strider: “We know you are out there!  Surrender or perish!”

At first there was deathly silence.  Slowly; however, the beginnings of chuckling could be heard.  With each passing moment another voice added to the inhuman laughter until the sound became deafening.  The party huddled closer for protection as the laughing was slowly replaced by shouts of unbridled hatred.

From the darkness poured a storm of javelins.

Strider: “Behind the pillars!”

Everyone moved quickly to react as the second volley thundered into their ranks.  It was difficult to form a counter-offensive, as few in the party could see in such dim lighting.  Lathander’s ingeniousness ended that dilemma when he threw his sunrod into the ranks of the enemy force, illuminating their numbers…it was unnerving.  

A huge division of lightly armored hobgoblins stood beside a smaller group of nearly naked goblins.  Directly behind this line was a heavily armored and equipped unit of very big hobgoblins.  Their leader was so large he could have nearly been a bugbear.  His only weapon was a double-bladed sword he held in one hand.  With slight gesture from him, the hobgoblins and goblins charged the party…it was complete mayhem.

Aramek and Strider tried to intercept the oncoming horde by themselves to buy some time for the rest of the party, but they quickly became surrounded.  Lathander tried to use his crossbow to take out as many goblins as he could, while Bandar pummeled the leader of the enemy force with wave after wave of psychic power.  Merkaeytl did not think that Bandar would succeed in his endeavor, so she hoped to stack the deck in the party’s favor by sneaking over to the leader and finishing him personally.

The ground was littered with dead bodies around the area where Strider fought.  He could feel the blood soaking up through his boots, but the enemy never relented.  Wave after wave came after him…even with his back to the pillar it seemed to do no good.  Their steel had cut him deeply and he did not know how long he could continue to hold out.  He witnessed Aramek incurring a similar struggle nearby.  Lathander also had troubles of his own…he and Bandar seemed to be doing battle with an enormous gorilla that had melded from the shadows and was now resolute in its efforts to tear them limb from limb.  _Where is Merk?_  It was difficult to scan the area and concentrate on four well-trained opponents.  The first hobgoblins that had engaged him were weak and easy to defeat, but these others fought well together, their greatswords forcing him to fall back into defensive stances.  His swords were growing heavy in his hands…the impact of deflecting his opponent’s blades had weakened him.

_I can’t hold on for much longer…_

Strider parried a mortal blow from one of the armored hobgoblins and quickly impaled him on _Shatterspike_.  As the body slid to the ground, Strider heard a familiar cry split the air.  Turning, he saw Merkaeytl sliding off the blade of the Leader.  Her body made a sickening sound as it hit the ground.  Without so much as a thought, the leader turned away and began to walk towards the battle.

_No…not again…It won’t happen again!_

Energized with a surge of anger, Strider fought like a demon.  He slashed and hacked away at the air around him, trying to drive his enemies towards Merkaeytl’s location.  When he saw Merk beginning to crawl feebly, his efforts redoubled.  Strider was nearly there, he began to see her more clearly as he forced his opponents backwards.

_Almost there…hold on Merk…_

Strider’s swordplay became increasingly reckless in its intensity, making it very difficult to predict and consequently nearly impossible to counter.  Merk’s body left a smear of blood on the ground as she slowly moved herself across the marble floor to safety.  Strider was nearly there when he saw a shape wink itself into existence directly over Merk’s prone body.  Apparently Merk saw the figure as well, as she looked up.  Strider knew the dagger was there even before he saw the steel gleam.

“MEEEEERKAAAAAAAAEEEEYYYTTTL!!!!!”

One instant…that was all.  For a split second Strider had forgotten he was fighting others.  His master had always taught him that in a real battle, life and death were separated only by an instant.  Strider saw the sword approaching his throat.  He felt the impact of the blade as it tore through his esophagus…he knew that he was dead even before he hit the ground.  The pain came again and again afterwards, but he was already drifting.  Before the darkness took him, he saw Aramek screaming something.

_Good luck old friend…survive…protect them as I could not…_


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## SolidSnake (Feb 4, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 4, Part 2-Justice, Law, and Morality (or “What do you call 100 Priests of St. Cuthbert chained to the bottom of the ocean?”)*

The shock of the of the impact sent Bandar flying backwards onto the marble floor.  He knew he was screaming, but he didn’t know if it was from the pain or Strider’s death.  It seemed hopeless: Lathander fighting the monstrosity alone and Aramek fending off the remaining hobgoblin warriors…this was the end.  It was then that Bandar felt hands upon his shoulders…grunting as he forced himself to turn, Bandar found himself staring into the eyes of a gnome.  The man had on white robes and symbol of Pelor was proudly displayed on his breast.  White energy coursed through his hands into washed the some of the pain away from Bandar’s body.  Once the gnome had finished healing him, a kind smile spread across his face.

Gnome: “My name is Doctor Noh and we are here to help.”

Bandar: “We?”

Bandar turned his attention from Dr. Noh and began to see what the priest was talking about.  A male human with simple brown robes stood next to the pair, weaving intricate spells of arcane power while another stronger-looking human man in heavy armor charged into the fray.  The wizard unleashed a flurry of magical energies through the air, dropping most of the resistance with ease as the warrior barreled into the ranks of the armored hobgoblins.  With most of the pressure off, Aramek was able to assist Lathander in the battle with the great behemoth.

Dr. Noh: “Stand up and fight, for our assistance does not ensure victory…arise!”

With his last words, Dr. Noh drew a small mace from his belt and charged into battle.

_I won’t loose Strider!_

Regaining his footing, Bandar concentrated all of his remaining strength into one final wave of power.  With a cry of rage, the dwarf sent of a rippling torrent of psychic energy into the gorilla’s back, burning away fur and flesh.  The beast howled in pain, turning its attention back onto Bandar…a mistake Aramek wasted little time in capitalizing upon and consequently ending the beast’s reign of terror.

Bandar heard the hobgoblin leader scream in agony as the human wizard sent a seemingly endless barrage of magical bolts of energy into him.  His knightly companion; unfortunately, was not doing so well.  The armored hobgoblins that had dispatched Strider used a similarly brutal tactic to fight their new adversary.  The discipline that had spawned them was able to overcome whatever training the knight had amassed in the few years of his life.  Although his swordsmanship was incredible to behold, ultimately his life simply bought the remaining members of the party enough time to regroup and mount a counteroffensive.  The hobgoblins also resolved to regroup after watching most of their companions fall to a single relentless spellcaster.  The armored hobgoblins encircled the leader and the warlock who had killed Merkaeytl…his magical affiliations were obvious from the continued healing he provided his master.

Dr. Noh dropped a globe of silence to prevent the warlock from providing aid to the leader, while the human wizard continued his magical assault upon the remaining hobgoblins.  It wasn’t long before Aramek and Bandar made mincemeat out of the crippled enemy force.  The warlock attempted an escape, but Aramek’s hatchet put a stop to that dream.  The grizzled dwarven warrior took one last look at the carnage surrounding him before he felt that the immediate threat had ended.  With a small grin, Aramek’s let the warhammer in his hand fall to the ground before collapsing himself.  Dr. Noh was immediately by the warrior’s side, tending to the mortal wounds inflicted upon him.  Bandar, Lathander, and the human wizard called Feresay made sure that every single one of the hobgoblins was dead by ramming swords into all of their skulls.  Once Dr. Noh was certain that Aramek was going to pull through just fine, he went to check up on his knightly companion.  Unfortunately, the divine warrior that had called himself Xoad was beyond any powers the priest of Pelor possessed.

The victory that everyone had hoped for did not come as expected.  Instead of the glory such epic battles bring in song, the feeling everyone had in their hearts was one of monumental loss.  The grim task of removing the party’s dead from the Temple was done in silence.  Once all three bodies were outside, Dr. Noh and Lathander began to perform the last rites on the corpses.  Xoad was buried a short walk from the Temple walls.  Lathander was about to burying Merkaeytl and Strider when the catatonic Aramek awoke from his state of reverie.

Aramek: “I don’t believe it…they can’t die…”

Lathander: “I know this is hard for you Aramek.  It is hard for us all, but they are dead and there is nothing we can do about it now.  Pelor has sent them to a better place.”

Aramek: “I don’t accept that!  We should bring ‘em back to Hommlet and figure out a way to fix ‘em.”

Feresay: (prophetically) “Their spirts will rejoin the universe and continue the cycle of eternity.”

Lathander: (angry) “Be quiet Feresay.”  (more gently to Aramek) “What can we possibly do?  None of us have the power to bring the dead back to life.”

Aramek: “Rufus’ll know what to do….I’ll take Strider’s body, the rest of you get Merk’s.”

Dr. Noh: “Carrying two dead bodies back all that distance will be taxing…it’s a shame we don’t have a cart.”

Giving up on the fact that Aramek might budge on the issue, Lathander decided to be constructive in finding a solution to the problem.

Lathander: “Tianden might have one, but more importantly we should tell him that Strider died…he seemed to like Strider a great deal.”

A look of distress passed over Aramek’s face, but he said nothing.  Dr. Noh used the time it took to get to Nulb to ask Lathander questions about Tianden and the strange hamlet he lived in.  If Dr. Noh was afraid of the mysterious Tianden, he certainly gave no outward signs.  

Predictably, Tianden was seated inside the abandoned store Lathander had found him in the first time.  Only he and Dr. Noh entered the structure, leaving Feresay and Aramek to look over the bodies outside.

Tianden: “Lathander…good to see you again.”

Lathander: “It is good to see you again as well Tianden.  I only wish the circumstances of my arrival could be more jovial.”

Tianden: “What’s wrong?”

Lathander: “Both Strider and Merkaeytl perished during our exploration of the Temple.  I am here to ask a favor.  We need a cart to carry the bodies back to Hommlet.  Do you have such a thing?”

Tianden: “I am truly sorry about Strider, Lathander.  I do have a cart and a horse to pull it…they are yours.  I only ask a question: ‘Do you have any money?’”

Lathander: (confused) “Some…why?”

Tianden: “Good, you’ll need it.  I will be joining you on your trip down to Hommlet in order to plead your case to the local priestess of St. Cuthbert.  She will not help your friends easily…it will take some persuasion.”

Lathander: “Thank you Tianden…but why would we ask her?  Rufus is the leader of the town after all.”

Tianden: “Because Lathander, she is the only one for miles that could do anything to fix this problem…”

Lathander: (very confused) “How do you know that for sure?” 

Tianden: “That is a story for another time.  Now collect your friends and your money so that we can be on our way.”

Lathander: “I forgot to mention that we hid the money we acquired near the Temple.  I must go back and get it.”

Tianden: “I will wait here with Aramek and your gnomish companion while you go get it then.”

It wasn’t long before Lathander and Feresay returned with the hobgoblin plunder.  Aramek and Tianden had already loaded the bodies onto the cart and secured the horse by the time they got back.  Tianden led the horse and the rest of the party down the path towards Hommlet.  As they began to approach the town, the scarred man pulled the hood of his black cloak closer to his face.  He did not allow anyone to stop until the cart and its contents rested in front of the church dedicated to the worship of St. Cuthbert.  Hommlet was a quiet town, with little in the way of daily entertainment so it came as no surprise to anyone that a crowd began to gather around the returning heroes and their slain companions.

With some urging from Tianden, Lathander ascended the steps to the church and knocked on the door.  The priest of Pelor was greeted by one of Canoness, acolytes: a man by the name of Derim.  The youngest of the priests, Derim had not been completely absorbed by the dogma of St. Cuthbert yet…consequently his manner was gentle and kind.

Lathander: “Could you please ask Canoness Y’dey to come tend to our fallen?”

Derim: “Yes, right away!”

Derim didn’t even bother to close the door as he bolted back into the church to find the great priestess.  A few minutes later, the familiar cold face of Canoness emerged from the confines of the church.

Canoness: “I heard that there was an emergency, Lathander.  What seems to be the problem?”

Lathander: “Our friends, Strider and Merkaeytl, have perished in our battle with the Temple.  Is there anything you can do to help us?”

Canoness: “You wish St. Cuthbert to bring them back from the realm of the dead?”

Lathander had to subdue the shame he felt that he was not a greater conduit of Pelor’s strength when he answered her.

Lathander: “Yes.”

Canoness: “Have the murders been slain?”

Lathander: “Yes, but-“

Canoness: “Then justice has been served.”

With that the priestess turned on her heel and began to reenter the church.  In desperation Lathander turned towards the shrouded Tianden pleadingly.  He could not see any of the man’s facial expressions as the hood of his cloak was draped over his face.  It was then that a voice broke the silence…

Rufus: “These men fought bravely to ensure that the land surrounding our town was safe.  Couldn’t you make an exception?”

Lathander hadn’t noticed it before, but the crowd surrounding the cart was huge and all of the town’s leadership was contained within it…Burne, Rufus, Elmo, Jennithar, Yether, and even Jaroo.  The priestess stopped to answer the old warrior.

Canoness: “The law does not make exceptions Rufus.”

Tianden: “Perhaps the law doesn’t make exceptions, but there are circumstances which have no laws.  Lathander forgot to tell you who he brought back with him from his adventures at the Temple.”

Tianden strode forward and ripped the hood from his head, exposing his marred face to the light of the early morning.  A gasp went up from everyone…even Canoness.

Tianden: “That’s right Canoness, it’s me.  I’m sure you recognize your handiwork and the man you inflicted it upon: Lareth the Beautiful!”

Elmo: “We killed you!”

Lathander heard swords being unsheathed and saw many of the town guards begin to approach Tianden.  Instinctively, Lathander interposed himself between the scarred man and the closing mob.

Lathander: “No, don’t hurt him!”

Lareth: (with a small grin) “Don’t worry Lathander, they can’t hurt me without a trial.  Besides, now that you have captured Lareth the Beautiful, even Canoness’ twisted system of ethics won’t be able to resist your request.  Strider and Merk will be back in no time.”

Lathander stood agape while Elmo and the town guard bound Lareth and dragged him off towards the town hall.

Canoness: “All of you may go home now.  Lareth will be tried and sentenced shortly.  There is no danger to the town any longer.  Lathander, bring your friends inside the church while I go attend legal matters.

Lathander: “My friends will take care of the bodies.  I want to speak at the trial.”

Canoness: “Very well.”

The old Town Hall was used as a courtroom for the procedure.  Canoness was asked to preside as judge due to her religious affiliations with justice.  Rufus, Burne, and all of the old adventurers were asked to give first hand accounts of Lareth’s activities.  Everyone had something awful to say about Lareth.  Canoness sat impassively, listening to everyone’s testimony.  Once everyone’s accounts of Lareth’s crimes against humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes, and the natural order (courtesy of Jaroo) was finished Canoness asked Lareth if he had anything to say in his defense.  In response Lareth smiled deeply, allowing his stare to linger on Jaroo before turning to Canoness.

Lareth: “I’ll see you in hell witch.”

Canoness: “Since Lareth has nothing to say in his defense-“

Lathander: “I will speak for him.”

Canoness: “Proceed.”

Lathander: “I don’t think Lareth should be executed.  I think the man you used to know has changed.  Why else would he have come here knowing that he would executed only to save two people that he hardly even knew?  He has sacrificed himself for others and therefore shown that he is capable of mercy and compassion.  Executing this man is wrong.  He is not the man you know as Lareth…his name is Tianden.”

Canoness: “Thank you for offering a dissenting opinion Lathander.  I have weighed what you have said against the evidence provided by Rufus, Burne, Elmo, Jaroo, and Yether.  My judgment is as follows: Lareth is to be hung in spite of his recent altruistic behaviors.  Lareth is to be hung immediately and his body placed in an unmarked grave.”

As Lareth was led out of the Town Hall, Lathander bolted to his feet.

Lathander: “This is unjust!  Canoness is not impartial to this judgement!  She wants him to die…how can this trial be fair?!”

Canoness: “Lathander, I am incapable of bias as I follow St. Cuthbert’s tenets.  His justice is blind.”

Speechless, Lathander watched, through the window of the Town Hall, as was they dragged Lareth behind the building and hung him from the nearest tree.  Since there was no way to erect a proper gallows, Lathander had to watch the man strangle to death.  He wasn’t sure how long he had been at the window staring, but Lareth’s body was no longer attached the noose hanging from the tree when he awoke from his contemplation.  The creak of floorboards alerted him that someone else was in the room…turning, he came face to face with Yether.

Lathander: (the disgust obvious in his tone) “Why didn’t you say anything?  I thought you were a priest of Pelor.”

Yether: “I am sorry Lathander, but I couldn’t forgive him for what he did.  I had to watch my cousin die at his hand.  Could you forgive someone that killed someone close to you?”

Lathander: “Don’t presume that you know anything about me!”

Flushed, Lathander walked briskly from the Town Hall.  He was determined to exact the price from the sacrifice Lareth had undergone.  Derim informed Lathander that the ritual would take a week, as Canoness would have ask the spirits if they wished to return and then ask for St. Cuthbert’s direct intervention to free them from the world of the dead.  He also informed Lathander of the monetary costs of such an undertaking would be substantial…apparently, Lareth’s life had only bought them the right to resurrect their friends.  It took the entire party’s wealth to pay for the ritual, but no one raised a word of complaint.

Everyone occupied themselves during the week of rest.  Vesta offered free rooms to the party during the week, as they were in no position to pay her with all of their wealth invested in the ritual.  Bandar sat in his room brooding, Lathander prayed near the town’s graveyard, Dr. Noh visited the Temple of Pelor, Feresay all but disappeared, and Aramek used his personal funds to buy every available keg of ale from the local elven brewer: Thaenai Sevensong.  Dr. Noh was well received at the temple; Yether even gave him several divine scrolls to aid the party on their continued adventures…he would have given them to Lathander, but the younger priest wouldn’t even speak with him.  Aramek’s agenda only became obvious by the end of the week, when he began telling everyone that he was throwing a party at the Inn of the Welcome Wench…with free ale.

The sun rose and fell, bringing forth the hour of Strider’s and Merk’s resurrection.  The entire party waited all day outside the church, most of the members having hardly slept the night before.  Their patience finally paid off when Strider and Merkaeytl walked down the steps of St. Cuthbert’s church and back into their lives.  Lots of hugs were exchanged and laughter seemed to be brimming from everyone’s soul.  Aramek put an end to that; however, when he slugged Strider in the jaw so hard that he fell to the ground.  Everyone was too stunned to react.

Aramek: “Don’t ye ever die on me again or I’ll kick yer arse!  Now, everyone explain te Strider and Merk wut’s goin’ on so that we can go party!”

Rubbing his face, Strider stood up and watched Aramek walk down the road towards the Inn of the Welcome Wench.  He couldn’t help but smile…_I missed you too Aramek…_


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## SolidSnake (Feb 12, 2002)

*Harvester 5, 591 CY*

_I have seen the end today...the world is covered in Darkness...all hope is lost.  The remaining Oracle in my services has seen it...but more than that, she has felt it.  There are many possible futures, but only one will emerge victorious.  The Chosen I had spoke about before were seen leaving the Demiplane of Dread prematurely and thereby negating their ultimate purpose.  With this future, other more horrific futures began to emerge.  True, some possible futures were filled with a small measure of hope but how to divine which is the more probable?  One of the possible futures nearly became history when the man known as Strider died in the Temple of Elemental Evil...with his death, the Oracle saw the dissolution of the party and consequently my dreams of peace on Flanaess.  Luckily for us, Fate was not finished with him just yet.  

I realize that should the Chosen fail, there is little I or anyone else can do to save Oerth itself, but this party of adventurers that I have managed to gather to Hommlet might be able to turn the tide...I sound foolish don't I?  As if I could gather the forces of Good together to vanquish the Great Evil like in the fairy tales...no, I must admit to myself that the Chosen are our only hope and the adventurers I have worked so hard to garner among these troubled times will only serve to buy us time.

The strands of fate are decieving indeed.  Like a web, there is almost no way to know if one is seeing the actual strands or the pattern on wishes to see.  With a slight jerk, the whole thing can unravel...but the web does tell a tale of what could be provided the right strands align properly.  I see what I must do now...I had hoped to avoid this task, but no one can escape their duty in the end.  I have read some of Azalin's work; enough to know the man behind the words.  He spoke of many properties of magic unattainable through normal practice that could be reached provided certain corners were cut.  I feel a great weight upon me, but I must cross a threshold that I have forbidden myself to even touch.  For many years I have gathered artifacts and knowledge that could disrupt the nature of peace on this world...one of which was the codex Azalin wrote about his experiments in magic...may the Gods have mercy...

-Mordenkainen, High Defender of Flanaess and Leader of the Circle of Eight_


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## SolidSnake (Feb 12, 2002)

*Black Mark on Envelope*

I notice that the envelope icon next to my story hour has a black dot on it...what is up with this!  Am I being "black listed" here?


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## SolidSnake (Feb 16, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 5- A Night of Revelry and Consequence (or “Where the party at?”)*

The people of Hommlet had not been so excited in ages.  

The word had spread that Aramek was throwing a huge party at the Inn of the Welcome Wench and had bought up all the ale in town for the event.  With nothing else going on, promises of free beer, and the knowledge that all the notables would be there, everyone in town planned to show up. The townspeople flocked to the Inn, so many that the crowd swelled and spilled onto the streets.  

As the assembled numbers grew, Aramek kicked off the party by opening the first keg and letting out a roar “Let me party begin!”  The masses let out a cheer, the local band struck up a catchy tune, and the party commenced.  The brawny dwarf was in such a happy mood from the return of Strider and Merkaetyl that he insisted on paying the bill for every person in the party, and they acquiesced.  

Aramek wanted to start with a bang, so he offered Ulek’s Elixir to his fellow adventurers, warning them that it was a dwarven spirit and could fell a horse!  That description discouraged everyone except for the weird sorcerer who had joined the group, Phaersay.  The quirky man accepted the elixir despite Aramek’s warnings, and the two took the shot together.  The burly dwarf was fine, but Phaersay was immediately unconscious.  Bandar, the self-appointed caretaker of the rowdy group, checked Phaersay’s pulse and took him outside for air - and there he remained until the next afternoon!  Others took note of the drink’s effects and avoided it entirely.  Lathander chose to sample several cocktails, under the watchful eye of Dr. Noh, his fellow Cleric of Pelor.

Merkaeytl and Strider both drank wine that loosened their restraints and their desires.  Merk’s fragile health from the resurrection helped the wine go straight to her head, and she was soon dancing flirtatiously with the men around the bar.  To the encouraging cheers of the crowd and especially Aramek’s rowdy hoots, she took to the tables and displayed some energetic elven steps.  For every boisterous advance Merk took, Strider matched it elsewhere; when she danced closely with a guy, he danced with two women; when she hiked up her black leather halter-top, he took off his shirt.  As the two competed, they watched each other out of the corner of their eyes, and it was clear to them and many around them how fast the sparks were flying.  As the lithe elf did a gyrating dance on their table, Burne and Rufus gave each other a look of surprise (they were probably thinking: _this_ was one of the party seeking to crush the Temple of Elemental Evil?  She’s dancing on the tables after one drink!  Lord help us…) They caught a glimpse of Aramek in the background, doing his third keg stand to the loud chants of his assembled admirers, and could not help but laugh at the young and fun-loving group.

Blissful Merk one-upped Strider in the flirting contest – as he danced without his shirt with some women, she sat Lathander down and did a sexy, eye-popping lap dance.  Once it was done, Dr, Noh helped the blushed and sweating cleric outside for a breather.  Strider responded by stripping to his loincloth, to the cheers of drunk Aramek.  Finally Merkaetyl and Strider began dancing together, getting closer and closer, and spent the evening dancing and kissing.  The sparks turned to flame...

Bandar surveyed the scene early in the morning, as the crowd thinned out and the party began winding down.  The psion had leaned Phaersay against the wall of the Inn, and there he remained.  The watchful dwarf saw Aramek truly drunk, yelling happily and incoherently, crashing around, even tossing an empty keg through the window of the Inn!  Lathander had mixed too many types of alchohol and was sick before he passed out on a bench, with little Dr. Noh tending to him.  Of particular note, Strider and Merk stumbled upstairs, presumably to Strider’s room.  The celebration petered out, though Aramek refused to let it rest – finally he was arrested after he streaked through the streets of Hommlet, naked as a hairy dwarf can be, howling at the moon, knocking loudly on peoples’ doors and yelling for them to come back to his party because it had just begun.  Aramek was none too pleased with Bandar, having “No respect in me fer non-drinkers,” and found that his fellow dwarf was a “Muther hen!”

The next morning Merkaeytl awoke in a bed that was not her own as the sunlight streamed through a window.  Her mind was a muddle, so she reacted with a start when she saw Strider in bed next to her.  Letting out a gasp of surprise, she wracked her brain to remember what had happened…even after considerable effort, she could remember nothing after she began dancing with Strider.  _Oh no!_  As she delicately slipped out of bed, she found that she was topless and that broke her daze.  “STRIDER!”  she yelled, throwing his pants at his face to wake him up.  The warrior just turned over in his sleep.  She was ready to throttle him, but the thought cut her short: _Did we…?_ the question lingered, but Merk decided against waking up Strider, instead dressing and slipping out.

Downstairs she found the Inn looking as if a hurricane had swept through.  Bandar, Vesta, and a few others were cleaning up broken bottles, broken glass, spilled food and drink, and the rest of the mess.  Merk took the grim dwarf aside and asked whether he knew what happened between her and Strider, but he could only tell her what he’d seen while they were downstairs.  Bandar could see her consternation and squeezed the elf’s delicate hand supportively.  She forced a smile and went on a walk in the woods to clear her head, with her ferret Slim scurrying after.

The rest of the group took all day to rouse themselves, clean up, and become active.  By dinner time, everyone but Aramek was awake and seated in the Inn.  Strider had no idea why Merk was avoiding his gaze, and he wracked his brains trying to remember what had happened after they had gotten together on the dance floor.  It was all a blur… as he thought, Bandar was telling the others some of the highlights of the celebration in a matter-of-fact manner.  Few would have believed him if he weren’t so serious and meticulous about his recounting.  The gruff dwarf finished with “I guess we’ll be ready to go by tomorrow.  I’m going to go water Aramek.”

As the group broke up, Lathander drew Merkaeytl aside and asked her in an apologetic tone if she could refrain from dancing for him in the future.  Not in a forgiving mood, Merk let him fumble around until he admitted that the lap dance was very good, it just made him uncomfortable.  After toying with Lathander and then agreeing not to repeat the dance, Merk took a deep breath and faced Strider, who lingered to talk with her.

Strider:  Merkaeytl, about last night…

Merk: (sharply) Did anything happen?

Strider:  (confused) Huh?  What are you talking about?

Merk:  I awoke in your bed with my shirt off, and you had only your loincloth on.  I ask again, _did anything happen?_

Strider:  (taken aback, fumbling)  …woke in my bed?  You did?  I don’t remember…I mean, I’m sure you did, but only if you wanted to…

Merk: (deadly quiet) What did you say?

Strider: (desperate)  Well…I…uh…we wouldn’t…you know…do it unless you were OK…I’m not like that…

Ignoring Strider’s fumbling and attempts to apologize, Merk went off on him, screaming in the middle of Hommlet’s town square, in earshot of everyone.  She ranted about Strider ‘taking advantage’ of her for five straight minutes without a pause, then suddenly turned and stormed off, leaving Strider bewildered in her wake, flushed red from embarrassment.  As the comely elf stalked off, the beleaguered warrior thought he saw Slim, Merk’s ferret, sticking its tongue out at him as it rode her shoulder away.  _What a day…_

The following morning the party had recovered and was prepared to leave.  Nobody knew where Phaersay was – he had apparently wandered off and hadn’t been seen since.  Merk showed up at the group’s breakfast table in the Inn, but she was not outfitted for travel.  Without looking at Strider, she gave the group a partial map of the first dungeon level of the Temple of Elemental Evil.  She briskly explained that her friend who had been with the party that attacked the Temple the last time had sketched her this map to help future parties in exploring the dungeon.  The beautiful elf then announced that she was in debt to Burne for an expensive spell to partially restore her health, and she was too weak to adventure right now.  Merk said she had signed on to work with Burne in his laboratory, learning about magic and earning money as she helped the experienced wizard.  With that brief explanation, she took off, leaving the group momentarily stunned.  Strider would have objected, but he decided it was best that Merk stay out of trouble, he didn’t want anything bad happening to her like last time.  _I must protect her – I can’t live with myself if I lose another love.  I was already helpless to save her, I won’t let that happen again._

After an uneventful three-day journey to the Temple, the party stood again before the foul edifice, all shuddering involuntarily.  Steeling their nerves against the hazards that awaited them, the adventurers cautiously entered the top level of the Temple, and found the battlefield as they’d left it.  Apparently, nobody below cared about the hobgoblin army on the top level, not even bothering to search them!  The heroes found mostly the gear of their dead enemies – pots, bedrolls, weapons, food, and other junk.  Besides the many altars and the central dais, there was little else to see.  Beneath the altar, where the last party attacking the temple had fought earth elementals, the group found only huge manacles hanging from the wall.  Presumably the Dire Ape had resided here until its release.  Strangely, no trace of the former hallways and features around the room were still visible – the old passages were gone, and not even the dwarves could find any evidence of different stone-work to indicate where someone had closed up the area.  The map was apparently useless, or the old first level of the temple had disappeared without trace.

Going back upstairs, Aramek started bashing down doors – Merk was not there to pick locks.  The search turned up huge bags stuffed with coins and chests with assorted treasures.  Every possible passage to the lower levels was blocked off with collapsed rubble or seemed never to have existed.  Frustrated at the unexpected twist, the group proceeded outside and searched the cellar in the building to the north of the temple, trying to find an underground route into the lower levels.  They found nothing in the cellar, leaving the tower as the only remaining means of entrance.  Soon the adventurers were descending beneath the tower to the room Lathander’s goblin had revealed to them last time, and they entered the tunnel they had seen before.  After so many switchbacks and turns that even the dwarves had no idea what direction they were going, the passage sloped up to the surface.  Opening a door, they came out in a well outside a dilapidated, abandoned cottage in the forest, nowhere near where they expected to be.

Clearly there was no way into the Temple of Elemental Evil, if there was anything still down there.  Certainly, nothing came or went from its depths without magic!  Having no way to get in, the group threw up their hands and returned to the top level to gather their treasure.  There was so much to carry they had to leave a few bigger pieces behind, and Strider constructed a sled of sorts to drag the gear.  Even so, the journey back to Hommlet was longer than usual, and they arrived tired.  At least this trip back was more cheerful than the last!

In Hommlet the adventurers met up with Merk and she accompanied them to a room in the Inn, where they sorted the treasure.  The elf had had a chance to recover her composure, but she still gave Strider a wide berth.  Needing someone to open the locked chests, Bandar went searching for Phaersay and discovered the bizarre sorcerer in a tree in town.  The sorcerer apparently already knew that the group had returned and needed his help opening the chests.  As the two walked back to the Inn, there was an awkward conversation.  Phaersay’s random and mysterious comments about Boccob’s will and guidance were foreign to down-to-earth Bandar

The sorcerer soon opened the chests as the party asked, revealing more assorted valuables, then he wandered off again.  Everyone looked puzzled at the strange man’s unpredictability, but they soon were absorbed by the task at hand.  Merk took the valuables the party did not want or need and pawned them off to the halfling merchant Joeman Dart, who drives a very hard bargain.  He’s bought most of the groups’ odds and ends since the group returned with the first goods found in the Moathouse.  

Strider insisted that the money go towards restoring Merk’s remaining health problems from the ghost and resurrection, but she would have none of it.  She was not planning to adventure and did not need the money as much as Strider or Lathander, who had similar health problems.  Also, she was not used to hand-outs, and didn’t want the group spending so much on her.  After much debate and posturing with Strider, an argument Aramek and Lathander tried to avoid to no avail.  Finally, Merk and Strider agreed that Merk would accept them paying off her debt if Strider got himself and Lathander’s abilities restored, which would cost most of the group’s money.  Devilishly, the warrior paid Cannoness the remaining amount to have Merk restored whenever she stopped by the temple, knowing that he would be out of town when she learned of the ruse.  The rest of the group trusted Strider’s judgement on using their money, and nobody noticed that their leader had spent nearly all the group’s wealth on Merk!

After securing rations and new gear, the party was ready for the next step: but what was that step?  The Temple seemingly abandoned, they had only one other option to pursue – finding Redithador’s killers.  Strider’s face grew grim at the very mention of whomever had slain the elven bard in cold blood.  The note mentioned the village of Rastor, beyond the Kron hills, the area Dr. Noh grew up in.  The hills were home to the gnomes, and not too friendly to human outsiders because the gnomes were tired of Verbobonc rule and kept to themselves.  Two weeks of journeying to Rastor passed without incident.  As they moved through the Kron hills, the good doc convincing any gnomish scouts that the group meant no harm and was just passing through.

Rastor was a rough border town downhill from a mostly peaceful orcish settlement and on the edge of the infamous Crater ridge mines – dwarven mines that had been overrun by a tide of monsters some time ago.  The group entered, surprised at the number of orc and half-orcs they saw alongside people of all the demi-human races.  Entering the seedy Dirk Tavern, the adventurers split off to glean information from the bar’s patrons.  Dr. Noh spoke with two gnomes, Aramek talked to some dwarves, Lathander tried to speak with some men, and Strider spoke with an orc and half-orc while Bandar observed them all.  After some time, they gathered again and discussed what they had learned.  Apparently the mines were still dangerous, crawling with monsters.  People with ocre-colored robes travel back and forth to the mines and purchase things in town, though they talk to few of those in town.  Hearing that Tal Chumish, a man mentioned in Redithador’s note, was a wagoner in Rastor, they tromped off to visit his business on the edge of town, only to learn that he had gone to the Inn.

Tal Chumish was quite a talker.  The party waited for Strider to speak with him, but the colorful wagoner never seemed to end his tales to his friends so Strider could slip into the conversation.  As last the warrior pulled Tal aside and talked to him about Redithador’s note.  Tal said that he didn’t know Redithador, nor what the note meant.  He rents out wagons all the time, some to men in ochre-colored robes, but had no idea what they did with the wagons or where they went.  Strider attempted to explain to Tal that he may be in some danger, the man who wrote the note was killed, but the wagoner had a hard time taking Strider seriously.  Frustrated, the warrior ended the conversation by saying “You better not know more than you are telling me.  Keep an eye out, you may be in some danger.”  Then Strider left the Dirk Tavern, followed closely by the rest of the group.


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## SolidSnake (Feb 17, 2002)

*Question for the readers*

I am currently constructing a website for the campaign...consequently I will be uploading all of the sessions to the site.  My question is: would you like me to continue to post to the boards regularly or simply post a link when the site is done?


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## Rune (Feb 18, 2002)

*Please,*

Please continue posting here!


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## SolidSnake (Feb 18, 2002)

*Re: Please,*



			
				Rune said:
			
		

> *Please continue posting here! *




For you Rune...anything


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## Rune (Feb 18, 2002)

.


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## SolidSnake (Feb 19, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 6- “If ignorant both of your enemy and yourself, you are certain to be in peril.” –Sun Tzu, The Art of War (or “OK, so when they come around the corner, we hit them on the head…”)*


The group was discussing their next move outside of the Dirk Tavern when they spotted an unusual site along Rastor’s main road.  Approaching was a valiant half-elven knight, mounted upon a majestic steed.  His polished armor reflected the rays of the sun, bringing its engravings into sharp focus for all to see.  Dr. Noh and Lathander immediately recognized some of the symbols on his armor as those of Heironious, the Valiant God of Justice.  Without so much as a pause, the paladin rode his horse through the throng of onlookers toward the gathered party.  His dismount was as abrupt as his personality, for he began to speak the second his armored feet hit the ground.

Paladin: “My name is Sentian Thann and I have heard of great evil in the mines not far from this village.  I seek your aid in not only destroying this evil, but also to find one of my men.  He was sent here to confirm the rumors of this mine, but he has not returned.  Will you help me?”

Everyone was stunned, both from the intensity of the proclamation and the amount of information it carried.  Strider was the first to recover his composure and extend his hand.

Strider: “Good to meet you Sentian.  My name is Strider and I too am interested in the mines.”

With some instance from Bandar, Strider led Sentian and the rest of the group out of earshot into a nearby alley.

Strider: “Our group has been chasing some members of a strange cult in order to bring them to justice...that path has brought us here.”

Sentian: “The man I spoke of before, Tenaris Glimmerdawn, was on a quest for the Citadel when-"

Lathander: “The Citadel?!  You are from Greyhawk!”

Sentian: “Yes, I am stationed there.”

Lathander: “I trained in Greyhawk as well…”

Aramek: (sarcastically) “Well I’m glad that we’re all chummy now.  Let’s get us some supplies and get going.”

Strider: “Aramek is right, we should stock up on supplies before we head out.  Since we are going into the mines, I would suggest stabling your horse…the man who can arrange that is inside, his name is Tal Chammish.”

Sentian: “Very well, I will make arrangements for Xerxes and meet you at the edge of town shortly.”

With that the group dissolved, each man running last minute errands before heading towards the edge of town.  Strider even had the forethought of obtaining a local guide to steer the group clear of danger on their trek up the mountain.  Unfortunately for Aramek, the only available guide was a half-orc with an unpronounceable name.  The dwarf kept his mouth shut, but his eyes never left the half-orc as they traveled.  A few miles into the journey, the guide stopped the party in the middle of the path and began to sniff the air.  Aramek snorted in disgust at the sight, but his smirk quickly gave way to shock as he saw five figures materials out of thin air and converge on his companions.  One was a large orc with a great axe, another was a human priestess donning familiar ochre-colored robes, the third was a demonic-looking witch, and the last was the human killer Merkaeytl had described earlier…leading them all was a man the group had fought with before: Chatrilon.

Without mercy Chatrilon thrust his rapier into Dr. Noh chest, while the human and orc warriors hacked Lathander to pieces…the witch and the priestess amused themselves by pelting the party from afar with dark energies.  Lathander recovered quickly from the assault and attempted to paralyze the orc attacking him.  Dr. Noh stumbled backwards and began to heal the deadly wound Chatrilon had inflicted upon him, while Bandar caused the earth to quake with his psionic powers dropping both the human and orc warriors to the ground.  Strider and Sentian engaged the adept Chratilon, but his sword proved to be to fast and accurate to allow any contact.  Aramek, on the other hand, put an end to the witch’s magical reign of terror by caving in her face with his warhammer.  The once fearsome enemy force that had hoped to destroy the party had been reduced to Chatrilon and a priestess.  Any thoughts of victory that the enemy had were quickly dispelled as the flat of Strider’s blade slammed into Chatrilon’s face, sending him reeling backwards.  Sensing the futility of the battle (and the pain of a broken nose), Chatrilon glided away from the battle, produced a wand from his belt, and disappeared.  Sentian finished the orc with a swift slash to the throat, while Aramek killed the priestess with a single blow to the head.  Lathander was more interested in answered questions than revenge, so he merely knocked the human warrior unconscious.  While Strider tied him up, Aramek and Bandar removed his arms and armor.  The half-orc guide looked on with disinterest, having secured the northern stretch of road with his longbow while the party fought Chatrilon and his thugs.

The human killer was just as Merk described: pale blue eyes and a wicked scar that ran across his nose.  Aramek held onto his weapon, a serrated bastard sword, while Strider shook him awake.  The man’s eyes opened slowly and deliberately.  He surveyed his surroundings without any hint of emotion.

Strider: “Who sent you.”

The man looked at Strider and then spit blood on the ground in front of him.

Strider: “Talk!”

The man responded with silence.

Strider: “Are you not speaking because you have no tongue?  Open your mouth!”

Ripping his dagger free from its sheath, Strider jammed the point into the human’s mouth and tried to pry it open.  Unfortunately, his efforts ended in frustration as only a thin line of blood trickled down the man’s lip.  Angry, the ranger began to slice the man’s cheek open in savage fury.  Bandar immediately reacted to this behavior by shoving Strider in the chest and watching him topple backwards onto the ground.

Bandar: “What are you doing?!  Stop it!”

Strider: (after picking himself up off the ground) “Get out of my way!  You followed me here, not the other way around!  If you don’t like the way I do things then LEAVE!”

Bandar: “I followed you because I thought you were a good man.  You can’t treat prisoners this way…it isn’t right.  There must be rules...”

Strider: “This man tried to kill Merk!  This is a quest for vengeance, not some pretty thing you have concocted in your mind!”

Aramek: “Aye, he did try to kill her, but it seems he didn’t do a very good job lad.  It looks like he ain’t gonna talk though.  I’ve seen his type before…he’s a mercenary.  We should just give him to our guide to turn over to the authorities back in Rastor, since we can’t take him with us.”

Sentian: “I concur with Aramek.  Torturing this man won’t undo what he has done Strider.”

Strider: “Very well.”

Although the communication was difficult, the party somehow managed to convince the half-orc guide to take the bound prisoner back to Rastor for the sum of a platinum piece.  The guide directed the party the rest of the way through the use of a diagram drawn in the dirt.  On the way to their destination, Strider tried to explain his actions to the patient Lathander.  The priest nodded in understanding, but his worried frown hinted at his unease around the once-perfect leader of the party.

The entrance to the mines was exactly where the half-orc said it would be, surprising the suspicious Aramek.  The grand double doors were embedded into the side of a cliff face.  Strider’s keen eyes immediately saw the arrow slits carved in the stone near the entrance, but interestingly he noticed no movement within.  Easing the doors open, he and Aramek led the party inside.  Torches lit the interior, revealing disturbing murals of sacrifices and demons.  On the ground were four symbols: an upside down brown triangle, an amber diamond, a white circle, and a blue-green square.  The main antechamber branched off into two other hallways and stopped at another set of double doors.  Strider and Sentian heard noises down the right hallway, so they sent the ranger to go investigate.  Down the hallway, four gnolls seemed to be engrossed in a game of dice around a table; piles of coins were scattered over the surface of the table and their weapons lay on the ground next to them.  After discussing what he had seen with the party, Strider laid bare his plan of attack: one of the party members would walk down the hall and challenge the gnolls, who would be unable to resist a lone target and thus would run into the waiting hands of the party.  Since no one disagreed with the plan, Sentian volunteered to be the bait.  While the party positioned themselves, the bold paladin marched down the hallway yelling praise to his god and the wrath his blade would bring to the evil of this mining complex.  The gnolls, who had been very content dicing the day away, looked up in anger and began picking up their weapons.  Three of them moved to intercept Sentian, while the last grabbed at thin chain that dangled from the ceiling.  Strider, who had placed himself at an excellent vantage point, had not noticed the chain until the gnoll reached for it.  _Oh no…_ In desperation Strider drew an arrow to his cheek and fired…unfortunately, the projectile missed its mark and the gnoll was able to pull the chain.

Everyone but Strider was surprised when they heard the deafening ring of bells going off in all directions.

Aramek: “Come on!  Help Sentian!!”

Leading the charge, the dwarf flung himself into melee with the rest of the party in his wake.  The four gnolls defended themselves with admirable skill as the party attempted to fell them quickly.  Four opponents was nothing new to the party, but four became eight and eight became twelve as doors began to open up and down both hallways.  Backing off, Strider tried to defend the party’s rear from the oncoming assault.  Setting himself for the charge, Strider saw the double doors at the end of the antechamber burst open.  A swarm of human and gnoll warriors armed for battle were led into the antechamber by an ogre and a half-elf astride a fiendish steed that howled as it ran.  As the enemy force charged, they exposed two ballistaes…_Ehlonna have mercy…_ Strider had only an instant to hurl himself to the ground as he heard the tension from the siege weapons release and hurl their payload in his direction.  As his face hit the stone he heard the wood from the spears shatter against the door behind him.  Before he arose, the howling fiend and its half-elven rider were upon him.  When the Howler bit into his arm, poisoned quills shot from the beast’s body and sank into Strider’s flesh.  Bandar used his psychic concussions to pummel the ogre and thereby diverting its attention from the dying ranger.  The brave dwarf was bracing himself for the inevitable pain from ogre’s huge club, when fog began to fill the area around him.  From the shouts of surprise that went up all around him, he was sure that both friend and foe were taken by surprise with this new development.  _Who did that?_

Lathander saw Dr. Noh casting just before the cloud of mist hit.  His vision was greatly obstructed, but his ears definitely picked up the shouts of pain coming from Strider.  Making his way through the dense haze, Lathander found the warrior locked in deathly combat with the Howler and its rider.  The punishment Strider had endured was obvious from the blood soaking through his clothing.  Lathander wasted no time in healing him and screaming for help.  It was then that Noh appeared from the mist and used one of the scrolls Yether had given him to restore Strider back to his original state of health.  It went on like this for quite sometime: Strider taking brutal punishment from the Howler and its rider, while Noh and Lathander used every ounce of their divine power to keep him alive…

Sentian was having an easy time of things.  The fog that blocked his vision also blocked that of the few enemies surrounding him.  Although they were adept fighters, they were no match for Sentian.  The paladin had trained for many months with some of the finest warriors the Freecity of Greyhawk had to offer.  He had seen nearly every style of fighting there was…his instructors were harsh and thus made sure that their lessons were well learned.  These gnolls and humans that fought him were more afraid of not seeing their companions than Sentian was of succumbing to their attacks.  Sentian had to count on himself many times before, so isolation was nothing new to him…this was not the case for his would-be adversaries.  _This is almost funny._  Another gnoll fell and then another.  The divine knight merely snickered and waited for others to take their place…

Aramek was crushing human soldiers when he heard Strider’s cry for help.  Oblivious to the enemies surrounding him, the dwarf carved a path to the origin of the sound with his warhammer.  His only thoughts were on helping his friend, but all of that quickly changed when he found himself nearly face to face with the ogre.  From the numerous cracks along the floor, Aramek was pretty sure that Bandar had avoided the worst of the ogre’s attacks.  _Sorry Strider…_ With a roar, Aramek charged head long into the fray swinging his hammer with inhuman strength.  He knew that he connected solidly when he heard the familiar sound of bone crushing.  The ogre answered right back with his great club, breaking most of Aramek’s ribs and nearly knocking him unconscious.  Bandar kept up his psychic assault, giving Aramek enough time to recover…the dwarf wasn’t sure if the shock of the impact had knocked his senses loose, but he was pretty sure he heard Lathander screaming about light and Pelor.  _Just what we need: undead._

Lathander was trained well in the destruction of undead.  He knew everything there was to know about their existence, especially how to obliterate them.  When he saw that zombie shambling towards him, his first reaction was to smite it.  _So why wasn’t it reduced to dust from my power?  Why does it simply flee?  True, its eyes had been replaced with the symbols of Tharizdun, but that seemed hardly enough to protect it from Pelor’s might…unless there was another priest around.  That must be it!_  The priest’s pondering was brought to an end when the fog that had mysteriously filled the antechamber and both hallways suddenly vanished.  Aramek, Bandar and Strider were all standing over the body of the ogre…apparently Strider had managed to dispatch both the Howler and the rider after Lathander left him to go fight the zombies.  Sentian was walking up the southern hallway alone and completely unscathed.  It was troubling that Dr. Noh was nowhere to be found…that and the fact that more of those strange zombies poured out of the northern hallway.  Lathander tried another Turning, but it had little effect on the shambling creatures, causing only two out of the ten to flee.  Although Strider, Aramek, Bandar, and Sentian were not equipped with Pelor’s wrath, they made short work of the undead.  Once the battle had ended, the party had the opportunity to gaze upon the bodies littering the floor.

Bandar: “Where is Dr. Noh?”

Lathander: “I heard him call upon Pelor’s might during battle, but I don’t know where he went.”

Strider: “Calm down, I’m sure he is around somewhere.  Let’s just check the immediate area.”

Aramek: “Aye, and check the bodies too!”

Once the party had finished relieving the dead of its valuables, they began to set check the doorways along both halls.  Most of them led off into unfamiliar territory that no one was willing to explore at that moment.  One of them; however, contained a few craven guards that had apparently barricaded themselves in once the fighting began.  With little violence, Strider was able to convince them that their current employment was not conducive to their future…they quickly ran.

Sentian: “I think it may be a good idea to remain here for the night and rest up.  It is a very defensible position and the arrow slits provide us with a view of the main entrance.  We are in no condition to look for Dr. Noh as we are now.”

Aramek: “The man’s right.”

Strider: “Alright, we stay here for the night and rest up.”

Guard duty was pulled in doubles: one man to guard the door and another to watch through the arrow slits.  The only thing fairly interesting that happened that night was a few humans fled through the entrance…probably more craven guards that needed a career change.

The next morning, the party went from room to room searching for any signs of Noh.  Many of the rooms contained a bit of treasure and odd trinkets.  Strider acquired a new bow in addition to the magical leather armor he got off the dead half-elf, Sentian found a quiver of well-crafted arrows along with the magical cloak he procured from one of the fallen, and Bandar added more coins to the party’s already growing horde.  Lathander was more interested in the letter he found addressed to a person called Naquent, implicating members of the “Outer Fane” with the search for the “Champion of Evil.”  No one could make heads or tails of what it meant, but Strider remembered the name all too well in the note Redithador had left him.  More exploration revealed that the worked stone of the main entrance ended with both the northern and southern hallways.  The group decided to go north, as that is where the zombies came from.  Leading the party, Strider scouted ahead to make sure the way was clear.  Tunnels fanned out in every direction, but ultimately they seemed to be uninhabited.  Sets of worked stairs made many of the tunnels crisscross one another, creating a veritable maze.  It was at one such intersection that the party began to discuss the direction they wanted to take when Strider heard a muffled voice echoing down one of the tunnels.  Not far from their position, they found Dr. Noh tied and gagged in the center of a small cavern.  Taking no chances, the party spread out all the tunnels leading into and out of the cavern before sending Aramek to untie the helpless gnome.  It was just as the dwarf began to undo the cords binding Noh, when a vaguely humanoid piece of wall detached itself from the environment and struck the wooden beam supporting the cavern.  Everyone looked up as the ceiling began to collapse, showering rock everywhere.


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## SolidSnake (Feb 25, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 7- “He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious.” –Sun Tzu, The Art of War (or “I don’t even know these guys…”)*


Aramek reacted instantly, throwing himself over Noh in order to act as a human shield.  The impact of the rocks caused the brave dwarf to grunt, but he was unconcerned so long as the gnome he was protecting survived the worst of it.  _I won’t let it happen again…I won’t allow others to die in my place.  I can’t go on fighting without my brothers and sisters…I failed enough already: my clan, Stella, Strider, Merkaeytl…This priest will not die today!_  With a shove, Aramek dislodged the huge slab of rock balanced upon his back and threw Noh into the nearest tunnel, away from the danger of another possible avalanche.  Looking around, he could see that the rest of the party had not escaped the collapsing ceiling unscathed.  Strider, Lathander, and Sentian were on their feet, but Bandar lay motionless underneath a pile of rubble.  Aramek didn’t have time to worry, as he could see that an enemy force had quickly surrounded their position.  Directly in front of him were two troglodyte priests flanking what appeared to be a humanoid creature made entirely of rock.  One of the priests wore black robes, displaying the symbol of Tharizdun on a necklace.  The other, seemingly female priest, wore gray robes and also wore the symbol of Tharizdun, but she allowed an inverted brown triangle to dangle directly under her _obex_.  Blocking their retreat stood an imposing troglodyte warrior.  His skin had been dyed black and from numerous body piercings hung small bones and feathers.  In his hands, he wielded a gleaming greatsword with an inverted brown triangle fused to the pommel.

Steeling his senses from the overwhelming stench of their adversaries, Lathander quickly reacted to the situation by summoning a magical circle of protection around himself and Sentian.

Lathander: “Rally to me!”
-----------------------------------
Bandar had seen this cavern before.  Images assaulted his mind while he tried to remember what he had lost.  _Why is this so familiar?  I remember this place…this cavern.  He warned me about this place, our family eldar.  The diggers had nearly died while mining this area because of the unstable rock.  It was good advice, but why is father upset at him?  I remember now…the children made fun of us because we weren’t part of the clan here.  We aren’t a part of any clan...why?  Maybe that is why they sent me away to live with the other clan…what was the name again?  Why is mother crying all the time?  Will I never come back?  Is this my home?  Where do we belong?  What am I that makes everyone fuss over me all the time?_
-----------------------------------
Bandar awoke from his reverie to the sound of combat.  He saw the familiar face of Sentian hovering above him.  His body ached everywhere, but the pain told him that he was still alive.

Sentian: “Get up Bandar!”

Bandar could see the earth elemental holding in place a few feet from Sentian’s position.  Strider was locked in combat with the troglodyte priestess, while Lathander unleashed every bit of divine strength he could muster to thwarting the evil cultists’ attempts at drawing forth their unholy power.  Bandar saw Aramek charge the great troglodyte warrior only to be skewered by three other troglodytes with longspears materializing from thin air.  It was the first time Bandar had ever seen Aramek fall.  Perhaps it was the sight of the invisible dwarf falling or the hopelessness that followed Strider’s attacks, but the ranger sensed the end was near and so he dropped his swords in a sign of surrender.  Bandar wasn’t about to give up, but his anger was quickly replaced by shock as he felt a crossbow bolt strike his shield.  Looking over he could see Dr. Noh reloading a crossbow…_What is happening?_  With a look of betrayal, Bandar allowed himself to be tied by the troglodytes that had felled Aramek.  It didn’t take very long for the two priests to cut Lathander down, but Sentian did not fall so easily.  He sword parried all the attacks the priests offered him with little to no effort.  The black clad priest was about signal the remaining force to attack when the great troglodyte warrior stopped him with a raised arm from across the battlefield.  Slowly and deliberately, the dark troglodyte made his was to Sentian’s position, waving away the rest of the rest of his companions.  Sentian was eager to inflict harm upon the men that had harmed his comrades, but the troglodyte proved to be an impressive adversary.  His sword was fluid in his hands despite its size; Sentian’s attacks seemed almost playfully batted aside by the swordsman.  Whether it was his overconfident behavior or simple carelessness, Sentian was eventually able to land a nearly killing blow on the swordsman.  The troglodyte screamed as he clutched the gash on his chest.  Sentian’s smile was quickly removed when the troglodyte’s greatsword retaliated with unbridled fury.

Strider could only watch from his kneeling position as the troglodyte swordsman cut down his valiant friend.  He knew that the paladin was not dead when some of the other troglodyte guards bound his wounds in order to prevent him from bleeding to death.  He and the rest of the prisoners were stripped of their equipment, bound, and blindfolded before being marched through the tunnels of the mine.  He did not know how far they had traveled or where they had gone, but Strider knew that they had finally arrived at a prison.  The cold iron of the manacles dug into his wrists as he was chained to the wall.  Everyone’s blindfold was removed save Bandar, who had a hood placed over his head.  Besides the five members comprising the party, there was an elven prisoner as well.  Like the rest of the party, he was manacled to the wall of a cavern with only one entrance.  The fires from a single brazier bathed the entire chamber, while the red-hot pokers provided the prisoners with a psychological deterrent.  The elf’s imprisonment did not seem to affect his determination visibly, but Bandar was another story.  As soon as the guards had left the cavern he began to chew his hood.

Elf: “What is wrong with your friend?”

Strider: “Chains distress him.”

Elf: “Well he doesn’t look well.  Then again this place has that effect on people.”

By this time Bandar had already created a small hole in the fabric and was working on somehow pulling the hole towards his eyes.

Strider: “Bandar, calm down!”

Strider watched in amazement as the dwarf began shooting rays of fire into his chains.  After a few blasts the chain began to heat up considerably.  The ranger’s amazement only compounded as he saw Elias doing much of the same thing on his side of the cavern.  Both men seemed locked in a race to burn their chains away.  Whether it was fate or shear irony, both the elf and the dwarf ripped their chains apart at exactly the same time.  Bandar immediately gravitated towards Strider’s position and began yanking feverishly at the chains binding him to the wall.  The elf, after freeing himself more thoroughly from his shackles also went over to help.

Strider: “Thank you both.  What is your name good elf?”

Elf: “Elias.  Now, hold still.”

Even with all three men pulling at the chains, they would not break.  It was only after Bandar ran over and got the red-hot poker to melt the chains a little did the group finally succeed in breaking the chains.  It was then that things began to get ugly.  Strider heard the troglodytes entering the cavern before they even reached the brazier.  Attempt to surprise his opponents, Strider hid the broken section of chain behind his back in the hopes that they would still think he was a captive.  Bandar and Elias; however, were visibly unbound and so they decided to fight.  Using every weapon in their repertoire was not enough to break free of the mass of troglodytes pouring into the cavern.  Strider watched Bandar make the ground quake and Elias summon magical fear to frighten the guards, but ultimately it proved futile.  Eventually, enough troglodytes were able bring the two rebels down and Strider had to watch through gritted teeth in order not draw attention to himself.

Elias and Bandar were rebound, but with extra precautions this time.  The elf was suspended upside down from the wall, completely encased with chains…it was a situation that even a greasy halfling would have trouble with.  Bandar was also suspended by his feet; his face was covered with an iron mask equipped with its own set of needles, making it difficult to move around without excruciating pain.  Once everyone was secure, Dr. Noh made his appearance to aggravate the already mounting animosity towards him.  He laughed at Bandar, poked Elias, and even taunted Strider with knowledge that he was a priest of Vecna.

Strider: “How can you be a priest of Vecna and of Pelor.”

Dr. Noh: (with a knowing grin) “There are always two sides to every story Strider.”

Strider: “Make no mistake Dr. Noh…I will kill you.”

Dr. Noh: (sarcastically) “But of course you will.  I'm sure this will happen right after your heart is sacrificed to the Xorn.”

The evil gnome left the party to stew for another few days under the careful watch of the troglodyte guards.  The people that could not feed themselves were force-fed and those that could were allowed to lap up their gruel like dogs as the guards laughed.  During that time, most of the unconscious members of the party awoke from their comas.  Aramek took it the worst, cursing for a full hour in dwarven until his voice finally gave out.  As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, Elias informed the party that Dr. Noh wasn't bluffing: sacrifices were needed once a week and that the week was almost up.  Much to Sentian’s chagrin, Tenaris Glimmerdawn had already been offered to “whatever foul God the lizards worshipped” just a few days ago.  As there was little to do, the party passed the time by coming up with possible plans of escape.  Coincidentally, all of these plans somehow involved Strider killing the right guard and freeing all the prisoners with the key he found.  There were many versions, but ultimately they were based on the same premise.  It went on like this for a few more days with little or no progress.

It was on the fourth day of their imprisonment that something completely unexpected happened: Sentian went crazy.  Or so people began to suspect when he began talking to himself.

Sentian: “I agree to your conditions.”

Aramek: “What the hell are ya talkin’ about?”

The dwarf was about to go on a long tirade on how humans broke very easily under pressure when the manacles binding Sentian’s wrists sprang open.  Rubbing his wrists, the paladin got to his feet and turned to face the rest of the party.

Sentian: “I have been offered freedom under some conditions.  The first is that I destroy the Earth Temple and make my way towards the Fire Temple, where I am to await instructions.  The second condition is that I am not allowed to harm the inhabitants of the Water Temple.  If you all agree to these conditions, you will be given freedom and a chance distribute justice.”

Aramek: “I like that part…”

No one was about to turn down the possibility of vengeance and freedom.  The group’s invisible benefactor remained hidden during the course of their pledges.  The only time his position was betrayed was when he parceled out potions of invisibility to the group and informed them that he had sedated the guards.  Holding hands, the party was led past the altar devoted to unholy sacrifice and into the maze of tunnels.  It wasn’t long before the creature leading them stopped in a large cavern housing a sleeping manticore.  A smaller cavern was attached to the larger one and another tunnel led out.

Benefactor: (in whispers) “In the smaller cavern you will find some of your equipment.  Kill the priest, retrieve your weapons, and remember the pact.”

As everyone was invisible, Sentian was only able to know that the party’s invisible benefactor had left when he no longer felt the moist webbed hand in his own.  The mat at the threshold of the smaller cavern was stitched from human skin and ropes throughout the cave suspended an assortment of skulls.  A lone troglodyte priest that the party had never seen before rocked back and forth in a makeshift hammock, reading a book with strange writing.  Sentian wrapped the chains of his manacles around his hands in anticipation.  _There is a time for chivalry and a time for action…necessity has forced this upon me._  Without so much as sound, the paladin wrapped the chains around the troglodyte’s neck and began to squeeze with all his might.  The other party members helped things along by beating the priest to death with their fists.  After he was dead, a few weapons and armor were retrieved…not enough to fully equip the party, but enough to do serious damage.  The party’s next victim was the sleeping manticore, which didn’t even have time to scream as its life was extinguished by a group of bloodthirsty and angry prisoners.

Moving on, the group finally made its way back to the site of the original battle that had caused their defeat.  The dark troglodyte warrior was there, polishing the remaining weapons the party once owned.  With some quick thinking, the party sent Elias on a mission to distract the remaining Earth Temple forces.  As the elf was still invisible it was no trouble to sneak to the Main Gate and sound the alarm by pulling on the chain.  Unsurprisingly, the great troglodyte warrior and the rest of the Temple guards ran to protect their temple from possible intruders.  Strider seized this opportunity by collecting the group’s weapons and redistributing them back to their rightful owners.

Strider: “They will be back soon.  Quickly, we must hide!”

Leading the group down a descending tunnel, Strider took the group to a cavernous area they had never been to before.  A female troglodyte guard was eating a bowl of gruel at a table in the center of the room when the party burst in.  Elias fired an arrow without thinking, but the female troglodyte proved to be too quick for such a hasty shot.  Strider ordered a charge, but the group found itself without an enemy after the guard drank down a potion and vanished.

Bandar: “They are coming!”

Horrified, Strider realized that there was only one entrance to this cavern and consequently only one exit…they were trapped!  Overturning the table, Sentian bade everyone to hide behind it in preparation of the attack.  Familiar faces emerged from the cave’s entrance: the dark troglodyte swordsman, a small contingent of guards, and the priestess with her earth elemental.  Lathander dueled the priestess with spells, Aramek went head-to-head with the earth elemental, and the rest of the party tried to fight the dark swordsman and his small contingent of guards.  Through sheer tenacity, the group was able to overcome adversity and defeat all their enemies…even the invisible troglodyte who materialized to disrupt Lathander’s spellcasting.  None of their enemies went down easily, leaving the party with numerous wounds at the end of the conflict.  Once it was clear that no more temple reinforcements were coming, the party searched the bodies of the fallen.  A strange key with an inverted brown triangle and the dark swordsman’s greatsword was the most interesting treasure they found.  Their fortune only seemed to magnify when Bandar said he found the rest of the party’s equipment stored in small side chamber.  The party decided after some deliberation that it could stay here and rest up before setting out again.  A barrier was quickly constructed with the table and a guard routine was assigned for the rest of the night.

It was during Sentian’s watch that a strange mist began to rise.  The paladin didn’t need to hear the low moaning sounds from behind the barricade to know that he had to sound the alert.  Within seconds of the fog’s arrival, zombies began to claw at the table.  Lathander and Bandar rushed out to destroy the undead while the rest of the party was left to deal with stone imps that detached themselves from the walls of the cavern and began to rain down a storm of rock from their mouths.

Lathander obliterated most of the resistance with a ray of pure positive energy.  Bandar; however, was not interested in the zombies…he knew that where there was fog, there was Dr. Noh.  _You won’t escape this time!_  Charging forth from the clutches of the mist, Bandar saw the gnome fleeing down the tunnel.  Noh was in the lead, but Bandar’s determination would not let him relent.  The dwarf began to close the distance when he saw Strider and Elias rush past him and lunge for the turncoat.  Dr. Noh and Strider went down in a jumble of arms and legs.  [DM aside: Damn that 20-ft. movement]  Elias made sure to run past them to block any chance of escape.  As he came upon them, Bandar saw that Strider had his left hand around Dr. Noh’s neck and his right hand on the grip of his longsword; the point of the blade touched the frail gnome’s neck.

Strider: “I told you that I would kill you.”

Just as Strider pulled the blade back to deliver death, a voice ripped through the air.

Lathander: “Stay your sword Strider!”

The ranger turned to see the priest of Pelor running up to join the group.

Lathander: “He may have betrayed us but he is still a priest of Pelor.  We must find out how this is possible.  Let us rest and I will seek guidance from Pelor on the morrow.  What can a few hours hurt?”

No one really liked the idea of allowing Noh to live longer than was absolutely necessary, but everyone agreed that answers as to why a priest of Vecna could summon the power of Pelor were important.  And so the party found themselves back at their cavern once again, trying to stay alive until the next morning in order to find truth and some small measure of vengeance.


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## SolidSnake (Feb 26, 2002)

Please note that I have edited the above post (Session 7), due to some small errors on my part that my PCs were kind enough to rub in my face  Now that the post is more accurate, I implore my readers to read it once again


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## Gaiden (Mar 2, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 8, Part 1- "It is more shameful to distrust one’s friends than to be deceived by them." — François duc de la Rochefoucauld (or "This is what I like to call Divine Retribution!")*

The intense stare Lathander gave Doc while casting a rarely used spell was slightly startling – coming from a fellow priest of Pelor.

Lathander – “I want you to know two things.  First, you cannot lie.  Second, I will know if you do.”

The last bit was said with a slight tinge of threatening adding.  Again, all very intimidating to the poor gnome who had no idea what had transpired since the zombie grabbed him, however long ago.  

Dr. Noh – “If you would only explain what it is that has happened.  I am sure there is a perfectly rational explanation.”

Aramek – the one who tied his bonds to begin with the previous night – “Oh, we told ya’ what ‘happened’.  Ye betrayed the dwarf who saved yer pathetic little life.  A ton of stone fell on me while I shielded ya and what do ya do?!?  Ye start firing yer crossbow at Bandar!”

Strider – “Let’s get one thing straight Dr. Noh.  I said I would kill you and I meant it!  The only reason you are still alive is because Lathander still believes that you are in fact a true priest of Pelor –”

Dr. Noh – “But I am a real priest of Pel–”

Strider – “Listen!  You don’t quite get it do you?  You are our enemy right now!  You betrayed us and were going to participate in our sacrifice to some god-forsaken fiendish xorn-creature from hell!  Whether you really remember that or not is not really relevant.  What is relevant is if you are magically being forced to act this way.  Lathander tells me that you could be charmed or possessed.  In either case, you are a threat right now.  SO SHUT UP AND ANSWER LATHANDER’S QUESTIONS.”

Dr. Noh, not being used to this sort of treatment closed his mouth and listened to Lathander.

Lathander – “Are you a true priest of Pelor?”

Dr. Noh – “Yes, of course–”

Lathander – “Do you worship Pelor?”

Dr. Noh – “YES!”

Lathander – “Are you a priest of Vecna?”

Dr. Noh – “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

Lathander – “Do you worship Vecna?”

Dr. Noh – “Do I really need to answer that, this is ridiculous.  I worship Pelor.  Lathander, for radiance’s sake, look at my holy symbol!”

Lathander – “I am looking at it, what I see is the hand of Vecna.  Please answer the question.

Dr. Noh – “It is an impossible question.”

Elias – “It’s a yes or no question.”

Lathander – “Do you worship Vecna?”

Dr. Noh – “NOOOOOOO!”

Strider – “He can’t lie right?”

Lathander – “Not exactly.  He can’t knowingly state a falsehood.  So far, everything he has said he believes is true.”

Sentian – “Isn’t Vecna the master of all that is hidden?  If anybody could fool the spell it would be a priest of Vecna.”

Lathander – “I am not so sure.  In all of my knowledge I have never heard of such a thing, at least not without the aid of magic, and we already detected no magical influences on his person.  Most likely this Dr. Noh has either been tricked or really does validly believe he does not worship Vecna.  Either way, you are a priest of Vecna Dr. Noh.  Some way, some how, you are one of his priests.  Yet I have seen you turn undead, an impossibility as a sole worshipper of Vecna.  You at least must worship a neutral God to have that power.”

Dr. Noh – “Let me go, I can cure you all, if you would just let me cast.”

Strider – “You are either insane or an idiot.  You think we are going to let you go because you tell us you are a priest of Pelor.  Do you think that we are all lying and that you did not do the things we say you did?  You do not know me, but you know Lathander worships Pelor, and that Sentian worships Heronius.  Could either of them lie like that?  In fact you should be the one trying to cater to us.  You should willingly remain tied if you really follow Pelor because based on everything we have said you are a threat to us.  In fact, if you were truly a follower of Pelor I would expect your willingness for us to kill you given the danger that lies beyond that hallway.  At the very least, I would think you would want to cooperate with us and be doing nothing but praying for Pelor’s forgiveness for the atrocious acts you have committed. Don’t forget the reason for why we are here.  We came to find Ridithidor’s killer.  More than likely, that thing is in these devil-infested mines.  You came to help.  You are certainly not helping.  You almost got us killed!”  

Bandar – “Ok Strider, I think you made your point.  What are we going to do with him?”

Lathander – “He comes with us and I will accompany him back to Hommlet so that Yether can more closely examine him and get to the bottom of this.”

Aramek – “So I suppose ye’ll be the one watchin' him, aye?”

Lathander – with a cold look towards Aramek – “If I must, yes, I will.”

Sentian – “Why don’t we leave him here gagged and bound and come back for him?”

Strider – “I have to suggest against that.  I wish no offense Sentian, but that just risks him escaping and further harming us.  I think we should have him with us so that when we get to the entrance we can immediately leave.”

Aramek – “Strider, how are we goin to keep an eye on ‘em if we be gettin into a battle?  I say we strap some armor to his back and put a weapon in his hand and put ‘em in the front ranks.  Let ‘em prove his loyalty by bein’ our cover.”

Strider – “As much as I would like to throw him into the front ranks, my conscience won’t allow it.  If Lathander is right and he is in fact a priest of Pelor then we would in a sense be killing him, just indirectly.  Right now I consider him as an enemy and must be treated as one.  However, this is an enemy that must also be protected as he at least was someone who I was willing to call friend.”

Lathander – “Strider is right, I will not allow you to do that.  This is rightfully in my jurisdiction as a priestly matter.  Consequently, I accept full responsibility for watching over him.  He comes with us gagged and bound with his feet bound so he can walk only.

Aramek – “I don’t mean to rain on yer ‘holier than thou’ parade but how do we be getting away from the enemy if we need to be runnin.  Are you gonna carry the good Dr.  Can you carry him and run?

Strider – “Well we certainly can’t put him in the front lines.  He sucks in melee.  That goblin that Lathander washed back at the temple would have kicked his ass.”

Sentian – “I don’t mean to interrupt your discussion gentlemen but you all seem to be intent on leaving when we reach the entrance.  Similar to Lathander’s convictions, I am not leaving until I recover my second’s body.  I know he has been sacrificed, but I could not live with myself if I left his body in this desecrated place to rot.  I also made a promise.  I don’t know who it was that rescued us from prison but I vowed to destroy this temple.  I intend to carry out that promise.”

Strider – “You will remember that we all made that vow.  As you have vowed vengeance for your dead companion I too have vowed vengeance.  I will see this place destroyed.  I think it would be wise, however, to solicit some help.  We [indicating Lathander, Bandar, and Aramek] have made some friends in Hommlet, some powerful friends.  I think that we should let them know what is going on here.  They were the original destroyers of the originial Temple ofElemental Evil and if I am not mistaken that place has been reincarnated.  It simply has changed locations.  If anything, they could at least outfit us with equipment.  Further, if we fail, although I don’t like to think about that possibility, someone will be there to complete our quest and satisfy that promise.”

Elias – “Strider makes a good point.  I came to investigate and ought to report back to my superiors.”

Bandar – “I don’t like leaving.  How are we going to get back in?”

Aramek – “Aye, once we leave, I bet they be stepping up their defenses.  We caught ‘em unprepared before, but if they’re ready for us, aye don’t know how we goin to be gettin inside.”

Bandar – “I will stay behind and guard the entrance while you all take care of whatever obligations you have.

Strider – “That’s suicide Bandar.  You can’t stay by yourself.  If they find you, I hate to say it, but you don’t stand a chance.  None of us would alone.  We are a team and rely on each other’s support.”

Sentian – “I will stay behind with Bandar.  I need to recover my second’s body anyway.  Once we get to the entrance, you four take Dr. Noh, and Bandar and I will stay behind.”

Strider – “Again, you both are needlessly sacrificing your lives.  We have enough gold to buy horses for all of us.  We can be back in two weeks.  There is nothing we can do to stop them from rearming the front gates anyway.  Better to get reinforcements, and stay as group, at least while we are in the temple.”

Bandar – “We won’t be able to get back inside if we leave.”

Lathander – “I came along to help you Strider.  But Dr. Noh demands my attention.  I must leave so that I can heal Dr. Noh of whatever ailment is causing his hypocrisy.”

Strider – “I do not expect you to bear this burden alone.  I will do anything I can to help.  Further, I must speak with Elmo, Burne and the rest of the veterans at Hommlet.”

Aramek – “Sentian, your friend’s body will be here when we get back.  Aye don’t think ‘s goin anywhere.  The lad be right that its suicide to stay by yerselves.”

Sentian – “Well, how about we get to the entrance and once we have it cleared decide what to do.  We know that no matter what, we need to have an escape route.  Right now that priest has the front entrance occupied.”

Aramek – “Aye, I want to put this hammer through that priest’s face.”

The group proceeded back towards the entrance, Strider in a scouting position, without too much more discussion.  Strider reported back that their were undead guarding the entrance:  zombies and an undead howler.  Lathander worked out a plan that would effectively allow a pincer attack.  Strider would cross the hallway and draw the howler to him while Lathander would try and position himself next to the entrance.  The rest of the group would stay in the hallway so that Lathander could cast searing light maximizing its effect.  After Lathander cast the spell, the rest of the group would charge whatever was left.

The plan worked virtually perfectly.  Dr. Noh, gagged and bound, was put into the lookout room.  Strider sprinted across the pathway of the two ballistas effectively catching all of the undead and two unseen troglodytes by surprise.  As planned the howler attacked Strider.  Getting Lathander out of the entrance proved to be a bit more difficult than imagined because of the two troglodytes who flanked the hallway.  Sentian and Elias met the zombies head on at the entrance to the hallway and Aramek was able to bull rush one out of the way drawing everyone’s attention to him while Lathander slipped past.  Lathander got into position and seared all the undead to ash with his holy power.  The two remaining troglodytes were easily dispatched.

Unfortunately, a familiar troglodyte priest snuck into the room where Dr. Noh was helpless and as Bandar moved in to retrieve the cleric he watched a suddenly visible mace swing down and crush Dr. Noh’s skull.  It was the same priest that had engineered the the party's capture a few days ago...he was also undoubtably the creator of the undead roaming the area.  The ensuing battle was vicious.  Lathander dispelled the magical protections on the troglodyte while Strider summoned a small swarm of insects to disrupt its casting.  The rest of the party laid waste to it in a flurry of steel and hatred.


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## SolidSnake (Mar 5, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 8, Part 2- “By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is the easiest; and third, by experience, which is the bitterest.” –Confucius (or “The emphasis is on bitter…”)*

Aramek stood over the body of Dr. Noh for quite sometime, not saying a word to anyone.  After a while, the somber dwarf took a long hard look at the rest of the party and asked for their permission to leave with the fallen priest’s corpse.  With a bit of discussion, the party eventually decided that Aramek could return Dr. Noh’s body to Hommlet.  Strider, Lathander, and Sentian all composed letters for Aramek to deliver.  With the party’s loot and the frail gnome’s body in tow, Aramek began his descend down the mountainside.  Before he crossed the threshold of the huge double doors barring the Main Gate entrance; however, Bandar stopped him.

Bandar: “We will need your strength soon…return quickly.”

With a nod, the dwarf set out once again, only to stopped by his long-standing companion: Strider.

Strider: “I will miss you old friend.  Please hurry back whenever you are done…”

Aramek: “I don’t know how far my journey shall take me…how will I know of your exploits?”

Strider: “Names are never easy to remember when they are tied to many others.  Remember this: we are the _Band of the Rising Sun_ and there shall always be a place for you here.”

A gruff handshake later, the ‘Band of the Rising Sun’ was already short two members.  Its remaining strength was forced to rest for a whole day in order to recover from the brutal combat that had cleared the Main Gate of enemies.  Sleep was not completely restful…all through the night, a low drumming sound reverberated off the cavern walls making rest extremely difficult.

The next morning, the Band sought retribution for all the pain they had suffered at the hands of the troglodytes.  Following a round of healing spells from Lathander, everyone felt ready to bring down some cultists.  As the Band had been led through the Earth Temple area before invisibly, it was a fairly easy task to coordinate their strike on the unholy altar that Dr. Noh described…in theory anyway.  The Band knew that the Earth altar was located in a huge chamber at the end of two merging tunnels, as they had used them both before.  The mystery lay in an adjacent tunnel that seemed to lead into a smaller chamber…at least this enigma puzzled Sentian; no one else really cared.  This tunnel was covered in insects of every sort imaginable, a warning that most men would have heeded…but then again, most men weren’t like Sentian.  All through the night, the paladin could only think of the body of his fallen comrade and what foul acts the troglodyte priests had committed upon it.  Without so much as a word to anyone Sentian marched right into the midst of the swarm, intent on exhausting all possibilities.

Had Sentian shared his plan with Strider, the ranger might have cautioned him to be wary of one of the more colorful bugs crawling through the hive of insects.  Unfortunately, Strider and the rest of the party had little time to prepare as Sentian marched into the tunnel and was quickly overrun by insects.  Initially it seemed almost humorous as the smaller bugs crawled up the suit of armor he wore, but that thought was quickly dispelled as extremely large centipedes began to detach themselves from the mass and wrap themselves about Sentian’s limbs.  Strider knew that if one of these creatures was able to bore through Sentian’s defenses that he might be paralyzed for quite sometime.  Luckily, the rest of the Band moved rather quickly and was able to quell the danger without little effort.  The most disturbing part of the battle came with the sound of drums beating coming from the area of the altar.  The beat increased in tempo, until it reached a feverish pitch.  By the end of the incident it had stopped completely.

Bandar (extremely irate): “We should always tell one another what we plan to do before we just go off and do it!”

Strider: “We might as well see what lies at the end of the tunnel now.”

With a grumble, Bandar followed the rest of the Band into small cave.  The most obvious decoration was the skinned and burnt corpse suspended from the ceiling by chains.  On a cluttered desk lay a coffer and at the foot of the bed lay a trunk.  Strider immediately went for the coffer, using _Shatterspike_ to pry it open.  Sentian lent his strength to the ranger’s efforts and was rewarded by blast of magical cold, which enveloped both adventurers.  With a groan Sentian began to wipe the frost off his armor, while Strider furtively checked the contents of the coffer.  It held ten amethyst gems and amulet that proved to be magical once Elias had a look at it.  The gems were given to Strider to hold and the amulet to Bandar.  Elias also noticed a strange letter written in Draconic wedged underneath the coffer.  It was a note to a person called Hedrack explaining the recent takeover of the Earth Temple by the troglodytes.  After fouling up the room, the Band headed towards the altar.

With Strider scouting ahead, the party was able to discover that a troglodyte sacrifice had been offered to the Xorn in the absence of any prisoners.  From what Strider described, the ceremony was rather grotesque: the heart was torn from the chest, limbs were hacked off a bit at a time, and all while the victim was still alive.  The priest leading the ceremony was a troglodyte with tattoos of upside-down brown triangles all over the visible portions of his body.  An _obex_ was embedded into his forehead and he wore the carapace armor the Band had seen before.

Elias was sent up one of the tunnels leading to the altar chamber, while the rest of the Band waited for a distraction at the intersection.  Strider readied a spell of _faerie fire_ to use as soon as the priest began to cast any spells.  It wasn’t long before the ranger spotted an arrow flying out of the darkness followed by screams from the other hallway.  Strider watched as the arrow struck the priest the evil holy symbol upon the priest’s forehead, ripping it away from his flesh and nearly killing him in the process.  The Xorn immediately began to sink into the earth, while the priest produced an elixer which he drank greedily.  Strider cast the spell, bathing the evil cultist in a soft blue glow.  The rest of the Band ran down the tunnel that Elias took where they found him locked in battle with two troglodytes wielding longspears.  The elf flowed from stance to stance as if in a dance, but his enemies followed him deftly.  The danger quickly passed; however, the rest of the Band unleashed a storm of arrows upon the unprepared troglodyte guards.

Strider: “Elias, pull back now!”

As the Band withdrew from the area they could hear the laughter emanating from the cavern that housed the unholy altar.  The momentary distraction was interrupted by Lathander’s screams…no one had expected the Xorn to move that fast through the ground.  Ripping his leg out of the mouth of the half-submerged creature, Lathander began to backpedal into the protection of the group.  This solved little, if anything, as the Xorn merely glided underneath the earth into the midst of the party and began to attack ferociously.  Razor sharp talons attached to small arms tore through armor and sinew, while the crushing power of its mouth nearly decimated the weakened Sentian.  Swords seemed to have little effect on the creature’s tough hide, but Bandar’s continual mental assault did do noticeable damage.  Unfortunately, the dwarf had to redirect his efforts at the priest who strode towards the party with his entourage of guards.  The evil priest was well equipped for battle and even had the telltale signs of unholy power by the red glow in his eyes.  Lathander worked furiously to dispel his enchantments, while Elias engaged the troglodyte guards by himself.  Strider and Sentian swung their weapons with all their might, but the blows that should have destroyed a large ogre seemed to have little effect on the Xorn.  Finally, in desperation, Sentian reversed the grip on his blade and plunged the greatsword he had retrieved from the dark swordsman into the creature’s hide.  Things seemed to happen all at once: the blade met the rock hide of the Xorn and then there was a small explosion directly underneath the point of impact…Sentian felt the blade shear through flesh and watched as the sword went all the way up to the hilt.  Strider looked on with shock as the Xorn slid lifeless to the floor.

Meanwhile, It seemed as though there was a battle of magic happening between the evil priest and Lathander as mysterious energies whipped back and forth through the air between the two.  Bandar did not notice the intricate interplay as he simply sent wave after wave of visible psychic power to crush the priest’s head.  Elias had nearly destroyed the entourage that the evil priest had surrounded himself with by the time Strider and Sentian waded into the battle.  Both magical and physical barriers impeded both men’s attempts at cutting the priest in half.  Sensing the futility of physically trying to harm him, Strider summoned a swarm of bats to obstruct the priest’s actions.  This was all the distraction Sentian need to land an explosive blow into the priest’s midsection.  The paladin heard the crush of bone and felt the jarring impact that his greatsword made…he knew that the troglodyte was dead even before it hit the ground.  With no support from their high priest, it wasn’t long before the remaining guards were dispatched with extreme prejudice.

The Band immediately went to work searching the bodies for anything interesting and were rewarded with a set of magical gloves (given to Strider) and another strange key.  With little danger on the horizon, the Band went back to their cave to rest for another day.  The next morning Lathander healed the injured and made sure that he had an arsenal of spells at his disposal in case the group was attacked again.

With the Earth Temple forces destroyed, the Band felt bold enough to further venture in that direction.  Passing familiar territory, the group finally entered the chamber housing the unholy altar.  Everyone felt their skin crawl simply by being near it…but most of all the power scared them.  Fear turned to anger when Sentian ran up to the altar and slammed his greatsword into it.  Emboldened the other party members followed suit, swing until they couldn’t even lift their arms.  Eventually the stone altar cracked in half with a resounding blow from Sentian’s greatsword.  As the blade was drawn away from the remains of the altar, the paladin watched as the sword crumbled to dust…it was at this point that Sentian’s world went completely black.
------------------------------------------
Sentian knew that he was in a world of darkness and completely alone.  From the darkness he could see a white horse riding towards him.  Astride the magnificent stead was a knight in brilliant armor.  The knight reigned the stallion right in front of Sentian and extended a sword to the paladin.  _I know this sword…it was the one that was given to me after I left the Citadel…I don’t understand…_

When the knight spoke, his voice commanded obedience.

"Do not stray from the path Sentian. The Blade of Valor may only be wielded by the righteous. The forces of evil may tempt you with power, but you need only my standard to prevail! Protect the faith, your honor, and the helpless. Now ride forth and smite our enemies!"
------------------------------------------
Sentian felt hands shaking him.

Bandar: “Wake up Sentian!  The whole place is coming down!”

The dwarf was correct.  Sentian could see sections of the ceiling beginning to collapse to the sounds of low rumbling.  Sentian followed the running dwarf into the closest tunnel with the rest of the party.  They followed it for quite sometime, until it opened up into a rather large cavernous chamber.  The good news was that the rumbling had stopped by this point…the bad news was that the corpse of a half-eaten dire ape lay in the center of the room.


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## SolidSnake (Mar 7, 2002)

*Campaign Website*

I finally got around to creating a website for the campaign, so if you are at all interested in seeing what it looks like go on and check it out.

www.people.virginia.edu/~nah3q

It still isn't completely done yet, but at least you get the jist


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## SolidSnake (Mar 29, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 9- Death of a Hero  (or “How many times were we one roll from getting wiped out?”)*

With the rumblings and tremors from the destruction of the Earth Temple’s ziggurat still echoing in their ears, the party found themselves looking on the rancid carcass of a dead, partially eaten dire ape.  Bandar and Lathander both remembered the thunderous blows they suffered from the dire ape in the Temple of Elemental Evil, and both involuntarily shuddered.  Bandar asked Lathander, in typically blunt tones,

“What the &*%$ eats a Dire Ape?  Do we want to know?”

Upon closer examination, Strider announced that the monster was cut down by weapons and eaten by creatures smaller than itself – probably killed by troglodytes.  _At least there isn’t something wandering around that can kill and eat a dire ape on its own_ Bandar thought, somewhat relieved.

The party proceeded into the darkness ahead, guided by a sunrod Lathander activated.  They soon found themselves in a large cavern with several exits.  All that was in the cavern were various rusty tools and a large chain coiled on the ground.  Without going far into the area, Strider heard breathing and rustling down the passage to the party’s right.  Within moments, the sound turned into the howling and roaring of charging beasts, though the group could see little from their light except shadows flickering on the wall.  Suddenly, four rampaging dire apes came into view, hurtling toward the Band.

As Strider called on the group to fall back to a more narrow area of the passage to better face the enemy, Sentian stepped forward, sword drawn, to intercept the beasts.  Strider changed plans and joined his fellow warrior, steeling against the furious charge.  Normal men would have fled immediately in panic, but these two veterans stood fast and prepared for the onslaught.

The dire apes collided violently with the party’s stout front line, and there was a blur of fur and glistening steel, accompanied by howls of pain.  The massive beasts had tried to overrun the warriors, but the skilled swordsmen had taken advantage of the apes’ exposed flanks to cut two down before they could get by.  One ape did barrel through, and the last one hit Sentian with its huge fist, but he shook off the blow.  Lathander threw down the sunrod and drew his mace to engage the dire ape that got by, while Bandar attacked the beasts with mental energy and Elias fired on them with his bow.  

As the two sides battled, an earth-shattering roar stopped them all in their tracks.  With sinking hearts, the party realized that they would soon face an even greater foe.  The dire ape that got by Sentian and Strider punched and bit Lathander.  The priest’s _Shield Other_ spell cast on Sentian brought him more suffering as the paladin was hit repeatedly by the other dire ape.  

The group was already worse for wear when the source of the last roar showed itself.  Everyone gulped as they looked on an ape that made the dire apes look small!  This hulking monstrosity towered twelve feet tall, and easily reached over Sentian’s opponent to pummel the paladin badly with its terrifying fists.  Bandar ran near the melee to be able to see and attack the newest monster, suffering a powerful blow as Lathander’s ape pounded his exposed side.  The psion could now see the huge dire ape, but his _Concussion_ power was of little use against such a large beast.  Lathander stepped back and cast _Prayer_ while Elias and Strider finished off the dire ape that had faced the priest.

Sentian stood alone against the last two enemies.  He could sense that he would not win alone in melee, but he would do as much damage as he could before his time ran out.  The noble warrior ignored the dire ape in front of him, which looked small in comparison to the massive dire ape behind it.  Sentian managed a few deep cuts into the larger monster before it hammered him with its fists, grabbed his arms and nearly ripped him apart.  The paladin would have been in two pieces had Lathander’s spell not transferred some of the agony to the wounded priest.  Both men fell with a cry, leaving only three adventurers standing.

The party had relied on Lathander’s powerful spells and healing, and Sentian’s expert swordplay.  Strider saw how ineffectual Bandar’s psionic attacks had been, barely singeing the hair on the massive silverback, and Elias’ _Magic Missile_ spells had the same minor effect.  Knowing that he alone could nothold back the two apes from ripping apart his other two friends, Strider resolved to buy them time.  With a furious cry, the party’s leader threw himself at the enemy and dealt the foremost dire ape a flurry of hefty blows before the two monsters responded in kind.  The dire ape pummeled and bit him, then the hulking monster behind did even worse, leaving Strider reeling [*&^% special rend attack!]  

Understanding their desperate straits, Elias and Bandar used the time Strider provided to do what they could.  Bandar’s mental attacks continued to be ineffective, despite his numerous occasions to do significant damage.  He desperately continued, using all the energy he had with a fury, trying to save Strider and the party, but the ape’s shrugged off his attacks.  Elias stabilized Sentian with a healing potion, ensuring that the paladin would not die.  Unfortunately, to heal the fallen warrior, the elf came within the big dire apes’ reach, and the beast made him pay for his altruism.  Elias was pounded into unconsciousness without being able to revive Sentian.  Only Bandar and Strider remained standing. 

Strider continued to take abuse from the two apes, but managed to absorb the blows and deal some of his own.  He had faced equal pain in fighting the howler and its mount, and the dragon back at the moathouse, but both times he had healing to soften the worst hits. The noble warrior hoped against hope that Bandar might somehow help his desperate cause with mental assaults.  Strider knew he could not survive the next onslaught, and in his mind bid a sad goodbye to his companions.  He finished the dire ape in front of him with an expert thrust of his blade and dug his dagger deep into the chest of the last and biggest ape.  With a brutish fury, the monstrosity grabbed brave Strider by the arms and pulled to the sides with its terrifying might.  The party’s long time leader gave his last cry and fell silent, to Bandar’s horror and dismay.  Strider was dead.

Alone, Bandar faced a massive dire ape, with little mental power left, surrounded by unconscious, dead, or dying friends.  The party risked annihilation.  Giving up for now on psionics after many frustrating failed attempts, the desperate Bandar grabbed a potion from Elias’ belt and gave it to Lathander, reviving the priest but putting the dwarf in harms’ way.  Lathander stood up and summed up the group’s dire straits grimly, and knocked the huge monster back with a scorching _Searing Light_ spell.  The beast pounded Bandar and tried to rip him asunder, as it had with Sentien, Elias, and Strider.  Miraculously, the tough dwarf survived the attack, though just barely – the massive foe was clearly weakening.  The pain distracted the adventurer from his psionic attack.  Bandar was buying Lathander time, as Sentien and Strider had done for him.  

Lathander used the opportunity well and crept forward to heal Sentian back to life.  The paladin opened his eyes to see the last ape looming tall over him.  With characteristic bravery, Sentian leapt to his feet and dealt the monster two grievous blows.  Now it was the beast’s turn to reel from the onslaught, and its counterattacks that could have killed them all, were ineffective [the DM rolled three 1’s for attacks!!!].  

Surprised at their good fortune, the Band pressed their advantage.  Bandar used his psionic power to make the ground quake and knock both Sentian and the ape off their feet.  The paladin recovered his footing quickly and cut the prone foe repeatedly with his sword.  Lathander healed the warrior, further providing him strength.  Just as the beast was coming to its feet and managed to punch Sentian again, Bandar let loose another quaking _Stomp_.  Sentien learned quickly and jumped as the ground shook, but the huge monster fell over again.  With a tremendous chop, the paladin beheaded the terrible foe that had very nearly killed them all on several occasions.

The end of the battle allowed the bedraggled Band of the Rising Sun to breathe easier and heal, reviving Elias.  Nobody spoke.  They could not avoid looking at Strider’s torn and bleeding corpse.  Bandar had known Strider since the battles of Khundukar, the man who had been his leader during the entire quest against the Temple, since that first day arriving in Hommlet.  Overwhelmed by the loss of his friend, the man he would have followed to hell and back (and nearly did), the stoic dwarf broke down and wept.


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## SolidSnake (Apr 14, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 10- Bringing out the Dead (or “So who gets his boots?”)*

No one was willing to disturb the stoic dwarf as he cried, mainly because Bandar had hardly ever shown emotion at all; and so the Band watched as one of their remaining members wept over the body of Strider.  After some time Lathander placed a gentle hand upon Bandar’s shoulder.

“I know he was your friend Bandar, but we must go now.”

Nodding, the dwarf rose to his feet and allowed Sentian and Elias to carry Strider’s body away from the scene of carnage.  Strider’s equipment was quickly divided among the remaining members of the Band to reinforce the strength of the enfeebled group so that they could continue their quest.  Although everyone in the Band was against leaving for any extended period of time, everyone finally agreed to leave long enough to give Strider a proper burial.  Elias volunteered to remain inside the Crater Ridge Mines to guard them from any possibility of reinforcement.  Sentian mentally noted the elf’s courage before departing with the rest of the Band.  Whether it was a sign of fortune to come or destiny’s twisted sense of irony, the members of the Band met up with Merk halfway to the village of Rastor.  The strange elf was not alone; a burly blond-haired human man with an intricate spear followed behind her with a dour expression.

Merk was in a fine mood when she encountered the group, a vivid contrast from her human companion.

Merk: “I am so glad to see you all safe!  Chatrilon lied to me aftera-”

Her voice died away as her eyes locked on Strider’s body.  No one dared to look her in the eye, lest they have to explain what happened…but Merk needed no explanation to understand that for whatever reason Strider had fallen.  The Band stood uncomfortably while Merk wept, joined shortly thereafter by the sound of Bandar’s lamentation.

Merk (hysterically): “Can’t we raise him?!”

Lathander (somberly): “That isn’t my place to decide…I must speak with his spirit to find the answers.”

Merk’s response to the priest of Pelor was more tears of anguish.  With all the civility he could muster, Lathander introduced himself to Merk’s companion in order not be completely rude.  The man went by the name of Tresh and was in search of Eblis.

Lathander: “He may have been captured by members of the cult.  I remember that the events around his disappearance were strange…”

Tresh: “So you have no idea for sure?”

Lathander: “No, but if he was captured he will most assuredly be in the Mines.”

Merk (turning away from Strider’s body): “I came here to warn you.  Chatrilon is not what he claims to be…”

Lathander: “We know.  He attacked us before we were able to get to the mines.”

Merk: “He did?  Well, it’s good that you know.  But there is something more important: the cult has found Lareth’s body.”

Lathander: “WHAT?!  I thought it was impossible to find!”

Merk: “Well they seemed to know exactly where to look.  Tresh and I stumbled upon Chatrilon and other members of the cult digging it up.  We nearly died when Elmo attacked us by surprise…it turned out that the cult had a doppleganger on their side…don’t worry, the real Elmo is fine.  Also, the cult has built a new Temple called the Temple of All Consumption and has moved to this area.  Once Burne found out he sent me and Tresh on a griffon to find you guys.”

The mood of the group switched from grief to worry.  As the Band walked back towards the village, introductions were made all around and the group’s goals were discussed.  Everyone wanted to pay the cult back for what they had done to Strider, but his burial was the most important task.  Tresh said he would not attend the burial and would meet the Band when he had finished with tasks in the town of Rastor.  Lathander didn’t cherish losing a possible helping hand, but he understood nonetheless.  Sentian’s stead, Xerxes, was used to transport the body to a secluded grove Merk had spotted on her way into town.  To ensure that Strider’s spirit was at rest, Lathander took some time to speak with it.  The priest found out that Strider was happily reunited with his wife in the afterlife and did not wish to come back so long as someone would claim his responsibilities: finding Redithidor’s killers, carrying out Mordenkainen’s investigation, and protecting Merkaeytl.  With a heartfelt farewell, Strider’s body was lowered into its grave the next morning at dawn with everyone speaking in turn about the great hero.  Sentian applauded his bravery, Lathander revered his character, Merk spoke of his kindness, but Bandar made the greatest speech of all.

Bandar: “I am sorry Aramek couldn’t be here for this, I know he was your best friend.  Although we didn’t agree on all things, I just wanted you to know that you weren’t just my friend but my leader as well.  I wanted to see this through to the end with you, but now you are gone.  Fear not my friend, for I shall take the standard that has fallen from your grasp…all your responsibilities are now mine.  I will find Redithidor’s killers and I will defeat the Temple that has claimed your life.  This I vow!”

Before the group left the grove, Lathander took the time to meld stones he had collect together into a blank tombstone.  _I will inscribe the words I feel when I return Strider…I promise._  The Band wasted little time in Rastor, only spending a few minutes to gather supplies and leave Xerxes in the care of Tal Chummish.  The group found Elias at the Main Gate, a complete wreck.  Apparently he hadn’t slept at all because he felt like “he was being watched.”

Merk: “And who is this?”

Lathander: “Merk, this is Elias.”

Elias: “Pleased to meet you, Merk.”

Merk (with an appraising glance): “You are a noble aren’t you.”

Elias (taken aback): “Why yes.  How did you know?”

Merk: “Your ring gave it away.”

Elias: “You are very astute.  I am the Scion of House Craylith.”

Merk: “What are you doing out here alone?”

Elias: “Life as a noble was too constrictive…my desire to be a part of the Companion Guard would never have been fulfilled by joining in the politics of Court.  I pleaded for this assignment.”

Lathander (hesitant): “Interesting…but more importantly, when do you think that wagon will arrive Merk?”

Merk: “My guess is that it should be here in a week’s time if not sooner.”

Elias: “I will leave my familiar here so that if it does come while we are in the Mines, we will know about it.”

Merk: “Good thinking!”

The Band made their way back to the caves they fought the apes in, pausing only to allow Merk to spit on the one that killed Strider.  The cave that housed the smaller apes had little of interest, but the cave beyond that one was obviously where the larger ape dwelled from the number bones littering the floor.  A quick search revealed what appeared to be the symbol of the Water temple amongst the bones.  Pressing on into the labyrinth of tunnels, the group discovered a wooden door embedded into the end of a tunnel.  In their excitement the Band forgot its caution and thus Sentian plummeted headfirst when the floor directly in front of the door gave way to reveal a deep pit lined with spikes.  Although the fall did not kill the sturdy paladin, it broke the bond Lathander had placed upon them with his _Shield Other_ spell.  Using some rope, the Band worked to drag the paladin out of the pit.  Once everyone was on the other side, Sentian waited for Merk to try her hand at opening the locked door.  When it was revealed that she had “never really gotten into that sort of thing,” Sentian threw his weight into the door and splintered quite easily.  Stumbling into a hallway of worked stone, Sentian immediately realized the area he was standing in was well lit and decorations adorning walls quite sophisticated for a place that claimed to be just a simple mine.  The hallway extended for about sixty paces before transforming into a four-way intersection.  On the other side of the intersection was a rather large room equipped with plush furniture and a table surrounded by three elven and three human warriors playing tiles.  All of the men were dressed in heavy armor and sported the Elder Elemental Eye on their tunics.  They all turned up from their game to see the lone paladin standing in the hallway.  In a situation like this Sentian did the first thing that came to mind…he brandished his sword menacingly and yelled something valorous at the top of his lungs.

“Surrender or die!”

The soldiers responded by exploding into action.  One of the elves disappeared into the corner of the room, while the rest of his comrades overturned the table and drew bows out.  Before Merk could even cast _Expeditious Retreat_ on herself and draw her bow, the sound of a large gong filled the area.  Lathander reacted to the sound by casting _Obscuring Mist_ on the area and yelling for everyone to stay in the mist.  Everyone prepared themselves while they heard the sounds of movement just outside the fog.  Not being able to stand the tension any longer, Sentian poked his head out of the mist to be greeted by a storm of arrows from two lines of armored soldiers.  Luckily his armor protected him from the hail of steel, but things grew worse as the sound of dogs barking filled the hallway.  In response, Elias summoned a ball of burning flame and sent it blindly down the hallway.  A moment later the sounds of anguish death accompanied the smell of burning flesh.  Sentian gritted his teeth in anger…_What honor is there in hiding behind a screen of smoke?  There is no valor in this!_

With a roar, Sentian emerged from the fog and barreled into the waiting line of soldiers.  As he charged into their ranks he could see that some men had caught on fire from Elias’ spell and more would be joining them shortly.  The paladin swung his sword in a vicious arc, killing many men around him and receiving little punishment in return.  Fearing that they would lose yet another ally, the rest of the party tried to aid their friend but were met by a wave of angry canines.  It became a race for time…Sentian stood in a pile of bodies, but he had taken many wounds himself and he didn’t know how long he could last with wave after wave of reinforcements coming from the hallways.  The rest of the Band tried desperately to kill the dogs and move on but their attacks were difficult to place inside the mists.

Bandar: “Stop the spell Lathander, we need to see what is happening!”

In anger at what was happening, Lathander stopped the spell and thus revealed the true calamity of the situation: Sentian was nowhere to be seen and over a dozen soldiers filled the hallway.  The priest had little time to think as he summoned a ray of positive energy to fill the hallway and vanquish their foes.  When the light subsided, all that was left were a few soldiers who had thrown themselves behind cover and many charred bodies.  Bandar and Elias wasted no time in charging the rest of the soldiers in the hopes of breaking their spirit.  Lathander followed quickly behind, his only concern being the welfare of Sentian Thann.  The priest spotted the brave paladin lying motionless around the corner of the hallway.

Lathander: “To me!”

In an attempt to bolster the party’s defense, Lathander cast _Magic Circle Against Evil._  As soon as the field of protection was erected, an enormous deurgar clad in heavy armor and wielding a dwarven waraxe materialized out of thin air and struck Lathander with all its might.  The priest nearly went down with the first blow and narrowly avoided the second by backpedaling into the wall.  Elias and Bandar focused their energies on destroying this new foe, while Merk put herself in harms way to heal the fallen Sentian.  As Sentian revived himself further, a strange goblin with white robes walked nonchalantly into the midst of the battle.  Bandar diverted his attention momentarily to skewer the insane creature but as he struck it, the creature dissipated into nothing.  Confused, Bandar turned his attention back to the deurgar and began to pummel it with psychic energy.  The restored paladin got to his feet and immediately went to work on the remaining soldiers, killing them before they had a chance to react.  Lathander was doing all he could to defend himself against the skilled deurgar warrior; his fear was further compounded when he noticed an eight-foot tall goblinoid creature heading in the party’s direction from one of the branching hallways.  

The evil grin the goblinoid was sporting vanished when it stopped abruptly a few feet from the party.  The creature snarled in frustration as it beat upon an invisible barrier.  The weakened deurgar yelled something in a foreign language at the goblinoid while as it attacked the party, causing the large creature to move back down the hallway it came from and remove a key it had been carrying on its necklace.  Sentian ended the deurgar’s life by summoning the power of his god into the blade of his sword and smiting the evil warrior with divine vengeance.  The Band’s attention was turned from the body of the fallen deurgar by the sound of a click.  Glancing down the hallway, the party saw the goblinoid creature finish turning a key in the wall and begin to leviatate towards the ceiling.  The bone-shaking sound of a roar was all the incentive anyone needed to begin running for the tunnels of the mines.  Lathander, the last man to make it through the doorway, saw that they were being pursued by the creature of legend: the chimera!  Luckily, the doorway was much too small for the great beast to fit through, allowing the Band to escape back to the Earth Temple.

Once Lathander knew that the danger had passed, he could hold his anger no longer.

Lathander: “Sentian, what where you thinking?!  You can’t go running off without our help!  You were nearly killed!”

Sentian: “There is no shame in showing valor in the face of adversity Lathander.”

Lathander: “Do you have a death wish?  You are only one man Sentian!  You need us just as much as we need you…I just don’t want to see you die.”

Sentian: “I am sorry for scaring you like that; I won’t abandon the group again.”

The rest of the day was spent resting up and discussing tactics.  Lathander was against Merk staying with the group as she would be in great danger, something Strider would have disliked.  Trying to convince her to leave was nearly pointless as she was very stubborn and wanted to do her part in the destruction of the temple.  Since Lathander could not find any alternatives for her to fight the cult, she convinced him that her help would be needed in the depths of the mines.

The next morning the Band found a note scrawled in common indicating dangers the group might face should they continue onwards.  Just as the note indicated, the party’s exploration led them into a den of owlbears.  The battle was quick and ruthless as the party was prepared for well prepared this time.  Further exploration of the area brought the party to a small lake; Lathander called a retreat as he deduced that this was the beginning of the Water Temple and the Band had sworn not entering its lands.  With the destroyed Earth Temple to the south and the Water Temple to the north, the Band had little recourse but to go back into the chimera’s lair.  Before entering, many spells of power were cast on the party to ensure their victory over this foe.  The magically _silenced_ and protected Band moved into the hallway slowly in search for its prey.  They found the chimera asleep, laying in a pool of blood and body parts.  With a silent laugh of what was to come the Band strode forth valiantly, expecting to dispatch the beast with one clean blow…they did not expect the dragon head to immediately wake as Sentian approached and spew a cone of magical frost from its mouth…


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## SolidSnake (Apr 14, 2002)

Bump


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## Rune (Apr 14, 2002)

*Yay!*

Welcome back, Snake!  My favorite Ravenloft story is back!  I'm afraid that I can't follow the current one very closely, because I still want to play in the RttToEE, but I'm still here!


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## SolidSnake (Apr 14, 2002)

*Re: Yay!*



			
				Rune said:
			
		

> *Welcome back, Snake!  My favorite Ravenloft story is back!  I'm afraid that I can't follow the current one very closely, because I still want to play in the RttToEE, but I'm still here! *




Thanks for the support Rune!  Even if you don't read it too close, it is always nice to read a good word from you every so often.  I am trying to accelerate the game, but I don't think we will even get close to the Merge before graduation...there is simply too much to do.  BTW, I really like your Cthulu story hour...very fun to read.


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## Rune (Apr 14, 2002)

*Re: Re: Yay!*



			
				SolidSnake said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Thanks for the support Rune!  Even if you don't read it too close, it is always nice to read a good word from you every so often.  I am trying to accelerate the game, but I don't think we will even get close to the Merge before graduation...there is simply too much to do.*




I understand.  I'm not even halfway to the point I'd hope I'd be at this time in my OA/Dream game (in the sig).  I figured out that I just shouldn't try to rush it.  You'd better not try to, either.  It'll show (and we really just want to prolong it, anyway!).



> *BTW, I really like your Cthulu story hour...very fun to read. *




Thanks!  It was fun to play!  I frightened myself with my masochism, though!


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## SolidSnake (Apr 19, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 11- An Unexpected Ally (or “Everyone close your ey-”)*

	The party recoiled, caught off guard as the chimera’s dragon head spewed frost on everyone, chilling them to their bones.  Merk nearly collapsed from the initial blast, but the others ignored the great pain to engage the monster.  

	Sentian strode into the battle with his gleaming sword poised and his shield raised to ward off the snapping heads.  Boosted by many of Lathander’s spells, Sentian’s armor was nearly impenetrable and his attacks were greatly enhanced.  With huge chops of his blade, he cut deep into the chimera’s chest and pushed it back.  Merk’s cast a spell to no avail while Lathander cast _Prayer_ to aid the party, dropping the _silence_ spell.  Elias moved to the creature’s flank and shot in deep into its side.  Bandar positioned himself and used _Stomp_, almost shaking the creature off its feet.  Cornered, the terrible beast struck back at the towering warrior before it, all three heads and two claws trying to maul Sentian.  The brave paladin deftly blocked most of the blows and let his armor guard him from the rest.

	Realizing her spells were not of much use against such a foe, Merk drew her healing wand and used it on Lathander, who had been hit by frost and shared Sentian’s pain from the battle through his _Shield Other_ spell.  Sentian went furiously on the offensive, crushing the goat head, severing the lion head and carving the chimera from all angles with sweeps of his powerful sword.  The monster howled in agony, on the brink of death from only a few seconds of fighting.  Bandar’s _Stomp_ knocked the beast off its feet, where Sentian cleaved it in two [Sentian had a +18/+13 to hit and +12/+12 to damage! Priest spells rock.].

	The paladin emerged from the fray covered in gore, having almost single-handedly slain the powerful foe.  The rest of the party looked at him in awe – truly, his prowess with the sword was even greater than when they had first fought alongside him!  While Merk used her wand to heal herself, Bandar and Elias spread out, watching for new foes.  They saw a bridge crossing over a pool of water beyond the chimera’s lair, and wondered where it led.

	Just then a door down the hallway from which the group had come burst open, and their large goblinoid opponent reappeared, the one that had let the chimera loose on the Band the last time they had ventured into this area.  It called over its shoulder to someone.  Thanks to Sentian and Lathander’s spells, the chimera proved an easy target, but the fight was far from over.  Knowing the goblin’s weakness, Lathander surrounded himself with a _Magic Circle Against Evil_ and called the party to him.  

While the group fired on the goblin, Sentian strode in front of Lathander to cut the creature down.  It looked with concern down the hall from which the party had entered, but the party did not know why.  Bandar moved up and started to scramble the goblin’s molecules with psionic power, catching it by surprise.  Lathander stepped forward and healed himself for the coming fight, preventing the goblin from approaching any of the group because of the Magic Circle.  It growled in frustration, a growl which turned to a cry of agony as Sentian charged forward and tore into it with his biting sword, sending it reeling.

The Band seemed on the verge of another quick victory thanks to Sentian when suddenly a new foe came charging in, larger than anything they had faced before.  Barreling through wooden doors and stone walls with little effort, a brutish-looking giant charged into the fray, it’s head scraping the fifteen foot ceiling!  It wore hides over its greenish skin and carried three huge clubs.  The enormous Athatch stopped in front of Sentian, unconcerned with Lathander’s magical barrier.  Sentian blocked its powerful club swing, but the blow made his arm burn with exertion.  He gulped as he faced off with the hulking foe.

Given a reprieve, the large goblin stepped aside and nursed its wounds while the Athatch occupied the whole hallway.  The party desperately went to work in fighting the newest and most dangerous monster, relying on Sentian to hold the brute back.  Elias rolled a Ball of Fire around the giant’s legs while Merk crept forward and healed Lathander with her wand, knowing he would need the strength since he was sharing Sentian’s pain through _Shield Other_.  Bandar continued agitating the goblin’s body with his mental power, causing its chest to smoke and boil.  It screamed and ran down the hallway to escape the dwarf’s power.  Lathander meanwhile focused Pelor’s holy energy on the towering Athatch and roasted it painfully while Sentian cut into it with his blade.

The Athatch struck back hard, pounding both Sentian and Lathander with its clubs, which was especially painful for Lathander.  Elias continued rolling his magical fire and shot the creature with an arrow as Merk moved forward and healed Lathander from behind with her helpful wand.  Moving into the fray, Bandar tried to knock the monster off its feet with Stomp but instead he knocked both Lathander and Sentian prone while the huge beast remained standing!  Lathander scrambled to stand and moved to Sentian, readying a spell to heal the wounded warrior.  With that fresh energy, the paladin stood and cut deeply into the dangerous monster, causing it to howl in pain.

Sentian skillfully blocked all the Athatch’s clubs with a flurry of parries, but he fell victim to the beast’s unexpected painful bite.  His magically enhanced muscles sagged, causing him to realize that the terrible bite was accompanied by potent poison.  Sentian began to slump, but Lathander boosted him with a powerful healing spell.  Elias’s ball of flame petered out while he wracked the monster with magic missiles.  Merk moved forward still further to heal Lathander, well into the distracted Athatch’s reach, using her final charge (which rendered the wand useless).  Bandar pounded the creature with a psionic _Concussion_ that added to Sentian’s pair of telling sword blows to its gut.

The party was in desperate straits, but they took heart that the Athatch seemed to be greatly weakened by their combined attacks.  It roared and used its last strength to land blows on both Sentian and Lathander as it bit Sentian again, though he resisted the dangerous poison this time.  Elias pulled back his eleven bow as fury burned in him – he knew that the creature must be killed immediately lest it slay some of his brave companions.  He let fly his best arrow, and the shot was straight and true, puncturing the Athatch’s thick forehead and killing it instantly.  The towering beast collapsed with an earth-shaking crash, and the entire group breathed a sigh of relief.

Lathander caught his breath, then remembered their remaining, wounded goblinoid foe.  With the Magic Circle still functioning, he called the others to him and told them to keep their eyes peeled for the last enemy.  Merk spotted the wounded creature floating in the hallway beyond with its claws ready and informed the group.  It seemed to be waiting for the Band, but it was glancing nervously in both directions, as if it feared some other opponent.  As the party gave chase as best they could while remaining in Lathander’s circle, the goblinoid dropped to the ground and ran off.  As it rounded the bend, it seemed to bump into someone or something and reacted by biting it viciously.  It paused long enough that Bandar came in range to start burning it again with his psionic agitation, which spurred the goblinoid to bypass whatever it had found and ran off yelling something in a foreign tongue.  

In close pursuit of their quarry, Lathander and Sentian reached the corner and found a slim, dark-skinned elf in front of them, his crossbow pointed toward the ceiling as he gestured his non-hostile intentions.  Sentian rushed on to the next doorway, effectively blocking the goblin’s reentry and also the drow’s escape.  As the dark elf locked Lathander’s gaze and spoke in Common:

Drow:  “I wrote you the note telling you what you would find in these tunnels.  I mean you no harm.”

	As Lathander considered this, the other three adventurers caught up and were surprised to find the drow.  Elias hissed some elven curses while Bandar had to hold Merk back from killing the dark elf outright.  The drow realized the full extent of his peril and spoke clearly and directly with Lathander:

Drow:  “I am no agent of the Temple.  I seek to destroy it.  I’ve helped you before and plan to help you again.  We fight the same foe.  We should work together – let me join you.  Don’t let their hatred cloud your judgement.”

Elias: (through clenched teeth) “I am using all my energy just to hold back.  Get out of sight before I kill you!”

	Elias and Merk grew more impatient with restraining themselves while the drow pleaded his case, and they warned the others not to listen to his lies.  Lathander gave the drow as fair a hearing as possible while Sentian glanced out toward the owlbear cavern, looking for any sign of the goblinoid.  Lathander and the dark elf agreed to meet in a day’s time at the front entrance of the Temple to discuss the matter further, much to the displeasure of the two surface elves.  The Band and the drow parted ways to go and recover from the tense and draining battle.  

	Upon returning to the party’s rest area, they broke out in a tense debate:

Merk:  “Lathander, what are you thinking?  You’re going to go talk to a drow?!  He’s clearly some Temple agent – if he’s helping us, it’s only some inter-Temple rivalry, like the Water Temple aiding you against the Earth Temple.  He is full of lies!”

Lathander:  “I had considered that Merkaeytl, and I have a way that will help.  My spell _Zone of Truth_ can discern his lies.”

Elias:  “Drow are well-known to talk around such spells.  They cannot be trusted.”

Lathander:  “Well, to use his aid in giving us information like before would be wrong.  We can plan out questions where he must answer yes or no.”

Bandar:  “I agree, he’s either with us or against us.  We can’t use his help if he can’t join the group, and if he’s not with the group he can’t be trusted – he’d be with the Temple.”

Merk:  (smugly)  “As long as we don’t say that this test will be our sole consideration for letting this drow join the group, I’m game.  I assure you, he will fail to answer the questions we ask!”

By the following morning the group was rested and had healed to recover from the last fight.  Lathander had to use much of his granted power just to return Sentian’s strength to him after the Athatch’s poisonous bite.  The Band went to the front entrance area and found the drow waiting.  Surprisingly, he was willing for the group to cut off his paths of escape and allowed Lathander to cast his _Zone of Truth_.

Lathander:  “My name is Lathander, and I will be asking you questions.  Answer truthfully, for I will be able to tell if you lie.  First, what is your name?”

Drow:  “My name is Rizzen.”

Lathander:  “Do you worship Lloth or Tharizdun?”

Rizza:  “No.”

Lath:  “Are you affiliated with the Earth, Fire, Air, or Water Temples?

Rizza:  “No.”

Lath:  “Are you alone?”

Rizza:  “Yes.  My companions were killed on their way here from the Underdark.”

Lath:  “Why have you come?”

Rizza:  “The priestesses of Lloth sent me here as punishment for something that was not my fault.  They told me to find and kill two priestesses of Lloth who defected to Tharizdun.”

Lath:  “What did you do?”

Rizza:  “I can’t tell you that, or you will be in great danger.”

Merk:  (scornfully)  “Tell us everything!  You expect to earn our trust if you don’t tell us something so important and basic?”  (to the others)  “I told you he wouldn’t be straightforward!”

Rizzen:  (coldly) “I am not dodging the question. That knowledge is a danger to you.  You risk a fate worse than death if I told you what had happened.”

Merk:  (angrily) “We risk our lives daily against powerful foes.  What is worse than that?”

Rizzen:  “You could be turned into a drider or they could torture you and heal you up to torture you more for eternity.  There are fates worse than death.”

Merk just scowled back, but held her tongue.  Returning to his list of questions, Lathander asked:

Lath:  “Would you ever help us for the sake of helping us, if it weren’t in your interest?”

Rizza: “What do you mean?”

Lath:  “If one of us is in peril and you can help, but you put yourself at risk in helping, would you do so?  Each member of the Band puts his or her life on the line for the others without hesitation.  Would you do the same?”

Rizzen: (uneasily)  “I am unaccustomed to your ways, since I am not a surface-dweller.  I am used to two groups together for mutual assistance.  But if something goes wrong, neither party expects the other to stay to help.”

Merk:  “Ha!  He can’t see beyond his interest, he’d leave us in a heartbeat to save his skin.  He can’t be one of the Band.”

Rizzen:  “And you?!?  Could you be trusted to treat me as your fellow, and save me from danger?” he snapped.

Bandar:  (calmly) “She does not need to prove herself.  The issue is whether you should join the group, and the fact that Merk and Elias would have a hard time treating you as a companion does not help you.  It is more reason that you should not join us.”

Rizzen:  “I will say this:  I hate the drow.  I _hate_ them and what they stand for.”

Elias:  “You hate yourself?”

Lath:  “It comes down to this: if we cannot trust you, you cannot be one of us.  We put our lives on the line for each other without hesitation, and it is dangerous to have someone else with us who does not act in that manner.”

Rizzen:  “How can you start this amazing level of trust?  Is there some sort of trial period?”

Bandar:  “We cannot have a half-member or trial member.  You’re either with us or not.  We can’t test to see if you’ll lay your life down for us, because by the time we know it might be too late.  You’ve answered the questions well, but you cannot join.”

Rizzen:  “I’ve heard your claims to total sacrifice and I don’t believe you.  Such a thing is not possible.”

Lath:  “This interview is over.  Best of luck to you.”

	The Band let Rizzen go, and he headed off to the south end of the Main entrance, towards the unexplored mining tracks.  The group returned to the area where they had fought the chimera, where the hallways were strewn with charred, bloodied, and burnt bodies from two massive battles on the same spot.  There was no sign of the goblinoid, but all the other beasts were accounted for.  They found a series of empty living quarters for their vanquished enemies, including barracks, a dining hall, food storage, and kennels for the dogs.  The party took the valuables they found.  Bandar got the duergar warrior’s magical full plate armor.  It was black as night and covered with dwarven runes, but missing the right arm that the chimera had apparently chewed off the dead body.  Sentian took the duergar’s bracers and strapped on the dwarf’s magical axe to sell or give to someone who could use it.

	The Band discovered a map of the local rooms and tunnels, most of which they had already explored.  The map did note that there was a hag in the direction the party had left unexplored, because they thought it was the Water Temple and had given their word not to enter there.  The only place they had not gone in the immediate area was a room off of the dining area.  Merk picked the lock to the door, having practiced the skill in her free time now that she had her lockpicks back.  The door opened, revealing an antechamber and another door beyond.  She stepped forward and unknowingly triggered a pressure plate, which peppered her with arrows.  Lathander rushed to her aid and healed the elf, who then cautiously picked the lock to the last door.

	The area beyond was evidently the personal chambers of the duergar fighter they had slain.  Lathander and Merk took one look at all the books on his shelves discussing Tharizdun and the Temple history, and they both chortled in joy.  What a treasure trove of information!  Just flipping through one tome, Lathander found that the Elder Elemental Eye was just another name for Tharizdun.  The book also claimed that Tharizdun had apparently ruled the Temple behind the scenes in its previous of power, although Iuz asserted that the Temple was his.  

While the rest of the party found gems and potions, Lathander read a note addressed to “Masters” and signed “Omarthias,” which was apparently the duergar’s name.  The short letter complained of the encroachments of the Earth Temple on one side and the Water Temple on the other, in addition to the recent arrival of dangerous Raagen (the dire apes).  The author wanted to send a force to destroy the Raagen, but could not spare the troops without endangering the Northern Bridge Complex to the Outer Fane.  This valuable message confirmed the party’s guess that they had found the Water Temple beyond the Earth Temple, in the area where the map indicated a hag.  It also indicated that this area that the group had just cleared out was an important bridge guarded by servants of Tharizdun as opposed to followers of one element or another.  It protected the important central area of the Temple, called the Outer Fane.

Lathander suggested that the Band cross the bridge into the Fane to catch those within off guard and to get to the heart of the Temple quicker.  Bandar disagreed, saying the group should return to the front entrance they had cleared and explore to the opposite (Southern) side, which he assumed was the Fire Temple.  Bandar wanted to avoid Temple agents from the South blocking the Band’s escape out the main entrance – without exploring in that direction, the group had no idea what could happen while their backs were turned.  Lathander approved of the plan because if the other side was the Fire Temple, they could fulfill their obligation to the creature that had freed them from captivity in the Earth Temple.  It had told them to destroy the Earth Temple, stop at the Water Temple, and await instructions at the Fire Temple.  They had done the first two, and now could complete the last part of the orders.  The group agreed to retrace their steps and venture south of the main entrance.  Before they left, they destroyed the bodies of the largest monsters they had encountered in the northern bridge complex so they couldn’t be raised as the howler had been.  It was gruesome but necessary work.

After returning through the Earth Temple to get to the main entrance, the group headed in the unexplored Southern direction, soon finding a flawless statue of a gnoll.  They moved beyond that curiosity and soon found another, similar statue that had been toppled over and broken.  They could see movement in the cavern beyond, right at the edge of the torchlight, but they had no idea what lurked beyond.  Sentian called out a challenge, and in response a lizard-like creature charged into view.  Lathander realized the group’s blunder and tried to call out, but the basilik’s eyes turned the brave priest to stone.  The rest of the Band closed their eyes immediately, cursing their stupidity at not guessing how such perfect gnoll statues had been created.  Merk, Bandar, and Elias were of little help with their eyes closed as they fumbled forward to engage the monster in battle.  Sentian took it head-on – he was a formidable foe even without his sight.  With little help from the rest, the paladin dispatched the foul creature.  

The situation harkened back to Strider being turned to stone by the cockatrices in the Moathouse, an event that seemed like ages ago.  Sadly and shame-facedly, the group gathered up their treasure as Sentian hauled Lathander’s statue back to Rastor with great care.  Merk led them to the house of Tymerian, the wizardess in Rastor.  Burne had introduced Merk to Tymerian through a letter of introduction, and the wizardess proved a helpful resource.  Tymerian quickly surmised the situation and agreed to contact Burne for help in returning Lathander to flesh.  While the wizardess relayed the message, Merk had to find a priest capable of casting such a spell.  Tymerian introduced Merk to Thandane Deeperdark, a female dwarven warrior of few words.  Thandane learned of the problem and took the group to meet the local cleric of Moradin, Rerrid Hammersong.  Hammersong heard Merk out and agreed to cast the spell on the scroll when it arrived.  

The party waited two days for the scroll from Burne to arrive.  In the meantime, Elias used Tymerian’s lab for a simple fee to identify some of the items the Band had collected.  Once the scroll arrived, Hammersong came and cast it, returning Lathander to health.  Very grateful, Lathander insisted that the dwarven cleric take the duergar’s magical axe.  Hammersong accepted, and asked the group to do him a favor.  There was a Temple of Moradin in the mines before they fell to the evil forces, and some dwarven artifacts were lost with the dark conquest.  Hammersong asked the group to return those artifacts when they found them, to which Lathander quickly agreed.

From what Hammersong and Tymerian told the group about their knowledge of the Temple, the party could surmise much.  Merk put everything they had learned and that she had guessed together: The complex was a rough circle around a dormant volcano.  To the East and West were entrances to the outside world.  To the North and South were bridges to the Fane in the center of the volcano.  Each of these four locations was guarded by the servants of Tharizdun himself, since their protection could not be left to the squabbling followers of each element.  The four elemental temples each held a quarter of the temple’s outer ring, with Earth having been in the North-West, Water the North-East, Fire the South-West, and by default Air in the South-East.  The Band had therefore conquered more than a quarter of the outer ring, having destroyed the Earth Temple as well as the West Entrance and the Northern Bridge areas.  Merk assumed that the Temple would be symmetrical in construction to guess all of this from what little the party had seen thus far.  

Tymerian warned the Band against trying to bypass the outer ring by going over the top of the volcano – she had done as much with a group of companions, and most of them had died.  Lathander asked her to watch over the party through scrying.  Tymerian agreed, asking for a keepsake for each person to allow the spell to function.  

The Band of the Rising Sun prepared to reenter the dreaded Temple of All Consumption to confront what dangers awaited them.


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## SolidSnake (Apr 26, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 12- Homecoming (or “THAT’S NOT A COCKROACH!!!!”)*

The Main Gate, a portal that had stood open ever since the great battle with Strider, now stood closed.  The Band had expected many things, but not such a sudden fortification by the enemy.  Creeping up to the door, Merk noticed movement behind most of the arrow slits and heard noise beyond the doors.  After informing the party of her discovery, Lathander offered to shape an entrance through the stone itself with divine power.  Everyone agreed; however, that Lathander’s plan would be far too dangerous with each of the arrow slits manned by experienced archers.  Many plans were put forth, including another variant on Lathander’s wherein he would drill a hole through the mountainside with his divine power directly into the Mines…but of all these plans Sentian’s produced the most commotion.

Sentian: “Why don’t we just go see if the door is actually locked?”

Stunned, the rest of the Band agreed that this would be the best course of action provided that it was quick and bloodless.  Lathander quickly cast _Silence_ upon Sentian and _Sanctuary_ on himself to prevent the archers from harming him.  The plan worked nearly as expected; the only surprising feature was that Sentian’s armor did not protect him from the incredible accuracy of the archers’ hail of arrows…the door was indeed locked.

The party retreated to a safer distance in order to come up with a better plan.  Elias listened patiently to all the solutions, but decided on his own that action was the only real solution.  Using ancient arcane secrets, the elf summoned his globe of fire and had it collide with the great doors again and again until it ignited in flame.  With options quickly fading from their repertoire, the Band had no choice but to back up its most junior member’s decision.  Bandar waited until the fire died down before pummeling it with powerful waves of psychic force.  It wasn’t long before the doors were blasted from their hinges, exposing the familiar entrance to the Crater Ridge Mines.

The men guarding the entrance had not stood idly by while the fire raged, instead they had overturned a wagon near the entrance and stacked as many supplies as they had around its edges in order to create a makeshift barricade.  The enemy did attempt to make a valiant effort to resist the righteous forces of good, but in the end it was utterly futile.  Lathander opened the battle with a ray of _Searing Light_ and things just seemed to fall into place from there.  In a matter of a few minutes the enemy force had been reduced to three prisoners.  Not one to be without mercy, Lathander attempted to warn the men what would happen if they were seen here again.  The soldiers turned out to be mercenaries who were new to the organization…apparently times had become hard with many of the great Kingdoms waging war on Iuz’s dark Empire; men took the jobs they could.  This gave the priest of Pelor much to think about as Merk grilled them about the “cargo” they were transporting into the temple.  It was mostly food and replacement clothing, but the men did confide that they had turned over a corpse to a strangely robed a day from the Mines.  After turning the prisoners loose, the Band went to rest up in the cave where they had defeated the Basilisk [DM Note: evidently they are beginning to think that staying in the same place every night may not be such a good idea…go figure].

The next morning the party made its way down the tunnel they had begun to explore before Lathander was unceremoniously turned to stone.  The tunnel had many branches that led to empty caves and even a few connecting passageways, which coupled it to a parallel tunnel containing similar tracks for supporting an ore cart.  To make sure that all of the possibilities had been explored, the Band made every effort to check all of the branches so that they would not face enemies from the front and the rear should they ever begin a battle in these tunnels.  On one such exploration, the group did not take the necessary precautions to ensure safety before heading down a passageway.  This particular corridor was one of the few connections between the parallel tunnels and unfortunately housed a malicious life form.  Bandar and Lathander only had time to look up as green slime sloughed off the ceiling and covered the pair of adventurers.  Both men screamed in agony as the slime began to eat away at metal and flesh while they rolled about on the ground.  Bandar had the right idea by scraping the substance off with his gauntlets, but it wasn’t coming off fast enough so Elias had to step in once again.  Conjuring his burning globe of fire, Elias watched as the orb rolled over his companions numerous times to purge them of the ooze that was digesting their flesh [DM note: this was hilarious…I guess you had to have been there].  Needless to say after this confrontation much had been consumed by the slime: shields, backpacks, a spear, a crossbow, banded mail, some vials of holy water, Redithador’s note, and most importantly: pride.  The bedraggled Band returned to Rastor once again to heal up and re-equip themselves with whatever was available in the village.

Once again, the Band of the Rising Sun entered the Temple of All Consumption to test their mettle against the forces of evil.  This time; however, the Band chose an alternate tunnel to test their bravery.  The path they chose didn’t seem any safer than the last one when armor-plated magma worms burrowed out of the floor directly beneath them in their explorations.  Armor of any kind seemed to little avail against these fiery foes, but the Band soon left their burning blood to pool on the ground as they continued onward.  The tunnel continued downward for quite sometime before it opened up into an enormous cavern.  An overturned cart lay next to the tracks that traveled through the cave and a smaller cave was attached to the larger cavern a few paces from the tunnel.  Directly above, the party noticed (through a rather large hole) that the parallel tunnel they had traveled before crossed over the one they were currently using.  Spreading out the group began exploring the cavern…this didn’t last very long as everyone was abruptly jerked away from their respective examinations when a large scream erupted from the smaller cave.  The party conglomerated quickly as a screaming Ettin emerged from the darkness wielding two impressively large clubs.  Bandar had barely enough time to bring his shield up as the behemoth brought the club down on his shoulder, emitting a sickening crunching sound.  Merk reacted quickly to the situation by planting an arrow in the ettin’s belly, while Sentian attempted to shove his enchanted sword into the giant’s leg.  Sentian’s attacks were effortlessly blocked by one of the monster’s clubs, while it continued to pummel the retreating Bandar.  Merk and Elias paid the ettin back in kind by peppering it with another volley of arrows.  The battle became a bit more complicated with the emergence of a large cockroach.  None of the party paid it any attention, as they were more concerned with the ettin…this proved to be a fatal mistake.  With both Lathander and Bandar supporting him, Sentian began to find his rhythm in battle and severely wound the ettin.  Before long, Sentian was predicting every swing the ettin could conceive of and counter it with swift sword strokes.  The paladin barely noticed the insect’s feelers as they lay themselves upon his armor.  The paladin watched in horror as the armor his family had handed down for generations dissolved into a pile of rust right before his eyes!  Sentian remembered his father telling him how Heironeous himself had blessed the armor and that it was an invaluable heirloom only given to the greatest of champions the Thann family had to offer.  The armor had not only absorbed the impact from many foes, but also served as a mantle of courage Sentian had always carried…he felt helpless without its comfort.  In blind rage, Sentian lashed out at the creature that had robbed him of his heritage with _Ice_, the weapon taken from Strider’s fallen body.  With a scream of anguish, Sentian saw the blade crumble before him as the metal touched the foul monster’s carapace.  The ettin took advantage of his this distraction to inflict more pain upon the paladin and with his armor gone it was an easy task.  It took all of Lathander’s healing powers to keep the great warrior aloft as the giant beat down upon him with a savage fury.  Bandar attempted to reverse the tide of defeat by sending blasts of sonic power into both adversaries.  This coupled with Elias’ most powerfully destructive spells were enough to send the Rust Monster back to the hell that had spawned it.  The ettin succumbed shortly thereafter to Sentian’s mirage of steel and hatred.

With their most powerful warrior without any fitting protection, the Band was forced to return to Rastor to think of ways of overcoming their obstacles.

Elias: “Well, what now?”

Lathander: “We must travel to Greyhawk.  There we can restock our lost equipment and maybe find something that will help us against in this struggle.”

Bandar: “That is foolish.  We cannot leave this place for such a long time.”

Lathander: “What can they possibly do?”

Bandar: “Plenty and we would have no idea until it was too late.  We have the initiative here, let’s not lose it.”

Lathander: “Sentian will not last out there without proper armor.”

Sentian: “I fear Lathander is right…I will be no use to you in our battles if I am dead.”

While the Band argued as to what they would do, Merk talked to Tymerian and asked her if Burne had been in contact with her.  The great wizard had told Tymerian to inform the party that he had left for the kingdom of Furyondy as well as the fact that Aramek was on his way to Rastor.  With this new information, the party agreed to let Sentian travel to Greyhawk to obtain new armor while the rest of the members waited for Aramek.

It wasn’t long before the familiar dwarf entered the village.  With a warm welcome, the Band embraced their oldest member and dearest friend.

Aramek: “Sorry I’m late…had to pay me respects.”

Lathander: “It’s good to see you Aramek.  What did you do with Dr. Noh’s body?”

Aramek: “I gave it to Yether like ye said…and I gave him the letter ya gave me.  You priests of Pelor sure have strange burial rites…never known a priest ta stab the earth with a spear.”

Lathander: “What are you talking about?”

Aramek: “I found a spear with a note attached to it stabbed in Strider’s grave.  I didn’t think it was proper for no Moradin-loving man, so I took it out.”

Merk: “We didn’t do that!”

After a slight uproar, it was determined that the spear belonged to the strange man known as Tresh who had disappeared after the initial encounter with the Band.  The note was also his…

_It was good traveling with you for a time.  I am beginning to understand where Strider’s strength came from.  Be careful because the Brotherhood is looking for your friend Eblis…I tried to delay them.  Good luck.
						-Tresh_

This produced even more confusion as the man had never met Strider before and no one knew what he was referring to with the word “Brotherhood.”  This seemed to make little difference to Aramek as he informed the group that he was going to systematically destroy everything in that Mine.  Lathander spoke up against this idea, citing Pelor’s scripture in reference to “mercy” and “compassion.”  This didn’t sway the dwarf from his policy of “give no quarter;” he even threatened to go in alone if he had to.

Bandar: “You won’t survive alone.  We need you just as much as you need us.”

Aramek: “A dwarf’s gotta do what a dwarf’s gotta do.  If you don’t like my me methods then find yerself another dwarf.”

Lathander: “Is this what Strider would want…your death?  You know it is suicide out there by yourself.”

Aramek: “Maybe…maybe not…who knows until ye try.”

Bandar: “Don’t do it.  We need you.”

Aramek (with a slight grin on his face): “Alright lad, I’ll tell you what.  You get Merk not to go in with us and I’ll play nice.” _That one is for you old friend._

Bandar: “Fine with me.”

Lathander: “Thank Pelor you’re here!”

Elias: “Whatever.”

Of course Merk wasn’t too happy with these arrangements.  The Band tried to comfort her with “important” jobs she could be doing in town to gain valuable information, but the perceptive elf saw right through the ruse.  It took all the persuasion skills Lathander could muster to convince her that this was “for her own good” and that it was “what Strider would have wanted.”  Her replies, when not in curses, alluded to the fact that “she was her own woman and not some dead man’s property.”  However, at the end of the day Merk finally agreed to stay in Rastor on the condition that if she found out that the party died, she would go into the Mines by herself and finish the job.  No one had any problem with that, as they would all be dead at the time.

Aramek (with Merk out of earshot): “Let’s go pick up another man…it’s suicide to go in there with just the four of us.”

Lathander and Elias had to restrain Bandar from throttling the headstrong dwarf.  It seemed as if the dwarf’s trip to Hommlet hadn’t changed him one bit: he was still brash, lewd, and knew exactly what to say to piss everyone off…


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## SolidSnake (May 17, 2002)

*Goodbye...for now*

Well it looks like my group didn't make it after all!  The end of college has finally caught up with us and now my gaming group must go its seperate ways.  I must admit that I am rather sad as we have spent such a long time on this campaign and we aren't going to even get close to finishing it.  The university is also shutting down my personal website, so that will be gone shortly as well.  In any event, I just wanted to thank everyone who read the campaign and provided me with support.  This board has been so helpful in providing me with an outlet for my thoughts.  Thanks again and I hope to revive this thread once again

A special thanks goes out to Rune, whose constant posting fueled my passion for writing.


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## Rune (May 17, 2002)

*Re: Goodbye...for now*



			
				SolidSnake said:
			
		

> *
> A special thanks goes out to Rune, whose constant posting fueled my passion for writing. *




Why, thank you!  But surely this doesn't mean you won't get back to the campaign!?!  Ever?

We'll miss you (and your story, of course!)!


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## SolidSnake (May 28, 2002)

*Re: Re: Goodbye...for now*



			
				Rune said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Why, thank you!  But surely this doesn't mean you won't get back to the campaign!?!  Ever?
> 
> We'll miss you (and your story, of course!)!  *




Well I'm not sure about "Ever," but it doesn't look too good.  But don't fret, I have two-three more sessions to write up before I check out


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## SolidSnake (May 28, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 13- “The dead friend will not really die until tomorrow, when silence is round you again. Then he will show himself complete, as he was--to tear himself away, as he was, from the substantial you. Only then will you cry out because of him who is leaving and whom you cannot detain. “ -Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (or “And another one bites the dust…”)*

The search for an additional member to the party was more difficult than the Band had anticipated. Most of the local men had no wish to travel into the "cursed mines." Everyone was about to give up when a halfling melded away from a roving crowd of human loggers. With audacity uncommon for a man of that stature, the halfling walked straight up to the Band and introduced himself. 

Halfling (addressing Elias): “My name is Stacy and I would be interested in joining your party.” 

Aramek (between bouts of laughter): “Your name is Stacy??!” 

Bandar (ignoring Aramek): “How do you know of us?” 

Stacy: “Your fame has spread through the village like wildfire…the daring group of adventurers that continuously risks its life to quell the evil in the mines.” 

Bandar: “Are you sure you want to join? It is no easy task and many of our members are dead already.” 

Stacy: “I understand and accept this responsibility.” 

Bandar: “What skills do you have that could be useful to us?” 

The halfling seemed to ponder the words for a moment before his face contorted in a mask of distress at something approaching the group from behind. Needless to say everyone turned instinctively only to find that there was no danger at all. When their gazes came back to the halfling, he was gone! 

Bandar: “He's in.” 

With its newfound strength, the Band entered the Crater Ridge Mines once again. Their travels took them past the cavern where they had fought the rust monster and its ettin master, into an even greater cave containing a dwarven device used to scoop rock onto a raised track. A quick inspection revealed that someone had recently used the ancient track. The inquisitive party decided to continue onward past the great machine, but was stopped cold by a booming voice that spoke from the darkness ahead in Common. 

“STOP!” 

Elias was the only member of the Band who had a gift with languages and so it was he who recognized the accent inherent in the voice's pronunciation. 

Elias (in draconic): “Who are you?” 

Dragon (in common): “An educated man…impressive. However, your education has not prepared you for a battle with me. I suggest that you not jump to conclusions about your current predicament and proceed to attack me.” 

Elias: “What would you have of us then?” 

Dragon: “A simple sign of respect for gracing my lands would be sufficient to allow your passage to remain unmolested.” 

Not wanting to do battle with another dragon, the Band quickly relieved themselves of a few choice gems. This seemed to appease the dragon and allow the party some respite against violence. 

Elias: “I am curious as to what kind of dragon you are.” 

Dragon (with a chuckle): “You mean what breed don’t you? Well I’m sure that I could teach you a thing or two about Dragon Lore, but I must say that I am a…costly tutor.” 

Bandar: “Which elemental temple rules now?” 

Dragon: “The fire temple of course.” 

Everyone agreed that traveling towards the dragon was a mistake, so they took a tunnel that traveled in the opposite direction. The roughly hewn stone began to show growth as the party continued onward until the Band found themselves in a veritable underground fungal forest. Some mushrooms were as tall as a man; the Band gave those a wide berth as they traveled forward. The tunnel began to descend rapidly, until the party came across a narrow staircase. At the base of the stairs was the maggot-ridden body of a decapitated umber hulk. No one in the party had ever had any experience with the creature, but everyone was sure from Aramek’s stories that it was a monster not to be trifled with. The group huddled closer and pressed on cautiously, some of the members having second thoughts about continuing. These doubts proved to be well founded as the party rounded the bend of a rather narrow tunnel and found themselves in another cavern. The cavern was fairly sparse, save a huge pit in its center filled with bones and feces…but this wasn’t what attracted everyone’s attention. The sight of two giant scaly humanoids with razor-sharp claws and daggers for teeth was enough to cause the Band to forget their own names. 

The trolls charged screaming into the party’s ranks. Aramek barely had time to raise his shield in defense as one of the troll’s claws ripped through his dragonscales, tearing bone and flesh indiscriminately. The sturdy dwarf retaliated by introducing his warhammer to the troll’s face, smashing its jaw into thousands of pieces. Elias attempted to burn the troll’s companion with a rolling ball of flame, but the creature proved to be too quick for his spell. Bandar’s powers shook the earth and knocked one of the trolls to the ground, buying time for the rest of the party to gain position. Arrows from Elias and a _Color Spray_ from Stacy wore away at the troll’s resolve. Just when victory seemed eminent, the battle was joined by another troll wearing armor decorated in the religious symbols of Tharizdun. This creature carried a massive double-bladed sword that stretched nearly twenty feet in length! The confrontation became more desperate as the Band adjusted their strategy for this new enemy. Both sides spilled much blood, but the trolls seemed to have the advantage as their flesh instantly restored itself after every blow. Daggers and arrows protruded from all the trolls, but somehow it didn’t seem to faze them. Attempts by Bandar to scramble the troll’s molecules did show results, but it was not enough to destroy the creature. Eventually the Band was able to win the encounter by the sheer physical trauma they inflicted upon the enemy, but at the cost of a mortally wounded priest of Pelor. While some of the members cut the trolls into pieces, others doused the remains in oil and set them aflame. The armored troll; however, did not burn like the rest so the solution was to sever the head and chop the body into a fine paste. Bandar called a retreat knowing the situation the party was in: Bandar and Stacy had expended most of their powers, Aramek was exhausted after his berserker rage, and Lathander was unconscious. The plan was to allow Stacy to scout ahead, while Elias and Bandar covered Aramek as he transported Lathander. 

Stacy knew that he was all but invisible and silent as he ascended the stairs past the dead umber hulk body, but it didn’t seem to matter. As he moved away from the top of the stairs, the wall behind him exploded in a shower of rock. The halfling reacted quickly by flowing with the force of the impact and rolling beyond the reach of the umber hulk that had now made its presence known. Yelling a warning to the other members of the party, Stacy ran, attempting to draw the umber hulk away from the party. The plan did not work as the umber hulk was interested in weakened prey. The colossal creature shambled forth, its mandibles clicking menacingly.

Elias reacted quickly, calling for both Bandar and Aramek to run past it while he would keep it busy.  Aramek understood the gravity of the situation and did not argue with Elias on this point; tossing Tresh’s spear to Bandar, he heaved Lathander’s body over his shoulder and ran towards the stairs.  Bandar followed him, but more slowly as he became fascinated with the lights that had begun to illuminate the haft of the spear.  _What is this?_  When both men reached the stairs; however, they simply stopped dead in their tracks.  Neither dwarf seemed to care that a battle raged between Elias and the umber hulk.

Stacy came back to the party only to find Elias in single combat with the umber hulk and the dwarves essentially paralyzed in a stupor by the stairs.  The halfling watched the elf dance about the umber hulk’s claws and land blow after blow in the creases of the monster’s carapace.  Blood was streaming down the man’s arm and leg, but he didn’t seem to notice as he moved graceful from one stance to the next.  Frustrated by the skill its prey showed, the umber hulk lashed out more furiously at Elias.  The elf nimbly dodged both claws, but had not anticipated the speed of its mandibles.  Stacy watched in horror as he saw the pincers rip through his new companion.  Elias dropped his weapons in shock and attempted to free himself of the creature’s grasp, but it was too late…a massive claw ended the elf’s agony by tearing out his throat.

Stacy: “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

The umber hulk had just enough time to turn so that it could see the dagger imbed itself into its compound eye.  Stacy wasn’t sure if it was his scream that awoke Aramek from his stupor, but frankly he didn’t care.  It was one of the greatest sights he had ever witnessed when the dwarf dropped Lathander’s body to the ground and swung his warhammer into the unprepared umber hulk’s back.  He could hear the crunch of its armor even from where he stood.  That pleasure was short-lived; with a casual swipe, the umber hulk dropped the great dwarven warrior to the earth.  The monster grabbed Bandar’s still motionless form and proceeded to walk towards Stacy; it paid him no mind whatsoever, even as the halfling peppered the umber hulk with his remaining daggers.  The umber hulk was about to enter its layer when the halfling managed to strike the creature in a particular sensitive area at the base of the head.  The umber hulk dropped Bandar and rounded on the terrified halfling.  A single swipe from its claw was enough tear into Stacy’s torso and fling him nearly ten feet into the air, but the halfling just laughed as his body rebounded from the ground.  In its anger, the umber hulk had made a tactical miscalculation: it had presumed that there was only one enemy remaining, when there were actually two.  Coming to this realization to late, the umber hulk only shuddered as Bandar’s new spear impaled it through the chest.

Both wounded men took some time to check on everyone’s status before hauling the bodies back to a secluded cave.  Neither Stacy nor Bandar slept that night to ensure that nothing got the drop on them.  Bandar wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but during the night he thought he saw Stacy weeping.  Whatever the facts, Bandar was not about to inform anyone of this, so he simply waited until Lathander awoke before he passed out from exhaustion.  By the time the dwarf opened his eyes, the rest of the party (saved Elias) was restored.  No one talked as they marched Elias’ body back to the grove where they had buried Strider.  Only one person had dared to interrupt their procession through Rastor, a strong-looking bald human man with strange tattoos covering his body.  The man had asked to speak with the party, but Lathander informed him that they would be indisposed for the rest of the day and asked him to meet them tomorrow morning.  The strange man obviously did posses some form of tact as he bowed his head with understanding and left the Band to bury its fallen comrade.  Although Lathander was the only ordained priest in the party, Merk vehemently asked to give Elias the last rights herself in an elven tradition.  Aramek relieved Elias of _Shatterspike_ and his signet ring and sword were given to Merk to give to the Elven Nation of Celene along with his ashes.  The Band had lost another valued member, but no one had lost the will to continue…in fact, Elias’ heroic death only hardened their resolve against Cult of Thazidun.


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## SolidSnake (Nov 2, 2002)

*Back in business!*

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 14, Part 1- Enter the Dragon (or “I came here to kick a** and chew bubblegum…and I’m all out of gum.”*

Once the party had paid its respects to their friend Elias, they rested and prepared to return to the Temple.  Merkaeytl updated the group on the happenings in Rastor, her job ever since the rest of the party insisted she stay at the rear (her fury over the decision had now abated).  She kept an eye on the town with a small group of kids as her informants, and spent much of her time studying the books the party had captured from the Temple.  Her most important news was about the strange man covered in tattoos.

A few days before Merk had been relaxing in Rastor’s dirty tavern, her ears perked for news, when news walked in.  The stranger was bald with a well-chiseled frame and a very intense gaze.  Most strikingly, he prominently displayed bright tattoos all over his upper body.  Everyone in the tavern ceased what they were doing to stare at the newcomer – there had been plenty of strange events as of late, but this guy was a new category in himself.  Nobody had ever seen anyone like him before.  Merk slipped out of her chair and headed to the tattooed warrior, but she needn’t have bothered - he moved towards her immediately.  As soon as the rugged men around them turned back to their previous conversations, shaking their heads, the stranger abruptly addressed Merkaeytl after pulling out an ancient scroll with seven distinct symbols on it:  

“Do you know anyone who has a tattoo like one of these symbols?”

This guy is even weirder than I thought, Merk thought, as she responded “Do you always start conversations this way?”  She noticed that one of the seven runes on the scroll was a red hand, like the tattoo she’d seen upon occasion on the nape of Bandar’s neck.

Merk got the man to sit down while he proceeded to tell her a totally new and interesting story that surprised her a great deal, though she tried not to show it.  Her acquaintance was anything but subtle and spilled his whole tale in the course of a few minutes without hesitation.  

His name was Gholoth, and he was a psion.  He sought the Azure Emperor, the ruler of the psionists in the golden age of psionics long ago.  He wanted to find others with the symbols he wore, who represented the Wards of the seven Broken Houses.  According to prophecy they would be able to help him find the Azure Emperor so they could restore their great empire.  

The tale would have seemed pure fantasy to her, but it was too outrageous to be false.  Gholoth seemed very strong in his views and convinced of the critical importance of his mission in the world.  Also, Merk had seen Bandar’s tattoo and knew that it perfectly matched one of Gholoth’s seven tattoos, so there must be something to this story.  

Merk suggested that Gholoth keep his mission under wraps a bit more – after all, he had told her everything of importance without knowing anything about her.  It was news to her that a psionic emperor ruled these lands long ago, and there are probably few left who would know anything about it.  Even so, few people would want a golden age of psionics to return.  There’s bound to be opposition, so maybe Gholoth should watch what he says?  The monk replied that he isn’t on a secret mission and he isn’t worried about enemies.

Merk failed to interest Gholoth in the quest to destroy the Temple of All Consumption, though she explained how vile it is and how serious a threat it poses.  The single-minded psion was not interested in a side quest that might distract him.  To keep his interest, Merk mentioned that she knows someone with a tattoo like the ones Gholoth has.  The monk insisted that he meet and talk to this Ward.  According to Gholoth, if the ward knew of the importance of finding the Azure Emperor, he would agree to help.  Merk wouldn’t say any more until she talked to her friends, and the strange conversation ended there.

After Merk recounted this meeting with Gholoth to the rest of the Band following their final rites for Elias, they spotted Gholoth again.  The headstrong monk approached and explained his quest to everyone, exactly as he had to Merk.  Bandar immediately recognized the tattoo of the red hand that matched his tattoo, but he kept the mark hidden by his clothing and armor.  He wondered to himself if he were the  “House Ward” for House of Faerst and if so, what did that mean?  Was this man one of the ‘Brotherhood’ that Tresh had warned them about in his note?  It did not seem wise to tell Gholoth about his tattoo until they knew much more about him.

Lathander told Gholoth that they have seen all seven symbols that Gholoth seeks before, on their friend Eblis’ sword.  Hearing that news, Gholoth’s eye went wide.  He exclaimed that the blade was the Sword of Ages, given as a gift to the Azure Emperor and wielded by his descendents.  He must find this man!  Merk sensed a way to recruit Gholoth without telling him about Bandar’s mark and having Gholoth try and pull him away from the group.  She said that Temple agents captured Eblis long ago and the only way to find him is to go into the mines and free him.  This could be true, but in reality the group had no idea where Eblis was, but they could use a new companion, so nobody objected to Merk’s fabrication.  Gholoth was ready and willing to go into the Temple to recover Eblis, so he joined the group.

Merk winked to the others as they set out for the Temple.  Then she turned solemnly to Elias’ body, and took it away from town to do the elven rites before cremating it.  She kept Elias’ house ring, sword, and his ashes, and sent off a letter with a merchant heading toward the elves.  The letter explained Elias’ valiant sacrifice and let the elves know to come pick up his belongings.  Merkaeytl thought back to all the companions they had lost, especially Strider, and her eyes welled up with tears.

Meanwhile, Lathander introduced Gholoth to the Band’s rule: each member was part of the team and was willing to give up his life for the others.  Gholoth would have to prove his willingness to follow this rule – he would soon be tested.  Lathander cast Bull’s Strength on Aramek and Gholoth in preparation for whatever they might face.  

Bandar mused about what they had learned of the Temple after their last incursion.  Before Merk had concluded that the Temple was a large loop with each of the four Elements ruling a quarter.  In between each of the Elements were areas ruled by the Tharizdun cult overall – entrances on the east and west, and bridges to the center of the volcano at the north and south.  Now they had found the South Western part mostly abandoned, and the dragon had told them that the Fire Temple was in the center of the volcano.  So the Band had cleared the Western Entrance, the Earth Temple, the Northern Bridge Complex, and most of the dragon’s sector.  The armored troll they had faced was probably from the Southern Bridge Complex, if their concept of the Temple was correct.  Clearly, the water creature that had saved the party from the Earth Temple had expected them to destroy the Earth Temple and the Northern Bridge Complex and then prepare to go into the center.  Instead, the Band had decided to clear the outer loop before going to the center.  They could go through the Southern Bridge Complex, the Wind Temple, and the Eastern Entrance before encountering the Water Temple at the other side and deciding what to do next.

The group worked their way back through the tunnels of the Mines, checking the areas they had cleared before going any further.  They went around the dragon’s lair and checked a side room they hadn’t explored the last time through.  Inside they found strange hard animal droppings and a foul stench assaulted their nostrils.  As they looked around, a sudden shower of acid from above surprised them.  Gritting their teeth against the pain, the group looked up saw that there was a hidden ledge above them, occupied by a bizarre two-legged human-sized lizard with an acid-spouting snout.  The group backed up, attacking the monster with whatever ranged weapons they had.  Gholoth presented some new and helpful talent by using his mental powers to heal himself as he leapt back.  The monk took note of Bandar’s mental blast of energy that pummeled the creature.  The strange monster responded by jumping on Lathander and mauling him with its large claws.  With great skill, Stacy came out of the shadows and tore into the beast with his dagger, then melted away again.  Gholoth closed into melee with the beast using powerful kicks and punches, and kept it at bay.  Aramek had earlier shaken his head that someone would go into the Temple without weapons or armor, but Gholoth was quickly proving why he had no need for either.  

Now that the monster was amongst them, the party struck at it with their usual fervor.  While Aramek and Lathander battered it with their weapons, Bandar fried the creature’s skin with psionic energy and Gholoth landed bone-breaking punches and kicks.  Stacy would suddenly appear at an unexpected place and jab at the monster, then fall back and out of view.  The monster managed another painful shower of acid, this time on just Lathander and Aramek.  While they sputtered with pain, Gholoth did a series of powerful kicks that snapped the lizard’s neck in three different directions so it was utterly dead before it even hit the floor.  

Bandar, in his usual understated way, simply said “I guess you don’t have to use weapons.”  Gholoth pointed out that Bandar hadn’t used weapons either, and hadn’t said that he uses psionics.  Bandar admitted that he uses psionics, but left it at that.

After ascertaining that the rest of the room was clear, the party healed and proceeded further.  They passed through the cavern filled with mushrooms and explored a side cavern that they had bypassed on their last visit.  There they found curious glowing fungi obviating the need for a lantern in the room.  After a bit of searching they happily discovered a stash of gold and silver which they left so as not to burden them.  

Beyond the Band found another large, fungi-filled cavern, this one littered with bones.  In the lead of the group, Aramek and Gholoth discovered a deep pit the hard way.  They were battered but alive.  While the others readied ropes to drop down, Bandar noticed that a mound of mushrooms was moving toward the group, but nobody else could see it.  By the time they could see the danger, it was too late – they glimpsed the creature’s eyes and lost control.  Lathander sat down and began praying with his small shrine.  Bandar felt as though he was wandering on a carefree night, and enjoyed the stars.  Despair overcame Stacy, and he sobbed on his own.  Aramek and Gholoth, busy climbing out of the deep pit, were disturbed by the sudden lack of communication with their companions above.  Bandar thought that there was an “Orc” disturbing his peaceful nighttime walk, and attacked back, injuring the “Orc” with his spear.  

Gholoth came out of the pit and saw what was going on.  Thankfully, he resisted the fungi-covered Umber Hulk’s magical gaze, which had sent the others crazy.  Aramek reached the top and resisted the magic as well, but the Umber Hulk ripped the dwarf with its claws before he could get to his feet.  Stacy sat, jabbering in a foreign tongue while Lathander continued to pray fervently, both oblivious to the battle raging around them.  Bandar snapped out of his reverie and tried to shake Lathander to his senses before blasting the monster with psionic energy.  Gholoth and the Umber Hulk traded blows as Aramek flew into a rage and smashed the beast with mighty chops of his hammer.  But the rest of the group were far less productive – Lathander thought Bandar was an unholy enemy disturbing his prayer and attacked him, but that was happily ineffective.  Bandar returned to his dreamy star-lit walk disturbed by an “Orc,” and tried to impale his enemy, but thankfully missed.  

Gholoth fell back from the fray to heal himself while Aramek went toe to toe with the Umber Hulk, trading blow for blow.  Stacy believed he was in a dungeon, armed only with a dagger, and his jailer was coming.  He attacked his jailer when he appeared…barely missing his own familiar with a stab of his dagger [again, thank goodness]!  Aramek saved the group for the umpteenth time by crushing the life out of it with his massive hammer, which pulled the rest of the group out of their stupor.  They sheepishly thanked the mighty dwarf and apologized to each other – though Stacy couldn’t find his cat anywhere (it wouldn’t return to him for hours).  The Band decided to rest in that room and heal up until the next day.  In the rear of the cavern, they found another large and heavy stash of valuables, including a 3’ copper statue of a dwarven warrior.  They left these piles for later, but Gholoth kept a magical ring he found.  

The night passed uneventfully.  Gholoth and Bandar talked about psionics, including where they had found their powers and what they could do with them.  Bandar was feeling more comfortable with Gholoth already, but certainly not ready to reveal his mark yet.  Though when he mentioned the Brotherhood, Gholoth glowered – he’s pretty clearly not a member, which is good.


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## SolidSnake (Nov 14, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 14, Part 2- Trials and Tribulations (or “I know Kung Fu!”)*

After resting a day the group was ready for another foray deeper into the treacherous temple.  As they prepared, Bandar reminded everyone that they had cleared another quarter of the temple’s circumference, and would now probably face the minions of Tharizdun in the Southern Bridge Complex.  The cavern where the Band had fought the trolls was probably the antechamber to the Complex, judging by the troll with Tharizdun armor that had emerged from the doorway beyond to help his fellow trolls.  Though it seemed like every fight was extremely difficult, the fights against the Tharizdun fanatics at the West entrance and the Northern Bridge Complex had been particularly vicious and the party had barely emerged victorious.  Another daunting battle like the previous ones probably awaited the group.

But there was some cause for celebration.  Divine Pelor had heard Lathander’s humble prayers spoken from within this morass of evil.  The God had welcomed his faithful cleric into the ranks of his elite as a Radiant Servant of Pelor.  The handsome priest was shining at his impressive accomplishment that he had desired for so long.  The others congratulated him, impressed by his aura of confidence and newfound power.  Lathander was even more valuable to the party than before.

Proceeding cautiously, the Band moved forward past the scenes of its hard-won fights against the umber hulks and the trolls.  Stacy crept ahead to the door from which the armored troll had emerged, and silently checked it for traps.  As the party watched on in hushed anticipation, the halfling used his picks to open the door’s lock.  With visible effort, Stacy cracked open the door without eliciting a creak from its hinges.  The glow of a lantern beyond appeared through the ajar doorway.

As the small thief peeked inside, he got the fright of his life.  Only his lightening reflexes, perfected over the years in a demanding and dangerous profession, saved him from being skewered by a gigantic blade that swept through the opening exactly where he had been a split second beforehand.  The door flew from its hinges, revealing a massive troll bedecked in black armor encrusted with Tharizdun’s symbols, silhouetted in the light beyond.  The creature carried a weapon with two ten-foot blades protruding in each direction, a twenty-foot long murderous monstrosity that no normal creature could wield.  So much for surprise…

As Stacy tried to scramble to safety, the troll pounced and did a sweeping cut with its weapon.  Stacy dodged as best he could, but the blade caught him and threw him across the cavern like a rag doll.  The halfling recovered enough to attempt to cast a spell, but his pain ruined his concentration and the magic was lost.  His friends rushed to the rescue – Bandar unleashed a psionic concussion, Aramek slammed the monster with his hammer, and Gholoth dared to engage with just his powerful kicks and punches. 

Lathander trumped them all with a totally new spell: he summoned an angelic being from heaven!  The lantern archon appeared, a globe of holy energy to help the group.  It projected protective magic to good creatures nearby and disrupted evil creatures like the troll.  The monster squinted against the new light nearby and swiped at Aramek, who miraculously remained unscathed from its gigantic chops.

Showing that even the littlest action can make all the difference, Stacy blocked out his pain and completed his Color Spray spell.  The troll stopped its murderous sword sweeps to look at the pretty colors.  The party was amazed and overjoyed at the troll’s vulnerability, and rushed to take advantage of the opportunity.  Bandar unleashed waves of painful mental energy, Aramek repeatedly battered it with his hammer, and even the lantern archon did its share with small burning beams of light that raked the beast’s flesh.  Gholoth was frustrated that even his best kicks and punches were useless against the stunned monster.  Just before the troll came out of its daze, Lathander completed a _Heat Metal_ spell, and started to agitate the enemy’s black armor.

Once the towering troll came to and registered the painful attacks from all sides, it retreated with bounding strides out of sight into the Complex.  The members of the Band grinned at each other and pressed forward into the lit areas beyond.  They were experienced enough to know that they shouldn’t get giddy over winning the first skirmish, and they checked the areas with quick precision as they moved into the unexplored areas.  Led by Stacy (who was moving rapidly thanks to _Expeditious Retreat_), the party passed some umber hulk heads apparently kept as trophies.  Gholoth healed himself with psionic energy and joined Aramek at the head of the main party.  Lathander sent his archon ally ahead to follow the troll, and the floating being discovered the troll in a hallway beyond yelling into rooms for help.  The holy creature fried the troll with its light rays while the monster’s armor continued to burn, leaving the troll screaming in pain.  In the meantime, Lathander cast _Divine Power_ on himself, which literally made him shine with holy light and improved his fighting skills.  It’s good to have a Radiant Servant of Pelor around…

The Band proceeded, checking side areas before moving ahead.  They heard a clamor up ahead as the passage opened into a huge, wide, well-lit hallway extending hundreds of feet.  Aramek peeked down a side corridor and groaned at what he saw – a pair of charging lizards with fangs and teeth barred (velociraptors).  Lathander pulled up the rear, bringing _Divine Favor_ down on the group while his archon cast _Aid_ on Gholoth.  

The raptors collided with Aramek and Gholoth in a flurry of screeches, flying claws, swinging hammers, and mighty kicks.  One beast clawed Aramek in the face, and he responded with a snarl and an angry attack that bowled the creature over.  Gholoth’s fist loosened the other raptor’s razor-sharp teeth while the archon’s rays crackled through the air.  Stacy fired on the monsters while Bandar started agitating their hides with psionics.  Lathander completed _Shield of Faith_ to boost his defense and smiled as he heard the troll with the scalding armor howling in the distance.  Stacy noted with dismay that human warriors were pouring out of doors from the long hallway and converging on the group’s flank.

The Tharizdun soldiers closed in on the party but failed to do much damage, even though the group’s best fighters were facing the raptors on the other side.  Some soldiers fired at the bright archon, a totally useless endeavor given the creature’s magical protections.  Some swiped at Gholoth as he fought the snarling raptors, but the psionic monk was too quick for them.  More soldiers were approaching from rooms farther down the hallway.  Stacy and Bandar attacked the raptors from afar as the beasts ripped away at Gholoth and Aramek.  One lizard bit the tough dwarf on the shoulder.  Aramek angrily grabbed the monster by the neck, and with a crushing blow from his hammer he bashed in its skull in a shower of flying gore.  Without hesitation, he closed in on Gholoth’s raptor and smashed it as well just as Gholoth broke some of its ribs with a strong kick.  Lathander finished off his repertoire of preparatory spells with _Fire Shield_ on himself, and his archon gave him _Aid_ before its time expired and it returned to its plane of existence.

Tharizdun troops poured into the party’s midst, and more were coming.  With enough targets in range now, Bandar let loose a psionically-charged _Stomp_ that failed to knock any of the soldiers off their feet.  Gholoth occupied the last raptor’s attention with several swift attacks before mighty Aramek killed the beast with another skull-shattering swing of his hammer.  

Lathander then surprised the entire group with his next spell.  He used _Searing Light_ on the hallway of troops converging on the group, and Pelor had granted the spell tremendous power.  There was a blinding flash of light and when it was gone there were just piles of ash where more than a dozen soldiers had been!  The Band was left blinking, suddenly free of enemies.  Unfortunately, that freedom lasted only a split second…

Down the raptor hallway a woman in dark robes stepped out of a doorway, followed by a half-orc in brightly-colored robes.  They grimly unleashed powerful attacks on the party, which had already weathered several assaults.  The wizardess sent a powerful fireball that exploded in the center of the group and only Gholoth managed to avoid with a swift jump out of the blast.  When the flames receded, Stacy was an unmoving heap on the ground, with Bandar, Lathander, Aramek groaning with pain.  Aramek’s groans turned to a howl when the half-orc shot energy into the wall nearby, spraying the hardened dwarf with a shower of stone shards that cut him deeply.  Aramek was worse for wear, even with Lathander’s _Shield Other_ spell (cast before the battle) absorbing some of the damage.

Yet the two new spellcasting foes were not all of the Band’s new troubles.  The troll with the searing hot armor reappeared down the hallway, still furious and in pain.  Now he’d brought his boss, though, who made the troll look downright friendly.  Next to the towering troll was a huge ogre with bat-like wings, carrying a two-handed sword, and wearing a red gem necklace.  (The hulking goblin-like spellcaster at the Northern Bridge Complex had a similar necklace).  With a chuckle, the newest and mightiest foe sent a dark wave of power into the battered party’s midst.  This time the group stubbornly resisted its effects, except Bandar, who was left in pain and retching from the corruptive power.  

Despite the thorough pounding he had received in the last few seconds, Bandar ran up to the massive ogre and troll and launched his most impressive psionic attack, a deafening _Cone of Sound_.  The Ogre shrugged off the ear-splitting attack, but the troll was in pain.  Lathander cast _Magic Weapon_ and gave his mace magical power for the coming fight.  Aramek charged the hulking monstrosities towering over Bandar, falling into a rage.  He ducked the troll’s huge blade and suffered a tremendous cut from the Ogre to close the distance and deal both foes some painful blows.  

In the meantime, Gholoth took on both the wizardess and half-orc casters at once.  Tangling with such powerful enemies alone would normally be the end of even an experienced warrior, but Gholoth was a cut above the rest.  He ran straight through a magical barrier the spellcasters had created to protect them, and knocked the wizardess back with a punch.  She reacted by running up the wall away from Gholoth and out of reach, apparently having cast _Spider Climb_ on herself before the battle.  The half-orc seared the psionic monk with magical rays from his eyes, but Gholoth countered the damage with a psionic ability that reduced its effects.  

Normally the wizardess would be removed from combat, perched high on the wall as she was, and free to let loose deadly spells.  Gholoth was not the least concerned, using his psionic powers to run up onto the wall to face her.  He smiled to himself when he saw how perturbed the woman was.  When she released a tremendous lightning bolt directly into the tattooed monk, he reacted instantly.  Gholoth threw himself to the side (against the ceiling) and dodged the bolt utterly.  If he had any hair on his bald head, it would be standing straight up.  The powerful warrior did not change his expression despite his narrow escape from death, but the wizardess had changed her expression – there was a look of sheer terror on her face! [DM notes: This fight was straight out of “The Matrix,” I kid you not…]

Bandar stood next to powerful Aramek and let loose a _Stomp_ that knocked the Troll to the ground but didn’t phase the mighty ogre mage.  Lathander came behind Aramek and cast defensively, healing some of his comrade’s worst wounds (and still suffering from those Aramek had suffered before).  He completed his spell in the knick of time, because both the recovering troll and the huge ogre worked together to chop into Aramek from both sides, leaving him staggering.  Being hit with two ten foot blades by towering creatures would fell even a veteran fighter, but Aramek was made of sterner stuff.  The others are always stunned at how much of a beating the great dwarf can absorb.  Just as Aramek cried out, he heard an answering call from a strangely familiar voice.  He thought his mind was playing tricks on him during what seemed his final moments alive.

Lathander had enough time to turn and see brave Sentien charge onto the scene, wearing banded mail and carrying his sword high.  The sight of the mighty paladin arriving refreshed his sagging spirits in the desperate, losing fight for the Southern Bridge Complex.  Lathander didn’t care why Sentien was there, he just felt overjoyed that their trusted companion had returned in the nick of time, even without new plate armor.  

Aramek had already shown his mettle many times over in this battle, but he yet again proved his worth with another stunning deed.  Covered in his own blood and that of his enemies, groaning from pain due to multiple horrible wounds, Aramek still managed another stunning attack.  During the moment when the Ogre mage was distracted by Sentien’s arrival, Aramek lunged forward at its knees.  The monster stooped low to fend off any crippling attack, unintentionally leaving itself open.  Aramek lost no time in scrambling back and sending his warhammer home directly between the Ogre’s eyes with strength that would have made a giant jealous.  For the third time in a minute, stout Aramek caved in the skull of an opponent, just this time it was the head of the enemy leader!  The large beast collapsed with a shudder, spelling disaster for the troll that remained.

As only Aramek could do, he followed up the deadly blow on the Ogre with a bone-shattering hit on the troll, who was falling back in horror.  It’s armor was finally cooling off, but it was severely weakened and suddenly outmatched.  Lathander closed in with his mace, testing the creature’s defenses and not letting it get away.  

On the other front, Gholoth was also in the midst of heroic deeds.  The half-orc spellcaster had drunk a potion to levitate into the fight between the wizardess and the psionic monk.  The wizardess ran off her wall, onto the ground, and then up on the other wall with her _Spider Climb_, and then unleashed another lightning bolt at Gholoth, around the same time that her companion released bolts of energy as he had done earlier.  Impossibly fast and agile, Gholoth merely dodged both attacks *completely*, shocking both casters and filling them with dread.  They had used up their greatest power without even singeing Gholoth, who had now avoided four powerful offensive spells!  Gholoth coolly accepted his fortune and skill, and advanced undeterred.  He ran off his wall, across the floor, and onto the wizardess’ wall, where he nearly broke all her teeth with a massive punch as she watched on in shock.  The half-orc took stock of the situation, then turned tail and ran!

Meanwhile, Sentien stooped over Stacy and brought the downed adventurer back to consciousness with a _Cure Light Wounds_ spell.  Further down the hallway, the troll tried to avoid Lathander, who was sheathed in magical flame from his earlier spells.  The troll couldn’t connect with the two dwarves, and was hard-pressed as the group focused on it now – Stacy fired with his crossbow, Bandar prepared an attack, and Aramek was doggedly on the monster’s heels.  Behind the troll, a group of eight gnolls charged into view, but they stopped ten feet short of the group for some reason.

In the meantime, the injured and desperate wizardess begged for her life from impassive Gholoth, whom she had tried to kill several times.  As the psionic monk considered his options, Stacy relieved him of the choice.  The halfling saw what was going on and ended the spellcaster’s life with a well-aimed shot to the head.  Her body fell limply to the ground.  Stacy nodded to Gholoth and turned his attention back to the main fight.  The tattooed man shrugged and walked off the wall.

Sentien charged into the fray with the armored troll, who reminded the group that he was still very dangerous by carving into the paladin with his twin-bladed sword.  Sentien grimaced, wishing he had his armor back.  Bandar stepped forward to face the gnolls, bursting a _Cone of Sound_ over the group of monsters.  Despite the well-placed attack that made the air course with waves of potent psionic energy, the gnolls seemed utterly unaffected.  Bandar growled in frustration, having expected that attack to finish the gnolls off.  Yet Bandar’s attack and Aramek’s brutal attacks against the troll convinced the beasts to make a hasty retreat.  Gholoth returned to the group from his little noticed but amazingly successful side battle where he bested two powerful spellcasters without even suffering a scratch.

Now the Band faced just one injured troll, exactly as the battle had begun.  Sentien failed to penetrate the beast’s considerable armor and Stacy missed from afar.  Bandar used some of the last of his mental energy to knock the monster off its feet with _Stomp_ after it hit Aramek yet again.  In his final revenge, Aramek nearly knocked the troll’s head off, snapping its neck.  [Talk about doing most of the damage for the group...]

Gholoth sprinted to the troll’s corpse while Lathander healed struggling Aramek.  As Sentien made sure the beast stayed down with chops from his blade, Lathander lit the monster’s body on fire.  The Band saw a door fly open and the half-orc go scurrying across the wide hallway up ahead with a tome tucked under his arm, but nobody wanted to pursue another enemy.  They watched with satisfaction as they ended the armored troll’s life...then noticed with surprise that the supposedly dead ogre mage was slowly dragging himself away.  His ugly head no longer seemed so caved in – he must have regenerated!  As the Band moved to make sure the ogre stayed dead, it turned to gas and dissipated.  They reacted with groans – why couldn’t it stay dead?  Who wanted to face that thing again?

Regardless, the immediate fight was over, and the group fell back quickly, remarkably intact given the foes they had just overcome.  As they jogged back through the passages to the surface, they asked Sentien why he had returned.

“I came back from my quest for new armor because I couldn’t bear to leave my friends to face the Temple.  Staying here and helping was more important than getting new armor.  It’s good to be back.”

The whole Band agreed that it was great to have Sentien back, especially in the midst of this tough battle.  Stacy was especially grateful, since he would have perished without Sentien’s healing.  Lathander formally introduced Sentien to Stacy and Gholoth, new since he had left.

The group camped outside that night, regaling stories of what had taken place in their momentous fight against the Southern Bridge Complex.  They agreed that what Aramek and Gholoth were incredible and probably saved the party from destruction.  Gholoth had already earned a very respected place in the Band of the Rising Sun.  

They healed and rested, preparing themselves to return yet again; this time to finish off the slaves of Tharizdun in the Southern Bridge Complex.


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## Mishihari Lord (Nov 15, 2002)

*Hi*

I gotta say I was pretty surprised by the dearth of posts here.  I'm only a few posts into the story, but so far this is an outstanding example of a ravenloft campaign.  Please keep posting.


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## SolidSnake (Nov 15, 2002)

Mishihari Lord,

Thanks for your kind words!  I have been out of commission for a while, so I think the people reading this campaign log have faded from view which is why you probably don't see a lot of Out-of-Game content.  However, it is nice to hear some positive feedback!  I hope you enjoy the read and continue to do so.


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## SolidSnake (Nov 17, 2002)

*Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 14, Part 3- Return to the Southern Bridge Complex (or “Fight to Death scene, Take 2…and ACTION!”)*

The night outside the Temple was restless.  The Band of the Rising Sun constantly heard ear-splitting howling from the surrounding hills that disturbed their sleep.  Even so, by the morning they were fully healed and had their spells prepared.  They ventured back in to finish off the Southern Bridge Complex.  

Deep into the Mines the Band crossed the threshold into the Southern Complex, where they had originally faced the armored troll.  Stacy scouted ahead, looking for any signs of movement, while the rest slowly and carefully searched.  The area was eerily, deathly silent.  Listening behind doors and looking down hallways, all the group found was piles of ash of creatures they had incinerated.  The raptor cage was empty except for old droppings and some bits of torn meat.  Stacy moved down one hallway and found an empty armory and a maze of other hallways as of yet unexplored.

The main body of the party happened upon a large, plush bedroom with two doors on each side.  The room was filled with sweet smelling incense, and brightly colored glyphs decorated the walls.  As the Band examined the place, Stacy was some ways beyond, moving down the long, brightly lit hallway.  He found a bridge over water, but that wasn’t what surprised him.  Lying in wait were a group of gnolls, the half-orc spellcaster, and a hulking Giant with a huge club!  Stacy took one look and turned to run, but found himself facing the Ogre Mage, which materialized before him with a grin on his face.  With a yelp, Stacy sprinted away, ending up in the hallway beyond the room where the party was still poking around.  

Gholoth went out the door the party had come into the room and found some gnolls gathering there (the enemies were surrounding the group).  He took off down the hallway and arrived just in time to see a batch of gnolls closing on poor Stacy in the passage beyond.  Hearing Gholoth’s warnings echoing through the walkways, Aramek opened the far door to the bedroom and found a Giant and some growling gnolls beyond.  

A flurry of events quickly followed.  Lathander summoned another Lantern archon to help the group.  The Giant pummeled Aramek with its enormous club, eliciting some strained grunts from the hardy dwarf.  One group of gnolls surrounded Gholoth and Stacy outside and tore into Stacy, but were unable to make a mark on the psionic monk.  Half a dozen other gnolls poured into the Band’s room but didn’t disrupt the group with their opening attacks.  Two gnolls around the Giant fired on Aramek from afar, but his black dragon scale armor fended off their arrows.  Sentien methodically went to work on the gnolls in the room, dispatching one quickly and wounding another, making such attacks look easy.  Bandar was less successful neutralizing gnolls with a _Stomp_, but Stacy did quite well with his magic.  The diminutive halfling tumbled away from the wicked flails the gnolls carried and rapidly let loose his _Color Spray_, which left most of his opponents unconscious, but stunned Gholoth unintentionally.

Aramek, as the party’s front-line fighter, went toe-to-toe with a Giant twenty times his size.  He gave the monster a reason to howl with some wallops from his hammer.  Yet he had new adversity to deal with when the half-orc appeared and fired off a spell, which failed because the dumb Giant was in the way (thank goodness).  As Lathander’s lantern archon arrived it brought magical protections and boosts for the adventurers and restrictions for their opponents within the small confines of the strange room.

Meanwhile, outside in the hallway, Gholoth suddenly returned to the fight with the pain brought about from a gnoll’s swinging flail and saw his helpless, stunned opponents.  With a rapid flurry of kicks and punches he pummeled two of the stunned enemies before him, ignoring the gnoll that had brought him out of is magically-induced reverie.  Aramek dodged the Giant’s terrible club and smashed into its side with his weapon, but didn’t emerge unscathed – the spells the half-orc cast had begun to take their toll on the sturdy dwarf.  While Lathander’s archon killed a gnoll with its magical rays, the priest took a daring chance and cast _Shield Other_ on Aramek.  Now, if either Aramek or Sentien, the group’s frontline warriors, suffered any wounds, Lathander would absorb half the damage!  Very selfless, but very dangerous (Lathander soon had to drop his connection with Sentien because he was suffering too much through his connection with Aramek).  Among the remaining gnolls one ripped into Bandar and another into Gholoth, but Sentien reduced their numbers further with more impressive swordplay.  In the hallway, Stacy did the same with a coup de grace against a stunned opponent.  Continuing to wipe out the gnolls, Bandar knocked another over with _Stomp_.

It was not a good time to be a fanatic gnoll footsoldier.  Sentien continued his steady pace of killing one gnoll every few seconds while Gholoth killed two of the stunned creatures outside, continuing to ignore the ones that could defend themselves.  The archon finished a wounded one off with its rays, and Stacy stabbed a still standing opponent with his dagger.  Whatever footsoldiers were left did nothing to the Band.  Aramek suffered yet another smashing blow from the Giant and didn’t get past its thick hide to return the pain.  The half-orc aimed beyond sturdy Aramek and hit Lathander with its magical missiles.  Bandar responded to the pesky half-orc with a bruising wave of _Concussion_ that sent it a few steps back.

If it weren’t for the Giant and the party being split in half, they were doing quite well so far.  The half orc had felt enough pain (again) and turned tail and ran.  Gholoth killed the last stunned gnoll and kicked another so hard it was reeling.  Aramek snarled and rushed between the Giant’s legs, nearly taking off a kneecap with his mighty hammer swings.  

Just when things looked good, the Ogre Mage appeared in the rear door and immediately unleashed a _Cone of Cold_ on the unsuspecting room, which sent ice shards all over.  The last gnoll in the room died instantly, and the archon was so battered it returned to its plane.  Lathander, Sentien, and Bandar managed to avoid the worst of the effects, but that still left them torn by sharp ice and chilled to the bone.  Lathander yet again thought of others first and cast _Shield of Faith_ on Aramek to continue his fight with the massive Giant.  Yet despite the dwarf’s size, thick armor, and spell defenses, the tremendous monster let out a howl and bashed Aramek another terrifying blow that would have killed another stout hero.  Thanks to Lathander, Aramek didn’t feel the full force of that Olympic swing.  Outside the room, Stacy fell under the vicious assault of one of the remaining gnolls, leaving only Gholoth to face of the rest and to defend his fallen party member.  

But the news turned good again almost immediately.  Sentien shook of the terrible cold and charged the Ogre Mage head on, his sword held high.  Avoiding the monster’s skilled defenses, the paladin cut deeply into the beast with his shining blade bright with power.  Bandar helped return the onslaught with a tremendous release of his mental power, which caught the Ogre off guard and tore through it like a storm.

While outside Gholoth finished off one of two remaining gnolls around him, Aramek roared and blasted into the now weakening Giant.  The dwarven warrior was aided by some powerful healing from Lathander.  The Giant repeated its mighty swings at Aramek, but the dwarf deftly dodged and the hulking monster bashed in the doorway as it missed.  The Ogre Mage was again bested, turned to vapor and disappeared, much to Sentien and Bandar’s disappointment.  Bandar turned his attention on the two gnolls next to the Giant that he could glimpse, and slammed one with a _Concussion_.  Sentien swiped at the air where the Ogre had been as he charged out of the room and around to the hallway where Gholoth was fending off his opponent.  The paladin passed that side battle and approached the Giant from its flank, to help Aramek in his key contest.

Gholoth was tired, fighting with yet another footsoldier after a vicious battle with a large group of gnolls that now lay dead at his feet, next to Stacy’s unconscious form.  He was nearly done and felt close to a break, when suddenly a hulking wolverine charged into view and rushed at the psionic monk.  Only Gholoth’s quick reflexes saved him from the wolverine’s bite.  Aramek, now utterly enraged, had chased the wounded Giant out into the hallway, ripping into it and accepting the brute’s powerful blows.  Lathander followed, healing Aramek, though he had to concentrate through a hefty blow from the Giant and a strike from a nearby gnoll.  After absorbing so much damage on Aramek’s behalf, Lathander was tottering with overwhelming pain.  

Yet the group continued to concentrate on the Giant, sensing that victory was near.  Bandar ignored the gnoll to his side as he too stepped into the hallway and assaulted the Giant with a powerful _Concussion_, weakening it further.  [DM note: I could almost see the words “DIE, DIE!” being chanted inside my PCs heads…]  Sentien carved into it with his shining blade, bringing the beast to one knee.  Gholoth finished off his gnoll opponent with a kick to the head that snapped its neck.  Aramek pulled the tottering Giant’s legs out from under it and bashed in its face with a move now known as the _‘Aramek special.’_

Unfortunately, the battle was far from over.  The wolverine was still tearing into Gholoth, two gnolls were pestering Bandar, and the Ogre Mage was still alive.  Far, far worse, a thunderous roar filled the hallways, and a new opponent rushed into view and would soon be in the fray – another massive hill Giant!  The party’s hopes of surviving the desperate fight intact began to sink – they were already battered, and killing the first Giant had been a feat when they were still fresh to the fight.  Now they were all hurting and not ready to feel the monster’s huge club.  Lathander kept himself conscious with a light healing spell while Sentien stepped in to help Gholoth and chopped into the wolverine.  The gnolls missed Bandar, but required his attention enough so that he felt it necessary to knock one over with _Stomp._

Gholoth summoned the last of his energy and battered the wolverine with his fists and powerful kick.  The wolverine responded by taking the psionic monk down with its raking claws and powerful bite, then it clawed into Sentien for good measure.  Gholoth had bravely protected Stacy against half a dozen gnolls and then a large wolverine, and now fell where Stacy was motionlessly lying.  Aramek put the last two gnolls facing Bandar out of their misery with some idle swings of his mighty hammer.  

Meanwhile, the new Giant entered the fray, bowling into Sentien and nearly knocking him sprawling with a sweep of his tree-sized club.  Sentien recovered as best he could from the Giant’s terrible blow and attempted to finish off the wolverine with a series of expert chops from his blade – the beast was certainly hurting, but stubbornly held on, perhaps sensing that the Giant had turned the tide of the desperate battle.  Bandar closed with the Giant and put to use some of his dwindling mental energy to try and knock the Giant over with _Stomp_, but the angry monster easily avoided the psionic effects.  Though Aramek was battered from facing down one Giant already almost single-handedly, he steeled himself for another similar fight and all the ensuing pain.  Lathander helped by using one of his last spells to heal some of Aramek’s harshest wounds.  The old friends exchanged knowing looks – taking on a fresh Giant when the Band was so worn down did not bode well, but they had no choice.  Lathander was also badly hurt from all the pain he had shared with his comrades through spells, and knew that he may not survive this fight.

The battle had entered its final and most desperate stage.  Aramek charged the huge Giant and somehow avoided its club as he moved in and tore into the creature.  Aramek ducked under another one of the Giant’s attacks, but didn’t avoid the club when it came crashing down on him yet again.  He and Lathander shuddered with shared pain.  The ragged priest used his final spell to heal himself so he could share more blows with Aramek, and wished with all his heart that the amazingly hardy dwarf would somehow finish off the hulking Giant before it killed them all.  In another last ditch effort, Bandar closed in with the Giant and used the final surge of his mental reserves to try and knock it down.  His heart sank when the trembling ground failed to faze the huge creature.

Sentien fended off the wolverine’s snarling maw and raking claws as it tried to finish him off, but he had the last word.  Sentien distracted the wolverine with a grazing blow to its flank, then used that split second window of time to cut through its defenses.  The mighty paladin’s sword tore through the beast’s throat and then plunged deep into its body, ending the vicious monster’s life.  

Aramek moved as close as he could to being between the Giant’s legs to avoid its worst attacks.  The tactic worked as the Giant tried to move and bash the dwarf but Aramek doggedly stayed underneath.  The sturdy fighter had to avoid the Giant’s huge feet nearly crushing him, but still managed to bash the monster’s legs repeatedly so it howled in pain.  Demonstrating what dire straits they were in, Lathander had only a _Cure Minor Wounds_ to use on himself so he could help absorb Aramek’s damage.  Sentien, in one of the smartest moves of the whole battle, laid hands on Gholoth and cured the psionic monk back to consciousness.  Gholoth gave the paladin a look of thanks and stepped away from the fray to cure himself using his strange powers.  

Bandar was desperate to draw the Giant’s attention away from Aramek by presenting himself as a target.  Having no psionic power left, Bandar attacked the huge monster with Tresh’s spear, not really expecting to penetrate the beast’s thick hides.  The spear gave him a tremendous surprise.  As Bandar struck, the weapon drained some of his energy in a rush, then shone with power a split second before it unleashed the energy in an explosion that tore into the Giant.  The psion was pleased at the unexpected power of his new weapon, despite the drain he felt.  What perfect timing to discover a new and powerful attack!

With single-minded intensity, Aramek ripped into the Giant again.  By now the creature had managed to keep the pesky dwarf out from under its bleeding legs, and it bashed Aramek with its club.  Both Aramek and Lathander groaned with pain, both barely holding on.  Lathander didn’t even have minor spells to cast any more, and could only load his crossbow and hope to help in a little way.  He knew that one more shared blow with Aramek would be the end of him.  Sentien gave the group some hope by closing to engage with the Giant.  Despite his grievous wounds, he wasn’t as badly off as Aramek!  Gholoth continued to heal himself with his inner strength, knowing that the battle might rest on his shoulders when Aramek fell.  Bandar continued to try and get the big brute’s attention with his attacks, but failed to hurt it or draw its concentration away.

Aramek took the Giant to one knee by crushing one of its kneecaps with his hammer.  The badly wounded monster still managed to slam Aramek, who had already absorbed countless blows from massive clubs during the battle.  Miraculously, Aramek stayed standing, mostly because Lathander had helped take the blow.  The good priest’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed – it was remarkable that he had lasted so long as is!  Sentien repeatedly slashed at the Giant and Bandar attacked from the other side, but neither could hurt the mighty beast.  Gholoth came flying into the fray with a powerful kick that broke several of the Giant’s ribs and caused it to gasp for breath.  

The last foe’s time was clearly short, and the party sensed it.  They closed in and took risked they normally wouldn’t have dreamed of, getting very close to the terrible club to find any sort of opening that might finish the battle.  Aramek found the opportunity first and sent his hammer into the beast’s windpipe, snapping its powerful neck.  It collapsed with a tremendous thud, leaving the Band gasping from the exertion.  

The Band was in no mood to celebrate.  They knew that even a small group of enemies might finish them off in this state.  Not even stopping to search for any valuables on their fallen foes, they scooped up Lathander and Stacy’s unconscious forms and left the Southern Bridge Complex in a hurry – the second near death battle in the same place!  They had fought with every ounce of physical, magical, and mental strength they had, and had barely squeaked by.  Later they would remember in stunned amazement how Aramek slew not one but _two_ Giants in back-to-back, toe-to-toe contests!  Was there anything this hardy dwarf couldn’t kill?!?

One matter was clear: if the Band had another ‘clean-up’ fight like that, it could very well get wiped out!


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## Cipherphunk (Nov 18, 2002)

As the PC of Gholoth and Sentian, I can personally attest to the rat bastardness of Snake's DM style.

Actually, I'm kinda sad all of us moved to different parts of the country. We had a pretty good troupe together, even though they kept me from getting my homework done on many a Sunday. This is been pretty much my favorite adventure, since we had such great people working on it (and I made some characters I could really get into).

Hopefully we can set up some webcams or something and forge onward. Who knows?


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## SolidSnake (Nov 18, 2002)

Cipherphunk said:
			
		

> *As the PC of Gholoth and Sentian, I can personally attest to the rat bastardness of Snake's DM style.*




Thanks man...I am just rolling in the praise over here


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