# In Hextor's Name (Completed 22 Oct 2004)



## Capellan

This is the obligatory "Out of Character" introduction to the story hour.

This is a new campaign, DM'd by the person who plays the Padre (in Company of the Random Encounter) and Geoffrey (in Seldarn Empire - Copperheads).  The DMs of both those other games (myself and arwink) are players in this one.

Naturally, there had to be a story hour 

There is also now a Rogues Gallery.

Unlike the games where we DM, we are going to write this story hour from the (limited and very, very biased) points of view of our characters.  These are:

*Kull Redfist*
LN Half-Orc Cleric of Hextor
Life's ambition:  to become a mighty warrior and crush Hextor's enemies

*Zalich Wavewalker*
CG Halfling Transmuter
Life's ambition:  to own his own trading ship

As you might imagine, their opinions on events are likely to be rather at odds!  They do, however, share a great love of tea, so there is _some_ common ground.

We may also be privileged with visits from *Brodnak*, our monosyllabic Barbarian.

*Update:* arwink has become too busy to continue updates.  Zalich's contribution to the Story Hour was to be replaced by the journals of *Gnorric*, a wizard of rather "unusual" persuasions, but his player also became very busy, and hasn't been able to update in some time.  This means that Kull's version of events now goes undisputed.  Which is how he prefers it, in all likelihood 


*Adventures Used in the Campaign*
An Icy Grave  ('net freebie adventure)
Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh (U1 - 1st Edition module)
Danger at Dunwater (U2 - 1st Edition module)
Clarshh's Sepulchre (_Dungeon_ #53 - 2nd Edition)
The Final Enemy (U3 - 1st Edition module)
Knight of Newts (OD&D module)
Quest for the Silver Sword (OD&D module)
The Setting Sun (_Dungeon_ #53 - 2nd Edition)
Assault on Raven's Ruin (OD&D module)
Quoitine Quest (_Dungeon_ #53 - 2nd Edition)
Baltron's Beacon (I7 - 1st Edition module)
Various stuff the DM came up with for himself


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## Capellan

*Kull's Report, Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Midwinter

To:  Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

I have arrived in the village of Saltmarsh.  This was not my intended destination, nor did my means of getting here match my expectations.  However, the events that have befallen me are such that I cannot but think it is Hextor's Will that I raise His standard here.

As instructed by the Church, I took passage on the ship Nightingale, bound for the Woolly Coast.  The ship seemed well-managed, though the captain had hired a navigator of uncommon youth.  This was to prove an unwise choice, in the heavy seas that followed.

We were beset with bad weather throughout the voyage, and I saw little of my fellow passengers, many of whom were so sickened by the weather as to be bedridden.

The ship foundered on rocks on the fourth night of our cruise.  Fortunately, the collision was severe enough that we were all awakened.  It was obvious to me that she ship was stricken, and I took charge of the other passengers, ensuring that they were ready at the lifeboat when the Captain ordered the ship evacuated.

Casting off into heavy seas, we rowed for a rocky island that had been spotted nearby.  Unfortunately, the Captain's life boat was swamped, and lost with all hands, but Hextor lent me His strength, and I was able to provide leadership to our own rowers.  We thus reached shore safely.

The storm had become icy as we rowed, and wind and snow alike buffeted us as we dragged the boat high on the beach.  Discovering a path, I led our motley crew further into the island, reasoning that a travelled path might lead to shelter.

Hextor had led me truly in this matter, for we came in time to a monastery, carved into a cliff at the heart of the island.  Already some of the weaker members of the group were foundering, and thus I marched up and threw open the doors, leading the way inside.

Barely had we closed the doors behind us when a magical darkness blanketed the room.  As those around me panicked, I used what I had seen of the room to reach a wall and follow it outside of the darkness.  Once there, I called out to the others, leading them to safety with the sound of my voice.

Two of my companions did not emerge, while a third was bloodied: it seemed a tentacled creature had attacked him in the darkness.  He seemed a strong warrior, so I called on Hextor to heal him while I took stock of our position.

We found ourselves in the chapel of the monastery.  The room was plain, but for six statutes set into alcoves, each with an offering bowl before them.  Their number included the weakling Heironeous, but also our mighty lord, the Six Armed King, in all His power and glory.

Seeing this, and knowing from the earlier attack that this place had been despoiled, I realised why Hextor had sent the storms to drive the Nightingale onto the rocks.  It was His Will that I undertake the task of cleansing this place of the creatures that fouled it.

As I placed an offering in His bowl, and dedicated myself to the task, I found myself wishing for the company of my brothers in arms.  Those who were with me offered little hope of aid.

True, the warrior I had healed - one Brodnak - seemed strong and competent, but he was the only one of whom this was true.  The others were a nature-worshipping mongrel, with a bedraggled wolf at his side, two women - one of whom eyed my offering with ill-concealed greed, and a halfling cook.

But as Hextor teaches us, a strong leader can make a mighty army of even the weakest troops.  If it was His Will that they serve Him, then serve Him they would; or die in the attempt.


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## Horacio

Hmmm, it sound interesting....

I want more


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## (contact)

Capellan said:
			
		

> *It was obvious to me that she ship was stricken, and I took charge of the other passengers, ensuring that they were ready at the lifeboat when the Captain ordered the ship evacuated.
> *




"Took charge" being a euphamism for _what_ in Hextor's church?  Threatened them with death?  Beat them until they obeyed?

I like the perspective of the individual characters here.  His personality seems strong enough to make it work.


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## Brodnak

ruurgh!


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## Dungannon

This is gonna be an interesting thread to follow.  Can't wait for the halfling's pov.


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## arwink

_*Zalich's Log, Entry One*_

Well, the old log is gone, at the bottom of the sea with the Nightingale along with half my good spices.  Thankfully, managed to keep the tea-pot and a good measure of rations when the ship went down.  Seems unfair somehow.  I picked this journal up in Saltmarsh.  Well, perhaps created is a better term.  It's not much more than a few stray sheets of parchment sewn together with fishing twine and stuck in the back of my spellbook, but it'll do for the moment.  Haven't had enough time to find a proper book here yet.  I'll consider myself lucky if they even have a book binder.  What possesses people to live in the midst of a swamp like this?

Ah well, given it's a fresh start, perhaps it's better if a start at the beginning.  

I had a bad feeling about the Nightingale, and I shouldn't have ignored it.  It's the same feeling I got when I signed on to the Darkwave, and Yondolla knows how well that turned out for me.  Of course, because of the Darkwave I found my way to the Silver Arrow, so perhaps the tragedy of the Nightingale will lead to better things in the future as well.

We were doing a cargo run up the Wooly Coast, although we seem to have taken aboard some passengers as well.  The crew was pleasant enough, but nothing like the comradery of the Silver Arrow.  A few of them seemed a bit to young and inexperienced, but I suppose everyone starts off like that sooner or later.  I shudder to think of what my old shipmates thought of me when Meldach took me on as an apprentice.  

The passengers seemed like the worst part of the trip.  The captian wanted to make a good impression it seems, so he asked for a special dinner in his quarters.  I spent hours slaving over the stove for it, but it seems something of a waste given those who assembled to eat it.  Two half-orcs (on a hextorite!), some uncouth barbarian from the wild lands and a scattering of adventuring layabouts.  They seemed to expect more than can be done with a ships provisions, although the Hextorite did compliment me on my tea.  Was that then, or did it happen later?  I can no longer remember.  It seems so long ago.

The storm hit a day or two from port.  One of the undercooks told me it was uncommon for a storm so bad to brew during winter, but it happens every five or six years.  Just our ill-luck to be at sea when it happened.  A lot of the travellers didn't fare so well in the rough seas, and even I and a few of the less experienced crew were afflicted during the worst of the rough waters.  If nothing else, it made my job a lot easier.  Nothing like cooking for half a crew and getting paid for a full crews work.  

We hit rocks on the fourth night.  I remembered the sound from the time Captain Larethian drove a pirate frigate into a reef, so I new what to expect.  I packed as much as I could into my small pack, and made for the deck.  Most of the crew and passengers were already there, and Captain Millen was already ordering all non-essential personal into a lifeboat.  Thankfully, we were already close to land, although we weren't sure what kingdom exactly the land belonged to.

Naturally, the lifeboats sized for humans, so we had to rely on the land-walkers to row it.  They were effective enough, but no-where near as fast a well-trained crew.  It's frustrating to watch amatuers do what should be your job, but what else could I do?

Luck and Yondalla's blessing got us to shore.  It was cold and icy on the beach, and the others at least had presence of mind to pull the ship up on the beach.  It took a few minutes before the captain finally abandoned ship, and we watched the remainder of the crew try and row out in the secondary lifeboat.

If I thought it was lucky the passengers rowing got us to shore, it's nothing like the relief I felt when I saw the captains lifeboat go down.  A dozen good sailors on that boat, good shipmen all, and they were overturned and lost of the rocks.  

Of course, I was hardly in the most savory of company.  We had Simmons, the Nightingales 1st mate, who tillered us to shore, and the navigator.  I'd never known the lad well in my time on the ship, but he looked bad.

The passengers were the only other survivors.  I still seem to be with them now, here in Saltmarsh, so perhaps it's worth mentioning them.  Not the most cohesive group, I'll admit, and most of them seemed content to ignore me for the greater part of our journey.  Yet for all that, they got me off the Isle we were trapped on and I have little better to do until I find a safe way out of Saltmarsh.

Kull, the half-orc Hextorite, pays attention to me only when he wants food or a cup of tea.  For all his bluster and grim rationalism, he does appreciate a good cup, and for that I'm almost thankful to have him along.  

Troylin was a slender female who looked a little, well, shifty.  She proved to be particularly agile and stealthy in the events that followed, but I don't trust those traits in anyone who'se not a halfling.  Of course, there was a streak of foolishness in her as well.  One of the crew told me she'd tried to climb the rigging in the midst of the storm.  Hardly the sanest choice I've ever heard.

Brodnic was some savage from a mountain top, carting around a giant club and an axe. I think "Raargh" is the most adept thing he's said in my presence.

There's another female, a swordswoman, named Julian or Jillian.  I can never keep it straight.  She's quiet, much of the time, but she comes alive at the prospect of a fight.

Finally, there's the other half-orc.  I try not to get to close to him.  He's got a grim demeanor, and that wolf of his is large enough to take off my hand if it gets peckish.  He's a druid, apparently, but that seems suspicious.  Who ever heard of an orcish worshipper of nature?

We're stuck on an unknown coast, with little supplies, no ship and a bunch of unknown strangers to rely upon for our survival.  Troylin spotted a path as we seccured the boat.  With few other options, following it seemed the logical choice.  If nothing else, it seemed to lead inland somewhere, so there may have been a chance to get out of the wind and cold.

The cold was bad, truly bad.  Almost as chilling as the time I was left ont he ice-flow, but that's neither here nor there.  It took a lot out of us as we walked.  Our navigator was badly afflicted with frostbite by the time we found shelter, and most of the others were just as bad.  Not for the first time, I cursed the halfling preference for bare feet, as my toes were numb and without feeling.

Shelter, when it came, was in the form of an old monestry of some kind.  Abandoned, by the look of it.  We forced open the door and walked inside, glad to find a way out of the wind.  

Of course, there's no luck if it's not bad luck.  Things went pitch black the moment we got inside.  So inky even the half-orcs were blind.  It was obviously magical, or some kind of beast.  I grabbed my crossbow from my kit and loaded up, ready to fire if I heard something, but any chance of hearing our attacker was immediately drowned out by half-orcs and warriors running for doorways in clanking armor and rattling blades.  In the end, there was little other option than to follow them.  

Of course, when we got beyond the darkness effect, not everyone was safe.  Both Simmons and the navigator were collapsed on the floor, unconscious and exhaused, in the darkness effect, and Brodnic was letting out strangled gasps as he struggled with something high up in the darkness.  I offered to cast _spider climb_ on one of the warriors if they wanted to go in and help him fight the strange attacker, but none were inclined to help.  It's a testament to his luck and rage that Brodnic managed to struggle his way free and find his way to us from the darkness.

Of course, this meant that Simmons and the navigator were still in there with whatever was there.  Brodnic had some nasty-looking bites on his shoulders that were rapidly healed by Kull, but no-one seemed concerned about the two crewmembers.  Even when we heard the sound of crunching, as thoughs something was eating a body, they weren't willing to go back into the darkness to save them.  I contemplated going in alone, but prior experience has taught me to avoid hand to hand combat with unknown quantities, and my spells for the day were optimised for a kitchen rather than a battlefield.  

While everyone else looked around the small room, apparently some kind of chappel to many lawful gods, I tried picking a good place to fire a bolt in the hopes I could distract or wound the beast, but it was too quiet, too stealthy.  Unless I could convince the others to go in, it seems that simmons and the navigator were dead.  Unfortunately, they were immune to please of compassion or mercy, and even logic failed them.  How they though we were going to get back to civilisation without a navigator was beyond me, but such is the logic of land-walkers.  They don't understand the necessity of sea travel.

Hmm.  It's late now, and Kull seems to be wandering our lodgings in search of a cup of tea.  I could let him make it himself, but he's not quite as skilled at the art of measureing and brewing as I am. Will write more later, after I've conserved our supplies as best I can in light of two half-orcish appatites.


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## Horacio

Two versions of the same tale, that's COOL!

More, more


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## arwink

Three versions.  You forget that Brodnak's already dropped in to offer his version of events.  It's short, yes, but the depth and meaning are in the intonation


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## Horacio

arwink said:
			
		

> *Three versions.  You forget that Brodnak's already dropped in to offer his version of events.  It's short, yes, but the depth and meaning are in the intonation  *




hmm, true, three versions... 

I love this kind of shared story, Peter.


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## Brodnak

Tea good, dark bad. Rarrgh.


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## Capellan

*Kull's Report, Part 2*

I led the others in exploring the remainder of the ground floor level of the monastery.  My search soon found the kitchen, as well as the dining hall.  There were skeletal remains of monks in both rooms.  Those in the kitchen were inert, but those in the dining hall animated as we entered, and moved forward to attack.

As the first of the creatures clawed at the warrior, Brodnak, I invoked Hextor's Will.  He was generous, allowing His power to flow through me, and the skeletons cowered in fear.  With the undead held paralysed by Hextor's might, my cohorts proved capable of destroying them in short order.

I had just begun directing the others in smashing up the furniture in the hall for firewood, when a strange, tentacled creature floated through an archway to attack us.  Unfortunately, it appeared right next to Brodnak, who cut it in half before I was able to personally test its mettle.

Examining the creature's remains, Brodnak proclaimed it to be the creature that had attacked him in the darkness.  I decided that the best course of action would be to wait to see if the darkness cleared, then search for the bodies of the two men who had not emerged.  However, as this would take time, I determined that the first thing to be done was to build a fire.  Not only would this provide physical warmth, but it might also shore up the spirits of some of my more callow companions, who were obviously disheartened by what had befallen us.

The others saw the wisdom of this course, and - with the encouragement of a flask of oil - a fire was soon going in the kitchen.  As the room warmed up, I began to get a clearer idea of who my companions were, and which of them could be relied upon.

Of them all, only Brodnak had proven his worth so far, but to my surprise the halfling, Zalich, also proved level-headed.  He made use of the fire we had started to prepare food and drink.  Few people understand the three keystones of morale: keep your people warm, fed and dry.  Perhaps he served on a military vessel at some point.

Of the others, the weakest link was quite evidently the woman who called herself Troilan.  Her attitude and remarks made it clear that she would not take instructions well.

As soon as the darkness ended, I led the others back to the front hall.  I quickly found the two people who had not emerged when the creature attacked.  One was dead: partially consumed.  The second - the ship's young navigator - was alive, but unconscious and suffering from frostbite.

Returning to the kitchen with the injured navigator, I placed him near the fire. The self-styled "druid" set his wolf to watch over the boy.

Reasoning that the cellars of the monastery would be less extensive than the upper floors, I led the group down into the lowest level of the complex.  This proved an excellent decision - no doubt Hextor had guided my choice - for the cellars comprised not only a large storeroom, containing many useful items, but also an immense furnace, obviously intended to warm the entire monastery.

Fortunately, though the furnace had long gone cold, there was a vast supply of coal at hand.  Starting with only the smallest of fires, I directed the others in gradually building up the flames, until the furnace was functioning at full strength.

Returning to the kitchen, I was much pleased with the providence we had enjoyed.  Obviously Hextor must be guiding my steps, for I had immediately found the very supplies that were needed most.  There could be no clearer indication that He had brought me to this place in order to cleanse it of the curse that befouled His House.


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## Horacio

Wonderful update. I love the way you show the cleric's mind set.


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## Mathew_Freeman

Excellent stuff! I am in full agreement with Horacio on this one...it's great!


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## arwink

_*Zalich's Log, Entry Two*_

Half-orcs.  Bane of my existence, but they're handy to have around.  

So, the ruins.  They were cold.  Far to cold.  There were times that I feared my feet were going to freeze to the floor, and a few times I even contemplated adopting the tall-folks habit of shoes in the hopes of getting warm.

What galled me, beyond anything else in this place, was being trapped without a decent spell.  My entire selection for the day was set up for time in the kitchen and the possibility of a pirate attack.  I would have killed for a quick warming cantrip at this point, but it was not to be.  Cold haunted me for the majority of the day.

We left behind the crewman and explored the ground floor.  I had little to do with it, all in all.  Yondolla take me if I was going to help a group of barbarians callous enough to let people die, especially when they were our ticket away.  Worse, their ability to get along was negligable at best.  Kull seemed intent on ordering everyone around, Triolan seemed intent of defying him for little or no reason.  If Brodnak acted with any kind of logic, it was lost on me.  Some people just never learned the neceissity of working as a team.  Sometimes I think prior experience on ships would do the adventuring community good.  Anything to teach them the advantages of working together, and not leaving someone behind.

On the upside, they found a kitchen in their marauding.  Took a while to get some firewood.  I'm not sure where they got it from, I think perhaps they destroyed some furniture in the dining room they discovered, but soon we had a small blaze going and more than enough warmth to ward off the chill for a few hours.  Slightly better news was an attack by the strange creature that had plunged the entry hall into darkness and attack Brodnak.  Forced into confrontation, they slew the creature and, finally, rescued our young navigator.  He was in bad shape, badly frostbitten and close to death, so we lay him by the fire and started to warm him up.

I couldn't help myself then.  Much as I disliked their attitude, the cold was worse and we needed something to fight against it.  I brewed a quick pot of tea as soon as the fire was alight, and cooked a quick meal.  Nothing special, just some spiced porridge with a few bits of bacon I'd snagged from the ship before it sank.  Most of the survivors had been ill with sea sickness for most of the journey, so they tucked in gladly to their first meal on dry land.  They weren't at all impressed by my skills with magic, I know, but they enjoyed that meal more than any other dinner I'd cooked on the journey thus far.  

Eventually, we explored more.  The fire was getting low, so the druids wolf was left to watch over the navigator.  I didn't really trust the wolf not to maul the youngster, but there were few other options.  If they ran intro trouble in the cellars they were exploring, they'd need my help, and we were running out of fuel for the fire far to fast to leave exploring for too much longer.  I quickly pulled Tree-tooth, my club, from its place by my pack and followed along after the _brave exploreres._ 

Isn't there a saying about the gods looking out for fools and adventurers both?  Seems to work, because the only things in the catacombs below the ruins were supplies and the old furnace, complete with supplies of coal.  We wasted no time in loading the ancient mechanism up, and I lit it with a cantrip.  Within moments, the pleasure of warm floors and a night without shivering were within our grasp.  

Of course, the Gods have a sense of humor and nothing is ever that easy.  For all the years of good fortunte I've had in my life, I sometimes wonder why I can be cursed with nights like that one when luck turns sour so suddenly.  Just once, I'd like to go down on a peaceful land where the locals are pleased to just help a stranger.


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## Lela

Make that three in one day.

The forshadowing in this is great arwick.  

Capellan, I love the perspective of a Hextorian cleric.  I do hope we go a little deeper into the religion.  I've always wondered.


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## Horacio

Arwink, Capellan, once again I love your shared story hour!!!


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## Mathew_Freeman

What Horacio said, only with more exclamation marks


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## Horacio

Tallarn said:
			
		

> *What Horacio said, only with more exclamation marks  *




I see Tallarn's marks and raise four exclamation marks and two smileis!


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## djrdjmsqrd

*OOC: RG?*

Cap,
Any chance we can get a RG going for the PCs/NPCs of this fine SH?

Djordje


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## Capellan

*Re: OOC: RG?*



			
				djrdjmsqrd said:
			
		

> *Cap,
> Any chance we can get a RG going for the PCs/NPCs of this fine SH?*





I think we can arrange that.  You'll find it here.

There's only Kull (at 1st level) there at the moment.  But he comes complete with background, for your reading pleasure.  I'll add the others soon.  Well, except for Zalich and the Druid.  I don't have their stats.


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## arwink

I'll post Zalich tomorrow.  He hit second level after the last game, but i haven't done the paperwork for him


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## Horacio

Good, Rogues' Gallery for my favorite shared story hour!!!


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## Valmur_Dwur

Came here from the rogue Gallery  Since I'm such a Greyhawker I had to use this as my 1st Story Hour!  I'm enjoying it very much.  Like that the Hextorite is being played true to character   VERY GOOD and set in Saltmarsh to boot!


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## Lela

Valmur_Dwur said:
			
		

> *Came here from the rogue Gallery  Since I'm such a Greyhawker I had to use this as my 1st Story Hour! *




Welcome to the forum.  Look around, find what you like.  Stay a while.  It's worth it.


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## Capellan

*Kull's First Report - Part 3*

It did not take long after lighting the furnace for there to be a noticeable increase in the temperature, and for a similarly noticeable increase in the morale of the others.  As Hextor teaches us: keep the people warm and free of hunger, and they will want for no other freedoms.

Newly emboldened by their physical comfort, the others made no protest when I led them on an exploration of the upper storey of the monastery.  At first, we found only empty rooms, but the fourth chamber held a number of skeletal remains.  Brodnak stepped forward, raising his axe to destroy them, and the bones animated, raising themselves up to attack.

I petitioned Hextor for aid, but He desired that we should win the battle by force of arms.  Unfortunately, as the others then rushed in ahead of me, I was not able to reach the fighting before Brodnak had destroyed all three of the undead.  Nor was I the only one who could not reach the battle.  It was clear to me from this encounter that my companions needed a firm hand to instil order, or we would not be able to function with tactical efficiency.

One of the females then discovered a flight of stairs, leading up to another floor, but the group accepted my decision that it would be more tactically sound to secure the rest of this level before continuing up.

Indeed, in the very next room we entered, the wisdom of this course was clearly shown: two zombies lurched out of the darkness to attack.  I stepped forward and called upon Hextor, but obviously my failure to reach the previous battle had displeased Him, for He did not answer.  Determined not to fail him again, I led the way into the melee, and swiftly struck one of the walking corpses.  The creature's flesh was still frozen solid - the cold was the only thing that had preserved it, no doubt - but my blow crushed its skull no less readily for that.

Unfortunately, Troilan was the next into the room, and as she struck ineffectually with her weapon, the second zombie lurched past her and gouged me so deeply that I was wounded close to death.  Fortunately, I had earlier called on Hextor to heal Brodnak's wounds, for despite his rashness the barbarian was a fine warrior, and I knew we would need his axe again.  This foresight now saved my life, as he leapt forward to strike down the zombie, though it wounded him again in the process.

As the severity of injury made it impossible for me to move swiftly without reopening the wound, I was not able to continue the exploration of the building myself, but I attempted to exhort the others to go on without me.  However, as I bound my injury - none of the others had even simple training in the art of bandaging a wound! - the others proved to have lost their nerve, and instead suggested that we return to the kitchen to rest and heal, before continuing our exploration.

I must study the texts of the great Generals of our faith.  Evidently there is more I need to learn about instilling courage in my followers.  I ask that you despatch these tomes to me, in care of the inn of Saltmarsh.  I have enclosed funds to cover this matter.

We had not long returned to the kitchen when we heard a loud _crash_ as the front doors of the monastery flew open.  The others moved with commendable speed to investigate.  Probably they were just thinking of the chance of rescue.  As it was, their rapid response, left me far behind, due to my injury.

As I made my way to the front hall, however, I could here one of them - Zalich, I think - challenge the new arrivals.  The replies came indistinct, but there was something about their tone that made me sure they meant us ill.

This hunch was proved correct, for before I could reach the chamber, I heard the clash of weapons.  What a cruel fate for a soldier of Hextor to be unable to respond to that call!

By the time I reached the room, the fight was all but over.  Two fur-garbed savages were being rapidly overwhelmed by the sheer weight of numbers ranged against them.  Both fell quickly after my arrival, and their bodies were rapidly set upon and looted.  There was some conjecture about their diet, on such a cold and rocky island, but the filed down teeth of the dead men left me in no doubt as to their intended menu.

Only slightly injuries had been suffered in the fight, and I supervised the binding of their wounds, instructing the others in the best procedures.  With that done, and the bodies of the cannibals dragged out into the still-raging storm, I led the others back to the kitchen, where Zalich theorised that we might had just slain the men who had murdered the monks.

It was a logical theory.  But it proved to be incorrect.


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## Horacio

A wonderful way to narrate two non very glorious battle for your character 

I love this story, guys, I really love it.


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## Talix

Just got here, and I agree this is a great story.  Having two very different perspectives on the same set of events is really nice.

Thanks for sharing!


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## Lela

These little bits of Hextor's philosophy call out to me.  I love it.


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## Valmur_Dwur

the Hextorite deserves a reward or award or something


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## Brodnak

Hit bones, rarrgh!!


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## Horacio

I want more story, Capellan, Awrink... I want MORE!!!


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## Lela

I think I'm going with what Horacio said far too often lately.  I could loose my sense of self or something.



			
				Horacio said:
			
		

> *I want more story, Capellan, Awrink... I want MORE!!! *




Oh, uh, what he said.

[EDIT: Dangit!]


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## arwink

_*Zalich's Log, Entry Three*_

Warmth.  Most people forget the simple luxury of warmth until it's taken from them.  It's a foolish thing to do, something I've rarely forgotten since the incident with the ice-flow and the silver arrow.  Once we got the furnace started, I could feel my toes for the first time in hours - a luxury I reveled in, let me tell you.

Let me tell you something about adventurers though - they're never content to leave something alone.  If there's a lever to be pulled or a ruin to poke around in, they're none to keen to wait a while before they run riot trying to stick thier noses into trouble.  

We were warm, we had wounded, and to be honest there little magic I'd memorized for the day that could be useful to our situation, so I was more than happy to barricade myself in the kitchen until dawn, at the least, or the storm was over, at the latest.  In the morning, there was a far greater selection of useful spells I'd recorded for just this sort of situtation, including several cantrips for drying our fire-wood and keeping us warm.  Unfortunately, every other concscious and hearty survivor was part of this adventuring plague and decided to explore the upper levels.

Why I tailed along for this is beyond me.  There were walking dead up there, in small numbers, but the rag-tag group of survivors had no real knowledge of tactics.  No sooner had they opened the door to a room and spotted and walking skeleton than they charged forward, virtually bursting through the doorframes in an effort to swing their swords through skeletal ribs.  It happened again and again, door after door, until both Brodnak and Kull numbered among our seriously wounded, and several of the others bore gashes and bruises.  With my small size, I knew there was little point trying to join in the rush, and what spells I have are designed to be fired from ship to ship - without the interferance of a dozen bodies between me and my target.

Tactically sound, these stranger are.  I shudder to think what may happen should we run into a pack of ravenous kobolds.  I find myself wishing for the well-trained crew of the Silver Arrow again and again as the day wore on.

Back to the kitchen it was, then.  We set up a rudimentry camp and I cooked another meal (thank the gods that at least I had the foresite to grab a meal or twelve before fleeing the ship).

The folly of exploring the upper levels was revealed fairly quickly.  After nightfall, there was the sound of something hammering at the front doors.

Those of us who were unwounded went to investigate, concerned that anything would be out in the snow-storm that raged outside.  I crept along the hallway with the druid, while the two female warriors circled around through the statue room.

By the time we'd reached the entry-hall, the creatures had already broken through.  They looked like men - albeit northlander barbarians - but their skin was deathly pale and they were seemingly unconcerned by the piles of snow and frost that clung to them.  I called out a greeting, hoping against hope they might give us some clue of our location or at least avoid combat.  No such luck.  They mumbled something in a foreign tongue and lurched forward, weapons at the ready.

That was all I needed.  I fired off a quick spell I'd been taught, draining the strength of one of the creatures.  Initially I'd been taught it to disable the strongest line-men during a bording, but it worked just as well here.  The creature roared, then my companions fell upon them.  It was a furious battle, far worse than anything we'd engaged in on the upper levels, but the open space of the entry hall made things infinately easier.  Troylin proved a very, very able fighter should her oppenent be even slightly distracted, and the ability to flank our enemies proved a sound enough tactic that you'd think the others would get the message and remember it for later combat.  I'm not known for my skill with club, although I've had some training, but even I struck a magnificent blow that killed the beast my magic had weakened.  Everything flew by in a manner of seconds, and by the end both the frost-men were dead and we had sustained only a few wounds.  Kull hobbled into the room in the wake of the fight, seemingly unhappy that he missed the melee, but he seemed strangely impressed by our victory.  He's an odd one, that cleric.  Grim and unbending, but without the unrelenting cruelty and desire for personal glory I associate with most of his church.

A quick examination of their bodies provided little treasure (Both Troilan and Jillian were searching the bodies before they'd even struck the floor), but it did reveal sharp teeth on our attackers.  Sharp, obviously filed teeth.  I'd read about such things before, usually in tribes of cannibals, and reported it to the others.  A grim mood fell over everyone at the thought, although either Brodnack or one of the half-orcs made an ill-timed comment about joining their preference should I food not hold out.  

I was green at the thought, and seriously considered incapacitating the guilty party while they slept for the greater good of the group, but it's probably just as well given what happened next.  Gods, there are some dangerous things in this world, and for some reason they always show up just when you're trying to sleep...


----------



## Lela

Thanks arwink.

I love this perspective thing.  I think I'll send it to one of my players (the one who actually reads what I recomend).  I hope he'll love it just as much as I do.


----------



## Horacio

Great, as usual. I love seeing the two sides of the story


----------



## Capellan

First, the bad news: that silly lad arwink managed to fall over and dislocate his arm, which led to him missing the second session of the game (not that we've finished the SH for the first session yet, mind you).  So at some point, we're going to have to rely on just Kull's* perspective on what occurred (unless one of the other players does a guest spot, anyway).

Now, the good news: an update! 



* I'm sure Brodnak will chim in, but his updates tend to be rather ... concise ...


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report, Part 4*

The creature came in the middle of the night.

It made no attempt to conceal its approach, and those on guard were quick to waken myself and the others.  Already weakened by our earlier battles, and with no knowledge of what approached, I knew we were ill-equipped to face another foe.  But when Hextor wills battle, it is foolish to try and deny Him.

Brodnak and the more reliable of the human females took the front line of defence at one door, while I directed the others in blocking the second.  Weapons and spells at the ready, we waited: but not for long.

The creature burst in through the door guarded by the two warriors, bringing with it a wave of frigid air.  Man-tall, but gaunt, it was dressed only in frost-rimed rags.  It's flesh was pallid, tinged with blue, and I knew immediately that we faced an undead creature far more powerful than the mere skeletons and zombies we had encountered thus far.

Both warriors struck, their blades drawing sprays of ice crystals, but the creature ignored them both, lurching past them and down the stairs: toward the furnace.

Zalich was the first to react, scrambling after it.  I called to him to use his magic to invoke fire, but he chose instead to cast a feeble beam of energy, which the creature barely seemed to feel.  It felt Troilan's contribution to the fight even less, as her blade did not even get within a foot of it.

Pausing only long enough to backhand Troilan; a blow that immediately crumpled the woman to the floor; the creature lurched onward.  Knowing that I was the only one with the skills to stabilise the young fool, I moved to her side, while instructing the others to pursue the creature.

They quickly disappeared beyond the corner, the sounds of combat clearly reaching me as I bound Troilan's injury.  The wound was as troublesome as the woman herself, and by the time I was done, the sounds had already lessened, moving further away.  I hurried on as best I could, knowing from the injuries it had already inflicted that the creature would soon fell more of the others.

Even as I reached the store room, however, I saw the warm glow of the furnace suddenly snuffed out, plunging the chamber into darkness.  Thanks to my heritage, this made no difference to me, but I knew that the others would be even more helpless, now.

Suddenly the creature burst back into the room.  I readied myself to face it as it strode forward, but then I heard Zalich call out for aid.  I was tempted to ignore the halfling, but as Hextor teaches us: the Only Honour is in Victory.  To face the creature alone, in my wounded state, would surely mean my death.  And thus instead I stood aside and let it past, then made my way to the furnace room.

There lay Brodnak and the self-styled 'Druid', both in pools of their own spreading blood.  Judging the nature-worshipper to be closer to death, I attended him first.  As well for him I did.  Had I not, he would have learned first hand in the afterlife the folly of his misguided beliefs.

Once I had also bound the wounds of Brodnak, I instructed the others to assist me in restarting the furnace.  At first they hesitated, protesting that to do so might draw the creature back, but they accepted the wisdom of my instructions when I reminded them out that without the warmth, we would surely not survive the night.

It took time to clear the now frozen coal, and slowly build up the fire again, but the exertion helped keep out the chill, at least.

Having already had some rest, and with injured at hand, I bade the women sleep, and stood watch for the rest of the night.  Even now, I give thanks to Hextor that the creature did not return at that time.  Our deaths would have been assured.

At last, I knew the time had come when I could once more prayer to our Lord for his divine grace.  He knew my need, and granted me every ounce of healing that I requested.  Through His Will, I was able to restore both Brodnak and the druid to good health, and alleviate the wounds suffered by myself.

Despite his ridiculous faith, the druid's healing arts soon proved useful, as he revived Troilan, and tended the injuries suffered by the others.  With all six of our number once more on their feet, and the navigator also much recovered, there seemed to be some who though the worst was past.

This, of course, was foolishness.  The enemy had withdrawn, but was far from defeated: in fact, if anything, he had been victorious.  I reminded the group of this, and that it is Hextor's Will that only the strong and the disciplined will prevail.

When night fell, we could be sure the creature would return, and we could be equally sure that we would either be prepared for it, or we would fall.


----------



## Lela

So thought provoking. . .


----------



## Horacio

I love the faithful Hextor's follower's perspective...


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> *So thought provoking. . . *




Kull's been called many things in his short career (mostly by Troilan) but this is the first time anyone's described him as 'thought provoking'


----------



## Mantreus

> Kull's been called many things in his short career (mostly by Troilan) but this is the first time anyone's described him as 'thought provoking'



Gotta agree with Capellan here. He's maddening to play with. Very blunt, to the point. I want to slap him most of the time 
Oh, by the way, I play Brodnak, which reminds me, I think he'll need to add some further comments  Just to clarify a few things...



> Brodnak and the more reliable of the human females took the front line of defence at one door, while I directed the others in blocking the second. Weapons and spells at the ready, we waited: but not for long.




Kull directed by saying something like "I'm injured, I'm staying right were I am" 



> Suddenly the creature burst back into the room. I readied myself to face it as it strode forward, but then I heard Troilan call out for help. I was tempted to ignore the young fool, but as Hextor teaches us: the Only Honour is in Victory. To face the creature alone, in my wounded state, would surely mean my death. And thus instead I stood aside and let it past, then made my way to the furnace room.




Read as "I ran like a girl" 

But I agree with you all, it's an excellent take on a story hour, and Capellan is an excellent writer.


----------



## Capellan

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *Kull directed by saying something like "I'm injured, I'm staying right were I am"
> *




Pah.  If he'd had even _one_ hit point, he would have been beside you.  But on zero, with no healing spells left, swinging his mace even once would have dropped him and started him on the route toward death.

Kull's brave, but he's not stupid.  And he'd rather win than anything else, so he does the practical thing 

All things considered, I think saving three people's lives was a pretty valuable contribution to the fight.  I'm sure those in the group who reached -9 hp would be forced to agree with me


----------



## Lela

Sorry Mantreus, gotta take Kull's side on this one.

Bad pun by the way Capellan.  Kull. . .lol


----------



## Mantreus

> All things considered, I think saving three people's lives was a pretty valuable contribution to the fight. I'm sure those in the group who reached -9 hp would be forced to agree with me



I don't disagree with your actions, I more disagree with your portayal of them... there was no "directing", there was lots of cowering


----------



## arwink

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *
> there was lots of cowering  *




-Ahem-
"Tea-making," It's not cowering, it's making tea.  I should know 

I was also fairly sure Zalich didn't crumple anywhere along the line.  My character sheet doesn't show any instances of o or negative HP from the session (and I had way more than your average wizard).


----------



## Mantreus

> I was also fairly sure Zalich didn't crumple anywhere along the line. My character sheet doesn't show any instances of o or negative HP from the session (and I had way more than your average wizard).



Ha! It's all coming out now! I didn't remember you crumpling, but I wasn't sure so didn't comment. In fact, you're at the back making tea *cough* hiding *cough* so much that I'm surprised it got close enough


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *
> Ha! It's all coming out now! I didn't remember you crumpling, but I wasn't sure so didn't comment. In fact, you're at the back making tea *cough* hiding *cough* so much that I'm surprised it got close enough  *




Okay, I think it's time for a third perspective on this story.  Let's go Mantreus.  Time to write.


----------



## Mantreus

> Okay, I think it's time for a third perspective on this story. Let's go Mantreus. Time to write.



Lela, I play Brodnak in the game, and he can't write being a monosyllabic barbarian. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it 

I was thinking of hiring a scribe in Saltmarsh though... hmm


----------



## Capellan

arwink said:
			
		

> *I was also fairly sure Zalich didn't crumple anywhere along the line.  My character sheet doesn't show any instances of o or negative HP from the session (and I had way more than your average wizard). *




There were definitely three people who went down ... one in the corridor, two in the furnace room.  I couldn't remember who fell in the corridor, so I guessed Zalich.  Must've been Troilan or Julianne, instead.

I'll edit my previous post to reflect the correct person, once we work out who it actually was 



			
				Mantreus said:
			
		

> *I don't disagree with your actions, I more disagree with your portayal of them... there was no "directing", there was lots of cowering *




There was not, and will never be, cowering of any sort.  Kull is not afraid to face Hextor's judgement in the next life.  Can Mr Sleep On The Job say the same thing? 

(that's foreshadowing, that is)

EDIT:  One thing I should note is that Mantreus is correct that there was little actual directing (except in Kull's mind  ) the group pretty much handle themselves, most of the time.  There are events coming up, however, where Kull's personal vision of himself as leader is actually pretty close to what really happened.

Now where the heck is Zalich's POV?  Or is arwink waiting to hear who the other unconscious person really was before posting?


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *
> Lela, I play Brodnak in the game, and he can't write being a monosyllabic barbarian. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it
> 
> I was thinking of hiring a scribe in Saltmarsh though... hmm  *




You're recounting the great tale of your life to your grandchildren (or the gods).

That would work just fine.


----------



## arwink

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Now where the heck is Zalich's POV?  Or is arwink waiting to hear who the other unconscious person really was before posting? *




It'll be late this time around.  The first draft of my thesis is on a deadline at present, and I've gotta get it done before uni goes back in march.  Loosing a few days because of my shoulder meant I'm way, way behind.  

Look for it around friday some time, if I've caught up with everything else that needs writing


----------



## Lela

Yer Thisis?  Bha, like that's important.


----------



## arwink

Lela said:
			
		

> *Yer Thisis?  Bha, like that's important.  *




-sigh- 

It's that kind of attitude that gets me into these dealine crunches


----------



## Horacio

arwink said:
			
		

> *
> 
> -sigh-
> 
> It's that kind of attitude that gets me into these dealine crunches  *




Deadlines are the fun adrenaline surge creating moments in the life of a PhD student, I can tell you


----------



## Capellan

After extensive discussion with my colleagues, it's been determined that it was Troilan who actually fell in the corridor, not Zalich.

The last post of Kull's report has been updated to reflect this.


----------



## Mortepierre

Can't allow this to disappear on page 2! 

bump!


----------



## Capellan

Alas, it seems we have lost arwink - at least temporarily - and now we've got almost half a page of story hour with no story.  I'd be planning to wait so we could keep alternating posts, but since Zalich won't have anything to say of the next session anyway, I may as well press ahead.

I'll post a new story part this weekend - the epic tale of how Kull commanded the Second Battle of the Furnace


----------



## arwink

I'm sort of back, but I don't think I'm up to posting three updates in one night.

Go ahead and post away.  I'll catch up as soon as I've got the free time


----------



## Horacio

Arwink or Capellan, I don't mind who, update this now!!!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report - Part 5*

Having not personally witnessed much of the previous night's combat, I questioned those who had about the events, looking for a weakness that might be exploited.  The others insisted that they had dealt the creature several blows, but that these had barely seemed to slow it.  Certainly I had seen nothing to suggest they had done it any harm.

Zalich was, however, able to reveal that when he finally attacked the creature with fire - as I had wished from the start - it had seemed to affect it more seriously than any of the other attacks they had tried.

Armed with this knowledge, I quickly determined a plan of action.  Obviously the creature would not suffer to let the furnace remain lit indefinitely - its single-minded actions in its previous attack made that much clear.  Thus we could be sure that it would return to the furnace room, where we would have to stop it, or perish from the cold.

Hextor was with us, however, for the furnace room was readily defensible.  There was a stout door between it and the store room, and another from the store room into the tunnel beyond.  I knew we must turn these both into barriers against the creature: places where we could harm it without being slain ourselves.

To that end, I collected all the flasks of oil we each possessed, and shared them out among those of us with the best aim.  Then I directed the others in barricading the store room door, and in building a pile of flammable materials in front of it.  When the creature attacked, it would have to batter its way through the door, and would be met with a wall of fire when it did so.

With this accomplished, and with everyone aware of their role when the creature attacked, there was nothing left to do but wait.  Zalich prepared tea and a meal, using the great furnace as a makeshift stove, and I warned the others to snatch as much sleep as they could, as we would all need to be alert throughout the night.

Sure enough, almost on the stroke of midnight, the creature returned.  My preparations ensured we had plenty of warning, however, as it took over a minute for it to batter its way through the oaken door.

As soon as the top panel of the door gave way, the creature reached into the room, trying to push our barricade aside.  It was met by a hail of oil, however, as four flasks were flung toward it.  Only two ignited, but those soon lit the others, the flames racing across the pile of materials we had left for precisely that purpose.

The creature reeled back from the flames that licked around it.  I called for others to ready themselves, in case it tried to burst through, but with a shriek of rage, it instead fled from the corridor, disappearing once more into the upper reaches of the monastery.

I felt a great sense of pride over this success.  I had designed and directed a successful defence.  The enemy had been driven off without losses to my force.  Yet I also knew that the battle was not over: the creature would be back.  Perhaps not until the next night; perhaps within the hour.  Whichever it might be, I would need to make sure we were prepared.


----------



## Lela

Aw, but the beast must die.  For it can come and come and come whilst you fall victom to wearyness and pain.  Young cleric, honor does lie in defeating your foe.  But glory lies in slaying him.


----------



## Horacio

A cliffhanger? Cool!

More, more!


----------



## arwink

*Re: Kull's First Report - Part 5*



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> *Zalich prepared tea and a meal, using the great furnace as a makeshift stove*




_edited out.  I've got my fights confused _


----------



## Capellan

*Re: Re: Kull's First Report - Part 5*

No spoilers here.  Please move along.


We are a hedge.


----------



## arwink

*Re: Re: Re: Kull's First Report - Part 5*



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> No spoilers!  That's the next fight.
> *




Ooops.  I'll go edit that out then.

Just an ordinary hedge.  We are not Ninjas.  Nothing to see here at all


----------



## Joshua Randall

Nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.

I'm just posting so that I can get e-mail notifications.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report, Part 6*

I inspected the door of the store room to see if we could repair it, but it was clearly too badly damaged by the flames and by the creature for it to be serviceable.  We were also all but out of material to burn.  There were still stocks of canvas left, but if we hoped to escape the island, we would need those for our vessel.

I warned the others that I was sure the creature would return, and that this time, we would have no choice but to face it at the doors of the furnace room itself.  There could be no retreat for us, and with its goal in sight, I doubted the creature would withdraw again.  This would be a fight to the end.

With that in mind, I fashioned my plans for the defence.  We would need a guard in the store room, to watch the tunnel.  As soon as they saw the creature - which we had dubbed 'the Ice haunt' - the guard was to attack it with a missile weapon, then fall back to join the rest of us.  We would meet it with a massed volley of our remaining oil flasks, then meet it in hand to hand combat.  There, by Hextor's Will, either it or we would fall.

Again the day was spent in preparation.  I - with some assistance from the Druid - healed what remained of the others' injuries, holding only enough magic in reserve to stabilise anyone who fell.

Eventually, the creature returned.

Brodnak was on watch at the time.  As instructed, he cast a javelin as soon as he saw the foe.  But then, rather than fall back, he drew his sword, as if to face the creature in single combat.  Foolish bravado, of course: and the Ice Haunt treated it as such.  Sweeping past the Barbarian as he slashed wide of the mark, it casually struck him with a backhanded blow, knocking him back against the wall.

The creature lunged toward us, and though Brodnak would be trapped, I knew that we could not afford to hold our hands.  At my command, our remaining oil was hurled against the creature, creating a flaming barrier through which it plunged with a howl of pain and fury.

Zalich met it with another wave of fire.  Arcane words tumbled from his lips as the flames burst from his fingers, washing over the creature and enraging it still further.  With patches of its skin still smouldering, the Ice Haunt charged directly toward him.  Zalich never flinched: even as its claws raked his skin, he was already rushing through the words of another spell.  Small of stature but stout of heart, the halfling is not the helpless chef he seems to be.

For once, Troilan did not rush in and disrupt the plan.  As Zalich's second wave of fire burned the creature still further, she sent an arrow deep into its side, staggering it slightly.  It was a fine shot: if only the girl had the sense to follow instructions more often, she might actually prove useful.

With many blows raining down upon it, and Zalich's spells still charring its flesh, I could see the Haunt was all but finished.  Calling upon Hextor to guide my blow, I stepped forward and smote it with my flail, smashing the creature to the ground.

At last, the Ice Haunt was destroyed.  Praise be to Hextor.


----------



## Horacio

By Hextor's will, the fight was hard but our heroes won 

More, more!

And I want Arwink's version... Arwink, don't be sucha slacker and write


----------



## Talix

Sounds like a brief, but exciting fight!  

The concept of being stranded on an island definitely adds something to the feel of the campaign. 8)


----------



## arwink

_*Zalich's log, entry four*_

Hmm.  I look here and I see a laxness that's inexcusable.  Has it been so long since I last made an entry?  A poor showing, I'm sure.  With my recent promotion, it's important to keep on top of such things.  

So much has changed since my last post, yet duty demands that I keep things consistant.  Much as I may wish to forget the events of the frozen monestary, they did lead me to my ship.

So, where was I?

Ah yes.  I've heard travellers talk about the undead, but I've never truly appreciated the truth lingering in their tales.  There's few walking dead on the ocean, so I've been spared a great deal of experience with them.  I have a simple cantrip in my spellbook that's specifically tailored to harming them, but I have seen little use for it.  Meldach had always insisted I memorise it, telling me the time would come when some pirate mage would raise a fallen comrade from the dead and I'd be glad of knowing it.  Before I was trapped in that frosty monestary, I'd never had cause to cast it before.  Strange, considering how often I've commited the runes and gestures to memory since then.

So.  The Ice Ghoul.  

It came striding toward our camp while most of us were sleeping.  The creature was huge, standing over six feet tall and its flesh pale and blue tinged from the cold.  Even now I shudder to remember it.  I forget who was on guard, but they managed to wake the rest of us before it strode through the door to the kitchen.  The horror paid as little mind even as we struck at it, as though our weary blows were as incosequential as mosquito bites to us.  It waded through our defenses and down the stairs to the cellar.

It was obvious that the creature was infuriated by the heat, but my true concern was what happened once that boiler was destroyed.  Would it be content to leave us in peace after that? It seemed doubtful, to say the least.  Whether we wanted it or not, it seemed we had a fight on our hands.

It could not have happend at a worse time.  I was one of the few survivors who wasn't wounded, and all of the competent warriors were on their last legs.  Kull was virtuall staggering from place to place, clinging to consciousness with sheer willpower.

With some tripedation, I realised that I was one of the logical choices to chase after the undead beast.  With a sigh I readed my crossbow and made sure my rolling pin was within easy reach.  I got some confused looks when others saw me tucking the bulky wooden rolling pin under my cloak, but Meldach had often told me tales of repelling borders with whatever weapon came to hand and I comforted myself with memories of his tales.  I've had little training with hand to hand weapons, and when I feared the ship was attacked unexpected the rolling pin was the first thing that came to hand.  In retrospect, I've become quite comfortable with it.  I'm even considering having a new rolling pin made, specially balanced for combat.

But, yes, the ice ghoul.  I shouldn't let myself be distracted.  We gave chase, but it didn't go well for us.  Kull screamed at me to cast some kind of fire spell on the creature, but there was no chance to do so.  I know but one spell that produces flames, burning hands, and that required me to get far closer to the beast than I truly wished too.  I hung back and cast Meldach's spell, the long memorized and never used incantation that disrupted the essence of the undead.  It's a weak spell, and it did little beyond enraging the beast.  It roared at me, the most attention it'd given to anyone thus far, and I felt a frosty fear creep into my soul.  Triolan dashed down the stairs to assult the creature with her rapier, and it lashed out with its claws to cut her down.  Brodnak and the druid were quick to follow, and with them I continued to trail the ice ghoul as it stalked towards the furnace.  I fired crossbow bolts at the creature when the opportunity presented itself, but rarely seemed to connect.  Brodnak and the druid both landed blows, but were quickly cut down in retalliation.  

I had a quarrel loaded, ready to fire, when I noticed we'd reached the furnace room.  I'm not sure how I'd managed to miss our passage, although I blame it on my focus on the creature we were trying to stop.  Now there was no-one there but the creature and me, it standing in front of the furnace doors and me with a loaded crossbow and two bleeding comrades at my feet.

It turned a tap on the side of the furnace, flooding the flames inside with water.  Steam and darkness filled the room in seconds.  I did the only sensible thing I could do in the situation.

I screamed for help.

I could feel the ice ghoul moving past me, and I even swung out once with the rolling pin as it moved away but the lack of light left me flailing in the darkness.   Within seconds I could hear Kull moving through the room, staggered but still standing and ready to heal the fallen.  He could do little beyond binding wounds, but he did what he could.  I spent several long minutes standing in the darkness, amazed that I was not only still alive but relatively unhurt.

"We light the furnace again," someone called.  I gathered from the voice that it was Kull.  Both the half-orcs sound much the same, but I'd seen the druids wounds and I was sure he'd still be unconcious.  "We light it again, and we keep it low in hopes it doesn't come back.  We'll move everyone down here for the night.  It's easier to defend, and this room should stay warmer than the rest of the monestary."

It was logic, of a sort, but the orders were welcome at that point.  All I could do was stare numbly into the darkness.  There was movement around me, and soon a small fire was started in the furnace.  Kull offered to take watch in our new camp, and I gladly let him do it.  Somehow, I knew that beast was coming back to find us, and I knew there were spells in my book that I'd need.  Rest called out to me, and I soon slept soundly near the faint warmth of the furnace.

_Note: Yep, I'm still behind, but I'll be doing my best to catch up in the next week or two.  I was going to do it in one longer post, but we gamed today and Zalich had a good run.  I figured I owed him an update _


----------



## Lela

And don't think we don't appreciate it Arwink.  The, uh, cowerdice of Zalich not withstanding, I still like his side of the story.


----------



## arwink

Lela said:
			
		

> *And don't think we don't appreciate it Arwink.  The, uh, cowerdice of Zalich not withstanding, I still like his side of the story.
> 
> *




Zalich prefers the term cautious rather than cowardice   He's not an adventurer by nature.  Most of his training has been in cooking, sailing and fighting pirates, so anything stranger than a human or half-orc with a cutlass is slightly more than he's used too.

When we get to the write up of the last session, it'll show how much more at home he is when he's in that kind of element


----------



## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> *
> 
> When we get to the write up of the last session, it'll show how much more at home he is when he's in that kind of element  *





Well, get to writting man.  We can't wait forever!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report - Part 7*

Tactics and discipline had overcome the Ice Haunt.  Now they would be needed to overcome the greater challenge: escaping the island.

In the morning, after we had rested for the remainder of the night, I tended to those wounds that had been suffered.  In the end, the battle had been won well, but there were still a few who carried small wounds.  The druid wanted us to remain another day in the cellar, until we were 'fully healed', but I overruled this piece of cowardice-disguised-as-prudence.  The few slight injuries that remained would not inhibit our search.  In any case, our food could not last forever.

I led the group back to the upper storey of the monastery, to continue the search of the building.  It was important to make sure there were no more threats waiting for us.  I also wished to see if there might also be some information or tools to assist us.

There were only a few chambers left on the level, but they provided the information I was seeking, if not the tools.  The first room was a bedchamber for one of the senior monks, and the monastery diary was there among his possessions.

Reading over the last few entries, it was obvious that this monk had felt himself responsible for the fate that had befallen the item.  He wrote often of the Ice Haunt, and how he had brought it down upon them, though he did not say how.  He also spoke of the creature's vulnerability to fire, and of a trap he had laid that he believed would destroy it: using himself as the bait.  Given the creature's continued existence until our arrival, it seemed obvious his trap had failed.  

As the search continued, I soon learned the monk's fate: he had made the library his stronghold, and doused the whole room in oil.  A frozen, slippery coating of the fluid still covered the floor.  Frozen, just like the man who had prepared it.  His corpse was huddled in the corner, face locked in a grimace, flint and tinder in his icy hands.  Evidently the creature had rushed upon him too quickly for him to act.  But at least he had made plans to defeat it: it was a warrior's death.

There was little more of interest in these rooms: not even a chart of the island's location, which was the least I had hoped to find.  There were, however, still the stairs that led up, and I now threw open the doors, to see where they would lead.

The stairs emerged onto a balcony, high on the roof of the monastery.  A howling wind drove sleet and snow across the area, but I braced myself against it, standing as strong and as tall as the two statues that occupied either end of the balcony.

These statues depicted monks, rather than deities.  Each faced a door, set into the stone wall on either side of the stairs.  The doors were made of sturdy hardwood, iron-bound, and proved to be locked when I tried them.

At this point, Troilan stepped forward, boasting that she could open any door she wished, given a few minutes to work.  If the claim was true, it would mean that she finally offered some use to me, and I stepped back, waving for her to proceed.

The woman swaggered to the door, and spent several minutes examining it, then crouched and produced a set of slender lock-picks.

She had barely set to work, however, when there was a grind of stone on stone, and the two statues began to move.


----------



## Talix

Heh, I love the bias.    Hopefully someone is just coming out of the secret doors hidden behind the statues, yeah, that's it...


----------



## Lela

*Re: Kull's First Report - Part 7*



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> *It was a warrior's death.
> *




Hmmmm.  He fell in battle.  Good for him!


Capellan, do you think you could provide any direct insight into Hextor for me?  Recently he's become a point of interest for me and I've been including him in my campaign as a rather major figure.  Theories about on his dogma and, especially, his worshipers have captured a particular interest.

Thanks,


----------



## Capellan

*Re: Re: Kull's First Report - Part 7*



			
				Lela said:
			
		

> *Capellan, do you think you could provide any direct insight into Hextor for me?  Recently he's become a point of interest for me and I've been including him in my campaign as a rather major figure.  Theories about on his dogma and, especially, his worshipers have captured a particular interest.*




Well to be honest, I am making it up as I go along ... and even then, Kull's personal faith in Hextor is a little different from the norm (Kull is, after all, LN rather than LE).

That said, some of the things that Kull believes are:

- with proper discipline, you can overcome any challenge
- discipline requires strong leadership (ie you must be a strong leader to instill discipline in others)
- strong leadership requires discipline (ie you cannot be a strong leader if you yourself are not disciplined)
- physical needs (food; security) are the only true requirements of contentment: other freedoms/wants should be tolerated only so far as they do not impinge upon these needs
- success requires sacrifice
- victory is the only honour (it is better to be shamed, but survived, than to die for your 'honour')
- tangibles matter; intangibles do not (this is pretty much the above two points, boiled down to the core concept)
- you cannot - and should not - help those who will not help themselves (if a town is best by bandits, Kull would help them raise and train a militia to fight the attacker; but he would not help if they citizens did not agree to fight)

I think that the central Hextorite church would be more oppressive and autocratic (yes, even moreso than Kull).  People would simply be _made_ to do as the Church commanded, whereas Kull does actually try to use argument (and not a little bluster) to get his way.

That said, Kull's idea of a 'model' society would still be a bit grim by our standards.  He would focus on material needs (shelter, food, security) and run things in a pretty strictly martial manner (all adults would be expected to serve in the militia and train with weapons; all children would be trained on where to go in an emergency - that sort of thing).  Everyone would be expected to contribute.  Free time would be quite limited.

Actually, here's a really quick example of the difference between Kull's approach and the official Church approach (in practice):

*Kull*
My orders should be followed.  Discipline makes our society stronger, and I make my decisions for the good of all.

*The Church*
My orders should be followed, because they are _my_ orders.

Of course, that's just my view of Hextor's Church in _this_ campaign.  In CotRE, Hextor is one of the twin gods of the empire (together with Heironeous) so his function is a little different, and his church is closer to Kull's approach (though still LE, and more brutal than Kull tends to be).


----------



## Lela

Thanks Capellan.  It gives me a few thoughts and does help quite a bit.

Just out of curiosity, what would Kull say to a villiage who needed help with a local (Red) dragon?


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> *Just out of curiosity, what would Kull say to a villiage who needed help with a local (Red) dragon? *




How big is the dragon?  What level is Kull? 

The specific situation would have a lot of impact here.  There's a big difference between a smallish dragon that massed peasant archery might genuinely hurt, and a monster that would barely even feel the handful of natural 20s that actually wounded it.

If faced with an overwhelming threat, Kull's policy would be:

"Find out what the threat requires in order to make it leave you alone.  If you can afford to pay, do so.  If you can't, leave."

Of course, Kull's definition of 'overwhelming' might be different to that of others.  He firmly believes that a good plan and proper discipline makes the 'impossible', possible.

And I think that, if we're going to discuss this further, we should do so in another thread ... best not to clutter up the story hour


----------



## Lela

Fasinating.



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> And I think that, if we're going to discuss this further, we should do so in another thread ... best not to clutter up the story hour  *




Well, I think I'm good for now.  But if I come up with anything else, I flip open a thread and drop a link here.



> _Originally posted by _
> *
> I'm just posting so that I can get e-mail notifications.  *




Bottom of the page: "Subscribe to this Thread"

Just ask any lurker.  They can point it out.


----------



## arwink

*Re: Re: Re: Kull's First Report - Part 7*



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> That said, some of the things that Kull believes are:
> 
> - with proper discipline, you can overcome any challenge
> -snip-
> - you cannot - and should not - help those who will not help themselves (if a town is best by bandits, Kull would help them raise and train a militia to fight the attacker; but he would not help if they citizens did not agree to fight)
> *




Tsk, you left out the most important one.  
-If I can't handle it, let the halfling kill it



I'll be attempting to post updates this weekend.  With the return of teaching, the daily update on some of the other SH will cease and I'll attempt to do all three once a week.  Bad news for Copperheads fans, but I may finally catch up here - especially considering I was gone for the next chunk of adventuring.


----------



## Lela

*Re: Re: Re: Re: Kull's First Report - Part 7*



			
				arwink said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Tsk, you left out the most important one.
> -If I can't handle it, let the halfling kill it
> *




Game Notes:




Hextor will _not_ kill all the halflings.
Alocate large portion of the Hextorian Temple's budget to puchasing 10-foot-poles (record as spell componant).
[/list=1]


----------



## Capellan

*Re: Re: Re: Re: Kull's First Report - Part 7*



			
				arwink said:
			
		

> *I'll be attempting to post updates this weekend.  With the return of teaching, the daily update on some of the other SH will cease and I'll attempt to do all three once a week.  Bad news for Copperheads fans, but I may finally catch up here - especially considering I was gone for the next chunk of adventuring. *




Session 2 (the one arwink missed) probably won't take long for Kull to recount, actually.  Unfortunately, a lot of the RPing side of things will be lost, without Zalich's chatty style ... alot of what happened is simply stuff Kull would not bother to report.  I might have to post a separate, out of character description of the various characters and personalities of the village.

That is, unless one of the other players steps up to bat


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report - Part 8*

I should have known better than to trust Troilan's boasts.

I should also have known better than to expect her to hold her ground: she leapt from her position at the door, scrambling down the stairs almost as fast as Brodnak rushed in the opposite direction.

For the northerner had wasted no time in charging the foe.  Raving and swearing in his native dialect, he seemed like a man enraged, his skin bright red and the veins in his neck standing out in thick cords.  It seemed the warrior was also a berserker.  A dangerous ally: but also an effective one.

He soon proved just how effective, as his blows hammered into one of the statues, crushing the stone badly.

I made no hesitation in moving to aid him, for the two statues were hammering him with blows that would have felled most men.  Perhaps it was nothing more than his rage that kept him on his feet, but Brodnak still stood, striking back with all his might.

Troilan suddenly reappeared, jabbing ineffectually at one of the statues with her blade.  The rapier is not a proper weapon of war, as this fight soon proved.  For all her speed and agility, the woman could never have stood against these guardians: her weapon simply bounced off the stone, barely even scuffing it.

Realising that only the strongest of blows could harm the statues, I cast aside my shield and gripped my flail in both hands, striking them again and again.  A stone fist slammed into me, but I did not waver, forcing one of the statues away so that they could not both attack Brodnak.  Faced with only a single foe, the barbarian soon smashed his opponent into rubble.  Then, the two of us destroyed the second.

As soon as the fight was over, I called on Hextor to grant healing for Brodnak.  The barbarian had been badly wounded: most men would have been dead.  I knew that our Lord would not stint from recognising the worth of such a fine warrior, and indeed the healing power flowed strongly, leaving only the faintest of bruises on the northerner's skin.

As we stood there, the others shamefacedly emerged from the stairwell, where they had cowered throughout the fight.  The druid made some excuse about going off in search of a club for the battle; as if a lump of wood could have damaged stone any better than the blade he already carried.  It is obvious to me that he has physical strength, but little courage.  Hardly surprising, given his weakling faith.  The others made no such excuses.  Nor did they need to: it was clear they lacked the strength or the weapons to harm the statues.

With the battle over, Troilan returned once more to the first of the doors, and this time proved up to the challenge of opening the lock.  I opened the door, flail at the ready, but the room beyond was empty of any threats, containing only a bed, a chest, and a few other items.  Looking around, it was clear that the other door from the balcony also led into this chamber.

A thorough search of the room produced a small pile of unusual or distinctive items.  Most simply had monetary value, but there was also a magical cloak of concealment, which Troilan made no hesitation in claiming.  No doubt I shall have to watch how she puts it to use.

The search of the room had taken almost an hour, and as I led the way back downstairs, I noticed that the ferocity of the winds on the balcony had died off.  It seemed the storm had broken.


----------



## Lela

As always, an excellent write up Capellan.

I'm also noticing an egocentric view.  is that intentional?  Would it be perminant or is it that the others just haven't prooven their worth yet?


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> *I'm also noticing an egocentric view.  is that intentional?  Would it be perminant or is it that the others just haven't prooven their worth yet? *




It's definitely intentional 

Kull believes that he has a greating calling, to spread Hextor's name and make it respected as much as it is feared.

As for the others ... he actually respects both Brodnak and Zalich.  Brodnak's a tough fighter, and Zalich won major points in the final fight with the ice haunt.

As for the others ... Korvax (the druid) got discounted out of hand for his 'ridiculous' religious beliefs.  That colours everything Kull says about him.  Julianne (a female human fighter) has barely registered with Kull at this point (which is why she is barely mentioned in his report).  She's a fairly effective fighter, but she tends to be quiet and not push herself forward, so Kull as her mentally pigeon-holed as "the other female".

Which brings us to Troilan.

Oh boy.

Troilan is the complete antithesis of Kull.  Personality, ethics, even attributes and classes are almost direct opposites (he's a Lawful Neutral Cleric who's built as a tank; she's a Neutral Good Rogue/Bard with weapon finesse and a rebellious streak).  Troilan gets by _far_ the most biased account in the story hour.  She epitomises everything he believes must be fixed in human society.  He puts up with her only because no more suitable scout is available.

Note that, as a player, I am _thrilled_ to have a character like Troilan in the group.  A strongly autocratic character like Kull needs a strongly independant character like Troilan to butt heads with (and vice versa).

Kull, on the other hand, does not share my enthusiasm


----------



## Talix

What's good for the player is often not good for the character.


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Which brings us to Troilan.
> *




Yep, I wouldn't mind to have Troilan's player give an account once in a while.  It doesn't have to be all the time, just whenever she gets time or finds Kull giving a very unaccurate account (IHO).


----------



## Dungannon

Lela said:
			
		

> *Yep, I wouldn't mind to have Troilan's player give an account once in a while.  It doesn't have to be all the time, just whenever she gets time or finds Kull giving a very unaccurate account (IHO). *



How dare you insinuate that Kull is not 100% accurate and unbiased in his accounts at all times.  As a direct servant of Hextor, it is his _duty_ to provide a fair and impartial rendering of all proceedings so the participants can be judged as to their worthiness for the afterlife.



Yeah, right.  Kull's impartiality is right up there with a small-town sherrif's in Texas who just pulled over a foreign sports car with New York plates.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report - Part 9*

I will not trouble you with the details of our escape from the island.  Suffice to say that we discovered the monks' old vessel - a larger and (once repaired) more sea-worthy vessel than the boat on which we had arrived.  Originally, it was half-submerged in several feet of water, but between them, Zalich and the navigator were able to work out a method to get it afloat once more.

I went through the store room of the monastery in great detail, finding every container that was capable of holding water.  Once we set off, we would have no source of fresh water other than magic: the better the stockpile we could begin with, the better.

In all, the repairs took about a week.  Then, with the boat as heavily laden with provisions as we dared, we set off across the ocean.  The navigator's sextant had survived our journey to the island, and he claimed to have a rough idea of where we were.  Knowing nothing of the sea ourselves, we had little option but to trust him.  Zalich seemed to believe the boy's claims, and despite his physical weakness, the halfling is intelligent and reliable.  I did not believe he would have been easily fooled.

It proved in time that the navigator's estimate of our position was correct.  After several days of sailing, we came in sight of a rocky, rather bleak-looking shoreline.  We could, however, see a road on the cliffs above the stony beach, which meant that there must be civilisation of some kind.

Making landfall, I led the way up to the top of the cliffs, then looked out in each direction, searching for some sign of the closest settlement.  Meanwhile, the druid's wolf - a most unpleasant companion on such a crowded trip - roamed around the area, sniffing at the dirt and 'marking' everything it passed.  Filthy creature.

A steady rain had started as we climbed the cliff, and there was no way to distinguish one direction from the other.  The road, muddy and seemingly rarely-used, offered no clue, while any chimney smoke or similar distant sign was lost in the falling rain.

My original destination had lain to the south of our current position - or at least, the position the navigator believed us to be in.  Thus, I turned south, trusting to Hextor to guide my journey.  Behind me, I could hear the others fall into line, slipping and sliding as they followed me along the muddy road.  We had travelled only a few minutes when Zalich - digging into his pack for some item or another - fell, dislocating his arm.  Magic lessened the pain, but the limb still had to be bound tightly, so that it would heal correctly.  In the mean time, he would not be able to use his spells.

This was a discouraging start to the journey, but I did not allow it to dissuade me from pressing on.  Hextor does not look kindly on those who lack the strength to face adversity.  And within an hour, this perseverance had paid off.  I reached a crest in the road, and - looking out through the rain - saw a village on the lowlands ahead.  There were sheep - looking as bedraggled and damp as we had become - on the hillside below me.

I did not then know its name, but I had come to the village of Saltmarsh.


----------



## Lela

And we are now at the point were Arwink vanished from the session.

Good way to do that Cap, very effective for a mage.  Was that your idea, the DM's, or his?


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> *Good way to do that Cap, very effective for a mage.  Was that your idea, the DM's, or his? *




arwink _actually_ dislocated his arm in real life, and - in a haze of painkillers - forgot the game.  I simply decided to convert the reality into the fantasy


----------



## arwink

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> arwink actually dislocated his arm in real life, and - in a haze of painkillers - forgot the game.  I simply decided to convert the reality into the fantasy  *




Not my best weekend, all up 

AT least it gives me a chance to catch up on the updates.


----------



## Lela

I'm not sure exactly how to respond to that.  Though I will send my sympathy to arwink.  That must suck,


----------



## arwink

Lela said:
			
		

> *I'm not sure exactly how to respond to that.  Though I will send my sympathy to arwink.  That must suck, *




It was a while ago, over a month, so I'm all healed now.  And at the time, especially within the context of that weekend, it didn't seem so bad.  One of my friends spent three days thinking her father was killed in a train crash around that time, so I was content to get away with a sore arm 

(Besides, it was my own fault.  Damn beer and aging sneakers)


----------



## Horacio

Time for another update, folks


----------



## arwink

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Time for another update, folks  *




It'll probably take a while.  Neither Capellan or I have much time to game, let along write at the moment.

We are playing today, though, so there's always the chance one of us will be inspired


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's First Report - Part 10*

There proved to be little to distinguish this settlement from the hundreds of other small villages that dot the land.  It had the same run-down buildings, weak religion, indolent sheriff and undisciplined children that blight so many townships around the land.

Once accommodation had been found, however, it became clear that I would be stuck in Saltmarsh for some time.  No trade caravans were scheduled to leave in the next week, and the inclement weather would have made travel without shelter - which I wholly lacked after the shipwreck - a miserable and dangerous proposition.

I was at least able to find a trader in town who was willing to purchase a number of the goods that I had recovered from the island monastery's store room.  I had no liking for the merchant - an oily and sycophantic individual of slug-like appearance - but in the circumstances his prices were not too extortionate.

As is typical of small towns, the efforts made toward defence and protection were negligible.  There was not even an attempt to clear the land around the settlement, let alone a stockade, and the 'militia' proved to comprise a sheriff who never left his office and a handful of volunteers who never trained.  Given a dozen disciplined men, I could have taken the town in an hour.  I attempted to persuade the sheriff of the need to improve the town's readiness, but it was obvious from his attitude that he had no intention of doing so.

My attempts to warn the sheriff did accomplish one thing, however.  In a transparent attempt to distract me, he recounted a number of local legends involving a ruined house on a nearby cliff.  These were the usual nonsense about 'strange lights', 'apparitions' and the like, and I did not attribute much credence to them.  However, there would certainly be nothing lost by investigating the tales, if only to disprove them and to show the worth of Hextor in comparison to the weak superstitions of their current beliefs.

Accordingly, I have broached the matter with my companions from the shipwreck.  Though they do not yet embrace the wisdom and discipline of Hextor's teachings, some of them at least have useful skills, and can do work in His name, whether they realise it or not.  I lead them to the ruin on the morrow.

In the unlikely event that my investigation turns up anything significant, I shall report again immediately.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Capellan

arwink said:
			
		

> *It'll probably take a while.  Neither Capellan or I have much time to game, let along write at the moment.
> 
> We are playing today, though, so there's always the chance one of us will be inspired  *




It wasn't so much the game today (though I enjoyed it) as the fact that I am work at midnight on a Saturday night, that prompted today's update.   I'm waiting for some jobs to finish on our server so I can check the output, and I figured I may as well do something useful in the meantime 

A note about the update:  part 10 of the 'first report' actually covers the opening hour or so of the second session we played (we've now played four times ... I am _so_ behind on everything I'm doing ...).  In order to maintain Kull's 'voice', I've had to omit recounting in game events that he simply would not have bothered to include in his report.  Normally I could rely on the much chattier and informal Zalich log entries to cover those gaps, but of course arwink missed this session.

So, a quick summary of some of the events that Kull omitted:

- meeting a shepherd as we entered the town, who told us a bit about Saltmarsh (he later turned out to be the mayor)
- children following us around town, aping our equipment and appearance with household items: cooking pots for helmets, sticks in place of swords, etc
- Troilan accidentally propositioning the local priest of Pelor (actually, it was a perfectly innocent question - Brodnak's player just decided to take it out of context  )
- the true extent of the merchant's oiliness and hand-wringing sycophancy
- Brodnak drawing the attention of the town's 'lady of the night', and his player's depiction of the 'innocent savage' faced with a rather unexpected proposition
- a long conversation with the barkeep in which we quizzed him for more details about the ruined house
- and lots of other 'flavour' that Kull unfortunately considers to be a waste of time including in his report


----------



## Horacio

How, my mystic powers work, I ask for update and I get it  

Will it work again?

Time for an update, folks!


----------



## Dungannon

Capellan, Any chance you or arwink can talk one of the other players to give a "guest report" every once in a while so we can have another point of view on the adventurers' activities?


----------



## Lela

I like the idea of kids fallowing adventurers around.  I may start doing that.

I assume you were relating this experience to my questions about Kull's view of towns and their ability to help themselves.  Nice to see a little more of where that comes from.


----------



## Capellan

> How, my mystic powers work, I ask for update and I get it
> 
> Will it work again?
> 
> Time for an update, folks!




  In all honesty, had I not been sitting at work waiting for jobs to run, you'd have been out of luck   Any further updates from me are likely to be a few days off, at the least.



> Capellan, Any chance you or arwink can talk one of the other players to give a "guest report" every once in a while so we can have another point of view on the adventurers' activities?




They've already been asked ... Mantreus (Brodnak) has made vague threats about doing it, as has the Padre (our DM).  I don't think the other people really visit ENworld much.



> I assume you were relating this experience to my questions about Kull's view of towns and their ability to help themselves. Nice to see a little more of where that comes from.




More the other way round ... Kull's experience in this session (and the next - and actually the one yesterday, as well) left him with a pretty dismissive opinion of the Saltmarshers.  So when you asked your questions, a lot of what I stated there came from his reaction to this.

In game, Kull has made no secret of the fact that he considers the sheriff to be inept and incapable.  If circumstances lead to the group remaining in the area (and since we are playing the full U* series, they will) he will almost certainly attempt to usurp the role.


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> In game, Kull has made no secret of the fact that he considers the sheriff to be inept and incapable.  If circumstances lead to the group remaining in the area (and since we are playing the full U* series, they will) he will almost certainly attempt to usurp the role. *




I look forward to seeing that.


----------



## Horacio

Lela said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I look forward to seeing that. *




Me to


----------



## Lela

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Me to  *




Me th..., uh, oh, dangit!


----------



## arwink

Me Three.  Zalich has taken a somewhat dim view to the townsfolk of late, and he's more than willing to watch Kull grind them into dust


----------



## Mantreus

Dungannon said:
			
		

> *Capellan, Any chance you or arwink can talk one of the other players to give a "guest report" every once in a while so we can have another point of view on the adventurers' activities? *



Like Capellan said, I've threatened a few times... it's just the doing that takes some er.. doing.

Brodnak has a very simple view on things. He doesn't care why, or how, but as long as he's snotting things with his axe he's a happy barbarian


----------



## Lela

You mean he doesn't care about the puny children fallowing him around, hoping that one day they too will be un-puny enough to smack things with big axes?  Just think, all those puny kids idealizing Brodnak's smacking ability.

Why, he should open a daycare!  "Bring puny kids here.  We teach them to smack!"


----------



## arwink

Idealizing Brodnak's smacking ability is best left for a time.  

At present, _Zalich_ does a better job of snotting things.  And he's thinking of opening a school that teaches the fine art of the rolling pin bash 

(It's the kids idolizing Kull you have to watch out for.  They're just down-right creepy.)


----------



## Mantreus

*looks toward sky*

Rolling above 10 at least half the time isn't too much to ask is it?

Last game Brodnak hit on about 3 occasions... it was a freakish bit of dice rolling  Next game I'm going to show them all!! Nothing will stand in my way!!


----------



## Lela

Reminds me of the centar Paladin in my group trying to hit the Wild Mage.  I think he originally needed a 5 to hit (which went up to 9 after _Haste_ was cast).

After 3 rounds, the uninjured spellcaster ran away like--as it's now known in our group--"A scared little Wild Mage."  The visual is quite funny.


----------



## djrdjmsqrd

**smirk**

Hey, just around here...reading.

Djordje


----------



## greycastle

ahhh....i have a question....how is it playing an Evil Cleric?

Where did you put your skills, stats etc?

How do you allocate spells? 

Any suggestions on playing an evil cleric?

and finally, is it WORTH it playing an evil cleric, roleplaying and rollplaying wise...


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Uh, you do realise he's not evil, he's LN, don't you?


----------



## Capellan

greycastle said:
			
		

> *ahhh....i have a question....how is it playing an Evil Cleric?
> 
> Where did you put your skills, stats etc?
> 
> How do you allocate spells?
> 
> Any suggestions on playing an evil cleric?
> 
> and finally, is it WORTH it playing an evil cleric, roleplaying and rollplaying wise... *




Well I should start by pointing out that Kull is _not_ evil.  In fact, he'd be offended by the suggestion that he was.  He understands that Hextor is perceived by the wider community as 'evil' but he doesn't see it that way: he sees Hextor as a stern btu necessary taskmaster for a weak and decadent society.  He knows that the Church sometimes uses what he would consider 'ruthless' measures, but he has faith that - in their great knowledge of Hextor's Will - these actions were necessary.

He is, in other words, totally blinkered in his beliefs   But his personal alignment is LN.

As for playing him ... Kull is a _lot_ of fun for me.  He's atank in combat and in every other situation, too.  Tact and subtlety completely escape him.  All of which is not to say he's stupid ... he usually gets what he wants, after all 

Stat and Skill wise, I am aiming for the Templar PrC, so I took a high STR, CON and WIS and have been investing heavily in Knowledge (Religion).  That really hasn't been much different from if I were playing a similarly martial Cleric of a Good God.

Spells: for Kull, I generally take two each of _cure minor wounds_ and _cure light wounds_ per day.  This is enough, when combined with a _wand of cure light wounds_ (lesson one of being a negative energy channeler: buy healing wands).  Everything else is a combat spell (especially _bull's strength_) or an enchantment (I have spell focus).

Is Kull worth playing?  Definitely.  As I said, he is great fun for me.  From a 'power' point of view, I don't think I am really giving up much ... healing items compensate for the need to prepare _cure_ spells, and the chance to turn undead on each other is much more fun than simply blasting them to dust


----------



## arwink

Me, I'd call him a bad influence.  Zalich was a much nicer halfling before he was trapped in a town of twits with the half-orc.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Ookay, that gave me bizzare images of a hard-bitten halfling cook distributing frontier justice with a rolling pin.


----------



## arwink

Thomas Hobbes said:
			
		

> *Ookay, that gave me bizzare images of a hard-bitten halfling cook distributing frontier justice with a rolling pin. *




You'd be surprised how accurate that image becomes in the future


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Sheriff Kull and Deputy Arwink in: every cliche western you've ever seen. Good Cop/Bad Cop indeed.


----------



## ThoughtBubble

So, do I need to beg to find out about it? = )


----------



## Mantreus

ThoughtBubble said:
			
		

> *So, do I need to beg to find out about it? = ) *



You'll have to wait till the story hours catch up  But Zalich has definitely become more vocal since Brodnak first encountered him. And unfortunately, he's been much more deadly with his rolling pin than I have been with my axe, or greatsword


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *
> You'll have to wait till the story hours catch up  But Zalich has definitely become more vocal since Brodnak first encountered him. And unfortunately, he's been much more deadly with his rolling pin than I have been with my axe, or greatsword  *




And you, of course, will be giving us some musings and whinings on the subject I'm sure. 

Perhaps just some mumblings about it afterword?


----------



## Talix

You know it's a bad thing if both Kull AND Zalich want to smack down the townsfolk.


----------



## Horacio

Talix said:
			
		

> *You know it's a bad thing if both Kull AND Zalich want to smack down the townsfolk.   *




No, it is a sign of good DMing, he must have succeded in doing the townfolk  really despisable


----------



## Mantreus

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> No, it is a sign of good DMing, he must have succeded in doing the townfolk  really despisable  *



That's true, he's done an excellent job of making Saltmarsh look like a real "hick" town. This doesn't wash well with Kull, his village was rather "hick" and he didn't aprove of that either. I think Zalich is a tad too urbane and world wise to put up wih it for long.

Of course that's just my opinion...


----------



## Capellan

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *That's true, he's done an excellent job of making Saltmarsh look like a real "hick" town. This doesn't wash well with Kull, his village was rather "hick" and he didn't aprove of that either.*




Kull's issue with Saltmarsh is not that it's a "hick" town.  It's their complete lack of self-reliance and responsibility.  There are no defences, no militia, no plans for an emergency ... they've been allowed to be lazy and foolish for far too long.  For its own good, the place needs to be taught some discipline.

I like to think that we are making progress on that front


----------



## Dungannon

Hmm, with Kull & Zalich in charge of security, what are the chances that Troilan will run for mayor of Saltmarsh just to spite him?


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Second Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Midwinter

To:  Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

Recent events have been such that I felt compelled to send a further report to you immediately.

As outlined in my previous report, I had decided to investigate the ruined house on the cliffs near Saltmarsh.  I had little expectation at the time that the investigation would turn up anything of note, but it has proven far more significant than I had imagined.

The house itself stands in the midst of a walled, overgrown estate.  Most of the others from the island had accompanied me - only Zalich remained behind, due to his injured arm - and, after reconnoitring the situation, I led the others into the building.

Immediately, a "magic mouth" effect appeared and pronounced a warning that I would die if I did not leave, threatening attacks by ghosts and terrible curses.  Wizards: always expecting people to be impressed with their parlour tricks.  Still, if a wizard was attempting to frighten off intruders from the house, then I knew there must have once been something there that was worth protecting - and it might still be present.

Following some footprints in the dust on the floor, I led the way into the interior of the house.  Within, the trail split in two: one set of prints led upstairs, while another followed the downstairs hall.

There was some foolish talk of taking the stairs to the upper floor, but I quickly overruled such nonsense.  To plunge ahead without securing our flanks could have left us trapped and surrounded.  Apparently these people have never heard of Rahless Gorge.  That, or they are too foolish to learn from its lessons.

The downstairs footprints led along the hall, passing several doors as they went.  I briefly checked each room as we went, and in the fireplace of the second I uncovered a secret compartment that contained a small gem.  Immediately, the others - who had been complaining about 'delays' - became much more interested in searching as well.

I was far from surprised when, in the next room we entered, Troilan ducked past me and immediately scurried over to the fireplace.  She scurried out again just as quickly, whining that there was another compartment within, but that it was also home to a "huge spider".

Stepping past the fool of a girl, I thrust my hand up into the chimney, grasped the spider, and threw it out onto the floor of the room, where it was quickly crushed by the others.  I then removed another gem from the secret compartment.

There were no more items or dangers of note in the remaining rooms that we searched, until we reached the kitchen.  I did notice that the ceilings of many of the rooms appeared to be badly rotted, however.  When the time came to explore the upper storey, I would need to be careful.

At the end of the hall was the kitchen.  The footprints led into it, then a smaller chamber that was probably once the pantry, where they reached a trapdoor in the floor.  Once this had been examined and pronounced free of traps, I covered it with my crossbow while Brodnak stood behind it and pulled it open.

Once the trapdoor had swung all the way back, I moved forward, still covering the opening with my crossbow, in case someone was waiting, out of sight.  Thanks to my orcish blood, I was able to see clearly into the darkened cellar below, making out several ancient boxes and crates - and a man's body, sprawled face down in the centre of the room.


----------



## Lela

Reconnoitring, good word.   Though you have it spelled wrong, I have learned something new.

Still loving the "report" thing going on.  Makes it realistic.


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> *Reconnoitring, good word.   Though you have it spelled wrong, I have learned something new.*




I spelt it just fine   I'm just not American.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Lela said:
			
		

> *Reconnoitring, good word.   Though you have it spelled wrong, I have learned something new.*




If you go to the link at the top of the definition and click on the link that says "Get the Top 10 Most Popular Sites for "reconnoitering"" and go to #4.  A story about a violent takeover of a zoo by animal rights activists.

Well, it amused me, anyway.  

Great writing as always.   My only complaint is that there isn't more of it.


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I spelt it just fine   I'm just not American. *




Ah, that explains a it.  Then that was just for our American viewers at home.  (Who can likely already feel the tidbits of information slowly falling out of your brains.  And they like it.)


----------



## The Padre

Mantreus said:
			
		

> *
> That's true, he's done an excellent job of making Saltmarsh look like a real "hick" town. This doesn't wash well with Kull, his village was rather "hick" and he didn't aprove of that either. I think Zalich is a tad too urbane and world wise to put up wih it for long.
> 
> Of course that's just my opinion...  *





I think it's about time I stepped in and make a comment  

As some of you may be aware, I'm the Gm of this wonderful group.

In relation to the actual village of Saltmarsh, those of you who have access to the old U1-3 series may recollect that the actual town of Saltmarsh is not detailed but is recommended. Well I decided to detail it nicely, with a large variety of NPC to encounter and my idea was to make it a nice seaside village with really likeable people populating. It would seem, according to adventurers, that there is a really fine line between quaint and hicksville. Such is life. At this point I'm preparing the situation for the coup detate I'm sure is just around the corner.

Thanks everyone for reading about this by the way.

Dave


----------



## arwink

The Padre said:
			
		

> *It would seem, according to adventurers, that there is a really fine line between quaint and hicksville. *




*From the Dictionary of Zalich*

Quaint: A town of villagers who, when presented with news of impending doom, help you protect their home and hearth to the best of their meagre abilities and then shower gratitude upon you when you succeed.  

Hicksville: A town of villagers who, when presented with the news of impending doom, try and charge you for saving them and lay as many obstacles as possible between you and a job well done.

Note that Zalich doens't actually care about the award, all he wants is gratitude and a general assumption that the threat is serious enough to not charge us for saving them 

Also note that Zalich isn't actually as bloodthirsty as he appears in the game, he's just got a really low Charisma and tends to speak his mind.  He wouldn't dream of grinding the villagers into dust, but he's quite at home wishing it would happen.


----------



## Capellan

Clearly, steps have to be taken, for the community's own good.  The current leaders are quite clearly either inept, corrupt, or both.

None of which means that Kull plans an orgy of blood in the streets.  He has no plans for a coup d'etat.


arwink: are you ever going to update something other than Copperheads?


----------



## arwink

Capellan said:
			
		

> *arwink: are you ever going to update something other than Copperheads?   *




Eventually.  Mega-module will get updated when I'm convinced we'll start playing again, which could be a while knowing two of the players.  

I'll update here when I'm at work with large expanses of time to fill.  Probably in about two weeks.


----------



## Talix

Thanks for the update.  Still loving the flavor.


----------



## Krellic

Just found this and am enjoying it so far!


----------



## Lela

Okay arwink, you have new reader.  Better write something in his honor. 

*Crosses fingers*


----------



## arwink

Nice try, but it wont happen this week.  I have a break from teaching, and most of that's spent writing "stuff that will make me money," or packing all my stuff in preperation for moving next month 

Next week, when I'm back at Uni and have a long gap between classes, expect an update.


----------



## Lela

Alas, once agian my brilliant evil plans have failed!  Woe, woe, woe is me.  

Soon all evil will no longer respect me and I will be forced to take over small mini-marts, rathr than the world.

Alas and woe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Second Report - Part 2*

I led the way down into the cellar, following the trail of footprints to the far wall, where they appeared to walk straight into solid rock.  Knowing that there was doubtless a secret door present somewhere in the wall, I ordered Troilan forward, to search for it.

For a wonder, the girl obeyed: I had expected her to be busy looting the dead.  When I turned, however, I discovered the reason she was not - she had been beaten to the task by Brodnak.  The barbarian was already pawing through the man's belongings.  He is a fine warrior, but he lacks discipline: it is foolishness to search the fallen when the field of battle is not yet secured.

Suddenly Brodnak jerked back, bellowing "Worms!  Worms!"  It took a moment to see what caused his alarm, but then I spotted them: fat, white grubs that were burrowing into his hands.  I immediately moved to assist him, but even in that short time the creatures had disappeared beneath the skin.  Brodnak tried to cut the creatures out with his knife, but succeeded in doing little more than bloodying his blade with his own flesh.

Spotting more of the grubs emerging from the corpse, the druid conjured fire, and charred them to a crisp, though one managed to wriggle far enough to reach Troilan, and burrowed into her leg.

Seeing that fire killed the vermin, I thrust a burning torch against Troilan's wound.  She screamed and tried to jerk away, but I held her fast.  She swayed and almost blacked out - weakness - but the fire did its job, destroying the grub.

Brodnak too, was then held down, and a torch applied to his flesh.  Only once I was sure that he had been cleansed of the vermin did I allow him to stand again.  The druid healed Troilan's injuries, while I invoked Hextor's Will to relieve the burns on the barbarian's flesh.

Hale once more, Brodnak lost no time in turning the torch against the corpse, after first dowsing it in oil.  Only once the body was completely blackened, and the cellar was filled with the scent of burnt flesh, did he inspect the corpse once more.  The man's clothes and perishable items were destroyed by the flames, of course, but his armour and blade had survived unscathed.  Both looked of fine make, and the barbarian stowed them in his pack with a grunt of satisfaction.

In the mean time, I had set Troilan back on her task of finding the secret door; a task in which she duly succeeded, discovering a latch hidden behind a loose stone.

Once again, the others' lack of discipline would count against my efforts.  Although it was plain that anyone beyond the door must have become aware of our presence - accompanied as it was by the shouts of battle and the smell of burning flesh - the fool girl immediately activated the latch, and then she and Brodnak rushed toward the door, pushing it open without thought of what might lie beyond.

The instant the door swung open, a blast of multi-coloured washed over them, and they both crumpled silently to the ground.  From where I stood, I could just see the spell's source: a robed wizard, flanked on either side by armed men.

Over a dozen of them; and just three of us left standing.

I drew my flail and leapt forward, Hextor's name on my lips.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Woohoo!  First post!

Kull's amusing as always.  Now update the Company of the Random Encounter! Er, please?


----------



## arwink

*Zalich's Log, Entry Five* 


We knew the creature was coming back.  It hated the heat as much as I loathed the cold, so it was inevitable.  Badly wounded as everyone was, we had to keep it from turning of the furnace once again or we'd likely die from cold before the storm was over.

Some barricades were created around the two doors of the cellar, piled high with flamable debris so we could create flaming walls to drive the creature off.  Once this was done, it was a simple matter of waiting.

It didn't take long, and at midnight the creature returned to batter its way through the door.  I spent several long minutes, sitting by the furnace with my rolling pin in hand, waiting for the wood to splinter.  Eventually it did, and a carefully lobbed vial of oil from one of the others create a blazing bonfire in the creatures path.  It screamed, writing in pain, before fleeing into the shadows of the night.

The rest of the night was quiet, with the wounded rasping in the dim light of the furnace coals while those of us still conscious kept watch.  We'd destroyed the first door in the fire, which proved a sobering thought.  Whenever that creature returned, there was only one barricade between it and the furnace.  The bonfire tactic, effective as it had been, couldn't be tried again.

What sleep I had was fitfull and nervous, filled with shadowy images of drowning crew, burning flames and the cold touch of death.  It did little to inspire me.  I was roused in what I assume were the early hours of the day, I could no longer tell.  Very few people were looking healthy, even after healing magic was used to bring the unconscious back to the waking world.  Not a good sign, particularly with the ice ghoul still out there.  I made veryone a cup of tea to keep them warm, and double checked that the furnace was well stoked.

We set about formulating a plan.  Fire was probably our best bet, and it turned out a number of the adventuring types were carrying vials of oil.  I shudder to think why.  The vials were distributed among the others as best they could be, while I spent some time with my spell book.  I set aside my normal defensive magics, learning only an arcane shield that would last a single battle, then filled my head with as much magic as I could that would produce fire or energy that harmed the undead.  

We arranged ourselves around the room, the fire-hurlers in the corners, Brodnack watching the hall, and myself between the door and the furnace.  For hours we waited thus, our breath and fidgeting the only sound to be heard.  The fear I felt clenched at my soul, but I kept my mind on the need for warmth.  

Time lost its meaning during that wait, but eventually the wait was over.  We heard the creature storming down the stairs to the basement, saw Brodnack launch a javelin down the hall.  The creatre appeared in our view, unharmed, and Brodnack lept at it with his sword drawn, trying to slow it down.  It was still out of range of my fire, but I quickly raised my shield in preperation for its approach.  The arcane energy formed before me, a wall of energy that I prayed would keep me safe.  Brodnack and his sword proved little distraction to the Ice Ghoul, quickly being brought low by the creatures flailing fists.

it turned towards us, its red eyes glowing with hatred as it saw me standing before the furnace.  Around the room, people held small flames near the fuses of oil vials, ready to launch.  I summoned the words and gestures of a burning hands at the ready, and waited for the creature to charge.

It lurhced into the room, claws extended and a shriek echoing from its lips.  The smell of burning oil filled the room as vials were launched, some setting the creature alight and others crashing to the floor where they became puddles of fire.  I rattled off the words necessary for my spell, sending a sheet of flame forth from my fingertips, but the creature was quick enough to duck under the worst of the spell.  Even so, it's blue flesh showed some sign of scorching.

Then it was upon me, its claws hammering at my shield and it's fetid breath filling the air.  A wave of fear like nothing I've ever known hit me, telling me to flee, but memories of the ice-flow returned.  Once more I felt my hands numb and my feet turning blue, and I knew that if the choice came between standing up to the creature with my spells or fleeing to die in the cold, I'd rather it ripped me limb from limb in the warmth of the room.  I launched another spell, sent more flames burning forth, even as claws reached around the shield and tore through my flesh.  Fresh blood fell on the floor, mine, and I prayed a silent prayer of thanks that my years on the Silver Arrow had taught me more about pain than most spellcasters.  More oil flew through the air, the sound of an arrow hammering into the creatures side.  It's possible I cast another spell, another burning hands or a cantrip that disrupted the creatures essence, I don't know.  My attention was focused only on staying upright, on keeping the creature from the furnace and myself from the cold.  My world shrank to nothing but pain and determination.

And then the creature was gone, dropped by some mighty blow by one of the warriors.  I cared little for the hows and whys, only that it was done.

"Is it dead?" I asked.
"Yes." Someone answered.
That was all I needed to know.  With a resigned sigh, I sat down and shuddered as the pain and desperation I'd been ignoring hit home.

"I think I need a cup of tea," I said, then thought very seriously about fainting.


----------



## Talix

Great return to the scene, Arwink!


----------



## Lela

Arwink is all, Arwink is everything, Arwink is. . .

Uh, a good writer.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 2nd Report - Part 3*

Naturally, I leapt only as far as the door.  To go into that room would have been arrogance and foolishness: thankfully I had moved quickly enough to prevent any of the others from trying it.  At a natural chokepoint like this, I could easily hold back superior numbers, just as Peredion did at White River Crossing.

Like myself, the Druid had recognised the spell that had felled Brodnak and Troilan, and knew that they were merely unconscious, rather than dead.  He tried to rouse them.  The other female in the group - the quiet one - moved up to my side, just as the enemy charged.

It was a glorious battle.  Hextor's strength filled my heart and arms.  Every blow of my flail crushed one of the enemy to the ground, while their weak responses did no more than scratch my flesh.  Even when two huge gnolls came to their aid, they quailed back from me.  As well they might, for the gnolls fell as easily as the men had done.

The wizard, seeing his force being so easily destroyed, hurled his magic against me.  Three times I felt his spells try to chain my mind, and three times my faith shattered the bonds.  Truly, Hextor was with me.  I roared His name as the last of the warriors fled through a panel in the far wall, leaving the wizard alone.

Knowing that he could not stand against Hextor's will, the coward sought to flee, using magic to hide himself from sight.  But there could be no escape for him: by now the druid had revived the others, and I swiftly ordered them to each of the entrances of the room, blocking every exit that the wizard might seek.

Twice, he sought to dupe one of the others into abandoning their posts.  Each time, I bellowed an order for all to stand firm, and was obeyed.  At last they begin to recognise the wisdom of following sound commands.

Thwarted again, the wizard sought to negotiate, but he could offer us nothing we could not simply take.  He met the fate of all who oppose Hextor's will, and was crushed and destroyed.

Setting one of the others to guard the panel into which the warrior had fled, I led a search of the room beyond the secret door.  It quickly became evident that this was a smuggling operation, long established and well organised.  The inefficiency and ineptitude of the sheriff of Saltmarsh knows no bounds.  We also uncovered a small mount of treasure - no doubt the profits of their operation - and several items which had been imbued with magic.  Most precious of all, though, were instructions for signalling the smuggler's vessel.  Armed with those, we would be able to crush the rest of this illicit band.

Other than the panel and the secret door, there were two further exits from the area: one a flight of stairs that led into a ruined part of the house above, the second a door emblazoned with a hand-lettered sign: "Do Not Enter."

There could be no doubt that if the smugglers did not wish an area to be investigated, then we would have to do so.  Telling the others to ready their weapons, I threw open the door.

The door opened into a room which was filled with some half-dozen skeletons, each of which immediately animated and moved forward to attack.  Brodnak crushed one to powder almost immediately, but I was able to forestall the attacks of the others by raising Hextor's symbol and invoking His will.  Instantly the creatures fled back inside the room, except for two, which stood motionless, their blank eye sockets turned to me.

Animating the dead is a coward's trick; the action of one who fears to face combat himself.  I will never use such magic, myself.  But there is justice in turning the tools of a coward against him, and thus I ordered the pair into the room where their brethren had fled, with instructions to destroy the cowering creatures.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Wow.  That was a _good_ description of a battle.  I kept on getting images reminding me of the cutscenes from Warcraft III.  The Orcish Warleader bellowing orders, etc.


----------



## Lela

Well done Capellan.  An interesting view on animating the dead as well.  Keep making me think, I'm still working on that Hextor story line.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 2nd Report - Part 4*

My new minions made short work of the cowering skeletons.  With that done, I moved in and inspected the room in which they had been trapped.  This investigation quickly revealed yet another secret door: this ruin seems to be full of them.

Beyond the door was an ancient laboratory, obviously intended for alchemical studies.  The remains of the alchemist himself were still here.  An odd place to die, but perhaps one of his experiments caught up with him.

Naturally, it took only moments for the others to begin turning the room upside down in search of treasure, while I attended to the corpse of the alchemist.  Unlike the skeletons that no shadowed my steps, these bones were not animate, though they still clutched a book, and a small leather back.  I snapped away the finger bones and prised both items free.  The book - though damaged - appeared to be a spell tome, and would possibly be of use to Zalich, once he recovered from his clumsiness.  Given that we had also found the tome from the wizard we had fought, it seemed the Halfling would profit from our investigation, despite his absence.

The leather bag contained a stone, strangely carved, with an almost oily texture.  I tested it for magic and discovered that it was indeed enchanted with a transmutation effect, but could not determine any more.  I had planned to send it to the Church for investigation, but - as subsequent events were to show - it appears to have attuned itself to me, and cannot be taken by any other.  No doubt the only reason I was able to claim it was the death of the previous owner.

I have, however, hired a local artist to make sketches of the stone for your inspection.  These are enclosed with this missive.

In the meantime, the others had located several precious items under the layer of dust and cobwebs in the room.  It appeared the long dead alchemist had a passion for gold ornaments, and they were well pleased with this haul.

Given that most of the group had been injured in our fights, and that the hour was drawing late, I resolved that we should return to the village of Saltmarsh.  The items we had discovered could be traded for better equipment, and in a day or so it would be likely that Zalich would be able to accompany us in any further inspection of the ruins.  His knowledge of arcane lore might be useful in the alchemist's laboratory.

More important, however, was the fact that a meeting of the village council was scheduled to be held in just a few hours.  News of these smugglers must be presented to the authorities immediately, so that the proper steps could be taken to end their activities.  Thus, I ordered the two skeletons to stand guard on the panel through which the last smuggler had fled, then led the way back to town.

The news I brought to the council meeting caused a great deal of commotion, and it was some time before the Mayor got proceedings under control.  It was a disgraceful display of panic: were any real danger to threaten these people, they would collapse into abject terror, I am sure.

At last, the Mayor asserted enough control to disband the clamouring townsfolk, leaving only the council members to hear the details of what had been learned.  I explained the full details of what had been discovered, and presented the smugglers' documents as evidence of the operation's activities.  Presented with such a clear indication of the sheriff's incompetence, their first step should have been to choose a more vigorous appointee.  Naturally, this did not occur to them.

Instead, they offered a substantial reward if we were to undertake the Sheriff's job for him.  By this time, I was not surprised by this open acknowledgement of the man's cowardice and ineptitude, but I was surprised by the council's apparent acceptance of it.  It rapidly became obvious to me that they desperately needed the guiding hand of Hextor, if their community was ever to survive.  Thus, I accepted out of necessity what the others more rapidly accepted out of greed, and undertook to put an end to the smugglers' operation.


----------



## Lela

You just love this character, don't you.  He's so. . . LN.  But with an E twist that you never see in good aligned parties.  I mean without going totally Evil and/or getting killed off that is.

C'mon, write more.  I gotta know more of this. . .


----------



## Talix

I love the attitude with the undead!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 2nd Report - Part 5*

After the meeting with the council, I arranged for a local merchant to identify the magical items we had recovered.  This included the strange stone from the alchemist's lab, but this proved impossible, as the stone returned to my possession when I tried to leave it with the man.  I would attempt to send it with this message, but there is no reason to expect that the same thing will not occur.

After this was arranged, I returned to the inn to plan our next operation.  Zalich was much recovered from his accident and his skills would probably be available to us within a day: two, at most.  Brodnak, on the other hand, appeared to have sequestered himself with a local camp follower.  I was not unduly concerned: the barbarian had been unconscious throughout most of the battle in the cellar, but his absence had little affected our performance.

The smugglers would need a full moon for light, so I knew their ship would not return for seven days.  When they did, we would need to be in the house on the cliffs, ready to respond to their signal.  There was also the matter of the warrior who had escaped: might he return with allies, or perhaps attempt to warn his colleagues?  With these matters in mind, it was clear to me that I must lead another expedition to clear out the rest of the house, and discover where the last warrior had fled.  Only once the area was secure could we be ready to deal with the rest of the smugglers.

Thus, two days later I returned to the ruin, with most of the others.  Brodnak had still not reappeared from his dalliance, but I saw no reason to delay on that account - a judgement which proved correct.  There was little of any danger in what remained of the house, beyond a few rotten floorboards and a corrosive green slime that dripped onto the druid.  Both of these dangers were overcome without great difficulty.

There was also a prisoner, bound and gagged in one of the upstairs rooms.  He purported to be a simple traveller who had sheltered in the house from rain and been captured by the smugglers.  However, he seemed of very dubious character to me and I made it clear that he would not be welcome in Saltmarsh if he had any intent to cause a disturbance.

Apart from the upper storey of the house, which was decrepit and unsafe, we also explored the area into which the last smuggler had fled.  This proved to be a small complex of caves, leading down to a concealed cave at sea-level, complete with a boat that was doubtless used for bringing smuggled items ashore.  There was no sign of the fleeing smuggler: either there had been a second boat which he had use to flee, or - and this seemed more likely - he had fallen foul of the green slime in his panicked flight.

In any case, both the building and the caves below it have now been secured, and I am able to turn my attention toward the task of capturing the smugglers' vessel.  I shall report again once this objective has been achieved.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Lela

Sounds like he already fancies himself as sherif.  How much longer before you go for the hostle take over?


----------



## Talix

Not much longer, I'm thinking.    Except that by the time he's eliminated these threats, there will be bigger and better things to do in Hextor's name than herding the dull sheep that inhabit this town.


----------



## Lela

Talix said:
			
		

> *Not much longer, I'm thinking.    Except that by the time he's eliminated these threats, there will be bigger and better things to do in Hextor's name than herding the dull sheep that inhabit this town.   *




Which may trigger an "Occupation" force from the church of Hextor.  I'm sure they do that kind of thing all the time.  For the protection of the townsfolk of course.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 3rd Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
New Year

To:  Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

The smuggling operation has been crushed, but a greater danger threatens Saltmarsh: a threat which, no doubt, would have remained completely unknown had it not been for my arrival.  It is quite clear that the current authorities of the township have neither the ability nor the inclination to administer it in a manner that will provide proper security.  Clearly there needs to be much greater discipline established.

In our most recent meeting with the council, I made clear my contempt for their inept sheriff, and my belief that their lax behaviour has led them to the brink of destruction.  Faced with the evidence that had been found on the smugglers' vessel, they finally seem sufficiently shaken to listen to sound advice.

But I should present the events as they occurred, rather than leap to the conclusion.

As expected, the smugglers' vessel returned with the full moon, the time when they would have the most natural light available with which to work.  They signalled the house in the manner described by the documents found in the cellar, and I responded in kind.  Promptly, the vessel flashed the signal to approach, in order for the unloading of smuggled goods to begin.

My strategy for the operation - constrained as I was by the limited support available - was simple.  We would approach as close as possible to the vessel in a longboat we had found in the caves.  Then, once we were within range of the ship, the druid would invoke an obscuring mist, so that we could attempt to board without enduring a hail of arrows.  I did not like to trust so much to the druid's tricks, but my own magic would be needed for the fight itself.

The gravest threat to the success of the mission was lack of numbers.  Brodnak, apparently sulking that we had gone 'adventuring' without him, remained ensconced with his camp follower, and refused to emerge.  The village - whom we were acting to assist - could offer us only two excisemen as assistance.  A mission that required soldiers - or at least the sheriff - and they offered us _tax collectors_.

Having no desire to be encumbered with two non-combatants, I had directed the excisemen to stand away with their ship, observing the fight from a distance.  They would be signalled once the battle was over.

It took some time to row out to the smugglers' vessel: I freely admit that I am no trained seaman, and my skill with oars is lacking.  As we drew close, one of the men on deck called out to us, and I whispered the command for the druid to act.

I must confess, he completed this task with commendable skill: a blanket of mist dropped swiftly across both us and the near side of the ship, allowing us to row on until our boat scraped against the other vessel's hull.  Above, I could hear the cries of alarm as the smugglers readied themselves: evidently the druid had not acted quite quickly enough, and they had recognised that we were not their companions.

As if seeking to redeem his failure, the druid was the first to clamber up the side of the enemy ship, disappearing into the mists above.  It proved an ill-fated move: within seconds, he cried out, and there was a heavy thud as his body struck the deck.


Zalich, evidently deciding the druid's route was not safe, cast a spell and then ran along the side of the boat, his bare feet somehow clinging to the wood.  For myself, I quickly climbed onto the vessel, driving back the smuggler who had felled the druid.  Troilan - why is it always her? - joined me, with Julianne not far behind.

There was a brief lull; a few arrows fell near me, as the smugglers fired blindly into the mist, but nothing more.  I ignored them and bent to heal the druid's wounds.  I have no liking for him or his foolish faith, but he would at least distract one or two of the smugglers for a time, once the battle was properly joined.

One of the smugglers cast a spell into the mist, felling Troilan and Julianne, but it was nothing more than a sleeping charm, and I soon shook them both awake.  Meanwhile, Zalich had run back along the rail of the ship to find us.  Hearing from him that the enemy were lined along the far railing, I readied a spell, directing Zalich to move forward under its protection, and unleash one of his waves of flame against the smugglers.

The plan was interrupted, however, when a cry rose from the smugglers' leader:  "Charge!".


----------



## Lela

Talk about forshaddowing with a vengence.

You managed it Cap, I'm really wondering what is going on on that ship.  Think you'll pull an arwink and send us another update (or two)?


----------



## Talix

Seems like a working strategy so far...


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 3rd Report - Part 2*

The smugglers surged forward out of the mist.  The impact of the charge drove several of the others back against the rail.  Perhaps, had the enemy been able to see their targets when they advanced, some of my companions would have been swept into the sea.

As the shape of the first smuggler appeared in the mist, I smashed him to the deck with my flail.  More smugglers approached, however, leaping over the body as they came.  Here the mist played us false, for the quick death of their predecessor might have given them pause, had they seen it.

The battle fragmented.  I could hear the cries and curses of the others, fighting around me, but had neither time to answer, nor eyes that could pierce the mist to see.  One of the two I faced was obviously the more skilled, wielding both cutlass and sailor's hook with deft ability.  I focussed my attention on this greater threat, and we traded blows, while I fended off his companion's efforts with the buckler on my left arm.

He was skilled, this one: his blade came fast, again and again, and I soon bled from several minor cuts.  But he lacked my strength, and I twice drove my flail through his guard, my blows shaking him to his bones.  It was as fine a match as I have ever seen in the training yards; speed matched against power, while the deck grew slick with our blood.

And in the end, it was the blood that decided the day.  He lunged forward, trying to come inside my guard, and his feet slipped on the wet boards.  Off balance, he was for a moment at my mercy: I showed him none.  He fell to the deck, his spine shattered by my blow.

Now facing only a lesser opponent, and with the mist thinning as the druid's magic expired, I had a chance to take stock of the others.  On my right, I saw Zalich fumble a spell, frowning with a mild irritation as he did so.  Though he fought alone, he did not seem pressed: only two of the lesser warrior faced him, and neither seemed able to penetrate a faint blue shield that flickered between them and the halfling.  Meanwhile, on my left, the druid and Julianne battled a knot of smugglers, who were led by the finely-dressed figure of their captain.  Seeing that Troilan was - as usual - already unconscious, I decided that this was the more pressing fight, and went to their aid, pausing only long enough to invoke an orison of healing upon the fallen woman.

Felling one of the smugglers, I moved into the gap his fall had made, stepping ride into the midst of the melee.  There, Julianne faced the smuggler captain.  Before now, I  had counted the woman's greatest asset to be her silence; a welcome change from the constant chatter of the other female; but I have seen now that she has a genuine skill with the blade, for she was holding off the best of our adversaries.

To simply hold is not enough, however.  Hextor demands more: He demands victory, and I meant to have it.  Ignoring the lesser enemies that swirled around me, I smashed my flail into the captain's shoulder, sending his blade clattering to the deck.  He turned, snatching up the fallen weapon with his other hand, and slashed across my chest, adding another wound to those I had already suffered.

His men also struck at me, and I felt fresh cuts on my arm and left leg, but nothing would deny me: I feinted with my flail, and as he swept his blade to parry, I stepped closer to the captain and drove my fist into the pit of his throat.  The spikes of my gauntlet tore open his flesh, and for a moment he hung there, his wide eyes staring into mine, before his head tilted back and his corpse slid from my hand.

For a moment, the enemy wavered, but then their mage cast another spell, two bright darts of energy flying through the air to slam into Julianne's chest.  Already injured by the captain, she fell to this wound, and the remaining smugglers surged forward in one last attack.  I slew one, but a second found a gap in my armour, scoring the flesh across my ribs.  At last, the culmination of my injuries overcame me, and I fell, slipping into darkness.


----------



## Lela

It's amazing how I know almost nothing about the other characters.  I'm impressed by it, actually.  Capellon, you do an excellent job of holding true to your medium.

But, oh, what hides under the deck?  What waits. . .


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 3rd Report - Part 3*

When I recovered consciousness, I found myself in one of the ship's cabins.  I was unsure of how much time had passed, but it was obviously several hours, for daylight flooded the room from the portholes in the walls.  Hearing the sound of voices from the deck, I arose and went forth to discover what had occurred.

In short order, it emerged that the battle against the smugglers had been won.  Then, although they were the only ones left standing, Zalich and the druid had decided to explore the rest of the vessel.  This despite the fact that the druid was already badly injured.  Apparently they had assumed that the noise of battle would have attracted anyone on the ship, and it would thus be safe to continue.

This assumption proved incorrect.  The very first chamber they entered proved to belong to three lizardfolk, which promptly attacked them.  Somehow, Zalich survived the resulting melee, but the druid was killed.  A fitting result for his recklessness.  Why the lizardfolk would be aboard, and why they had not emerged during the battle, was not yet known, though Zalich theorised that - due to their distinctive appearance - they must have been told to stay hidden until one of the crew came for them.

After reprimanding Zalich for his reckless action - I had expected him to show more sense - I learned more of events that had passed while I was unconscious.  Having realised the folly of exploring further on his own, the Halfling had signalled for the village excisemen to come alongside, then sent them back to the village for supplies and assistance in bringing the vessel to port.  This process was now well underway, some twelve hours after our battle.

As Julianne and Troilan were now also awake, it was reasonable to resume the aborted search, and I began a thorough examination of the ship.  This search uncovered a sea-elf, imprisoned in a concealed cell near the front of the vessel, as well as several chests of valuables that doubtless belonged to the smuggler leaders.  We stockpiled the valuables for appraisal and sale, and released the elf, once I was sure he was not a threat to the village.  Additionally, there proved to be a large cache of weapons, liquor and other high-value goods in the hold.  I claimed these as spoils of battle, and made arrangements to pay the required customs charge to bring the goods ashore for sale.  Zalich also claimed the vessel itself, which was ours by right of capture, but had to agree to pay the value of a share in the ship to the villagers who were bringing it into port.  It seemed that - rather than being grateful for our assistance in ending the smuggling - Saltmarsh viewed our actions as simply an opportunity to make profit.

My final discovery, however, soon turned this complacent greed into fear and concern: a scroll penned by the leader of a lizardfolk clan, arranging 'more shipments of weapons' for his people, and a map showing the camp of the creatures as being located only a day's travel from the village.

An entire army of lizardfolk, stockpiling weapons within twenty miles of the village, and they had not a clue of what was occurring.  I have said it before, but it bears repeating: the inefficiency and ineptitude of the sheriff of Saltmarsh knows no bounds.

Upon my return to the village itself, I wasted no time in presenting the evidence I had found to the council, and making it clear what I thought of their lack of watchfulness and care for security, as well as the flagrant inability of their sheriff.  Incredibly, the council did not dismiss the sheriff for his failure, but instead appealed for us to eliminate the lizardfolk on their behalf.

Naturally, I refused.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

*Re: Kull's 3rd Report - Part 3*



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> Incredibly, the council did not dismiss the sheriff for his failure, but instead appealed for us to eliminate the lizardfolk on their behalf.
> 
> Naturally, I refused. *




Hah!  That is so very, very Kull.

Death of a PC!  I know Kull doesn't give a spit, but I'd like details.  What happened, and how was it dealt with OOC?

Oh, and what ever happened to arwink?  I'd love to get this from Zalich's perspective, especially the death of the druid.


----------



## Capellan

*Re: Re: Kull's 3rd Report - Part 3*



			
				Thomas Hobbes said:
			
		

> Death of a PC!  I know Kull doesn't give a spit, but I'd like details.  What happened, and how was it dealt with OOC?
> 
> Oh, and what ever happened to arwink?  I'd love to get this from Zalich's perspective, especially the death of the druid.




*Death of the Druid*
The druid died pretty much as described: he and arwink decided to go exploring (while we unconscious folk stared at them in amazement), opened the first door they came to, and ended up in a melee with 3 lizardmen.  Zalich had mage armour and shield going, so he was almost untouchable.  The druid, howeevr, took a spear to the gut and went down, missed the next four stabilisation checks, and bled to death while Zalich slowly whittled away the three lizardfolk with his rolling pin.

arwink may remember details more completely than I; and I am sure Zalich has his own interpretation of events; but that's it in a nutshell.

OOC, the druid's player subsequently got a busier weekend work schedule, and couldn't make it to any further games.  We eventually got a replacement ... but you'll learn about him (and Kull's opinion thereof) at a later date 


*Where is arwink?*
Mainly, he seems to be off writing updates to Copperheads.   Hopefully he will rejoin us soon to offer some more of Zalich's perspective, especially as we have reached events at which he was present (he missed the session where we had the fight in the cellar).

Also, he may be spreading out his updates to allow him some opportunity to post while I am away (I am going to the UK and US on holiday for 5 weeks, starting 28 June), without actually getting ahead of Kull's version of events.


----------



## arwink

The short version:

Everyone else was unconscious, we did a quick stocktake of the bodies on board, and figured that anything left probably would have come topside when the fighting started if it was capable of swinging a weapon.  I'm sure it was probaby my suggestion that we scout below-deck, cause it's the kind of thing I'm wont to do, but the druid raised very little opposition to the idea.  The fact that I still had a flickering Shield and Mage Armor up, full hit points and a very bloody club probably boosted my confidence a little as well.

Unfortunately, the first room we opened held lizard men and they got mildly peeved.  Three of them.  

Again, Zalich was mostly fine, but for some reason I had a brain spasm and moved my massively armored body (AC 23 or so, from memory) out of the doorway.  They immediately took the opportunity to spear the Druid, and I spent the next couple of rounds fighting off scaly-kind rather than bandaging wounds.  Essentially, I didn't realise how close to death he was.  The DM's clue "He starts to gurgle," was interpreted by me as "Right, close to death, should probably bandage him in a round or two."  It was meant to be interpreted as "he's on -10, and will die if you do nothing."

One of those moments where years of DMing backfires when you're a player - you get used to your own shorthand and verbal clues.  It's only the second session I'd actually been a player in for the space of a few years, so these things happen.

As for Zalich's updates - put their absence down to way to many storyhours to write up and an overabundance of work.  The good news is that I've got a month and a half off starting in two weeks, and I'm devoting a good week of that to getting all three storyhours I'm writing up to date.  Or, at least, get enough sitting in a word file that I can update regularly.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Thanks for the prompt reponse, the both of you.   I'm looking forward to your updates in the coming weeks, and I'm off to check out the Copperheads storyhour now, out of curisoisty.


----------



## Lela

Honestly, I was even starting to get annoyed by this village. Kull's made several excellent points. Besides which, what right does this village think they have to the ship? They didn't do anything to secure it. At worst they had several civilians get cold sitting on a ship one night. If those guys want a hot drink and 10 gp each (more than they've ever seen, I'm sure) fine. Greedy buggers but fine.

Then, after the group has risked they're lives to help the town (too the point of actually loosing one of their own members), discovered a plot to destroy said town, and been financially screwed in the process, they not only ignore the concerns brought up by the party (whom they claim to hold in high regard) but ask them to bail them out again.

Okay adventurers, enough's enough. These towns have become complacent because of us. Whenever something bad happens, a band of good guys shows up and stops it. They used to pay well for it. Free room and board, some cash, maybe a few weapons (if we needed it), and free healing form the local cleric. It slowly turned into some cash for our services. We can buy our own rooms and food. Weapons? Pah, if we needed weapons we could buy our own. And free healing (from a supposed Cleric of a goodly god)? Forget that, it's your job to rid the world of evil. I just get you to pay me.

Who would have thought it would (or even could) get worse? Of course it did, though many didn't expect it. The money paid started to disappear. Less and less came from the town and more "We're just poor people who need help" speeches came form town councils (the members of which just don't happen to have any calluses on their hands). After all, we can always get the funding we need from the evil guys we kill, right? And we'll earn the respect of the town too. Of course, being the good guys, we agree.

But, as we've seen, the pesents in those towns are filled with more greed than you'd expect. Even the respect they promised is starting to fade away. And with it the capital gathered from the evil guys we protect them from. "Importation" taxes applied only to us. The town starts claiming some of the profits. We get 90%. No, make that 75. Wait, a 50/50 split sounds better. On second thought, we should get 75 and you can take 25. After all, the smugglers were defiling our land, the money really is rightfully ours. . .

It won't end unless we do something. Stand up to these towns, remind them that we're here to help them. To do that, we can't be working all day in the fields in order to simply eat. What happens when something bigger and badder comes along? When that dragon shows up and we can't afford to even buy a sword that will cut through its armor or fund the material components needed for our spells, what happens then?

Adventurers have money for a reason. It's there to help them help the innocents more. It's there to allow them to fight for the lives of others without having to worry about digging wells to feed our families.

If everyone could do this job, you wouldn't need us. Help us out a little. Remember, without us, you probably wouldn't be here.


----------



## arwink

Lela said:
			
		

> *Honestly, I was even starting to get annoyed by this village. *




Wait until you hear Zalich's thoughts on the villagers.  He's beyond annoyed 

"You want us to pay you *how much* to save your village?  Are you insane?  Do you not realise that we are heroes?  Do the words "Total anihilation and mass geonacide" mean less to you than "potential for profit"?  Sod it.  You're all stupid.  Let your village get razed to the ground.  I don't care.  I've got better things to do with my time, and the death of every last one of you will be doing the human race a favor. When whatever it is that's attacking is done, I'll come sow salt into the soil so nothing grows here ever again, on the off chance that if something did grow people would feel the need to move here and fill in the void left by your absence and there's a chance, no matter how remote, that your stupidity may be ingrained in the bloody ground itself.  I *hope* you bloody well die."


----------



## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> <Snip>
> *
> 
> "I *hope* you bloody well die." *




Even Zalich's tired of these guys.  If they want to live, they can either depose their council and start being resonable or they can leave town.  Perhaps the church of Illmatyr will be willing to suffer like this.


----------



## Joshua Randall

Heh. The funny thing is that this attitude of the Saltmarsh villagers is exactly what the module describes. Yes, the sherrif is incompetent. Yes, the council is afraid to act. And yes, the entire village is blissfully unaware that it is surrounded by enemies.

Most adventurers wouldn't call the Saltmarshians on it. But Kull is not like most adventurers, is he?


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Lela, you should post that in General Discussion. I'd love to see what comments you'd get!


----------



## Capellan

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> *Most adventurers wouldn't call the Saltmarshians on it. But Kull is not like most adventurers, is he? *




I can't take all of the credit (blame?) on this point.  Kull found himself in the decidedly odd role of 'good cop' in this scene.  At least, good relative to Zalich. 

Of course, Kull's idea of 'good cop' is to make open references to "your women and children ending their days in the larders of flesh-eating lizardmen" 

I do feel kinda sorry for the DM, though.  He actually wanted us to _like_ these people!


----------



## Lela

Tallarn said:
			
		

> *Lela, you should post that in General Discussion. I'd love to see what comments you'd get! *




I would but somehow I just don't have the energy to edit it (read: A lazy bum who doesn't want to try).  To those unfamiler with the Story Hour, much of it just wouldn't make sense.

Of course, if Capellan would allow me to repost that last section of update, I might pop it up.


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> *Of course, if Capellan would allow me to repost that last section of update, I might pop it up. *




Be my guest.  Don't forget to link the story hour, too - might generate some new readers


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Be my guest.  Don't forget to link the story hour, too - might generate some new readers  *




Ah, everyone here that?  Capellan invited me in.  Now we'll see about that little bulging juglular vain. . .

As for the rest of you, consider It Posted.


----------



## Joshua Randall

Now that I think about it, this whole "townsfolk treat the wandering adventurer badly, then regret it when he has to save them from the bad guys" has a kind of Wild West feel to it. Maybe we shoud all watch the movie _High Noon_ for inspiration.


----------



## Talix

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - the personalities _totally_ make this storyhour come to life.    How refreshing it is to have a splash of realism in gameplay!  Hmm, go take on an entire *army* for the town that just charged us taxes to sell the stuff we got defending them from various threats?  Hmm, let me think about that...


----------



## (contact)

Great topic, Lela.  It's always funny to see these old school modules bump up against the new school attitudes.

Adventuring taxes are still a great idea, tho.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 3rd Report - Part 4*

The pathetic, spineless attitude of the villagers could not be allowed to continue.  Faced with clear evidence that their homes are under risk of attack - an attack of which their so-called sheriff was unaware - their only response was to offer money for someone else to deal with the problem.  To rely on a handful of outsiders to protect _their_ homes.  These were not people: they were sheep.

I demanded to know what the Council proposed to do, to provide for the security of the town.  The mayor made some snivelling excuse about only having a handful of trained men.  As if this was not a problem of their own making!  The village has some hundred able-bodied adults, all of whom could - and should - have received a measure of training, long ago.  I informed the council that I would not even consider their offer until they met my conditions:

* they must immediately institute compulsory weapons training for all adults in the village.
* they must develop an emergency plan, outlining what should be done in the event of an attack on the village.  This plan must then be communicated to everyone in the town, including the children.
* they must send a warning to their overlords, outlining the threat and appealing for an increased military presence in the area.

Despite the fact that these conditions were clearly in their own best interests - and my restraint in not demanding the sheriff be dismissed - the Council only agreed to meet them after a clear show of reluctance.

With these matters resolved, I began to discuss the details of the mission.  Clearly we had to set off immediately, before the lizardfolk realised that their weapons shipment had been intercepted.  Every delay raised the chances that they would realise what had occurred and launch their attack on the village.  Noting from maps of the region that the land-route to the enemy's encampment would require a long and difficult march through swamps, in which we could be out-manoeuvred or even ambushed by the lizardfolk, I made mention that we would need the use of a boat, so that we could reach our target as swiftly as possible.

The council's response was to demand four hundred gold for this 'service'.

At this point, Zalich almost had to be physically restrained from assaulting the council members.  He unleashed a furious torrent of abuse that clearly demonstrated how he felt about the village's most recent attempt "to gouge us for what is apparently the privilege of assisting" them.  I have never seen the Halfling so worked up about anything, before.  He ended with an emphatic declaration that he would not assist the town any further.

After making it clear to the council that we would not tolerate any further attempts to charge us for items necessary for the mission, I spoke with Zalich and persuaded him to accept the offer of employment from the council, who had hurriedly increased the offered reward for our assistance: something that they would not have needed to do had their attitude been more reasonable from the start.

Since it seemed clear that we could not trust the council to undertake any task unsupervised, it was agreed that Troilan would go with their messengers to the local capital, to advise the authorities of the danger to the town and request assistance.  I had little more confidence in the girl than in the villagers, but she at least had been involved first hand in out battles, and more importantly her departure would have the least impact on the effectiveness of the group.  Although an adequate combatant against a distracted opponent, she had neither the strength nor the skill to stand against a trained enemy, and her impulsive nature would likely cause more difficulties than her skills would solve.

Once the agreement with the council was finalised, I met with the local merchant in magical items and arranged for him to identify the purpose of the items we had found aboard the ship.  Zalich attempted to purchase the identification spell from the man, but he refused, no doubt more concerned about his financial well-being than anything else.  A typical denizen of Saltmarsh, in other words.

Finally, I went to Brodnak's quarters and hammered on the door until the barbarian could ignore me no longer.  Once he finally emerged, I told him of the mission, and warned him to be ready at first light.

No doubt we will have need of his axe in the mission ahead.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Morte

Way to go, Kull. Give 'em what for.


----------



## (contact)

Oy vey.  Whatta bunch of pultroons.  I'm usually pretty much the populist when it comes to poor ol' low-level commoners getting extorted and bullied by the Strangers With Enough Firepower to Level Our Village, but lordha'mercy, _what's wrong with these people_?!

Of course, the expectation that the adventurers will grow very, very rich fighting on the village's behalf is based in D&D fact . . . maybe they should have grovelled a bit more, and asked for a tenth share of treasure found, in exchange for an open-ended aid and services arrangement?

Heh, heh.  Hextor.  (salutes)


----------



## dpdx

Ah, OK, _this_ is what that whole thread was about. It sounded like Lela was in a PbP game where this happened.


----------



## Lela

dpdx said:
			
		

> *Ah, OK, this is what that whole thread was about. It sounded like Lela was in a PbP game where this happened. *




Sorry, didn't mean to do that.  Feel free to read the Story Hour though.  Cap won't mind.


----------



## Capellan

In four days, I will be climbing on a plane and starting a 5 week holiday.  Huzzah! 

Of course, this also means that there will be no story hour updates from Kull in that time.  I'm hoping that arwink might actually post some updates from Zalich during that time, however.  So hopefully the place won't be completely bereft of activity while I am gone! 

Anyone planning on attending Gencon should drop me a line (not on this thread, please; my e-mail is in my profile).  This may be the only year I ever go, so I'd like to meet as many ENworlders as possible while I'm there.


----------



## Talix

I'm actually surprised that you decided to go along with helping the village after all.  What do you think the odds of them actually instituting that training program are?  

Nice update, and have fun!

Now, if we can just get some updates from the other side...


----------



## Lela

Talix said:
			
		

> *I'm actually surprised that you decided to go along with helping the village after all.  What do you think the odds of them actually instituting that training program are?
> *




I'd say they're pritty good once Hextor's priests and warriars show up.  This town only thinks it knows the meaning of Lawful. . .


----------



## arwink

Capellan goes on holidays to the other side of the world, and I still get e-mails reminding me that I haven't updated storyhours.  It's been a while, but without further ado:

*Zalich's Log, Entry Six *

I slept for a good while after we defeated the ice creature, shivering below my blanket as I tried to fight off the memory of its chilling touch.  We were still in bad shape, with battered warriors aplenty, but at least we had warmth and an easily defensible spot we could use to wait out the storm.  This is the thought that comforted me through nightmare after nightmare of sleet and ice-flows, the cold fears of my past rising up in the quiet place where dreams dwell.  Warmth and safety were within our grasp, and no snowstorm can last forever.  A life at sea and six hours on an ice flow quickly teaches you that there is no greater thing that a respite from danger.

Unfortunately, I discovered that a life of adventuring and the slow deterioration of my companions wits taught them that there is no greater thing than an empty ruin to explore and the possibility of certain death lurking around the next corner.  I was cooking a quick breakfast throughout the discussion, so I'm not sure whose idea it was, but as I served a warm bowl of gruel and bacon to my new-found companions it was explained that the upper levels of the ruins must be cleansed of danger.  Their logic was that our food couldn't last forever, but such foolishness is ever idiocy disguised as pragmatism.  I tried to point out that I could stretch our food supplies well past the slim predictions they were using as motivation, even with the veracious appetites of two half-orcs and a Brodnak taken into consideration, but my years of skill as cook and quartermaster evidently mean nothing in the face of certain death.  With a jaunty enthusiasm that bothered me, the sword wielding maniacs headed for the stairs.

The second story of the ruins provided shambling dead and cold.  The dead spent much of their times in ruined rooms, not roaming, which only proved the foolishness of further exploration.  What is worse is the annoying habit my enthusiastic companions had of rushing through the doorway to attack.  Often they bunched up, obscuring any sight of the creature that was slashing and pounding its way free.  I spent much of my time in hallways, rubbing the frostbite of my feet and dreaming of the warm cup of tea I could be drinking while waiting for the storm to end.  I had spells aplenty memorised that could have helped in bringing down the dead, but all would have been blocked by my companions bodies.  They are muscle-bound and, I'll admit, skilled with their blades, but they have no grasp of tactics and little practice in working with a wizard of any kind.  

It took several hours to clear the second story, and I hoped that we would be done with the foolishness of "exploring" and "purging" by this time.  Unfortunately, there is a streak of perverse enthusiasm that accompanies the lack of sense any adventurer has.  There remains another set of stairs, and despite the light wounds many of my companions suffered, we were committed to climbing them.

I followed along to the third story, where a large chamber with statues and twin doors dominated.  The wind still raged outside, bringing flurries of snow drifting through broken windows, but the storm was noticeably lighter than it had been.  When I went to point this out, I found the others locked into a discussion as to how they'd get through the doors.  

Troilan was quick to volunteer for the duty, claiming some skill with locks, and it was decided that this was the best course of action.  It was trouble, of course, we all knew that. Any idiot could see that this chamber was something important, and highly likely to be trapped, but the possibility of treasure seemed to spur everyone on.

Troilan crouched by the locks, a series of picks and hooks slipping into the small mechanism.  With the confident tone Troilan had used when boasting of her prowess with locks, I'll admit I was surprised when she failed to jimmy them open.  Less surprising, however, was the sudden animation of the wooden statues when the doors were tampered with.  

People sometimes ask what comes first, the chicken or the egg.  A more telling question would be to consider what come first - the trapped door, or the fools who think it's a good idea to trigger the trap and steal whatever's beyond.  I'm sure there's a whole host of specialists out there who would go broke if adventurers such as my new companions ceased to exist.


----------



## Lela

Dang, Zalick's got character.  I love the feel of that guy.  So much depth.

You've got to write more about him Arwink.  I believe it's homework too.


----------



## arwink

_*Zalich's Journal, Entry Seven*_

When the trauma's of the ruined monastery began, I wondered if there could be anything more frightening than the half-orcs that had accompanied my fellow survivor to the sure.  Between the worship of nature's fury and the devotion to the discipline of Hextor, it seemed as though no other member of our small group could surpass their imposing sense of danger and bloodshed.

I'm not afraid to admit that I was wrong.  

As Troilan scampered from the doors, squealing about the suddenly moving statues, Brodnak drew his great sword and leapt forward.  He screamed like a wild animal, specks of spittle flying from his mouth.  For a moment I thought he'd uttered some war-cry I wasn't familiar with, but the incoherent ranting continued as he hammered into the statue with a blow that would drop any ordinary man.  I have seen men fight for their lives before, but nothing prepared me for the unceasing savagery of the warriors attack.


The foolishness of our actions in exploring further is only highlighted by the fact that only Kull and Troilan leapt forth to aid the barbarian in his hand-to-hand struggle with the statues.  The animated creatures were impervious to most of our weapons, and Kull had to drop his shield and most of his defences to even stand a chance of punching through the statues hardened surface.  

I did emerge from the stairwell with my rolling pin clenched in my hands, but the strength of a halfling is meaningless against a living statue and the only other weapon I had available, flasks of acid I kept handy in case of scrag attacks, would likely do little beyond burning my new comrades.  It was a gruesome fight to watch, with mortal flesh being bruised and battered by fists of stone, but soon the savagery of Brodnak and Kull won out.  Their claims of victory were heartfelt, but the reality of their wounds was hard to ignore.  

The locked doors were attacked once again by Troilan's lockpicks, and this time her skill was enough to beat the mechanism.  The room beyond was plain, filled with what remained of an Abbot's chamber.  More importantly, when we peered through the door it was the first chance I'd had to notice the storm had abated during the turmoil of the fight with the statues.  We were free of the ruined monastery as soon as we dared explore further.

It will never surprise me the narrow focus that the tall folk have when they set their mind to it.  While I was still marvelling at the sky clearing above us, they set their mind to looting the ruined chamber as thoroughly as they could.  They turned up a small amount of treasure, as well as a cloak of elven make.  The quality of the workmanship was unmistakable to the trained eye, and it was quickly taken by Troilan as an aid to her scouting and stealth.  There was some stitching along the hem that identified the cloak as a gift from the elves to someone important, but none of my comrades thought this detail important enough to pursue.  It would appear that adventurers embrace the laws of salvage with more gusto than the common sailor.  Not until the last of the loot had been distributed and the speculation of its value finished did they notice that the path to freedom was now open to us once more.

Tall-folk.  Sometimes you have to wonder at their priorities.  Where they thought we'd spend our new-found wealth if we died in the ruins is beyond me.Still, this wasn't enough to dishearten me.  The storm was over, and on the morrow we would search for some sign of civilisation or transport that would return us to civilisation.  Then I would be free of adventurers and their foolishness, ready to sign on to a new ship with a new destination of the horizon.

Of course if I'd known that our discovery of a boat and escape from the island would lead us to the town of Saltmarsh, I'd likely have burned the vessel before the others found it and take my chances with the corpses in the monastery for the next few months until help came.

If nothing else, the dead would have shown more common sense.


----------



## Lela

You know, I'm starting to wonder exactly what items and cash Zalich got.  It seems convieniently left out. . .


----------



## arwink

From memory, Zalich got some cash.  A couple of hundred gold all up, and he looked suitably bewildered when people handed it over.

on the whole, however, he didn't really notice items unless they were magic or interesting, and the elven cloak was both


----------



## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> *From memory, Zalich got some cash.  A couple of hundred gold all up, and he looked suitably bewildered when people handed it over.
> 
> on the whole, however, he didn't really notice items unless they were magic or interesting, and the elven cloak was both  *




LOL


----------



## arwink

_*Zalich's Journal, Entry Eight*_

What needs to be said about Saltmarsh that one could understand my retelling of what came next?  How does one speak of a town that has earned such disbelief and irritation with its attitudes and general ineptness?  I'm not sure that I can convey such things correctly, but I will try.

At first the place seemed a godsend.  After three days trapped by the storm, and several more spent repairing an ageing boat near the monastery to enable our escape from the isle we were stranded on, any sign of civilisation was welcome.  As we trudged along the trail that lead into town we marvelled at the site of clustered buildings, shepherds tending flocks and the marvellous sight of modern docks with fishing boats clustered.  Despite the rain that seemed to soak us through to the very skin, Saltmarsh was a welcome stop-over in our journey back to civilisation.

Sometimes, we become enthused for the most idiotic of things, and after days of deprivation even stagnant water will appeal to a thirsty man.  Had we been in more alert and cognitive state of mind, I'm sure we would have seen Saltmarsh for what it was - a backwater town clinging to the edge of a loathsome swamp, filled to the brim with ungrateful fools to stupid to realise that life was better elsewhere.  I think Kull, at least, may have noted something akin to that as we approached as I heard him sniffing about the lack of defences and town guard, but even he seemed relatively pleased to see human beings once more (in a threatening and angry kind of way.  Kull is a harsh man, or Orc if you will, but I'm sure there's a pleasant and decent man beneath the surface regardless of his abrasiveness).  

Even with our expectations so badly warped by isolation, we might have paid more attention to the omens of ill luck that surrounded the town.  The rain didn't stop for as long as we stayed there, and my first action upon stepping onto the slick town paths was to slip and damage my shoulder badly enough that I would spend the next week bedridden.  Spells would be beyond my abilities, at least the ability to cast with any reliability, which is always a bad sign for a wizard no matter what his stature and skill.  Of course, I failed to see this for the omen it was, instead rejoicing through my pain when I realised I would be spared any further contact with my companions from the shipwreck.  "At last," I thought to myself as I convalesced in a room rented from the local inn, "I'll let myself heal, perfectly safe from the expectation of further _adventure_, and when I'm well I'll hire onto a passing ship and escape the fools forever."

My incapacitation didn't over-ride years of training, though, and while I recovered I spent a great deal of time expanding on the sudden awareness of my own skills that had awakened while I was in the monastery.  I mastered the use of at least two new spells, one that would allow me to channel a shock of raw energy through my very touch and another that raised a shield of magical energy to protect me from foes.  

When I was sure I'd mastered the long forgotten techniques taught to me by my master, I moved on to the task of scribing scroll after scroll.  While there was little need for such items on the ship's I'd been travelling on previously, the shipwreck had taught me to be prepared for all eventualities - never again would I be without the power to defend myself should such an event happen again.  

In the spare pages of my spellbook I even went so far as to jot notes of new spells I'd prepare to master, trying to bend the techniques I had memorised to their utmost, as well as exploring some way of melding the heating magic of my cantrips to a mundane kettle.  All of this was beyond my current skills, but the tingling sense of anticipation at mastering new knowledge set me planning for things I had long ignored.  At some point during my recovery, it occurred to me that my adventures had awakened a sudden desire to learn more about my spells and powers - the simple life of a cook and alchemist wouldn't satisfy as much as it once had.

Perhaps this is why, after my arm had healed and I was free to explore the town once more, I set out to find Kull, Brodnack, Troilan and the others and offered to help them in the mission they'd adopted.  They seemed please to see me, and even went so far as to hand over some spellbooks they'd recovered from evil wizards they'd battled over the past week.  

"There are smugglers in yonder hills," Kull explained (although I render his speech more prosaic here than it is in real life, in an effort to represent the inner man rather than the gruff exterior).  The others were enthused with the plan of returning to some ruined house and flushing out the rest of the sea-scourge they'd discovered, but Brodnack disappeared with a strumpet he'd somehow taken a fancy too.  There was a look of idiotic love in the young man's eyes, and I knew the heartache that he was destined to feel in the near future.

A life on the sea teaches you such things, you understand.  With so many of us taking to the waves to avoid the memories of the lost or unrequited, you soon find the signs of trouble easy to spot.  We would not see Brodnack for several days, by which time he had a lighter purse and a taint of civilisation in his innocent barbarian worldview.


----------



## Capellan

arwink said:
			
		

> I think Kull, at least, may have noted something akin to that as we approached as I heard him sniffing about the lack of defences and town guard, but even he seemed relatively pleased to see human beings once more (in a threatening and angry kind of way.  Kull is a harsh man, or Orc if you will, but I'm sure there's a pleasant and decent man beneath the surface regardless of his abrasiveness)




Kull certainly sees himself as being a decent person.  Pleasant is taking thng  litle too far, however 



> "There are smugglers in yonder hills," Kull explained




I believe my wording was actually "There are smugglers in the ruins: we're going to kill them."


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I believe my wording was actually "There are smugglers in the ruins: we're going to kill them." *




A lot.  You're going to kill them a lot.


----------



## Joshua Randall

Or as (contact) would put it:

_You're going to kill the *Eric's Grandma* out of them._


----------



## arwink

*Zalich's Journey, Entry Nine* 

The smugglers hide-out turned out to be an abandoned building not far from the town, on a bluff overlooking the sea.  Experience led me to guess that there would be caves below, at see level, as it would make getting good in and out of the area easier and less noticeable than carting them up and down a cliff face.

The others explained that the smugglers had been using an illusionist to create the pretence that the house was haunted, a task which likely would have worked on anyone except the dauntless fools who call themselves adventurers and live only to risk the gift of life.  Their previous foray had cleared much of the upper levels, and some caves below, but it had also garnered Kull some followers in the form of two zombies that he'd left guarding the building.

There is nothing that can describe the feeling that comes when you realise an ally is willing to use the dead for his own ends.  I raised some concerns, which Kull dismissed with the argument that he hadn't been the one who animated them, but I confess that I still felt uneasy.  Pragmatism is one thing, but the desecration of the soul is a serious offence and should not be written off with slick arguments and justifications.

It was decided that the upper levels should be explored first, although they proved to be relatively clear.  There was a bound and naked traveller in one of the rooms the adventurers had failed to clear on their last trip, but his story was dubious and he seemed intimidated by the wandering corpses that accompanied us.  He tried time and again to convince us that he was a traveller, waylaid by the householders, but his demeanour screamed smuggler and we were reluctant to arm him.  Without proof, we couldn't slay him out of hand, so eventually we ran him off and told him to head towards the nearest city if he wanted to live.

The floor of many of the upper levels were weakened with age, making it perilous for my more heavily armoured companions to tread the boards - something that was discovered when Kull and his heavy banded armour took a brief dive through a weak patch of floor.  

I was nominated to explore due to my light weight, but I took the added precaution of casting a _spider climb_ and avoiding the decayed floor altogether.  We found the location where the smugglers signalled their fellows for pickup, as well as a room that contained a giant spider web, but both of these were insignificant challenges compared to the ancient buildings attic.  

We explored this level with reluctance, and almost paid for our curiosity with our life.  Stirges nested there, bloodsucking insects of unusual size.  They stole a great deal of blood from many of my fellows, and nearly killed me when I was struck by a long proboscis, but the advantage of having suicidal companions who revel in combat is that ordinarily threatening creatures are considered minor inconveniences.  They were slain quickly, and a small chest full of minor magic was uncovered.  Potions mostly, as well as a few obscure items that we would have to identify later.  

(One of these was a Feather token, the innovation of the Wizard Quaal, that would turn into a whip of great power that could animate and attack on its own.  When we split this equipment later, it was decided that the feather token should be mine due to my lack of skill with a blade.  I am not one to argue with such logic, even if I dislike the presumption that I would continue to aid them once the smugglers were defeated.  I have a hatred for those who use the sea to prey on others, but common adventuring is beyond my skill or my desires.)

On the whole, it took less than an hour or two to clear the upper levels, and despite both myself and a one or two of the others suffering from a lack of blood, Kull pushed for us to continue our exploration of the caves below the manor.  It was a plan devoid of common sense, but the smugglers plans and habits were known to us and we were working on a short frame of time, so there was some logic in it despite it's lunacy.  With more courage than brains, we headed below.


----------



## arwink

_*Zalich's Journal, Entry Ten* _

It turns out that my companions had done a fairly thorough job on the sea caves on their last visit to the area.  They claimed that a smuggler had fled down here, and that this is what we were chasing, but the only danger we found was a room full of green slime that was easily avoiding with a little common sense.  Of course, common sense is not the greatest asset of this motley band, and the druid was badly wounded by slime-burns by the time the threat had been dealt with.

More intriguing was a underground dock that we found at the base of the caves, obviously the place where the smugglers had been loading and unloading their belongings.  There was even a small boat left behind - obviously the craft used to transport goods from a larger vessel.  

The others pronounced the Saltmarsh side of the smugglers operation crushed with this, and we returned to town.  I find the choice of language interesting - Kull is obviously having an effect on those around him.  In either case, they had done something worthy and worthwhile to aid the town, and they spoke of commandeering the smugglers larger vessel as the second part of their plan, so I figured I would continue to aid them for a short while at least.  

There were few boats passing through Saltmarsh I could sign on to (something which is of no great surprise now that I have spent some time in the place), and it feels good to try my skills against such sea-scourge as smugglers once more.  My years against the Silver-Arrow are some of the best I remember, and the possibility of continuing the crews work is always appealing.

We knew that the smuggling operation would have the larger ship arrive at full moon, and that the signal needed to be given from one of the upstairs rooms of the house, so a plan for assault was drawn up.  The village offered some aid - a pair of warriors who collected taxes and virtually doubled as the town guard - but they were land-folk and likely to be of little use on the rolling deck of a ship.  We decided that they would be used as a distraction, a method of boxing the ship in should we fail and the smugglers try to escape.  

We had a few days to prepare, and the town priest offered some aid in healing the wounds given to us by stirges and green slime, so we took it.  Planning, waiting, and pleading with the warrior Brodnak to leave the comforts of the harlot he was still ensconced with took up the bulk of our time until the night of the full moon came.


----------



## Lela

If I didn't know better, I'd say that Zalich is starting to like these guys.

Of course, I do know better and thus I'll only imply it.


----------



## Talix

I'm strongly reminded of The Princess Bride: "Goodnight Westly, sleep tight, I'll most likely kill you in the morning."    Somehow I suspect Zalich will be protesting the idiocy of his companions and planning to leave for the entirety of the campaign.  

Nice updates!


----------



## arwink

Nope, that's Kull.

"Goodnight Troilan, sleep thing. I'll most likely execute you in the morning."

Zalich's attitude becomes:

"It could be worse - you aren't Saltmarshers.  I'm sticking with you until I find some way out of this hellhole."


----------



## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> *Nope, that's Kull.
> 
> "Goodnight Troilan, sleep thing. I'll most likely execute you in the morning."
> 
> Zalich's attitude becomes:
> 
> "It could be worse - you aren't Saltmarshers.  I'm sticking with you until I find some way out of this hellhole." *




It's a sitcom for the whole family, really.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Fourth Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
First Moon

To:  Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

It has become evident that the danger hanging over Saltmarsh is far more serious than a simple tribe of bestial Lizardfolk.  It is incredible that these blinkered fools have survived for so long, so oblivious are they to their own surroundings.

After browbeating the village council into takes measures to defend themselves, I conducted a review of the locals and tested the skills of each with spear, club and sling.  The best in each were made provisional sergeants, and assigned others to train.  The most skilled are not always the best teachers, but there was not time before my departure to vet their skills any more carefully.  I was resolved to undertake a more thorough evaluation as soon as I returned, however.

This done, I set out for the lizardfolk lair.  As agreed, Saltmarsh had made their customs ship available for the journey, though the crew complement was clearly less than was usual: no doubt an effort to reduce costs.  You would think they would attach more value to their own skins.

Though short-handed, the ship's captain made good time, and landed us in the agreed place.  From there, we had only a march of a few miles to reach our destination.  With the death of the druid, and the departure of Troilan to the town of Mellin, the band of castaways who followed me had been reduced from five to three.  But, with the halfling's spells and the strong arms of Brodnak and Julianne, I thought we could bloody the nose of the lizardfolk and keep them from open attacks on the town.

I have come to expect incompetence from the locals in Saltmarsh: I did not expect it from those who had travelled with me.  Perhaps the blight of apathy that afflicts the town is contagious:.

For a short time, things progressed as planned.  I located the lizardfolk camp - a set of damp and marshy caverns - and led the others into it through a rear entrance.  This was probably a stable or livestock area, as we came across three giant lizards in the first cave.  These proved aggressive, but were quickly despatched.  An encounter with dumb beasts such as these is more truly termed a slaughter, than a battle.

I led on, heading further into the complex, and we soon encountered a lizardfolk patrol: a dozen armed warriors, led by a shaman.  Truly, these are a people who are prepared for war!  Calling on Hextor's strength to aid me, I led the charge against them.

Perhaps the ease with which the lizards were overcome led the others to become complacent, or perhaps their feelings about the people of Saltmarsh robbed them of their purpose.  I do not know the reason for their failure in this battle.  Whatever the cause, however, I found myself battling the lizardfolk all but single-handedly.  If Brodnak laid his sword against flesh at any time in the fight, I did not see it, while Julianne succumbed almost immediately to the magic of the shaman, suffering the delusion that he was her life-long friend.

Zalich, it is true, struggled as best he could to assist me, but a halfling with a makeshift club is no compensation for the failure of true warriors.  Had not Hextor seen fit to bless me with his favour in all its might, I do not doubt that we would have fallen to the lizardfolk.

As it was, by the time I had crushed the skull of the last creature, there was not a single one of us who was not wounded close to death.  Even after I used every scrap of curative magic I possessed, it was clear that to press on would be folly: we had bloodied the foe, but we were too few to prevail.  Already the sounds of an alert were echoing through the caverns: the lizardfolk, at least, were not slow to respond to danger.  The people of Saltmarsh could learn much from them.

I ordered the retreat, though the word was bitter in my mouth.  The sound of scaled feet was already loud in the tunnels, and as I harried the others back toward the exit, I began to suspect that I had already left the retreat too late.


----------



## Joshua Randall

It should be amusing to see how Kull's negotiating skills interact with those of the lizard men. But to say more would be telling.

Man, I love these modules.


----------



## Manatee

Welcome back, Capellan!  Thanks for the update.


----------



## Lela

Aw, Kull has experienced the dreaded unlucky party battle.  Though they survived, I'm thinking someone's going to get an earfull later.


----------



## Lela

Aw, Kull has experienced the dreaded unlucky party battle.  Though they survived, I'm thinking someone's going to get an earfull later.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Fourth Report - Part 2*

Within moments, it emerged that we were indeed surrounded, with a wall of lizardmen both before and behind us in the tunnel.  This was a fine and rapid response to our incursion.  Would that the people of Saltmarsh had such capability, we would never have been needed.  The ability of our foes was at least some comfort.  If I were to die, at least it would be at the hands of an enemy I could respect.  Sorely wounded as we were, I saw little chance of escape.  With no hope but a clean death, I spoke a prayer to Hextor, and led the charge.

Julianne and Zalich did not reach the enemy; trapped by grasping reeds that a shaman had animated, they quickly became helpless to move.  The strength Hextor had granted me let me rip my way through the barrier, however, with the now raging Brodnak beside me.  We struck their line with a mighty clash of arms, but their spears were too many: two barbs lodged in my flesh, and I fell.

I did not expect to wake.  But wake I did, to strange news indeed.  The lizardfolk; apparently impressed the carnage we had wrought on their forces; had proved willing to parley, though they equally obviously considered us their prisoners.  Zalich was able to understand their tongue, and had conducted the negotiations while I was unconscious.  It seemed the creatures were not arming to attack Saltmarsh, but to defend themselves from a tribe of sea monsters known as Sahuagin, who had already driven them from one home.

The mere mention of Sahuagin made Zalich turn his head and spit, and if they were able to drive the doughty lizardmen from their home, then they must be strong warriors.  I have no doubt that Saltmarsh would be easily destroyed by them, were they to turn their attention toward it.  This was obviously also the belief of our captors, as they had made no effort to contact the villagers for assistance, despite actively seeking out the aid of other races: sea elves and some beasts known as locathah.

Our appearance; accompanied as it was by bloodshed they could ill afford; had at least persuaded them that some kind of aid might be gained from alliance with Saltmarsh.  Zalich unwisely expressed his doubts about this, but pledged that he at least would be willing to help.  He also spoke in my name and in those of the others; an act for which he had no authority; but I endorsed his action once I knew of it.  These Sahuagin are a real danger, and aiding the lizardmen against them will gain us strong allies.

Naturally, there was still the matter of the blood we had spilled.  The lizardmen could ill afford the losses we had inflicted, and demanded recompense before they would negotiate with Saltmarsh.  Their price was the destruction of a giant crocodile that had recently moved into their hunting grounds, and mauled several of their warriors.  If we destroyed the beast and brought back its head, they would return to Saltmarsh with us to negotiate a treaty.

I accepted the offer, provided we were given a night to rest and prepare.  They agreed to this condition, and the next morning - rested and healed - I led the others forth to destroy the crocodile, guided by one of the tribe's hunters.

The lizardman brought us swiftly to the water hole where the creature laired, and we found and slew it just as swiftly.  Strong and powerful though it was, its hide could not turn the blows of my flail, nor the jets of flame unleashed by Zalich.  Julianne and Brodnak were of less aid, seeming unable to land any solid blows, but in truth their aid was little needed.

Indeed, when the beast lay dead it seemed almost as if the fight had been too easy.  Perhaps Hextor thought so too, for as the crocodile breathed its last, a lizard-like head suddenly poked out of the reeds around the water hole.  It glared at us for a moment, then opened its mouth and spat forth a sizzling stream of acid, which splashed over me in an agonizing moment.

The pain was intense; I could literally see the flesh dissolving on my hands and arms; but I fought through it to call on Hextor's power, restoring some of the damage I had suffered.  As I did so, the creature leapt into the water and slid beneath the surface.  It swam powerfully toward us, visible only as a dark shadow in the water's depths.

It seemed our fight had disturbed a dragon.


----------



## Lela

Dragons dragons everywhere and not enough for Full Plate.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Fourth Report - Part 3*

Obviously, the fact that I lived to pen this report must mean that the beast breathes no more, but the mere fact of its defeat does no justice to the battle that ensued.

Bursting out of the water, the dragon - a black and fell beast, powerful despite the fact that it was obviously still young - raked and gouged at me with tooth and claw.  My armour turned some of the force from its blows, but on top of the acidic blast I had already endured, these were still life-threatening wounds.

I shouted Hextor's name and swung my flail.  Black scales cracked under the force of the blow; one of the strongest I have ever made.  The beast fell back, ichor spurting from the injury.

Brodnak and Julianne leapt forward, striking at the beast.  I did not see either of them wound it, but their efforts were enough to draw the creature's attention.  It snapped at the woman, while sweeping its tail at Brodnak.  The barbarian was knocked from his feet, but leapt up immediately, his face flushing purple as a battle-rage descended upon him.

Invoking the last of my healing spells for the day - other than a pair of the most minor orisons - I felt my wounds close.  Though still far from full health, I threw myself back into the fight, knowing that we would need every ounce of skill and strength to overcome such a beast.

Having layered himself with every protective spell at his disposal, Zalich moved around the edges of the battle, staying clear of the creature's claws and fangs.  The club he clutched in his hands looked futile against such an opponent, but the halfling's skill lies in other areas.  He gestured, and a gout of flame struck the dragon.  Black-scaled as it was, I could not see if the blast charred its flesh, but its howl of pain was proof enough of the injury it has sustained.

I struck again, crushing more of those scales beneath my flail, as the beast tore at Brodnak, opening great rents in his arms.  The barbarian hewed back just as savagely, but the blade of his axe turned on the creature's thick armour.  Julianne's narrow-bladed swords were better suited to the task, however, and she thrust her blade into the dragon's side.

The creature howled again, drops of acidic spittle flying from its jaws.  It reared up, lunging at the female warrior.  She all but dodged the blow, yet even the glancing collision that resulted was sufficient to knock her from her feet.  Sensing the chance to make a kill, the dragon loomed over her, but I landed a heavy blow on the back of its skull, staggering it to one side, and Julianne was able to scramble free.

I tried to strike again, but the beast twisted to meet my blow, snaring my forearm between its jaws.  Its mouth snapped shut, and I could feel its jaws grind against the bones of my arm.

Yet, even as it stopped my blow, the dragon sealed its own fate.  Its attention turned from the others, and they seized the moment.  First, Zalich struck it with a bolt of ice, freezing a small patch of its scales, and then Brodnak stepped forward, bringing his axe down in a mighty overhead blow.  In truth, his performance until that moment had been so poor that I expected little from the blow, but for the first time the blade of his weapon struck true, and his axe laid the creature's flesh wide open, cutting deep and severing the spine.

The beast convulsed, its eyes grew dim, and it slumped slowly to the ground, the mighty jaws unclenching as its teeth slipped free of my arm.

The fight was won.


----------



## arwink

_Excerpt from Zalich's Journal_

We fought a dragon today.  Killed it too.  

Nasty blighter was almost as big as I am


----------



## Capellan

Actually, the 3.5 MM lists it as size M


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> *Actually, the 3.5 MM lists it as size M    *




Maybe he didn't get a good look at it. 


So, does it scare anybody that you've seen two youthful dragons of late?  One could happen to anyone but two could mean something completely different.

Oh, and congrats on killing a dragon.  Now you've pissed off a whole bunch of them.


----------



## Brodnak

Axe sharp! Dragon die! Brodnak mighty warrior! Slay dragon!

Rarrgh!


----------



## Lela

Brodnak said:
			
		

> *Axe sharp! Dragon die! Brodnak mighty warrior! Slay dragon!
> 
> Rarrgh! *




Puny Dragon


----------



## Joshua Randall

Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

Kull, Zalich, Brodnak, et al. should give thanks to their DM for being a softy: I believe _Danger at Dunwater_ specifies that the giant crocodile and the dragon attack *simultaneously*. Yikes.

(It's one of the typical 1st edition modules which, when converted to 3e, is utterly deadly.)


----------



## Mantreus

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> *Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!
> 
> Kull, Zalich, Brodnak, et al. should give thanks to their DM for being a softy: I believe Danger at Dunwater specifies that the giant crocodile and the dragon attack simultaneously. Yikes.
> 
> (It's one of the typical 1st edition modules which, when converted to 3e, is utterly deadly.) *




Hush! He reads this you know!


----------



## The Padre

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> *Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!
> 
> Kull, Zalich, Brodnak, et al. should give thanks to their DM for being a softy: I believe Danger at Dunwater specifies that the giant crocodile and the dragon attack simultaneously. Yikes.
> 
> (It's one of the typical 1st edition modules which, when converted to 3e, is utterly deadly.) *




Hi ya all, the DM is in!

The module actually prescribes a 3 round window before the dragon pops it's head in to see what's happening. It then gets a little upset as the croc is its pet and attacks. 

As it was, the players went through the croc like a band saw, so they were finished by the time the Dragon arrived.

Dave


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Fourth Report - Part 4*

With the crocodile - and the dragon - defeated, I led the return to the lizardfolk stronghold.  The head of the crocodile I dragged in the dirt behind us, proof that the bargain was fulfilled.  Brodnak, for his part, bore the corpse of the dragon.  The simple-minded barbarian had announced his intention to have the creature stuffed and mounted, as a memento of what he obviously considered to be a great victory, and a proof that his axe was as sharp as ever.

That left the others to carry the dragon's treasure, which we had uncovered in a nest of reeds by the lake.  Much of this was simple gold and jewels, but there were also two swords, each enchanted with strong magic.  Brodnak had claimed the larger blade - a massive greatsword - while Julianne had taken the smaller.  I could only trust they would put these weapons to better use than they had done against the lizardfolk, or all the magic in the world would not save them.

In the morning, a party of lizardfolk joined us in our preparations for the return to Saltmarsh.  Their group included six warriors, as well as a shaman who would no doubt conduct the negotiations with the village council.  This assumed, of course, that the council did not pass out from fear at the prospect of facing an actual lizardman in the flesh.

For the first few days, the journey back to Saltmarsh was uneventful.  A large, well-armed party such as ours was not likely to be challenged by wild animals, after all.  However, as we reached the edge of the marsh, a lizardman scout reported a goblin camp just off to the side of our route.

It is possible that we could have avoided the goblins - their efforts at scouting and watchfulness are usually haphazard - but I had no intention of allowing an armed camp of the vermin to move around with impunity, so close to the village.  It was a matter of only a few moments to convince the lizardfolk to join my assault, for I simply pointed out that the continued presence of the goblins would make land-based communication between their camp and the village very dangerous, while sea-based communication would always be vulnerable to their sahuagin enemies.  Brodnak, Zalich and the others, of course, were even more easily won over by the lure of looting the goblin's camp.  A time-honoured incentive used by military commanders from all races.

In the event, the battle itself was a fierce one, though there could never be a doubt as to the outcome.  The goblins outnumbered us by no more than two-to-one, and though they had a shaman of their own and one or two of them demonstrated some skill with their crude blades, they could not match us either in magical nor in martial might.  I myself slew eight of their warriors, including their leader.  Zalich used his spells to deal with several more, while Julianne and the lizardmen cut down the remainder.

Only Brodnak - again - proved a failure as a warrior.  At the outset of the battle, he engaged four goblins.  By the time every other one of the vermin had fallen, he still faced the same four creatures, none of whom had even been hurt.  The barbarian was swinging wildly, and the creatures danced easily away from his blows, giving him cuts in return that would have felled many a man.  Brodnak's bravery and strength are not in doubt, but I begin to wonder as to whether he has any true skill.

Once the rest of us had come to the barbarian's aid, and slain the last four goblins, we continued on our way to Saltmarsh, arriving as the day grew late.  To my irritation - though not to my surprise - our motley troop was within the very outskirts of the town itself before our presence - and that of the lizardmen - was even noticed.  Had the lizardfolk been hostile, there is no doubt in my mind that they could easily have destroyed the town.

It took some time to calm the panic that set in when the villagers finally noticed the arrival of the lizardfolk, but once that was done, we made arrangements to meet with the council immediately, so that the true situation could be explained to them.  Knowing that panic was likely to appear again, once the truth was known by the villagers, I insisted that the meeting take place in a closed session: just the council, the lizardfolk, and my group.

It would also be easier for the council to accept their proper place, if I did not first have to humiliate them in front of the entire town.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Capellan said:
			
		

> It would also be easier for the council to accept their proper place, if I did not first have to humiliate them in front of the entire town.




You guys. You're all heart, aren't you?


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> Only Brodnak - again - proved a failure as a warrior.  At the outset of the battle, he engaged four goblins.  By the time every other one of the vermin had fallen, he still faced the same four creatures, none of whom had even been hurt.  The barbarian was swinging wildly, and the creatures danced easily away from his blows, giving him cuts in return that would have felled many a man.  Brodnak's bravery and strength are not in doubt, but I begin to wonder as to whether he has any true skill.



Ok, here's the deal. I needed a 4 or a 7 (one of those) to hit the damn things. And throughout the entire fight I'm rolling 1/2/2/3/1/3 etc etc. It was a truly terrifying bit of dice rolling.

I believe Brodnak has "dice issues".


----------



## arwink

And when he says dice issues - he literally means the dice hate the character.

Over the course of four games, with one of the highets to hit and damage scores in the party, I remember Brodnack hitting twice.

Fortunately, Zalich was always there to bail him out with the trusty rolling pin of doom


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Ok, here's the deal. I needed a 4 or a 7 (one of those) to hit the damn things. And throughout the entire fight I'm rolling 1/2/2/3/1/3 etc etc. It was a truly terrifying bit of dice rolling.
> 
> I believe Brodnak has "dice issues".



 I feel for you man.  Enough so that I'm not even laughing. . .much.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's Fourth Report - Part 5*

Once the room had been cleared, I made the position clear to the council: the lizardfolk were friendly - indeed, they desired an alliance - but the village faced a far more dangerous threat in the sahuagin.  Even the mention of this word caused several of the councillors to blanch with fear.  This was a reaction I noted with some satisfaction, if only because it was the first time I had seen something shake their complacency.

I also warned them of the passage of a large group of goblins through their territory, and the likelihood that there was a settlement somewhere nearby.  The group we had fought had contained neither females nor young, and it was doubtful that a large party of males would travel far without such comforts.

In truth, I consider the goblins a slight threat, at most.  They are too weak as individuals and too disorganised as groups to present much danger, unless present in such large numbers that even the wilfully blind people of Saltmarsh would have been sure to detect them.  Still, another danger looming over their heads would be apt to make the council even more malleable.

With the situation outlined in broad terms, I got down to the specific steps that that needed to be taken to counter the threat.

First, an alliance must be made with the lizardfolk, the sea-elves, and the locathah.  The sahuagin were recognised as enemies by all four races, so it would be foolish to try and battle them alone.

Second, the goblins must be dealt with.  Though they were no threat to an army, they would be a danger to messengers travelling between the allies, which would reduce the value of the alliance itself.

Third, the steps already taken to prepare Saltmarsh for an attack would have to be stepped up, with increased time set aside for weapons training for all adults.  Youths of eight or more should also receive training.  Not as fighters, but as leaders of the smaller children.  In the event of an attack, it would be their responsibility to gather all those younger than themselves and lead them to the pre-determined shelters.  All able-bodied adults would be needed to defend the village; there were none to spare for taking care of the young.

Fourth, I was to be given a command of the militia.  Clearly, they needed someone with training and experience to lead the force, and I was by far the best candidate.  They were free to choose my second in command, but there must be a single person in the role, not a council: committees cannot command on the battlefield.

The Council acquiesced on every point: it is good to know that even the people of Saltmarsh eventually see sense when their own skins are threatened.  They also asked that I consider leading an expedition to reconnoitre the sahuagin base, in preparation for a combined attack on the place.  This aggressive plan surprised me at first, coming from the timid council, but it soon became apparent that it had originated from the lizardfolk.  No doubt they were eager to recover their old home from the sahuagin.

I was dubious about the wisdom of assaulting a sahuagin stronghold, as any such attack would be costly, but at least the council seemed committed to the fight.  I agreed to lead the reconnaissance, as soon as the goblins were dealt with, and the militia had reached at least a minimal level of competence in their weapons training.

I intend to spend the next week overseeing the training of the militia, to get a clear idea of their level of skill and preparedness.  I expect both to be abysmal, and will doubtless spend most of my efforts in establishing a proper training program.  While I attend to this, I have negotiated for Zalich to create a set of enchanted boots, which will allow me to walk on walls and sheer surfaces, much as he did during out assault on the smugglers' ship.  We also have a number of magical items to identify, taken from the hoards of the dragon and the goblins, and the halfling will negotiate with the local merchant who provides such services.

I will send my next report once the goblin settlement has been found and dealt with.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Lela

Thanks Cap.  Well done as always.

Just one question,



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> I also warned them of the passage of a large group of goblins through their territory, and the likelihood that there was a settlement somewhere nearby.  The group we had fought had contained neither females nor young, and it was doubtful that a large party of males would travel far without such comforts.




Young are considered a comfort?


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

I'm curious as to what sort of level you are at this point.

But also looking forwards very much to finding out what happens next!


----------



## arwink

About 4th or 5th, from memory.

While we're at it - we've seen the last of Zalich's updates for the moment.  I've got way to much stuff on, so I'm falling back on the number of storyhours I'm writing.

With luck, Brodnack's player may start to pick up my slack


----------



## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> About 4th or 5th, from memory.
> 
> While we're at it - we've seen the last of Zalich's updates for the moment. I've got way to much stuff on, so I'm falling back on the number of storyhours I'm writing.
> 
> With luck, Brodnack's player may start to pick up my slack




How's your Thesis going?  Anything we can do to help?


----------



## Capellan

arwink said:
			
		

> About 4th or 5th, from memory.




Kull and Julianne were 4th.  The others (who had all missed a session of play at some point) were still 3rd.

These days we are all 5th, except Kull who is - just - 6th.



			
				arwink said:
			
		

> While we're at it - we've seen the last of Zalich's updates for the moment.  I've got way to much stuff on, so I'm falling back on the number of storyhours I'm writing.




This from the man who was talking about taking on another SH   

As long as you keep updating Copperheads and Hijinx from time to time, I'm happy.


----------



## Morte

Not a good time to be a goblin then.

<insert "I'm enjoying this, Kull is an especially fun PC" stuff here>


----------



## Lela

Morte said:
			
		

> Not a good time to be a goblin then.
> 
> <insert "I'm enjoying this, Kull is an especially fun PC" stuff here>



 Heh, I'll have to let you see one of my Goblins soon.  It's in .PDF, so I'd have to e-mail it but if you'd like to see it, let me know.


----------



## Joshua Randall

I am *very much* looking forward to reading how Kull handles the recon of the sahuagin lair. I simply adore module U3: it's possibly the best D&D tactical challenge ever written.


----------



## Capellan

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> I am *very much* looking forward to reading how Kull handles the recon of the sahuagin lair. I simply adore module U3: it's possibly the best D&D tactical challenge ever written.




I dislike the module, myself.  Found it very contrived and implausible (the details of which would belong in another thread, I'd say).

As for what actually happened when we went ... no spoilers yet, as I will get to it in the SH eventually 

Update later today (well, about 3am GMT).


----------



## Joshua Randall

All modules are inherently contrived. But I am surprised that you find the U-series objectionably so, as they were (for their time) amazingly coherent and well thought out.

If you want to start another thread for this debate, please do so!


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> All modules are inherently contrived. But I am surprised that you find the U-series objectionably so, as they were (for their time) amazingly coherent and well thought out.
> 
> If you want to start another thread for this debate, please do so!




Seconded. Don't forget to link to it in this one, of course!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 5th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
First Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

As expected, the goblin settlement was readily dealt with.  However - in a manner that is becoming all but predictable - there proved to be more afoot than was apparent on the surface.

I allowed the others to rest for nearly two weeks before organising the expedition to deal with the goblins.  Zalich, in particular, was reluctant to set out, claiming an urgent need to attend to his magical studies.  It was only when I reminded him that the sahuagin would not wait for his convenience, that he made ready to join the mission.

It was as well that he did, as his pet raven, Poe - a strange and unnatural animal - proved invaluable in finding the goblin base.  Keen-eyed, and able to soar far above the marsh, he soon located my target.

Troilan had not yet returned from her diplomatic mission, and as I did not yet trust the ability or courage of the village militia, I had left them to train in Saltmarsh.  Thus, my only troops for this expedition were the three 'adventurers' who had accompanied me to the lizardfolk lair, as well as the two skeletons that I had recovered in the assault on the ruined manor.  I would not normally have troubled to bring these weak undead servitors, but it had occurred to me that they would serve well as a distraction during the attack.

At first, it seemed we would not even need such distractions: the goblins were well-occupied with the roasting of a captured human, whose screams carried far across the swamp and distracted their guards from their duties.  Taking full advantage of this distraction, I led the others to within a few hundred feet of the village, without the goblins noticing our presence.

The settlement was surrounded by a low, wooden wall; rickety and poorly-maintained, as could be expected from goblins, but still sufficient to hold back a small force such as ours.  Fortunately, my magical boots would allow me to easily surmount this problem, and throw open the gates for the rest of the group.  Even if I was delayed from doing this, Zalich could use his magic to get over the wall, while both Brodnak and Julianne favour a lightly armoured style, and believed they could scale it should they need to.

With this plan agreed, I led the charge out into the open, covering perhaps half the distance to the wall before the alarm was raised.  At this time, my decision to bring the skeletons proved wise.  I had placed them at the front of my force, and the pair attracted most of the missile fire from the goblins as we advanced.  They suffered several hits, but the goblins' arrows inflicted little harm without flesh to pierce.

As the wall drew closer, our provisions to scale the wall proved unnecessary.  Demonstrating unusual spirit for the race - but the also a far more typical lack of intelligence - the goblins threw open the gates of their wall, and came forth to meet us.

The battle, such as it was, was predictably brief.  The goblins managed to destroy both skeletons, but they fell in droves when they tried to face Brodnak or Julianne.  As the two warriors carved their way through the rank and file, I set my efforts against the goblin leaders.  Their chief fell easily: I smashed my way through his bodyguard, and then caved in his skull with a single blow of my flail.  The fight did not last long after this, especially when the shaman also fell, and the few surviving goblins soon surrendered.

After interrogating the survivors, we learned that they held several more prisoners, in one of the huts toward the rear of the encampment.  Most of these proved to be members of a merchant caravan the goblins had raided, though there was also an elf amongst them, dressed in furs and leathers.  Another one of those ridiculous druids.

The goblins had made their camp at the foot of an earthen cliff-face, at the head of an old mine.  I would have thought the land here was too soft and wet for such excavations, but it seems that someone at least had tried it, in the past.  The goblins claimed that they had not ventured into the mine - except for their now deceased shaman - as they believed it was a place of bad spirits.

Such talk sounded like a ploy by the shaman to hide some secret treasure or stronghold of his own, and - having set the humans and elf to guard their one-time captors - I led the others into the mine, intent on discovering what lay within.

The first few tunnels were much alike those of any other mine you might see, though more damp and in worse repair.  However, when I came to the deepest reaches of the works, I found that the departed miners had uncovered something strange: a collapsed arch of stone, leading into what appeared to be the entrance chamber of a hidden, underground complex!


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> Saltmarsh
> The battle, such as it was, was predictably brief.  The goblins managed to destroy both skeletons, but they fell in droves when they tried to face Brodnak or Julianne.  As the two warriors carved their way through the rank and file. . .




Bah, there's just no way Kull would ever give Brodnak or Julianne their due.  If they took down a Great Wyrm, he'd just chock it up to luck.

Sounds like Brodnak's player better get in here if he plans to get any recognition.


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Bah, there's just no way Kull would ever give Brodnak or Julianne their due.  If they took down a Great Wyrm, he'd just chock it up to luck.





At this stage, Brodnak was a 4th level barbarian with a _+1 keen greatsword_.  Julianne was a Fighter 3 / Rogue 1 with a _shortsword of subtlety_.

In those circumstances, killing 15 or 20 goblins doesn't _deserve_ recognition  

(Which is not to say that they don't get shortchanged - I never claimed Kull was fair, after all!  )


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> At this stage, Brodnak was a 4th level barbarian with a _+1 keen greatsword_.  Julianne was a Fighter 3 / Rogue 1 with a _shortsword of subtlety_.
> 
> In those circumstances, killing 15 or 20 goblins doesn't _deserve_ recognition
> 
> (Which is not to say that they don't get shortchanged - I never claimed Kull was fair, after all!  )



 Oh, I don't disagree.  20 Goblins managed to get slaughtered by my group when they were only 2nd level.  Of course, there were 8 (or so) of them, so it wasn't a huge deal.

But, since you won't recount their glory, I think it's time for one of them to pop in and show us a different kind of Honor and Justice.  In fact, they could choose to only recount the battles in which they rocked in, thus boosting their rep.


----------



## Mantreus

Verily Brodnak did cleave to his hearts content. It was a good day. However, i must admit, I still missed quite a few cleaves that I shouldn't have... and not  single crit despite the sexy new keen sword..


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Verily Brodnak did cleave to his hearts content. It was a good day. However, i must admit, I still missed quite a few cleaves that I shouldn't have... and not  single crit despite the sexy new keen sword..



 For shame.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 5th Report - Part 2*

Blocking the entrance itself was a large block of stone, inscribed with some childish riddle.  It took only moments to deduce the answer was "arrow", and the block slid aside, revealing a set of stairs leading deeper into the earth.

Descending the stairs, we reached a short tunnel, which led quickly to an intersection.  The route to the right soon ended at a deep crevasse: from the looks of it, some kind of earthquake or other sudden movement in the ground had caused the damage.  On other side of the chasm, the tunnel continued, but - not knowing what lay to our left - I decided not to cross it at this stage.

Instead, I led the group back in the other direction, emerging in a large, obviously man-made chamber with a pool at the centre.  A strange, translucent ooze-like creature attacked us as we drew near the water, but it was weak and succumbed quickly to our blows.

Two doors led out of the area and I chose to search beyond the one on the left, as it lay closer to our original point of entry.  This proved to lead to a block of cells, containing only the long-decayed remains of some prisoners, and another slime-like creature, this one green in hue.  A similar aberration had assailed the druid in the caves beneath the ruined manor, and I wasted no time in applying fire to the beast, which quickly blackened and died.

Leading down from the cells were another flight of stairs, which brought us to an ancient shrine, dedicated to the mad and bloody god of slaughter.  Why any would choose to follow a God that seeks only to destroy, without thought or purpose, I do not know.  It makes as little sense as worshipping one who lacks the strength and will to do what needs to be done.  But it seems there are still many in the world who refuse to acknowledge the wisdom in Hextor's teachings.

Leaving the profane place, we returned to the other exit from the pool room.  It took little wit to realise that the chamber beyond this door contained a dangerous trap, for two crushed and distorted skeletons lay on the floor.  Seeing that the room was in any case empty but for a statue, I decided that there would be little profit in searching it immediately.

Instead, I led the way back to the chasm, where the boots I had commissioned from Zalich made the processing of crossing a simple task.  I simply walked up the wall and across the roof, then back down the wall on the other side.  Zalich then used a minor spell to levitate the boots back to the rest of them, and each of the group crossed in turn.

This done, we continued down the tunnel.  At one point, a rock-fall blocked much of the passage, but it was possible to clamber over this and squeeze into the area beyond.  This area proved to include a pit trap, but this was little threat and was soon navigated.

Beyond the pit trap stood a portcullis, which had grown rusted and weak with age.  I had little difficulty in forcing it open, an action which triggered a booming voice to speak, prophesying dire warnings if we pressed on.  The same sort of magical trickery was used at the ruined manor in Saltmarsh, and neither threat had any substance to them.

Beyond the portcullis lay a door, swollen and stuck in place.  When I forced it open, a stench of rotten flesh filled the corridor, and three zombies shuffled into sight.  I called on Hextor, and two of the zombies immediately turned on the third, tearing it to pieces at my command.  Will the weaklings who rely on these ineffectual creatures never learn?  They are powerless before the iron will of Hextor.

A search of the zombie's chamber revealed a secret door, leading to a narrow room set with arrow slits.  The slits offered a view of some kind of antechamber, fitted with the trappings of the ridiculous cult that had built the place.  There was, however, no way to enter the area from where we stood.

Brodnak offered to smash his way through the wall, but it was solid stone, and would take hours of work to properly clear.  Knowing that there had to be another route, and that it was likely to be both secret and guarded, I led the way back to the chamber with the crushed skeletons.

Finally, I have found a worthwhile use for zombies.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Glad to see Hextor is still doing right by you...

I forsee a time in the future when the entire village of Saltmarsh is zombiefied - "for their own good", of course.


----------



## Joshua Randall

I never fully appreciated "rebuke or command undead" until I started reading this story hour. Way to go, Kull Redfist. You show those zombies who's boss!


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> Instead, I led the way back to the chasm, where the boots I had commissioned from Zalich made the processing of crossing a simple task. I simply walked up the wall and across the roof, then back down the wall on the other side. Zalich then used a minor spell to levitate the boots back to the rest of them, and each of the group crossed in turn.




Brilliant.  Just plain Briliant.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 5th Report - Part 3*

Getting the mindless creatures across the chasm proved something of a task, of course: they were too stupid by far to don the boots, nor would I wish to have their feet within my own belongings.  In the end, we tied a rope around the chest of each, just under the armpits, then hauled them across like so much cargo, which proved an effective technique.  The creatures did suffer some damage from banging into the walls of the chasm, but they were still able to shamble along, once untied.

I led the way back to the room with the skeletons and statue, and directed one of the zombies to enter, then had it move back and forth around the room, waiting to see if it would trigger any traps.

It did indeed: the door suddenly swung shut, and there was a grinding of stone on stone from within the room.  The mindless undead, of course, was unperturbed by this development, and probably continued its vacant meanderings until the descending ceiling crushed it to the bloody pulp we found when we were at last able to open the door again.  In the mean time, we returned briefly to the surface to advise the druid that he could depart, as the remaining zombie would now stand guard over the goblin prisoners.

Returning to find that we could open the door once more, and knowing that I would eventually need to enter the room myself, I told Brodnak to hold the stone door upright while I attacked the hinges with my flail, shattering them.  I had no wish to have it close in my face should the trap be triggered.  Needing somewhere to place the door, I manhandled it just inside the room, so that it would serve to slow - or even jam - the ceiling if it descended again.

This done, I instructed Brodnak to check the room.  Despite his recent failure in battle, the barbarian was easily the swiftest of us all, capable of covering ground very quickly when he needed to do so.  In the circumstances, he was the best choice for the task.

Brodnak prowled around the chamber, peering and prodding at the stone walls, for several moments before there was a mechanical noise, and a grinding sound from the ceiling.  The door blocked it from descending, however, and - after exiting with a remarkable turn of speed - the warrior re-entered the room to continue searching, while I kept an eye on the door to warn him if the pressure from the ceiling seemed to be damaging it.

Eventually, he grunted in satisfaction and wrenched on the shield arm of the statue.  The arm swung down, and a door opened in the wall of the niche in which the statue stood.  This caused another noise from the ceiling, which rose up and settled back into its proper place.

I sent each of the others hurrying across the room in turn, giving the previous person plenty of time to squeeze past the statue and out of the danger area, then joined them in the corridor that lay beyond the secret door.

Within this unlit corridor were a series of tombs, each set into the wall at about chest height, and just large enough to contain a single coffin.  Each tomb bore a small plaque, naming the person who had been interred within.  Suspecting that these might contain undead, and seeing no reason to leave the stolen treasures of these cultists to moulder in their unhallowed graves, I smashed each open in turn.

My expectations were met: one of the graves contained a foul-smelling ghast, which fell quickly to the blows of my flail, and almost all contained precious trinkets of one kind or another.  One was even buried with two healing potions, of all things.  What need have the dead for healing?

Beyond the tombs lay another secret door, and then a third.  What foolishness is it to hide a chamber behind three secret portals, but then give intruders a clear view of it from another room that they can easily find?  These cultists were as misguided in their architecture as they were in their faith.

Eventually, the secret tunnels led to the chamber I had previously seen from the zombies' room.  This proved to contain embalming equipment, used in the preparation of corpses for burial.  It also contained a sarcophagus, sealed with wires and festooned with meaningless leaden glyphs, no doubt designed to fool those without knowledge of the magical arts into believing the tomb was trapped.

Telling the others to stand ready with weapons and spells, I used my dagger to cut the wires, then pushed the lid of the sarcophagus aside.


----------



## Lela

And then. . .BOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Or not.


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> This done, I instructed Brodnak to check the room.  Despite his recent failure in battle, the barbarian was easily the swiftest of us all, capable of covering ground very quickly when he needed to do so.  In the circumstances, he was the best choice for the task.



What actually occured was...

Capellan - "So who's going in?"
Arwink - "Not me!"
"er..."
Me - "Oh for heavens sake!" and I walked in...


----------



## Joshua Randall

Capellan said:
			
		

> Within this unlit corridor were a series of tombs
> [...] and almost all contained precious trinkets of one kind or another. One was even buried with two healing potions, of all things. What need have the dead for healing?
> 
> [...]
> 
> Beyond the tombs lay another secret door, and then a third. What foolishness is it to hide a chamber behind three secret portals, but then give intruders a clear view of it from another room that they can easily find? These cultists were as misguided in their architecture as they were in their faith.



Hah hah hah! It's funny when the PCs complain about D&D tropes, in character. And Kull is right: why *would* a coffin contain potions of healing? Why *would* someone put secret doors in completely obvious places?

I wonder what Kull would make of the Orc & Pie style 10'x10' room with one monster guarding a treasure?


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 5th Report - Part 4*

No trap detonated; no monster emerged.  For a complex that had been liberally strewn with both, it seemed unlikely that a tomb so well-hidden would be without wards or guardians.  When the contents of the sarcophagus proved to be nothing more than a crudely embalmed corpse and a small bag of gold, my suspicions increased, and I began a search of the chamber.  No-one goes to the trouble and expense of building three secret doors, to protect so little treasure.

The fourth secret door - evidently this cult had a passion for them - lay behind the sarcophagus, with the opening mechanism only about a foot off the ground.  Unsurprisingly, it was Zalich who located it.

Beyond this door lay what appeared to be a natural cavern, through which ran an underground stream.  At the far end of the cavern stood an edifice that was most clearly a man-made addition: a flight of stairs, leading to a heavy stone door.

Brodnak, with his usual impetuous nature, ran forward and threw open the doors.  Fortunately, these were not trapped, but the lid of the sarcophagus beyond - which he pushed aside with just as little caution - was magically warded.

A sudden flash of darkness filled the chamber, blinding the barbarian and causing him to reel backwards.  As well he did, for a grim, undead monster levered itself into sight, swinging at him with its large, heavy fists.

This was no zombie or skeleton, mindless and easily controlled, nor a ghoul or ghast, swift fodder for strong blows.  This was an abomination of far more power and darkness: the mightiest I had yet faced.

It was, however, but one creature, facing four.  Whatever other faults they have, these adventurers do not lack for courage, and they pressed the battle as vigorously as I did myself.  Taking care to keep clear of Brodnak's sword - the barbarian continued to swing wildly, despite his lack of sight - I moved to strike the creature from the opposite side, while Zalich targeted the beast with a bolt of energy, anathema to undead of any kind.

The beast struck Brodnak again, and he fell backwards down the stairs, stunned by the blow.  Even as it turned to face me, however, I brought my flail crashing into its side, while Julianne leapt over the stricken barbarian to add her swords to the fray.

As Brodnak staggered to his feet, snarling with rage but thwarted from rejoining the battle by the loss of his sight, I struck again, my blow knocking the creature straight onto Julianne's blade.  It gave a hideous shriek and buffeted her backwards, then swung again, its unnatural strength all but knocking me from my feet.

Yet the beast's strength was its own undoing, for as it knocked us away, it gave Zalich the opening he needed.  Forsaking spells, he flung a flask of alchemist's fire, striking it on the back.  Instantly, a sheet of flames roared up, the creature's dry, brittle flesh proving as flammable as tinder.

Within a few seconds, the monster was consumed, and the battle won.  It had been a powerful foe, however, and the wounds it inflicted were raw and inflamed, almost certainly infected.  I knew I would have to call on Hextor's strength to cleanse them, though this would have to wait: I had already called on His aid enough for one day.  He grants us His strength, but only if we show strength enough to deserve it.

This sarcophagus contained the real treasures of the cultists: mainly coins and gems.  With the wealth I have already accumulated, plus additional funds now promised by the village council, I will be able to finance the construction of a stone Chapel, where Hextor's strength can be properly recognised and revered.  Few people need his aid more than those of Saltmarsh, though it is also true that few deserve it less.

I am pleased to report, however, that there has even been some progress made on this front: when we returned to the village, there were guards on duty, watching the roads into town, and construction had begun on a tower, to allow a watch to be kept in all directions.  The guards' actual skill with the spears and clubs they wield still leaves much to be desired, but there is at last a willingness to take some steps to protect themselves, rather than relying on the fortunate presence of adventurers.

I believe that the presence of the lizardfolk has been a contributing factor in the town's improved state of readiness.  The lizardfolk warriors set an excellent example of discipline and ability, and have humiliated the militia in several mock engagements.

The village council has requested that I spend a further week training the troops, at which time they plan to commence reconnaissance against the Sahuagin: a mission they have asked me to lead.  I have agreed to their request, as the payment they offered for these services will more than cover the construction of the Chapel, as I mentioned above.

I shall report again once work on the Chapel has begun.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Lela

He's training them.  He's taken on the role of leader in many of their eyes.  Now he's going to put up a temple for them.  I think we're witnesing the creation of a new branch in the Hextorian church.

This, of course, brings evil DM ideas to mind (I'm in that mode as I'll be the evil DM tomarrow).  How will the party react to this?  Will some of these new followers become Clerics themselves?  Anti-Paladin's/Blackguard?  If so, will there eventually be a political battle between Kull and one of the new devout?  Would Hextor start pouring the more EVIL take on the doctrine into the hearts and minds of these new Clerics?  How would Kull react to this?

Oh, the evilness availible to your DM.  I can't wait to see what happens next.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

I love this story hour. The sheer disdain of Kull towards pretty much everyone he encounters is a joy to read. I fear Arwink has set in motion a chain of events that will rock his campaign world.

Anyone for an Epic Level Kull leading his mighty armies to bring the True Faith to the Unbelievers?


----------



## arwink

[whispers]pst.  Tallarn.  It's not my world.  I'm but a humble halfling in this one[/whispers]


----------



## Capellan

*Tallarn*
Well, arwink's a player in this campaign, rather than the DM, so I don't think he has too much to worry about (unless, of course, he questions the Will of Hextor  ).

As for epic level characters ... I don't think the campaign is likely to go that far (10th-12th would be my guess), though you never know ... but Epic Level Kull would just be the current Kull, with the volume turned up to '11', Spinal Tap-style 

The PC who would _really_ be interesting to see at epic level ... well, I won't spoil it for you.  You'll learn, soon enough ...


*Lela*
This DM isn't really in the 'evil' mode (which is ironic, really).  He leaves the Machiavellian stuff to arwink, and focuses on an more action/adventure/war heroes feel.  Did you ever see the movie, The 13th Warrior?  That's the kind of thing we get in this campaign.  It's a rollicking adventure, there are Big Piles of Dead Bad Guys (TM Wulf Ratbane), and we all have a huge amount of fun.  Personally, I'm really glad to be able to play in two quite different styles of game.  Long may it continue


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Well, with the amount of story hours I read, it's not my fault if I can't remember who DMs which ones... Apologies to the DM.

Maybe after the campaign is finished you guys should stat Kull out at higher levels, or make up a 'future history' of him...could be a fun exercise.


----------



## The Padre

*The Future of Kull*



> This DM isn't really in the 'evil' mode (which is ironic, really).  He leaves the Machiavellian stuff to arwink, and focuses on an more action/adventure/war heroes feel.  Did you ever see the movie, The 13th Warrior?  That's the kind of thing we get in this campaign.  It's a rollicking adventure, there are Big Piles of Dead Bad Guys (TM Wulf Ratbane), and we all have a huge amount of fun.  Personally, I'm really glad to be able to play in two quite different styles of game.  Long may it continue




Hi all, I'm the DM of this Glorious Adventure (or should I say Crusade????).

At the moment, my plans consist of 5-6 more sessions (we play about once a month or less). If at that point everyone wants to continue, I probably will. I still have the Giants Trilogy to play around with after all     

It'll depend on the players really.

By the way, Capellan, thanks for the comments, it is what I'm aiming at actually.

Just one question though, why is it "ironic" that I'm not in Evil mode?

Dave


----------



## Capellan

The Padre said:
			
		

> Just one question though, why is it "ironic" that I'm not in Evil mode?





How about I post the next update, and people can answer that question for themselves?


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 6th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Fourth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

My apologies for the long delay between reports.  Although the Sahuagin menace has been defeated, the cost to Saltmarsh has been heavy, and there has been a great deal of work to do.  At last, however, the most pressing matters have been resolved, and I have time to write without constant interruptions.

First, I am pleased to confirm that the Chapel to our Lord is under construction.  It will be a modest but stout-walled building, utilising the site of the old manor house on the cliff, which I have had destroyed.  The ruin served no useful purpose, and was a breeding place for vermin: both human and otherwise.  Now the land and the caves beneath it will be put to far better purpose.

I plan eventually to make my home in a barracks room beneath the Chapel, but for now I reside in the rear of the Sheriff's offices.  The previous occupant was one of the many casualties in the battle against the Sahuagin, and as I was by far the best qualified to take his place - far better qualified than he, in truth - I have assumed the role.

The village council also suffered losses during the fighting, commensurate with the casualties suffered throughout the village.  These casualties were heavy, indeed.  In the final reckoning, the people of Saltmarsh fought and died with bravery, but little skill or strategy, which cost them dearly.  It has also cost me, at least financially, for I have dug deep into my own purse to assist in the reconstruction of the town, and in seeking out new settlers for now-empty shops and farms.  Our faith has gained a foothold here, and I will not relinquish it, short of death.

My philanthropy was not without design, however.  Nor did it go without reward.  As I said, the council has been decimated by the fighting, and many vacancies existed upon it: too many vacancies to fill, if truth be told.  But one spot at least has been occupied: I now stand a full member of the village council, with the privileges and powers this entails, in addition to my role as sheriff.  Hard times demand strength of will, and clarity of purpose, and - whatever else they may think of me - these folk of Saltmarsh know I possess both, as does our Lord Hextor.

As I have written above, the battle with the sahuagin had a high cost, one caused largely by the poor strategy implemented by the previous council.  A strategy that began with the reconnaissance mission they asked me to lead.  Although the lizardfolk already knew the layout of the Sahuagin lair - the complex had, after all, belonged to them before the Sahuagin attacked - the council desired confirmation of the interior, and an estimate of the enemy's numbers and strength.  This showed a commendable desire to 'know they enemy'.  However, it ignored the reality of the situation.

First, the complex offered only one point of entry above the ocean's surface.  There were several submarine entrances, but these would be of no use to my force.  This meant that we also had only one route of exit from the complex, a serious limitation on any plan I could develop.

Additionally, everything the lizardfolk could tell us indicated that these Sahuagin were strong fighters, with disciplined troops and intelligent commanders.  They would have to be, in my estimation, to drive the lizardfolk out of their home.  This meant that there would be a rapid and organised response, the moment the alarm was raised.  It would also mean that plans would be in place to ensure that the alarm could be raised as quickly as possible in the event of an attack being discovered.

With this in mind, I made clear to the council, and to those who would accompany me on the expedition, that the success of the mission relied _entirely_ upon being able to enter the sahuagin lair without the alarm being raised.  With only one exit available, any attempt to press on once the alarm was raised would inevitably end with my force being surrounded and destroyed.  I have read the accounts of Rahless Gorge, and know what befalls a force that trusts to a single escape route, when that route cannot be kept secure from the enemy.

Given that I would be leading only a small reconnaissance force, right into the heart of the enemy's base, there were simply not enough troops to secure the escape route.  Success would rely upon breaching the gates without the alarm being raised, then conducting a rapid exploration and withdrawal.  I repeated this fact several times during discussions with the council, warning them against expecting too much from the mission.  I then set about developing a plan that would allow us to achieve the first and most important condition for success: entry into the base without the alarm being raised.

I will freely admit that the fault for the failure of my plan must rest with me.  Although I developed a strategy that allowed us to breach the main gates and kill all the guards without the alarm being sounded, I had failed to allow for a second, inner gate.  It took almost a minute for that gate to be broached, during which time we came under heavy missile fire.

Knowing that at the very least, runners would have been dispatched to alert the rest of the Sahuagin forces, I ordered the retreat.  This was the only option in the circumstances.  We would withdraw, and await the reaction of the Sahuagin.  It was likely that they would send out patrols, and I planned to ambush one, then interrogate any prisoners we took for the information that the council had requested.

I believe this revised plan had an excellent chance of success.  However, my instructions were ignored.

Zalich, Troilan, Julianne and Brodnak - abetted by the troops Saltmarsh had provided - insisted that no alarm had been raised, and that it was safe to continue.  I told them to press on would mean their deaths, and refused to join such folly.

Which is why I am the only survivor of the mission.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Capellan said:
			
		

> Which is why I am the only survivor of the mission.




 !

Since it seems obligatory at this point... _Noooooo!_


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> Which is why I am the only survivor of the mission.





 Padre, while your players attest that you're not evil and I am obliged to believe them, I see that you let the cards fall where they may.  I've always respected that.


 Cap, I think Kull is an excellent example of  how to play a LN character.  Lawful Neutral doesn't mean Lawful Stupid.


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> Which is why I am the only survivor of the mission.



This is actually what happened:

We gained access to the front door by cleverly disguising ourselves as bad green guys and using the halfling as a "prisoner". Once they let us in, we discovered that there was a portcullis past the front door with lots of bad green guys behind it who fired at us. We got through the door and killed them. Kull was convinced that a messenger was sent out and proceeded to leave. Brodnak called him a big wuss to no effect, so we decided to hastily reconoiter the top floor leaving the Saltmarsh contingent and Zalichs raven Poe to guard and act as a warning. 

We succeeded in clearing out the top floor pretty quickly, but were slightly injured so decided to hole up in a secret room that hadn't been discovered by the bad green guys. We assumed they hadn't found it because it was full of exciting loot, which they surely would have taken otherwise.

It was while we were holed up in the secret room that Poe the raven started empathically letting Zalich know that he was scared. Zalich ran off to "save" his raven, and not wanting the little tike to get snotted, we went with him.

We arrived in the front room to be confronted by a lot of dead Saltmarshers and a lot of live bad green guys. Brodnak was held by the shaman and rendered useless throughout the fight as I had to watch my compatriots die one by one. He was a very angry and very still barbarian.

For the record, Poe flew away and survived.

If we stayed in the secret room and waited for the furore to die down, we probably would have been fine.

There is some good to come out of this though... We will be getting another point of view from my new character, Gnorric the Wizard!


----------



## Brodnak

Ow! *thud*...

*gurgle*


----------



## Lela

> There is some good to come out of this though... We will be getting another point of view from my new character, Gnorric the Wizard!



 Well, that is good news.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

See what happens when you are not strong in faith? 

Hopefully the new recruits will be more impressive to Kull's eyes. He can't exactly be more dismissive of them, after all.


----------



## Joshua Randall

If I were one of the other players, I'd be pissed that Kull survived and my character didn't. However as I am not one of the other players I can laugh out loud at their foolishness!

[Nelson] Hah, hah! [/Nelson]


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Well, personally, I'm rather sad they all bit the dust (as sad as one can be about Story Hour characters, but you know...).  Can't say Kull did the wrong thing, though.  And if he had bought it too, then we wouldn't be offered his unique perspective anymore.


----------



## arwink

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> If I were one of the other players, I'd be pissed that Kull survived and my character didn't.




Fortunately, I have a more...philosophical...approach to character death.


----------



## Lazybones

I just read this entire story during a particularly slow afternoon at work. 

I was enjoyable, an interesting contrast to CotRE.  The Kull character is compelling and the format of the entries as reports to a superior is just brilliant.  I find that I do not care the slightest what happens to the other characters (which is just as well, given what happened).  I haven't been so focused on one character since Wulf's story hour. 

My only suggestion: don't give away the "ending" in the first post.  I found myself waiting for the TPK all the way through the story, and when it finally came, it was quite anti-climatic.  

I'd be interesting to hear more OOC perspective on that event.  In particular, Kull's outright refusal to continue into the complex.  It sounds like one of those things that can kill a game, but from what's been said your group is taking it with a rather more prosaic attitude.  

And wasn't he in nominal command of the Saltmarsh contingent?  This is the thing that throws it for me, why would a general order his troops into what he perceived as certain death?


----------



## Capellan

> I haven't been so focused on one character since Wulf's story hour.




High praise indeed 



> I'd be interesting to hear more OOC perspective on that event. In particular, Kull's outright refusal to continue into the complex. It sounds like one of those things that can kill a game, but from what's been said your group is taking it with a rather more prosaic attitude.




Mantreus' description of events is pretty accurate.  Of those of us currently playing in the game, one wasn't at this session (he was at the goblin game, though you wouldn't know it from Kull's description - he plays the elven druid), one was Mantreus (who took it pretty well) and the last was arwink (who is generally surprised when his characters last more than 4 or 5 sessions, and thus figured it was time for Zalich to expire, anyway  ).



> And wasn't he in nominal command of the Saltmarsh contingent? This is the thing that throws it for me, why would a general order his troops into what he perceived as certain death?




He didn't: he told them to leave, but they mutineed, and followed the other adventurers.


Edit: first post of the thread has now been changed, per Lazybones' suggestion, once I figured out what he was talking about.  Obviously I'm a bit slow, this morning


----------



## arwink

And while Kull thinks he's in charge, the rest of us more or less just run riot behind his back.

Or did, as the case may be.


----------



## Mantreus

Lazybones said:
			
		

> I'd be interesting to hear more OOC perspective on that event.  In particular, Kull's outright refusal to continue into the complex.  It sounds like one of those things that can kill a game, but from what's been said your group is taking it with a rather more prosaic attitude.



The way I saw it, I kinda understood that it was something that Kull wouldn't do, so I respected Capellan for that. In the same vein, Brodnak was very angry with Kull, but I was fine with Capellan.

As a player I thought that continuing may very well get Brodnak killed, but considering that Brodnak was a simple fellow that liked to hit things, I didn't think it would be something that he would do.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 6th Report - Part 2*

The journey back to Saltmarsh took nearly two weeks, as I had no option but to travel overland, through difficult and swampy terrain.  Thus, by the time I arrived back in the village, the final confrontation with the Sahuagin had already occurred.  The alliance of four races; human, sea elf, locathah and lizardfolk; had defeated the enemy, but casualties had been very heavy.  Numerous buildings in Saltmarsh were deserted, their former occupants either slain or fled.

Although I was too late to lend my flail to the battle, the bloody flood of injured was still in full flow, overwhelming the handful of clerics and healers the town had marshalled.  I set myself to assist in this task, and saved many warriors who would otherwise have died.

Once the wards had been cleared of wounded, I took up the role of sheriff, which had gone unoccupied since the battle with the sahuagin.  Checking the previous incumbent's files, I found a great deal of material on the actions of Vincent Reims, the oily proprietor of the local luxuries shop.  Reims, a slug-like and sycophantic individual, had always struck me as suspiciously prosperous.  Certainly he had never been troubled by the expense of purchasing valuable items I had recovered in my adventures.

Reading through the files, it became clear that the previous sheriff had amassed a huge wealth of circumstantial evidence against Reims, linking him to the smuggling ring that I had destroyed, but had lacked the courage or conviction to put him to the question on his activities.  I, on the other hand, suffered no such lack.

At the very next council meeting - a small and sorry affair, with only three of the members surviving, including Reims himself - I confronted the oily merchant, compelling him to speak only the truth, for Hextor's gaze was upon him.

The merchant did his best to dissemble, but his will was no match for his fear of our Lord, and he crumbled into confession, admitting his sins against the town.  For myself, I would have put him to death on the spot, but the other councillors merely banished him, confiscating all his goods in the process.  Once sold, these items will contribute much to restoring the town's lost wealth.

With Reims dealt with, and the council reduced to two, I demanded the right to take his place.  In light of the services I had given the town, and the need it would have of me in the future, I claimed this as no more than my right.  Though initially taken aback, the remaining councillors - the innkeep and the Pelorite priest - accepted the validity of my claim with comparative grace.

In the month since those events I have won the right of free worship for Hextor within the town, and begun the construction of the Chapel where services will be held.  This should be complete within the month, and will include quarters and storerooms to support a detachment of up to twenty men, should the need arise.

I have also recommenced my program of training for the local militia.  The number of able-bodied men and women is much lower than it was before the battle with the sahuagin, but those that remain have a much greater appreciation for the need of the skills I am teaching.  Most have shown a marked improvement in their weapon craft, though none display any real ability for command.  This is not a significant concern while I remain in the town, but if Hextor's Will leads elsewhere, they will have need of a properly trained officer to take command.  As soon as I am able, I plan to travel to the city of Mellin, and consult at the warrior's guild about hiring a man with the necessary skills.

In the mean time, I have been reviewing the populace of the town to see who may possess useful skills, should further troubles arise in this area.  These prospective resources have been assisted by the return of several young men from the south, where they had been serving in the army.  Those hostilities have now ended, and they have returned to their homes to resume their prior occupations.  I have selected the most promising of these men as my deputy, and appointed him Corporal of the militia.

The elven druid I rescued from the goblins has also spent some time in the village recently.  While I find his superstitious faith as ridiculous as that of the late, unlamented fool who died on the smuggler's ship, his knowledge of the swamp has been quite useful in establishing patrol routes for the region, and identifying potentially dangerous areas of ground.  It appears to be his intent to remain in or near the town for the foreseeable future.

Finally, I have been advised by my fellow councillors that a wizard has recently petitioned for permission to open a store for the sale of 'unusual items' within Saltmarsh.  The Pelorite appears most uncomfortable about the fellow who has made the application, suggesting that he has an 'unsavoury look'.  For myself, I am far less interested in his looks than I am in his capabilities.  A properly trained wizard would be a useful addition to the forces at my command.  A council meeting has been called for tomorrow evening, to interview this wizard.  Provided he has a proper regard for the laws of the town, I intend to ensure that his application is accepted.

I shall report again once the Chapel is complete.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

I have come to Saltmarsh in the hope that they will receive my ideas more readily than Mellin. The need for more manual labour can only be a good thing. In Mellin, there were only labourers and teamsters. There was resentment from the existing workforce. This is where I went wrong, I see that now.

From what I understand of Saltmarsh, they’re a fairly backward community that has had quite a bit of upheaval of late. They’ve lost a lot of their young population to the Fishmen invasion, so why not re-animate their bodies as zombies and skeletons and still have them toiling the fields and bringing in the nets?

Why can’t people see past the rotting bodies and realise that the dead are being wasted!?

My research must continue, so I will present my ideas to the town council of Saltmarsh and see if I can convince them to let me open a shop for unusual items. This will permit me to continue my research and fund it at the same time. Of course, I’ll be able to sell my ideas to the populace over time as well…
____

That would have to be the most bizarre town council this side of the ocean. I walked into the council meeting and I saw the innkeeper from the inn I’m staying at, a Priest of Pelor and a half-orc Priest of Hextor who was the size of a small house! I must make a note in my research to see if musculature can be translated into zombie form. I’m sure that someone of this clerics strength would prove as useful in death as he would in life.

The town council was reluctant to allow me to set up business at first. I thought they were kidding when they asked for five thousand gold pieces to purchase the old abandoned shop, but it appears that they are not.

I also informed them about my interests towards the necromantic, and the innkeeper and Pelorite where very reluctant. It was the half-orc Hextorite, Kull that vouched for me. He gave them the assurance that he would keep an eye on me. As my intentions are innocent, I have no problem with this.

As I would need to raise just under five thousand gold, I offered my magical services to the town to help me raise sufficient funds to help me buy my shop. Kull informed me that we would talk about this and they sent me on my way with the caveat that I perform no necromantic experimentation in the town precincts.
____

Well, my arrival in this little town just gets more interesting! I was sitting in my room at the inn reading “Putrefaction – How The Body Rots”. An excellent read, I’m glad I picked it up before leaving. Some of the information in this book is proving invaluable. Most people have a problem with the way the dead smell, which is perfectly understandable, as they can get quite rancid. This book has given me ideas on how to reduce these effects and hopefully make the undead smell a bit nicer. Now to find a body… 

However, I digress. I was reading my book when a cry went up about the town and bells were ringing and shouts issued forth. Then the bell stopped ringing rather suddenly. I grabbed my gear and ran out of my room to be almost knocked over by a rather frightening looking fellow with a longspear and leather armour. After some very short introductions as we ran down the stairs (his name was Aramil I think and he is a Druid) we appeared outside where there was a great commotion.

Townsfolk were running out to towards the bridge before the south road and setting up some hasty defences. Aramil asked the innkeeper (I must remember to ask his name) what the commotion was about and told us that the south guard post had probably been overrun. Aramil offered to investigate, and I joined him in the hope of proving useful in some way.

As we moved away from the main crowd, a large crocodile appeared out of the underbrush. I leapt back and began to cast a simple bolt of energy at it before making room for the Druid to dispatch it, but Aramil stopped me with a simple “He’s with me.” With a snort of greeting, it came in step with us.

We came to the guard shack and everything was quiet, however we could see some feet sticking out of the door in an obviously prone position. Aramil and I cautiously moved into the shack and were immediately pounced on by what can only be described as a huge bipedal newt!

The druid obviously knew how to handle himself in a fight, but the newt creature seemed to be a match for him until the crocodile got involved.  It lashed out with its tail and slapped the newt knocking him against the door so violently it cracked, as did the back of the newts skull, rendering it lifeless. Aramil smiled and scratched his crocodile behind his eyes, to which it growled appreciably. These druid types are definitely a strange bunch.

Suddenly, shouting and screams arose in the centre of town.  Instructing his crocodile to guard the body, Aramil took off to investigate.  I was tempted to stay and inspect the body of the newt-man, but I did not like the way the crocodile was eyeing me - most unnerving! - so I hurried after him to see what the commotion was about.


----------



## Elder-Basilisk

It seems everyone's getting into the act with the creepy characters. I don't know if that's a good thing. . . .


----------



## arwink

It was one of the aftereffects of the near TPK.  REalistically speaking, if you have a hextorite preist turning a wilderness town into a militant bastion of his faith, it's hard to rationalise a group of cheerful Good types showing up to do anything other than being a pain in the neck and opposing him.  So the decision was made that everyone would create neutral characters in some way shape or form, and they'd show up to help forge a new, more striking destiny for Saltmarsh that didn't involve being fleeced for all we were worth when bringing home treasure.

That being said, my new character wasn't creepy.  Wil was just your typical, everyday farmboy who goes away to war, spends three years learning to sneak up behind people and cut them apart, then comes home to find his father dead.

He actually liked saltmarsh and wanted to see it safe, which is about as far from Zalich as you can get


----------



## Mantreus

Elder-Basilisk said:
			
		

> It seems everyone's getting into the act with the creepy characters. I don't know if that's a good thing. . . .



 I wouldn't really describe Gnorric as "creepy", more "misguided". He has a one track mind and actually means well.

Why waste perfectly good dead people when you can have them acting as labourers and hat stands


----------



## GreyShadow

Mantreus said:
			
		

> I wouldn't really describe Gnorric as "creepy", more "misguided". He has a one track mind and actually means well.
> 
> Why waste perfectly good dead people when you can have them acting as labourers and hat stands




Sounds perfectly fine by me.


----------



## Joshua Randall

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Aramil and I cautiously moved into the shack and were immediately pounced on by what can only be described as a huge bipedal newt!



Insert obligatory _Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail_ joke here.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

This was my favourite line:



> Why can’t people see past the rotting bodies and realise that the dead are being wasted!?



Entirely fair comment, I think.


----------



## Lela

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> Insert obligatory _Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail_ joke here.



 Oh, c'mon, he got better.


I'm loving the new perspective Mantreus, keep it up.

And Cap, I'd watch out for the cleric of Pelor on that council.  I hadn't noticed him before but he could be a problem.  Though I think it's really cool to see both a Pelorite and a Hextorian on oppisite ends of a council.  Especially with the simple peasent in between them.  Priceless.


----------



## Capellan

Pfah.  The Pelorite is a threat only inasmuch as he might get scared and run crying to his mummy ... or at least, some bunch of nosey Paladins (which is the DM's favourite threat to use on us if we get out of hand  ).

The text below is not a real update (though there will hopefully be one of those, later), but just a teaser of things to come:





Hroltar Turkadsson
Commander, Black Iron Chapter




Commander,

The half-orc actually appears to be achieving results.  Send someone to keep an eye on him.  The last thing we want is for him to squander the opportunity, now that he's found it.


Visehart.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 7th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Sixth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

It seems there are no end to the threats which loom over Saltmarsh.  As soon as one is dispatched, another appears.

You will have heard, of course, of the fighting which has arisen in the lands to the north.  There has been a steady flow of troops through the town in the past few days, and while none of them had much of import to tell, it is plain that a major conflict is brewing there.  Some of the units that have passed through have been from foreign powers.  Will Shepherdson, my deputy, bridled at this.  The very people he spent years fighting now ride without hindrance through his home.  I have pointed out to him the fact that they come now as allies, not enemies, but he is a simple villager, and takes little to the dictates of logic.

This conflict, however, is not the matter of which I speak.  It is still distant, though I do not trust that it will long remain that way, if the defences of the rest of the nation are as poorly maintained as those of this town were, before my arrival.

No, the threat of which I speak arose much closer to the village.  It has now been dispatched, but the information which took was uncovered in the course of its defeat is, I believe, of considerable import.  I have attached an analysis of this information, including copies of two maps, to this missive.  I urge you to direct your attention to these items immediately, as they outline what I discovered, and the steps I plan to take in response to this knowledge.

In the report below, I will deal with the events of the past two weeks in chronological order, so that you may understand how I came by the information in question.

Events began about a week after the arrival of the wizard, Gnorric, to whom I referred in my last message.  The man - who looks much like a skeleton himself, in truth - has some bizarre idea that the dead are a wasted resource.  His plan, as he describes it, is to try and persuade the world of the value of the undead as labourers.  A foolish notion, to my mind, and one that quite evidently alarmed the other members of the council.

Whatever my personal feelings about the subject, however, there was no doubting that the man understood the principles of magic, and - most importantly - the process by which weapons and armour can be enchanted.  This alone made his toleration in the town imperative to my needs, and - having given him stern instructions not to conduct his experiments within the town - I secured exactly that: toleration.

As I stated, about a week after this Gnorric arrived, a new threat endangered the town.  During the middle of the night, the alarm bell began to sound, indicating that hostile creatures had been seen near the town.  I immediately took up my shield and flail to investigate, but by the time I arrived, the attack had been driven off.  It emerged that the attackers had been giant, newt-like humanoids (the entire area seems to be infested with these different strains of beast-men: lizardfolk, sahuagin, and now these creatures).  Although they had been driven off, only one had been killed, and two more captured, while the rest had escaped with no fewer than ten female captives of their own.

My deputy reported that it had been Gnorric and the elven druid who had slain the single newt casualty, and a spell of the wizard's which had disabled the other two.  I thanked them on behalf of the village for their actions, and bade them remain nearby, as I might have further use for them.

I then turned my attention to the prisoners, and interrogated them as to their reason for attacking the town.  Gnorric proved useful in this endeavour, as he understood their tongue.  After some time, it became clear that the purpose of their attack had been to gather food, and that females had been abducted as they found them 'more tender'.  I immediately began questioning them as to where the women would be taken, and how many others of their kind there were.  They lacked sufficient understanding of maps to point out the location of their base when one was shown to them, but from the distance and direction it became clear that they made their homes in a ruin that was located approximately half-a-day's travel from the lizardfolk.

I did not know anything of this ruin, myself, but I knew that it would not have gone unnoticed by the lizardfolk.  Thus, I immediately made plans to travel and see them, with the intent of learning the ruin's exact location, and retrieving whichever of the women still survived.

Dispatching my deputy to gather food and supplies for the journey, and to arrange for a boat to carry us to the lizardfolk's home, I called upon the wizard and the druid to join the expedition.  I reminded them that the druid's knowledge of the swamp, and the wizard's spells, would both help ensure the safe return of any survivors, as well as earning the town's gratitude, and an equal share of any treasure.

No doubt it was this last incentive which secured their cooperation.


----------



## arwink

More entries in the Kull/Common translation dictionary.

My Deputy: The first person to point out that taking charge of militia, then living in a church a half-hour out of town, isn't going to help.  Saltmarshes are still incapable of doing anything for themselves when it comes to fighting, they apparently have to be told who to attack and when.

Simple Villager: exactly as he says.  Will is not the brightest of sparks


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

We arrived in town to find a large group of people menacing a pair of the newt men that were holding a local woman hostage. No one was willing to make a move as they feared what the newt-men may do to the woman.

From the corner of my eye, I spied a leather-clad man with a bow climbing the side of the building that the newt-men were backed against. I pointed him out to Aramil and we realised that the situation was about to get violent.

As expected, the leather-clad man fired an arrow into the shoulder of one of the newt-men and everything happened at once. I fired a beam of energy into the arrowed newt-man, but it appeared to have little effect. The druid started moving forward. It was then that I noticed that the other newt was about to cut the throat of the woman! I hastily cast a sleeping spell on the pair in the hope they wouldn’t be able to resist its effects.

Luckily, both newts fell asleep instantly, dropping to the ground. The villagers gave a collective sigh of relief as Kull arrived. He instantly took charge and instructed the villagers to “secure the perimeter” and other equally military sounding instructions. Not surprisingly, most of the armed villagers rushed off to do his bidding.

Kull picked up both the newt-men and gestured at me to follow, grumbling something about acting as an interpreter. The leather-clad man from the roof lithely climbed down and joined us, introducing himself as Will, a local to Saltmarsh who had recently returned from a war to the south of the Duchy. Kull seemed to know him as well and instructed him to join us. Others from the village followed out of curiosity.

We proceeded to what appeared to be the town sheriffs office where Kull awoke them and started to berate them in a number of different languages, none of which they seemed to understand. I attempted to speak to them and found they spoke a dialect of Draconic, so I acted as interpreter for Kull. Initially, the newts were tight lipped, refusing to say anything useful apart from calling us “disgusting warm things”. Kull quickly tired of this and promptly broke a newts ankles with his bare hands! Some of the townsfolk were horrified and left looking a bit green about the gills. From that point on, the newts were more helpful.

We ascertained that the newts had recently moved into an abandoned watchtower in the middle of the swamp to the south and that they wanted the women for food. No one seemed to have heard of this watchtower however, so it was decided that a delegation would head out to see the Lizardmen the following day to see if they were aware of where this watchtower may be.

Once this information was gleaned, Kull rather abruptly killed them both. Unfortunately, he used his flail, thereby reducing their heads to mush making it difficult for me to examine their brains for my research. Either way, who would want a zombie with a squished in face? It’s not very pleasant really. 
______

I have been reading some of the teachings from the order of Wee Jas. I like the way these people think. According to them death isn’t an end but a beginning, which is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell people. The next time I’m in Mellin, I believe I will go and talk to the local priestess, I’m sure we would have lots to talk about. I can introduce my familiar, Wee Bat. I’m sure they’d appreciate the gesture.

Speaking of Wee Bat, I believe we have come to a new level of understanding with each other. My studies have warned me that this might happen, but it was still a surprise when I my little fellow started muttering about “sweet berries” as he was having some dinner. I’ve found that I can understand and talk to him fully now. I think he’s starting to tire of my constant talking about my research though.

Oh yes, for some reason, I have been elected to go on the delegation to the Lizardmen, apparently my performance during the town attack impressed some people. That and I speak the language. Somehow I don’t think we’ll be doing a lot of talking however.

Kull mentioned the possibility of treasure, which will come in very handy in raising funds for my shop, so I’m actually quite looking forward to this little adventure.

We leave early in the morning, so I had better finish reading and get some sleep…


----------



## Dungannon

Mantreus said:
			
		

> The villagers gave a collective sigh of relief as Kull arrived. He instantly took charge and instructed the villagers to “secure the perimeter” and other equally military sounding instructions....Kull quickly tired of this and promptly broke a newts ankles with his bare hands! Some of the townsfolk were horrified and left looking a bit green about the gills. From that point on, the newts were more helpful....Once this information was gleaned, Kull rather abruptly killed them both. Unfortunately, he used his flail, thereby reducing their heads to mush making it difficult for me to examine their brains for my research. Either way, who would want a zombie with a squished in face? It’s not very pleasant really. ...for some reason, I have been elected to go on the delegation to the Lizardmen, apparently my performance during the town attack impressed some people. That and I speak the language. Somehow I don’t think we’ll be doing a lot of talking however.



Ahh, I think I'm going to really enjoy Gnorric's take on this SH.


----------



## Mantreus

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Ahh, I think I'm going to really enjoy Gnorric's take on this SH.



I'm glad you like it. I'm really enjoying playing Gnorric, he's a constant source of amusement to the rest of the party  He's always poking at the stuff we kill..

Also, because Kull is relatively "factual" and succinct in his reports, it allows me to highlight how single minded, violent and deluded he can be


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Which is to say, that Kull's a focused man [edit: half-orc?] of action who won't let inconsequential facts get in his way.


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> I'm glad you like it. I'm really enjoying playing Gnorric, he's a constant source of amusement to the rest of the party  He's always poking at the stuff we kill..
> 
> Also, because Kull is relatively "factual" and succinct in his reports, it allows me to highlight how single minded, violent and deluded he can be



 Oh, we completely agree with you on Kull.  It's just that you're the new guy and we're trying to help you catch up with Cap in terms of praise.

Cap's hat size may get a bit smaller but that's okay.  It's four times what it was when this started already.


----------



## Mantreus

Lela said:
			
		

> Oh, we completely agree with you on Kull.  It's just that you're the new guy and we're trying to help you catch up with Cap in terms of praise.
> 
> Cap's hat size may get a bit smaller but that's okay.  It's four times what it was when this started already.



Oh, I'm well aware of Capellans hat size.. Not only do I game with him, I work with him as well. Sheesh, I might actually see more of Cap than I do my wife! 

I was actually quite nervous about posting in this story hour, with the likes of Capellan and Arwink posting before me... but you've all been very kind. And it's not like it's hard to write through someone like Gnorric. He's just full of great lines


----------



## Mortepierre

Any chance of an update of the Rogues Gallery? (both for Kull and the new arrivals)


----------



## Capellan

Kull at 6th level (his current level) is already in the Rogues Gallery.  Once I've converted him to 3.5e, I'll also be posting him again.

As for the others ... Mantreus?  Arwink?


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> Kull at 6th level (his current level) is already in the Rogues Gallery.  Once I've converted him to 3.5e, I'll also be posting him again.
> 
> As for the others ... Mantreus?  Arwink?



I can add Gnorric once I get him converted, and in PCGen preferrably


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Could we get the stats of the late and lamented, as at the time of their death?


----------



## arwink

I'm afraid stats for Zalich are out.  AS Capellan pointed out, I tend to burn through characters pretty quickly.  By this point, Zalich's sheet has been converted into something else...


----------



## Capellan

Brodnak, Julianne and Troilan are all up in the RG, with their stats as they were at the start of the session where they died.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Danke, Capellan.

They're lower level than I thought they would be....


----------



## Mantreus

Thomas Hobbes said:
			
		

> Danke, Capellan.
> 
> They're lower level than I thought they would be....



We appear more powerful because we have the "mad skillz" and create lots of dead bad guys...


----------



## arwink

Wait, Brodnak killed some bad guys?  Was I there that day?  Did they catch colds fromt he sword going _swish swish swish_ so close?


----------



## Mantreus

arwink said:
			
		

> Wait, Brodnak killed some bad guys?  Was I there that day?  Did they catch colds fromt he sword going _swish swish swish_ so close?



Hey look, one bad episode with some goblins, and I get this bad rep... *sigh*


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

The trip to Lizardfolk caves is going uneventfully, so I am catching up on some reading whenever we stop for a rest. I’m also getting to know my companions a little better.

Will seems to be a bit of a quandary to me. He obviously has a great deal of martial and scouting skill and knowledge, so is more than capable of independent thought, but seems quite happy to follow orders from Kull. It’s almost like he has become so used to taking orders that he can’t function without them. Apart from that, he seems like quite an amiable fellow. He has these amazing boots that allow him to leap great distances; it was quite unnerving to watch at first. Kull would order him to scout ahead and he would just jump away in the blink of an eye! As for my ideas, he thinks them strange, but is happy for me to have them as long as I keep my “unnatural” work away from his mother. I believe I can have him and his mother using automated workers before the year is out however! It only makes sense after all.

Speaking of automations, we have Kull. I appreciate the support he has given me with the town council, and his faith in my abilities on this particular venture. However, his social skills are negligible, if they exist at all. I initially thought the way he treated the townsfolk during the newt attack abrupt but fair considering the circumstances. What I have come to realise after two days travel, is that it appears that he treats everyone like this. I attempted to talk of my work to him and he simply declared, “The use of undead is for the weak”. Even though I have no plans of using them in a violent way, he still seemed indifferent to my ideas. Attempts to talk to him of anything other than facts relating to our mission resulted in grunts or outright ignorance. Begin to talk of religion however, and he’ll espouse the virtues of Hextor till he is blue in the face. I thought we may have found some common ground due to my interests in the teachings of Wee Jas, but he dismissed her as “weak” and “female”. All in all, a most exasperating fellow.

Aramil is a very quiet fellow and spends most of his time with his crocodile. That sort of thing can’t be healthy really. When I talked to him of my ideas, he smiled at me and looked over my left shoulder.

It appears the only people I can talk to are Will and my Wee Bat. Wee Bat is enjoying the swamp; there are lots of interesting bugs and things for him to eat. I sometimes wish he would keep his enjoyment to himself however.
_________

Well, we have seen the Lizardfolk. They seem quite nice, abet a little creepy with all their hissing and so forth. Kull asked them if they knew of the newts, and they knew exactly where they were, some ancient abandoned watchtower called Kraal. Kull seemed pretty annoyed that the Lizardfolk didn’t share this knowledge with us, but took it well considering. The Lizardfolk have given us an amulet to identify us as friends in case we encounter their patrols. We are staying in their caves tonight and heading out in the morning. All this moisture is ruining my books. I must think of a better way of keeping them dry.
_________

We arrived at Kraal in the mid-afternoon and Will used his impressive boots to jump over a rotted wall to let us in through the front door. Quite brave of him really, there could have been anything on the other side.

Kull ordered Will to take a quick look around and I cast a shield of force about myself, just in case. Will returned letting us know that he found one room that was empty, and another that was full of spider webs. Kull decided to press on to other part of the tower, as these didn’t seem like much of a threat.

We came to a room where we found a delegation of Lizardfolk, Kull seemed to know them and got quite irate with them. It appears they were there to see what the newts’ intentions were in the area. Eventually, they agreed to stay where they were till we returned. They offered no help however, which caused Kull to start muttering about “weak lizards” and “Hextors wrath”.

We continued on and were jumped by a group of newts in what appeared to be an old office or some such. Will looked very impressive leaping about and tumbling all over the place. Kull and Aramil with his crocodile were slightly more direct in their approach. I’m afraid I didn’t fair very well. I attempted to sleep them as I did the others back in Saltmarsh, but they resisted the effects. I tried shooting one with my crossbow, but with the others in the way, I missed him. More newts arrived from behind us and I tried to entangle them in a magical web, but they were too close and I was unable to release the spell before being cut down where I stood. It was most painful and unpleasant.


----------



## Lela

> Aramil is a very quiet fellow and spends most of his time with his crocodile. That sort of thing can’t be healthy really. When I talked to him of my ideas, he smiled at me and looked over my left shoulder.



 Oh goodness, another one of those perfect lines.  I love this guy.  Don't anyone let him die.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 7th Report - Part 2*

The journey to the lizardfolk stronghold was uneventful.  They were able to confirm the location of the Newts' fort.  They did not offer assistance in retrieving the lost villagers, but I was provided with a symbol of the clan, so that lizardfolk patrols would know we were friends, if we encountered them.  Even this limited assistance proved to have an ulterior motive: one of the first things we encountered in the Newts' lair was a diplomatic envoy from the lizardfolk, come to negotiate peaceful relations.

I made it clear to the envoy that I would consider any such agreement a hostile act, unless and until all the kidnapped women were returned, unharmed.  The envoy responded to this with evasive remarks: it seems the lizardfolk are fickle allies.  I shall remember that.  When I left him, I bade him remain in his chambers until we returned: if I saw him elsewhere in the fort, I would treat him as an enemy.

But I have got ahead of myself: the Newts' had made their home in an abandoned fort, half-sunk in the swamp.  I led the approach, and we reached the doors without being detected - very poor security and discipline on the part of our enemies.  Much of the fort's roof was missing, and this provided a means to gain entry and unlock the doors.

Once inside, we quickly encountered the envoy, then moved on to search the other rooms of the fort.  In one of these, we encountered three of the Newts.  These were quickly overcome, but the noise of the battle attracted several more of the creatures, including one of larger build, and carrying superior equipment.  Recognising that this must be their chief, or at least a war-leader, I immediately met him in battle, while leaving his minions for the others to defeat.  He proved a strong warrior, though an overly aggressive one.  He struck hard, but left himself open to counter-attacks, and after an exchange of blows I struck him down, shattering his jaw in the process.

With their leader fallen, the remaining Newts in the battle were quickly destroyed.  My forces - including myself - had taken heavy injuries in the fight, but none had fallen except Gnorric, though death seems less interested in him than he in it: the wizard still clung to life.  His performance in the battle had been disappointing, to say the least: he had cast only one spell, and even that had had no effect.  After healing him, I warned him that he would need to perform better, if he wished to survive against skilled opponents.

Once all our injuries had been attended to, I continued the exploration of the keep.  Much of the lower level was under several feet (or more) of water, while another section was sealed behind an ancient iron door.  I left these areas untouched for the moment, concentrating on those rooms which we could all easily explore.  These proved empty of either enemies or the village women.

With the accessible areas of the lower level dealt with, I led the way up to the battlements.  Halfway up the spiral stairs, I could hear the sounds of battle from above.  Not wanting to stumble into the middle of the fight, I sent Shepherdson ahead to scout.  He did so efficiently, and quickly returned to advise that a number of the Newts were involved in a fight with some strange, tentacled caterpillars, each nearly five feet long, which appeared to be able to paralyse their enemies.

Knowing that, whichever side won the battle, the other would be weaker for fighting it, I held the others back, waiting for the fight to come to an end.  Once the noises of combat ceased, I climbed up to view the results.  The strange caterpillar-creatures had won the battle, and now appeared to be slowly consuming the paralysed - and still-living - Newts.  Such would have been a just fate for them, but I did not wish to take the risk that any of them might escape, and therefore ordered the use of missile weapons to ensure their deaths.

This done, I left the carrion-eating creatures to their meal, and returned to the lower level.  There was nowhere on the battlements to hide the women, which meant that they must be within one of the areas that I had not explored.  There were four of these: the area behind the iron door, and three rooms which had been wholly or partly flooded.

One of these three flooded areas proved to be filled with enormous leeches, over a foot in length.  Knowing that any prisoners left amidst such creatures would soon have been nothing but empty husks, I saw no reason to press on into the area, and instead focussed on the other two: a large chamber so deeply submerged that it had thick clumps of reeds growing within it, and a long corridor down which I could hear a bass rumble, sounding like the croaking of toads, but magnified many times over.  The druid redundantly identified these noises as the calls of giant toads - even had I not been able to deduce this for myself, I was able to see far enough into the darkness to make out the creatures' shapes.

Plainly, if we wished to venture further down this corridor, the creatures would need to be destroyed.


----------



## Lela

I'm telling you Cap, you've helped me so much with my view on Hextor.  He's been a major figure in my campaign and now that it's coming to an end (hopefully they'll be fighting a fallon Hextor himself next session) I wanted to thank you again.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Hextor certainly doesn't look so bad when presented with such...reasonableness. Remind me to steal this character concept sometime.


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

I awoke to Kull treating my wounds, ordering the others to search to room and swearing at Wee Bat to get out of the way, the little fellow seemed quite distressed, bless him. Will found some women’s clothing that appeared to be of the type that the missing women were wearing when they were abducted. Will became quite agitated and emotional about the discovery. He appears to feel very strongly about his little town. I found it rather touching. Kull seemed not to care either way.

Once I was back on my feet with Kulls help I went to examine the bodies of the dead newts, however Kull informed me that we should continue on, I never did get a chance to go back and take a look. We found a part of the tower base that appeared to be an old jail. Kull decided that it would be too noisy to try and get in, so we would return later.

We then came to a large room that was mostly underwater, with tall reeds at one end. It appeared that Kulls helmet allowed him to breath underwater, so he went and took a look under the water along with Aramils crocodile, and returned to let us know that there was nothing interesting there.

We continued on to the other side of the tower and heard some rather unsettling croaking, unsettling because they sounded quite deep and foreboding. We also found some stairs going up and could hear the faint sounds of battle. Kull ordered Will up the stairs to see what was going on, and once again, Will took off without hesitation. He’s a very brave fellow.

Will returned to inform us that three newts were under attack by four giant centipedes with tentacles about their mouths. I had read about these Carrion Crawlers in my research, and I informed Kull of their abilities. We both agreed that we should let the crawlers do their work, as it was unlikely the newts could survive such an attack due to the crawlers’ ability to paralyse their victims. We waited for the sounds of battle to die down, and Will went back upstairs and fired arrows into the paralysed newts to ensure they did not get back up while the crawlers feasted upon their bodies. Once again, another wasted chance to examine the newt bodies.

We returned to the corridor where we heard the croaking and discovered three huge toads! They had exceptionally long tongues that they attempted to grab us with, but failed at the first attempt. Kull then did something that was rather impressive; he summoned a huge ugly ape with red fur and eyes of fire! A most impressive display, I must see if I can discover how this is done as it looked very impressive.

The fight that ensued was quite violent and noisy. The poor ape was almost chewed in half by one enormous toad. The others seemed to have the situation under control, so I stood back and let them do what they do best until the threat was disposed of. Once the battled was finished, the ape disappeared with a shimmer, which was a pity because I wanted to take a look at it.

The corridor continued on to what appeared to be a deep swirling pool. Kull moved ahead into the deeper water to investigate and was attacked by what appeared to be a wave of water!

Aramil seemed to understand the threat immediately and cast some sort of druidic spell on his crocodile that caused his teeth to become quite bright and scary looking. A pretty clever trick I thought. The crocodile then proceeded the bite the wave, which looked rather strange, but it actually seemed to hurt it. I thought that water wouldn’t like to be frozen, so I cast a freezing cantrip at it, that seemed to upset it as well, because it then rose up and washed over us all, except for Will, who rather nimbly jumped over it. The water was very cold and froze me to my core, I was still able to cast spells though and quickly zapped it with a bolt of magical energy. The others then quickly finished it off, with the wave slowly dissipating into nothing. All in all, a rather disturbing encounter. Who would have thought that water could get angry?

At the end of the hall, we discovered a perfect ball of crystal. I attempted to use some of my rudimentary scrying skills to scry myself with no effect. So it appears that it was not a scrying ball, we put it away to investigate later.

Will was becoming quite concerned, as the tower appeared to be empty and we still hadn’t discovered the whereabouts of the abducted women, so we quickly proceeded back to the corridor we first encountered on entering the complex. This also ended in a deep pool of water. Kull proceeded to investigate the deeper water, when we noticed that there were grey tongues of flesh attaching themselves to us. We quickly retreated and found that they were merely leeches. I was hoping that with their grey bodies they may have been some unheard of undead beings, but they were only leeches. I collected the ones I had scraped off my legs for Wee Bat to eat later.

We returned to the large room that was mostly underwater, as it was the only place left that we had not searched thoroughly. Will was getting quite distraught and immediately swam out to a large column that was sticking out of the water to get a better view of the reeds. Kull forged through the water as before and I could dimly make out his form through the murky water. He appeared to bend over and pick up something shiny, like a small ring. It was then that a huge crocodile, at least 30ft long attempted to swallow him.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

You finish on exciting moment just to tease us, don't you?


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## Mantreus

Tallarn said:
			
		

> You finish on exciting moment just to tease us, don't you?



 Uh oh, I think he's on to us!


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## Lela

Here's a fun spot.  You just might have the chance to do something that woudl completely unnerve the Druid by disecting the larger crocodile's brain.  With his Animal Companion I could just imagine his shudder.


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## arwink

Nah, crocs make good eating.  Wil would never stand for such a waste of food for something so disturbing as "Necromantic Research."


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## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> Nah, crocs make good eating.  Wil would never stand for such a waste of food for something so disturbing as "Necromantic Research."



 That's what _Sleep _spells are for.


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## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

With Kulls armour covered in spikes, the huge crocodile seemed reluctant to bite him and therefore missed him completely. I cast a sleeping spell on the crocodile, without effect. It was then that I saw something I’m not likely to see again. Kull pulled back his spiked mailed fist and punched the crocodile directly in the nose! I obviously hurt the beast as it went into a frenzied attack and bit Kull hard, picking him up off his feet and thrashing about causing the water to churn with the red tinge of Kulls blood.

I asked Wee Bat to touch the crocodile with a chilling touch spell, but the little dear couldn’t get close enough. Will then leapt off the column he was on with a battle cry on his lips, hitting the giant crocodile with a very impressive blow. This Will fellow has no fear I tell you! Unfortunately, the crocodile still had Kull in its mouth and thrashed again, causing him a grievous wound as the water became even darker with his blood.

Aramil sent his own crocodile in, which seemed quite small in comparison to this huge beast and I feared for its life. It appeared Aramil did too, as he had a rather distraught expression on his face. Kull broke free from the crocodiles mouth with a very impressive display of strength and retreated as did Will. It was then that we realised that the giant crocodile had a collar about its neck and could move no closer. Aramil began to call to his crocodile in that strange guttural call that he uses, but as Aramils crocodile was distracted by the call, the giant crocodile pounced and tore the druids crocodile in half. Aramil staggered back in shock and was most distraught. The poor fellow, they were very close.

Kull cast a spell that seemed to create a glowing disembodied weapon to float about the giant croc. I began firing my crossbow at it, and Will fired his bow. Once we realised that the giant croc could get no closer we made short work of it while Aramil sat at the side of the water looking lost.

Once Kull healed his grevious wounds, he went back into the water to investigate the thickets and the dead crocodile. In the thickets he discovered five women tied up by their feet and looking much worse for wear as well as a strong box. Kull instructed Will to help the women get out of the thicket and get some clothes on them. In the strong box were some potions and gold. Kull also found some reptilian eggs and a lacquered map.

Kull returned with the findings and we went back to talk to the Lizardfolk delegation along with some newly clothed women. Kull instructed them to take the women back to their caves ad we would pick them up on the way back to Saltmarsh once we were finished clearing out the watchtower. He also told them in no uncertain terms that if they attempted to make peace with the newts ever again, they would have to deal with him and the wrath of Hextor and to inform us if the newts ever returned.

We returned to the underwater room with the giant crocodile and searched it more thoroughly. We found a completely submerged room with the remains of the rest of the women as well as a chest. Will was most distraught at the site of the dead women the poor fellow. We opened the chest and found a watertight scroll case. I was hoping it contained some arcane writings, but it contained a note referring to the crystal ball we found in the corridor with the impressive toads. It instructed the reader to place the ball anywhere in the castle and “it would do the rest”.

We returned to the room that appeared to be the jail and Kull attempted to break the padlock with his flail. He dealt it a mighty blow and the entire wall holding the barred door collapsed! Whatever you say about Kull, he is definitely a strong fellow! With the dust clearing about us, I saw Kull attempting to set fire to his hand with a grimace of pain on his face. Apparently the door had some burning slime on it, and it required fire to remove it. It was most unsettling watching him calmly set fire to himself all the same! Once Kull had removed the slime, we discovered the jail cells contained nothing but a few skeletons of former prisoners. On examining them, they appeared very old and didn’t really help me with my research at all, which is a pity.

We returned to the room containing the webs. It appeared to be an old dining hall, and the silverware on the dining table appeared to be quite valuable. It was decided we would set fire to the webs to ensure that whatever might be living in it would be removed before we investigated the room. However, the webs wouldn’t light as they appeared to be covered in some flame retardant material! I found this quite fascinating, but Will didn’t seem to care either way and promptly jumped on the table sending the expensive silverware flying! I think the sight of his fellow villagers dead and bloated in the water was still affecting him, as I didn’t think it was really the behaviour of a completely sane fellow. Either way, the 4 huge spiders didn’t appear until Will started hacking at the webs.

The ensuing battle was brief and somewhat unsettling. One of the spiders bit me, and I felt its poison attempting to sap my somewhat limited strength, but I resisted the effects somehow. Kull was bitten as well and I could almost see the strength drain away from him. It didn’t seem to affect his ability to squish them with his flail though and the rest of my companions had the nasty things reduced to mush in no time.

We collected the silverware and had a rest in the watchtower while Kull recovered from the effects of the spider bite. We examined the map and it appeared to show the area surrounding Saltmarsh, with one important difference, there are no marshes evident at all! We’ve ascertained that the source of the marshes may have something to do with the Pirate Isles and Kull wants us to investigate.
______

We have returned to Saltmarsh and discovered there is a new shopkeeper! I wasn’t entirely pleased with this, as I thought I was here to replace the old shopkeeper. Some competition might be a good thing though; I guess we shall see. He definitely came in handy when we wanted to sell the treasure we found at the watchtower though, so it’s not a complete loss. My money pouch is quite a bit heavier now.

Kull wants to go to Mellon to hire a Captain of the Guard to take over Kulls town duties while we investigate the source of the swamp. Has asked me to accompany him. I guess I didn’t do too badly at the watchtower after all. Either that, or I’m the only wizard he’s got. It’s probably the latter.

I have some time before we leave to do some study, which is a welcome change. Kull would like me to enchant his armour as well. I thought it was the least I could do considering he saved my life back at the watchtower, and I’m only charging him ¾ of the normal price.


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## Lela

> Kull would like me to enchant his armour as well. I thought it was the least I could do considering he saved my life back at the watchtower, and I’m only charging him ¾ of the normal price.



 Gnorric the gracious.


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## Mantreus

Lela said:
			
		

> Gnorric the gracious.



 Isn't he though 

Caps away at a con, so I thought I would post twice to keep things flowing...


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## Capellan

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Caps away at a con, so I thought I would post twice to keep things flowing...




/me does the Dance of Convention Joy.

Back.  Had a great time.  

I should write an update in the next few days, giving the "true" account of events in this adventure.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 7th Report - Part 3*

My course determined, I called upon Hextor for aid.  He responded by sending a powerful gorilla, which I sent forward to attack the toads, before advancing into combat alongside it.

The creatures were huge - easily as big as a man - but such brutish beasts are no match for trained and disciplined warriors, and were soon dispatched.  I was thus able to lead the way further down the corridor.  The water here was cloudy and deep as my knees, and I moved slowly, sliding my feet so as to be forewarned of any sudden drop in the floor.

Due to this sensible precaution, I had not advanced very far before a strange ring of water suddenly arose out of the depths, and began rushing down the corridor toward us.  I was not sure if it would serve any purpose, but I swung my flail as the ring came within arm's reach.  There was a satisfying jolt of impact, and a spray of water that seemed to reduce to height of the ring as it swept over me, sending a jolt of cold through my bones.

The others struck at the thing with blades and magic as it swept over them, diminishing it still further, but the ring - which was, I must assume, some kind of water elemental - swept back again.  It fared no better on the second pass than the first, and was soon thereafter destroyed, or at the very least dispatched from this plane.

At the end of the corridor lay an ancient chest, rusted shut with age.  I forced open the lid, discovering within a strange crystal ball, large and cloudy.  We subsequently discovered evidence that this ball was somehow responsible for the subsidence of the fort into the marsh - and possibly for the very formation of the marsh, in the first place.  However, at the time, we knew only that it was not a scrying device (at least, Gnorric was not able to use it as such).

This chest lay at the end of the corridor, and so I backtracked to the original area through which I had entered the keep.  There were three areas I had not yet searched.  These were the main hall, much of which was deeply flooded, whatever lay beyond the iron door, and what looked like the dining room, filled with dense cobwebs of suspicious size.

Before we left, I ensured that all three of these areas had been searched, but it is only what I found in the first that bears recounting.  The iron door and the dining hall contained only the usual vermin of such ancient places, which were quickly destroyed: I will not waste your time with such trivialities.  The main chamber, however, proved a far different matter.

This large hall was filled to a depth of several feet with water, making movement slow and difficult.  However, I knew that it would need to be searched, as the newt-like creatures were likely to be as comfortable in the water as on land.  Thus, I led the way into the area, with my deputy moving out to one flank with his bow at the ready, and the druid's companion creature - a crocodile - at my side.  As I reached the middle of the room, I could make out a dense clump of reeds against the far wall, and a pair of doors; one in each of the walls to my left and right.  

It was at this point that we were attacked.

Though some eight or more feet in length, the druid's crocodile was dwarfed by the enormous beast that burst out of hiding in the reeds.  Some twenty feet or more in length, it had teeth that were larger than the dagger I bear at my belt, and must have weighed as much as twenty men or more.

I managed to deflect the beast's first lunge with a sharp blow to its snout, but on the second attempt it seized me in its jaws.  The powerful teeth bore down, goring at my body, but the beast was gored in turn: I have for some time employed a suit of spiked plate armour, and the spikes tore into the soft palate of the crocodile, causing its blood to flow and its grip to relax instinctively.

Seizing this opportunity, I fought my way free of the creature's mouth.  As I did so, I saw upon its neck a heavy collar of iron, attached by a stout chain to the wall.  Knowing thus that the creature could not move freely around the room, I instructed the others to withdraw, so that it could be slain without risk to ourselves.  This plan worked admirably, though the druid was too slow in withdrawing his pet, and it was torn in two by the larger beast.

Having destroyed the giant crocodile, I explored the reeds where it had made its lair.  There, I found five of the missing women, bound and gagged.  These survivors indicated that the other kidnapped women had been taken away by the newts: I found the remains of these unfortunates in one of the chambers that lay off the hall.  They had been slain and bled dry by the newts, in preparation for consumption at a feast.

A more important discovery than either group of women, however, was the map that hung from the wall beyond the crocodile's lair.


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> A more important discovery than either group of women, however, was the map that hung from the wall beyond the crocodile's lair.



Kulls sympathy is touching...


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## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Kulls sympathy is touching...



 Exactly what I was thinking.  Oi.

 Thanks Cap!


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## Morte

Capellan said:
			
		

> A more important discovery than either group of women, however, was the map that hung from the wall beyond the crocodile's lair.




I _like_ Kull. Level-headed, professional, a firm sense of priorities, good tactics. He'd make an excellent cleric of Heironeous. Shame about the Hextor business.


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## Capellan

*Kull's 7th Report - Part 4*

As might be expected, the map pre-dated the fall of the fortress.  This in itself was not what drew my interest, though it would doubtless make the item valuable to collectors.  What was important to my eyes was what the map depicted: in the time before the fall of the tower, the extent of the swamp was far less than it is today.  It covered - at most - one sixth of the area.

I do not share the druid's fascination with the minutiae of nature, but it was clear that this sudden and geometric increase in the size of the swamp could not be natural.  The means by which the swamp had been increased could not immediately be proven, but my suspicions - shared by Gnorric and the druid - were that the crystal orb we had found might have some relevance to the matter.  This suspicion was all but confirmed by the discovery of an aged note in a disused part of the complex, which read "Place the orb within the castle.  It will do the rest".  Just as the fort has subsided beneath the waters of the swamp, so has the land as a whole.

If the increase in the swamp was caused by magical means, then it is likely that it can be reversed in the same manner.  Compared to this knowledge, the rescue of the five village women is of small importance, welcome though it may be.

It is my intention to investigate the cause of the swamp's expansion, and ascertain how it was accomplished.  If it is possible to do so, I intend to learn the means to reverse the effects.  Were the swamp returned to its previous size, it would ease travel in the region and reclaim many lost acres of farmland, leading to a greater era of prosperity and security: prosperity and security that will be owed to the strength and vigilance of Hextor.

On my return to Saltmarsh, I spoke to several of the locals, and consulted the old council logs.  It appears that this coast was once plagued by pirates, operating out of a chain of islands near the coast.  The old fort was originally built to watch for these pirates and thwart their attacks.  It seems likely to me that these islands may well hold the key to the secret.  There can be no doubt that the pirates would have wanted the fort destroyed, though it appears that their actions to achieve this end had repercussions far beyond what they could have intended.  I plan to investigate these islands at the earliest opportunity. 

Before I begin my investigation, however, I have several other matters to which I must attend.

First, the lizardfolk must be warned against the folly of alliance with any future group of newts that may enter these territories.  Saltmarsh stood by them, when the sahuagin attacked.  I mean to see that they stand by Saltmarsh, should the need arise.  I delivered this warning to the lizard ambassador, giving him the head of the newt chieftain as I did so.  He seemed to understand this message, and has agreed to convey it to his own chieftain.

Second, as I will need to spend some considerable time away from Saltmarsh in order to investigate the islands, I will need to appoint someone to handle the role of sheriff.  There are none in town who can be trusted with this responsibility, so I intend to travel to the city of Mellin, where I can hire a warrior with the proper training to enforce the laws and command the militia.  In light of the unreliability of the lizardfolk, this step is doubly necessary.  

Third, while I am in Mellin I will be seeking news of the world beyond Saltmarsh.  The villagers tell me that while I was at the fort, many troops passed along the old swamp road, heading north.  The troops spoke of trouble with orcs and other humanoids, and rumours are circulating that the Border Keep has fallen.  If true, this means that the lands to the north are open to invasion by the orcish tribes.  It is important that I learn more of the situation in Mellin, so that I can judge the extent of the threat.  It may even be that I will have to travel north to determine the situation in person.

I will be leaving for Mellin in the morning.  I will report again after my return.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


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## Lela

Hmmm, big trouble in little Saltmarsh.


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## Durhon

Geez I didnt realise how up-to-date this story hour is.  I didn't realise that my character has also appeared!!  (BTW Im the druid)

Good to see Arwink isn't posting anymore.  It means he's got more time for Copperheads posting!!


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## Capellan

Here are the maps of the Saltmarsh area:

EDIT: as of October '04 these links won't work any more.  I'll try to find somewhere else to put them online when I get home again, around Xmas.

*As it used to be* 

and

*As it is now*

Hopefully, this should give you an idea of why Kull sees the map he found as significant.  They'll also be useful as reference when we bring you the next session's events - which we'll do as soon as Mantreus gets his act together


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 8th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Eighth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

To begin my report, I wish to extend my thanks for your dispatch of Dargrim Ironshield to assist with Our Lord's interests in this region.  I encountered this sturdy dwarf while en route to Mellin, and have been impressed with his skill and tenacity in battle - traits he has already had ample opportunity to demonstrate.

I have assigned Dargrim to act as a bodyguard for the wizard, Gnorric.  This will prevent the necromancer from wandering into physical danger, while also allowing me to keep a watch on his activities and ensure that he does not break the conditions of his acceptance into Saltmarsh.

Once we arrived in Mellin, I attended the mercenary's guild and advised them of my requirements for a capable replacement in the role of sheriff.  They were able to provide me with two possible candidates.  This was fewer than I had expected, but it seemed the fighting in the north had drained their resources.

On the subject of the fighting, you will by now have heard that almost half of this realm has been overrun by humanoid tribes.  Not only has the Border Keep fallen, but most of the towns of the north have been sacked or are currently besieged.  There are rumours that giants lead the enemy forces.  The main pass through the mountains has also been lost, increasing travel to the coastal road - a boon to the people of Saltmarsh, though not one they will enjoy for long, if the enemy is not driven back.

I cannot say that I am surprised by the calamities that have befallen this region, of late - if the ignorant and careless attitude displayed in Saltmarsh before my arrival is any guide, the folk here have made negligible preparations for their own defence.

At the time I conducted the interviews, however, I knew only of the fall of the Border Keep.  Thus, hearing of the numbers of trained soldiers who had been sent north, I determined that to travel that way myself, as soon as my replacement could be found, and investigate what had occurred.

Choosing this replacement proved a simple task - both candidates were warriors of acceptable skill, but only one had sufficient intelligence to be able to fulfil the role required.  I employed him on the spot, and - after spending the rest of the day purchasing supplies, and learning more of the fighting to the north - returned to Saltmarsh the next morning.  Once there, I introduced the new sheriff to the villagers, explained his role and responsibilities to him, and had him conduct several simple war games with the militia.  His performance was satisfactory in all matters, and he displayed some tactical aptitude in the war games.

Once these matters had been resolved, I prepared to head north and learn more of the fighting.  Heading into a war zone by myself would be foolishness, of course, so I set about assembling a small group to assist me.  Naturally Dargrim would be included, and I chose Will Shepherdson - deputy commander of the militia - as well.  Shepherdson is one of the few people in the village with military experience, having served as a scout in a recent war.  His skills could be useful to me.

I also gave Gnorric leave to join the mission.  No doubt his interest in the fighting lay with the corpses - he is a man of strange persuasions - but whatever I think of him personally, his knowledge of arcane magic makes him useful to me.  I would even have accepted the druid, for whom I care even less, but he had retreated into the swamp in search of a new 'animal companion' to replace his lost crocodile.

With my companions chosen, I set out northwards, along the coastal road.  The increased traffic along this route proved to have stirred up an owlbear, which came upon our camp on the second evening of the journey, but the beast was no match for three trained warriors, and will cause no further trouble for travellers on the road.

On the second morning after the owlbear attacked, we reached a small inn.  Knowing that such an establishment would have been frequented by the soldiers who had travelled north before us, I called a halt and went inside to speak with the barkeep, and learn what he had heard of the fighting.

At the time, he had little more to tell than we already knew: soldiers were streaming north to fight the humanoid tribes, and the pass was rumoured lost.  He seemed confident that the 'troubles' would soon be over - indeed, he had an air of complacency that was all too familiar from my early days in Saltmarsh.

While I spoke with him, however, a young man arrived at the inn, riding in an old coach, with a faded crest upon the doors.  Upon alighting from the coach, he hurried over and asked my name.  When I gave it, he produced a scroll, sealed with wax, and 'begged leave to deliver it to me, that I might be persuaded to save his village from a terrible curse'.

Vapid courtly nonsense though his words might be, I took the scroll and read it.


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

Well, we are on the road to Mellin and are resting for the night. We’ve found a nice spot near a brook with a clearing and some deadfall we can use for a fire. It’s amazing how these handy little places pop up on the side of the road. I sometimes wonder if the gods aren’t playing with our heads.

Kull seems a lot more cheerful of late. I actually think he’s excited by the prospect of war to the north. I think the mystery of the marsh holds greater interest for me. The crystal ball we found had some very faint magic about it, but I have a feeling that its magic has faded over hundreds or possibly thou…
______

Well that was a bit of excitement for the evening! We were just interrupted by a rather surly visitor. And I’ve wasted a perfectly good armouring spell on the encounter. I refuse to waste it, so I’m sitting here writing in my journal with a glowing field of force around me. I think the new dwarven fellow thinks me a bit strange.

The feeling is mutual; our initial encounter wasn’t that pleasant.

Will heard someone approaching and slipped into the woods to check it out. I cast my armouring spell and asked Wee Bat to fly above and let me know who it was. I informed Kull that it was a stout fellow in spiked plate much like his own. Will circled around and had an arrow trained on him. The dwarf announced himself though and introduced himself as Dargrim Ironshield (how typically dwarven of him.) He has been sent by the Hextorian church to “help” Kull, whatever that means. He’s a very rude and gruff fellow. When I introduced myself, he broke wind, grunted, spat, sat down and started munching on some sort of trail rations.

Strangely, Kull seemed quite pleased to have him. I thought I saw him smile, but it was probably just a trick of the light.
______

Arrived in Mellin and have found a place to stay. Thankfully it’s no where near my old neighbourhood, I don’t think they’d be too receptive to a homecoming quite yet, they were quite irate when I left.

I’m about to go for a walk to the Temple of Wee Jas to talk to the High Priestess there. I’m quite looking forward to it! Kull has already left with Dargrim to investigate hiring a sheriff to fill in while we go north.

Speaking of going north, we saw a lot of troops moving north on our way here. Something about “greenskins” attacking some fort or pass or something. So our investigations have apparently become more urgent, and we are heading north as soon we return to Saltmarsh and train whoever Kull decides to hire.

Will has gone on what he calls a “tithing run”. He feels that if he gives a little bit to each temple, he’s keeping all the gods happy and will have good luck. A nice theory I guess, but I think he’s spreading his faith a bit thin. Speaking of faith, I’m off to pay my respects to Wee Jas!
______

Well, the priestess of Wee Jas was a wonderful woman! She was in agreement with me on a number of things and supports me with my ideas for using undead as unpaid labour. We spoke for a couple of hours about death, magic and how they work together. Overall it was a fascinating time and I was sad to go. I must update my notes regarding commanding the undead, it has given me some ideas…

I also went to see the local merchant of arcane wares and have bought a couple of scrolls that I might add to my spell book. I bought a scroll of flying, which should be fun! I can swoop about the place with Wee Bat. He’s looking forward to seeing me fly as well.
______

The trip back from Mellin went uneventfully and we have arrived back in Saltmarsh. Kull hired an earnest young man called Elijah. He appears to be doing well in the military exercises that Kull is putting him and the militia though. The poor fellows, Kull is a horrendous task master and expects the world from these poor villagers. Will tries to take the edge off Kull in his role as deputy (Wee Jas knows why!) so it isn’t all bad. It’s a good thing I’m useless with a sword, I don’t think I could stand the training Kull is dishing out.

Aramil dropped in for supplies for a little while today. The poor dear is looking for another companion after the loss of his crocodile. It appears to be going none to well though and is taking him some time. Therefore he won’t be joining us on our little trip north to investigate the invasion, which is a pity. He’s a very useful fellow to have about. I informed Kull that he wouldn’t be joining us and he said “The Druid? Pah!” and that was that!

Anyway, enough avoiding work. I have new spells to scribe!
______

We’ve found another one of those fabulous little campsites on the side of the road. It’s obviously been used by a few people as there are obvious signs of a fire and so forth…

Will just found something interesting, it appears to be human teeth still attached to the gum? Fresh too. It’s fascinating how the gum envelopes the root of the tooth so well making it very difficult to remove them but still leaving room for growth. I wonder if I could improve the appearance of zombies for the mass market by providing them with some sort of denture or similar so they have a nice smile? I must make a note of that…
_____

Oh dear. We just found the provider of the human remains. It was an awful owlbear creature. He came bursting out of the forest and basically walked directly into Dargrim, Will and Kull who battered it into the ground in a matter of moments. Still, it’s interesting how these creatures have evolved. I got Will and Dargrim to help me drag it away from the road so I might perform an autopsy on the return trip.

Speaking of Dargrim, he seems to be hanging around especially closely of late. He has this habit of just sitting and staring at me as I write. Like he is now, which is most unnerving.

We followed its “tracks” (more like a swath of destruction through the forest!) back to its cave and found a foul smelling liquid, a fair amount of gold and some awful boots. The boots felt wrong somehow, but they are not magical. I have placed them into my magical bag of holding for later inspection.

Kull has been a bit more chatty this trip. I think it’s the prospect of some real military action or something. He has been discussing tactics with me. I am to stick close to Dargrim in any sort of fight and fire spells over his head appropriately. I don’t know why he seems to think me an idiot, but at least it’s conversation!
______

We have stopped to see if we can get anymore news about the conflict to the north at a roadhouse just outside a place called Torlynn. Nothing much new being reported. Rumours of giants is about it. Oh, a young man just arrived looking for Kull…


----------



## Lazybones

Just got caught up on the last month's posts.  I enjoy the new characters and their quirks, and the offsetting posts style continues to give an interesting outlook on the overall story.


----------



## Lela

Ooo, new Hextor guy.  This should be fun.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Anyone playing him, or is he strictly an NPC?  And generally, how do you handle cohorts?  Created by the players, run by the player, etc?


----------



## Capellan

Basically, cohorts are created and run by the player who took the leadership feat (with approval from the DM as to race, class etc, as well as actions once introduced, though there haven't been any problems on either front, thus far).  Ability scores are chosen, rather than rolled, and are deliberately weighted to make the cohort slightly weaker than a PC of the same level would be.

The DM ran Dargrim during our initial encounter with him, but thereafter, he's been under my control.  I built him to be a 'brick wall' fighter, capable of absorbing lots of damage (via high AC and HP) rather than dishing it out (Kull's our damage delivery system).  His mechanically-minded Dwarven nature makes him pretty good with traps, as well.

His stats will go up in the Rogue's Gallery in the next week or so - we have to convert all the characters to 3.5E, first


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 8th Report - Part 2*

The message proved to be a plea from the village of Torlynn, requesting my assistance in relieving their town of a 'terrible curse'.  It is my opinion that the most terrible curse on this land is the weak and undisciplined manner in which most people conduct themselves, but it was too much to hope that it was to this that the letter referred.

When questioned, the boy explained that the curse was one of eternal winter, which had gripped the town for over two years.  He implored me to come to his village and speak to the burgomaster there.

Normally, the woes of a small village would matter little when compared to the threat of war across the whole realm, but this Torlynn lay close to the route of march of the armies heading north.  If the curse went unchecked, it could cut the road for reinforcements and supply.  I thus resolved to at least meet with this burgomaster, and hear his story.

Torlynn proved to be a small village, with streets of semi-frozen mud and many boarded up houses.  There was almost no-one in sight - no doubt due to the snow that was falling as we arrived.  Whatever the truth of rest of the tale we had come to hear, the curse was obviously real enough.

The burgomaster wore a silver monocle at his eye and was dressed in a tailored red vest, the buttons of which were strained over his waist.  Obviously he was still well-fed, despite the climate and the apparent poverty of the village.  It was not hard to see why the curse had gone on for so long, with such an individual in charge.

He explained that the source of the curse was believed to be the nearby ruin of a wizard's keep.  The place had long been abandoned, but two years earlier, signs of habitation had been seen there.  Some local trappers went to investigate, but were driven off by strange rat-men, the likes of which they had never seen.  The villagers promptly hired adventurers to investigate - a policy they obviously intended to repeat, or we would not be having the conversation.  The adventurers never returned, and the winter set in thereafter.

Gauging him to be a weak and ineffectual man, I warned him that only the strength and discipline of Hextor could save his village.  If Torlynn wished the aid of Our Lord's followers, they would have to accept His worship, as well.  In exchange for my aid, I required:

* that Hextor's church be officially established in the village, with a base of operations there
* that the village inn - currently closed - be leased to me at a reduced rate.  It is my intention to re-establish this business for the use of the troops engaged in fighting to the north
* that I be given possession of the ruins of the wizard's keep, and , once the problem was resolved.  I intend to reclaim this structure as I have done with the manor near Saltmarsh, and build another stronghold of Our Lord
* that a treaty be signed between Saltmarsh and Torlynn, agreeing to a mutual policy of trade and protection.  The burgomaster tried to avoid this requirement, claiming that it would displease the Duke of Mellin.  I pointed out that a treaty of friendship between two of the Duke's own possessions could only strengthen his rule, not harm it.  When this did not overcome the man's timidity, I reminded him that the Duke had not aided his town in the past two years, and that he could accept my terms, or go back to waiting.  It is a sign of the realm's lack of discipline that threats achieve more than sound reasoning.

The next morning, I led the expedition to the keep.  The building itself appeared largely intact from the exterior.  There were several large cracks in the walls, but these were not wide enough to allow entry.  This left only one way into the keep: a door set in the middle of the southern wall.

A well-organised defence could have held that position easily, using it as a choke-point against attackers, but it the only creatures to challenge my entry were a handful of oversized rats, quickly slain.  Filth and rubble littered many parts of the hall, making it clear that whatever creatures might lurk in this place, they had little strength or discipline.  No watch had been set, no guards had been posted, and the most vulnerable point in the keep had been left to rot and decay as a nest for vermin.

Moving deeper into the keep, it became clear to me that a wide variety of creatures made it their lair, each carving out their own little niche of territory.  In quick succession we encountered and destroyed an animated suit of armour, some sort of cube-shaped ooze monster, and some kind of undead spirit, which did not prove hostile.  We also encountered a number of cold-acclimatised spiders.  These arachnids had a frozen web that produced an eerie tune, which was evidently intended to make prey more docile.  It did not avail them anything in the battle, and they were swiftly butchered.

By this time, I had mapped nearly a third of the keep's area, and there had not been any sign of the 'rat-men' the trappers had seen, nor of anything that might be the cause of the eternal winter afflicting Torlynn.

Then we found the key in the library.


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

The young man was called Eric. He was sent by the Burgomaster of Torlyn to find the “Saviours of Saltmarsh” to help with a “dark curse”. His village was under the curse of a permanent winter and it had been that way for the past two years apparently. I was quite interested in what sort of magic could do such a thing. He was rather melodramatic. Maybe he’s a budding bard or something?

Anyway, he gave us a lift to the village in a fairly run down carriage once he convinced us to investigate further. The carriage may have been run down, but it was pleasant to be travelling in some comfort non-the-less.

On arriving in town, it was obvious that young Eric wasn’t overstating things. There was a dirty snow drifting from the sky as we pulled up to a large house in the centre of town. We met the Burgomaster, who was a short portly man called Gustaven who seemed to have the same melodramatic streak as young Eric. He told us of an old wizards house that he believes is the source of the curse. He had sent some villagers to go and investigate, and they reported back with tales of ratmen. Then about a year ago he hired some adventurous types to free them of the curse, but they haven’t returned. 

After his heartfelt and spectacular story I don’t think he was expecting the response he got from Kull. He was after kind hearted heroic types, and the poor fellow got Kull. I sort of switched off during the negotiations, but it appears that we might be getting the old wizards house as well as an interest in the local Inn. Kull prattled on about Hextor a bit and some trade with Saltmarsh or something.

Once an agreement was reached, we headed off to the old house. And old it was, it looked very run down. We entered through the front door which appeared to be the only real entrance, and were quickly attacked by some rather large rats. Will got bitten by a rat, but all the sword swinging types made quick work of them. We found some coins and a couple of old daggers amongst the garbage the rats called home.

Wills new sword was very impressive. It flickers with a magical flame that looks pretty nifty when he swings it about. I have no idea where he got it from but I believe I could work out how to do it myself with a bit of practice, and time. Never enough time in the day is there?

The next room we encountered was fascinating! Its fascination wasn’t readily apparent, but it proved most beneficial. It was a bare room with a human skull sitting on a small table in the centre of the room. The skull had a small candle in it. We searched all about the room trying to find something untoward, but nothing was apparent. Kull was the one to bite the bullet and lit the candle in the skull. Wills sword, which we had been using as a makeshift torch up to this point winked out and everything was darkness….

I awoke in a large chamber and could hear a faint voice. I concentrated on the sound and it became clearer although it didn’t appear to have an owner. This voice then spent well over three hours imparting knowledge of the arcane that I had never even considered! Things that I had been ruminating on for years suddenly became clear and the obscure became obvious. I was a wonderful time the like I doubt I will ever be able to experience again, and I was devastated to feel the voice slipping away from me, never to be heard again.

I awoke to Kull and Will standing over me with quizzical looks on their faces. Apparently I was only unconscious for a matter of moments, even though it felt like hours to me. I tried explaining what had happened to Kull; tears of joy on my face from my new found knowledge and power. He seemed almost concerned, but then quickly dismissed it as “wizardly nonsense”. Will looked at me strangely, like he hadn’t quite noticed me before. Dargim was his old surly self of course, mumbling about the little wizard being scared of the dark. I went to investigate the skull to see if I could go back to the voice, but as I drew near, it blew away to dust.

The next room we encountered contained a table with a book, and a suit of armour on a stand near the wall. I was excited by the prospect of the book, but Will got to it first.

Then the armour hit Will on the back of the head.


----------



## Lela

Sorry it's been so long between posts.  SO MUCH HOMEWORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But I've got a break now (for a few days at least).  A fun little sidequest to talk about here.

Kull seems to have taken on the mantle of the entire war to the north.  He also seems to be setting the area up for a Hextorian takeover, something, I admit, I've been pushing him for. 

Gnorric, on the other hand, is continuing to be just as much the interesting character as Kull.  I do want to ask though, Mantreus, were you tired when you wrote this?  It seemed a little below your usual standard.  Not that it wasn't good.  Just that you're usually better.  I can be more specific if you want, just ask.


----------



## Mantreus

Lela said:
			
		

> I do want to ask though, Mantreus, were you tired when you wrote this?  It seemed a little below your usual standard.  Not that it wasn't good.  Just that you're usually better.  I can be more specific if you want, just ask.



As a matter of fact I _was_ pretty tired. I had a hard time getting into "Gnorric Mode" I guess... thinking about work too much. 

When I write this story hour, I actually sit there for a bit and put most of the real world out of my head, put all of Gnorric into my head, and then just start typing with an occassional reference to the game notes. Hence Gnorric going off on little tangents for no apparent reason. 

Thanks for the input Lela, it's good to know when you're being a bit slack and that people who read it actually notice.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

I think this story hour is one of the most interesting to read, because the characters, even at low levels, have such strong goals and ambitions. Kull Redfists assimilation of the region is going to become legend.


----------



## Lela

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Thanks for the input Lela, it's good to know when you're being a bit slack and that people who read it actually notice.



I usually don't say anything but I figured you'd be fine with it.  We notice.  We just tend to ignore it and expect it to pick back up later.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 8th Report - Part 3*

The key was of blue crystal, and had been concealed within a strongbox, disguised as a book.  The box was locked, but Dargrim has some mechanical aptitude, and was able to work the tumblers open.  Given the fragile appearance of the key, I ordered the box re-sealed, so that the crystal would be protected against damage.

Further exploration revealed a room, fashioned like a tomb, containing four stone coffins.  This lay not ten feet from the ancient dining hall.  Any general who placed the morgue next to the mess hall would likely be lynched by his men: what kind of fool builds his own home in such fashion?

As seems inevitable when wizards and corpses combine, the room contained several undead, which were destroyed after a short battle.  Gnorric's absurd enthusiasm for the study of such creatures actually proved of use in this encounter, though he is finally beginning to recognise the need for more effective battle magics.  No doubt the fate of the halfling wizard Zalich, which I have described in some detail, has had an positive effect on his thinking.

Although the undead had arisen from the coffins themselves to battle us, the lid of each proved trapped.  I must assume that, lurking within their sarcophagi, the creatures had had plenty of time to study the workings of the traps, allowing them to enter and leave without triggering the effects.  In the event, Dargrim was able to disable some of the mechanisms, and we survived the dangers of the others with relatively little harm.

Shortly after defeating the undead, we encountered two of the 'ratmen' of whom the Burgomaster had spoken.  A pair of the creatures were working in the keep's kitchen, apparently so absorbed in their activities that they had not noticed our movements in the nearby rooms.  Perhaps they mistook us for others of their group.  Whatever the case, they did not live long to regret their lack of alertness.

The next several rooms we explored contained nothing more dangerous than a few rats, but in time we reached a chamber where bones littered most of the floor.  On the far side of the room stood a rotted bed and chair, beneath which we found a locked box.  The key from the library proved to fit the lock.  Within the box were some items with minor enchantments upon them, the most notable of which was a wand of curative spells.

By now, almost the entire keep had been explored, with no sign of what might be causing the continuous winter in Torlynn, nor much evidence of the ratmen: the single pair we had met so far could hardly have driven off the trappers from the town, let alone a party of adventurers.  However, I did not even have to enter the final chamber of the keep to know that this was the source of the 'curse': the temperature dropped sharply as we drew close to the room, and the door that blocked entry was rimed with a heavy frost.

Beyond the door lay an alchemist's laboratory.  Every inch of the floor and walls, as well as the furniture, was covered in a layer of ice.  At the centre of the room was a large frozen block, in which was suspended a slender sword of silvered metal, while in the far corner stood an entire throne made of ice, on which sat a black-furred ratman, larger and more heavily scarred than the two we had earlier slain.  Several more of the creatures - closer in size to those we had encountered before - were spread around the room.

I called on Hextor to guide my blows, and the battle was joined.


----------



## Lela

A blue crystal key?  Wow, a whole campaign could be run on something like that.


----------



## Capellan

So is anyone else wondering when Mantreus is going to get around to updating?   Maybe he thinks five kids and a promotion are an excuse not to post.  Bah, I say.  Bah. 

Kull's update is written, but I'm giving Gnorric a few more days to catch up.  I'll update on Friday, whatever happens.


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> So is anyone else wondering when Mantreus is going to get around to updating?   Maybe he thinks five kids and a promotion are an excuse not to post.  Bah, I say.  Bah.



That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!   

Update below... so nyer!


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

I reacted first and let loose with a full compliment of my magical bolts, it seemed to hurt the Armour quite a bit, but it was still swinging wildly at Will. Will tumbled out of the way of the armour and began to drink a healing potion he must have had. Both Kull and Dargrim interposed themselves between the Armour and Will and started swinging at it vigorously. Whatever else you might say about these two, they are very good at hitting things, and hit the Armour they did, soon reducing it to scrap metal.

Once the Armour was disposed of, I rushed over to the book. It turned out to be a collection of scrolls bound together. A veritable plethora of spells! There won’t be enough hours on the day to research all of these! There were also some potions and money of some description in a trapdoor under the tattered carpet. Will got hit by a poison needle but resisted the effects.

The next room we encountered was the library. My heart leapt again, but there was nothing of an arcane nature in any of the tomes. Dargrim did find a book shaped strong box, the lock of which he picked. Inside was a fascinating key of blue crystal. It was quite beautiful to behold, and looked extremely fragile. We put it back in the “book safe” and I put the lot into my bag of holding for safe keeping.

The dining hall we encountered next didn’t contain much of interest apart from a few icicles that Will melted with his flaming sword. Will also found a finely crafted bell that looked like it might be magical. I must remember to identify what it does…

We moved on to the base of what used to be a tower. Most of the wooden stairs were rotted away. That wasn’t what was interesting about the room though. The entire tower was filled with icy strands that whistled a lulling music, obviously an effective trap for the two man-sized spiders that leapt out at us. I was so lulled by the music that my attempt to cast a spectral hand completely failed. At that point I decided to step back and let Will with his impressive flaming sword make short work of them. And that’s exactly what he did, he’s quite the dexterous fellow is young Will. Kull and Dargrim must have helped of course, but they weren’t anywhere near as noticeable as Will leaping about the place. On searching the debris at the bottom of the tower, we discovered a fair amount of gold coins and the remains of past visitors. I took some of the bones and rotting things for my research. It’s amazing how long it takes a body to completely rot away to dust. A sure indication that the dead are a wasted resource! It’s almost like Wee Jas made it that way to ensure people (and all life forms for that matter) can live on and complete their usefulness as undead. 

On our way past the kitchen, we discovered a tomb with four sarcophagi. Kull muttered something about the placement of a burial chamber so close to the “mess” being a stupid idea. I personally thought it was an excellent idea. When I’m poking around at the dead, and I get hungry, it’s only a few short steps to make myself a sandwich! I don’t have to drop everything and go halfway across the house (or across town usually!) and forget which particular piece of anatomy I was examining.

Anyway, a ghast and 3 ghouls lifted themselves out of the coffins as we got closer. I hate these things, they give undead a bad name and make my work all the more difficult. Kull immeadiately raised the Fist of Hextor and turned away the three ghouls, leaving them cowering in the corner. The ghast didn’t seemed impressed however. It smelt awful, as ghasts are wont to do, but I was able to shake the nauseating effects (and people tell me I spend too much time around smelly rotting things… pah!) I cast a spectral hand so that I might scare the disgusting thing away with my chilling touch spell. The ghast bit Will and he fell to the ground paralysed. My spectral hand then touched the thing with a chilling touch, but it appeared to shake the effects. Kull stepped over Wills frozen form and joined the battle, he seemed to give the creature some telling blows, but then the ghast leapt in with a quick bite and Kull fell motionless to the ground, a look of rage and surprise on his face.

Then the creature gave a horrible snarl and swung to face Dargrim and myself…


----------



## Lela

> It’s amazing how long it takes a body to completely rot away to dust. A sure indication that the dead are a wasted resource!



Okay, why has _that _never occured to me before?


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Mantreus said:
			
		

> On our way past the kitchen, we discovered a tomb with four sarcophagi. Kull muttered something about the placement of a burial chamber so close to the “mess” being a stupid idea. I personally thought it was an excellent idea. When I’m poking around at the dead, and I get hungry, it’s only a few short steps to make myself a sandwich! I don’t have to drop everything and go halfway across the house (or across town usually!) and forget which particular piece of anatomy I was examining.




Of course, one of these days he's going to get a _Ring of Disease Immunity_ and put his old experiments to one last, practical purpose.  Heck, you don't even need to leave the lab!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 8th Report - Part 4*

The ratmen outnumbered my forces, and were blessed with natural speed and agility, but if there is one thing that my experiences in the last year have taught me, it is that training and discipline are the key to success.  The ratmen lacked either, swarming in like street toughs, heavy-bladed knives in their hands.  A foul black and green sheen marked the blades of their 'king': poison of some kind.

The fight started poorly: Shepherdson recklessly left our lines in an attempt to flank the enemy leader, and found the tables turned on him within seconds.  Moments later, he was dead on the ground.  Fortunately, Dragrim has a proper sense of military discipline, and together he and I met the enemy like a wall of steel, driving back the ratmen.

I invoked our Lord's name, casting it as a challenge against the ratman chief, and he quailed back, his hands shaking with fear as he fumbled his blows, his knives bouncing harmlessly from Dargrim's shield.  That worthy servant of our church no more missed his opportunity than would I, and struck back with his axe, spraying blood across the room as the chieftain fell.

The remainder of his pack lasted little longer than the chief: speed and agility might serve in a gutter brawl, but against trained warriors they avail you little.  Rat bodies tumbled to the ground beneath my flail and Dargrim's axe.  Even the wizard contributed as best he could, putting one of the beasts into a magical slumber.  He even worked up the 'courage' to approach the sleeping creature and attempt to cut its throat: the first and only time I have seen him attempt an act of physical combat.  Given the abject failure of his attempt - the ratman woke with barely a nick in its fur - it is not hard to see why.  If he is to be of more use to me, I shall have to ensure that he increases his store of magical knowledge.  It is quite evident that h will never be of any use when his magic runs out, which it currently does far too readily.

I believe it is Hextor's Will that this flawed weapon should be placed in my hands, so that I can temper him into sturdy steel, or break him in the attempt.

With the enemy defeated, I began the search for the source of the curse.  It was obvious to me that the frozen sword or the ice throne must play some part in the matter, but I did not yet have all the final pieces to determine how.  I found them in an antechamber to the laboratory.

Four elves were manacled to the walls, covered in frost and apparently dead.  However, when I warmed one of the bodies to ease the search for information, the elf's eyes opened, and he offered his thanks for being rescued.

Once I had made it clear to him that any 'rescue' was dependant on a satisfactory explanation of who he was and what his purpose there had been, the elf explained that he and his companions were the adventurers dispatched by the town of Torlynn, to slay the ratmen.  I informed him that his failure had led to two years of constant winter, but that the rats were now dead.

The elf indicated his concern that such a curse might be powered by his own sword, a weapon of magical frost.  I made mention of the sword in the laboratory, and he claimed the blade as his own: then proved his claim by summoning it to him with a magical command.  I considered taking it from him by force - it would not be prudent to leave such a powerful item in the hands of one so weak as to be overcome by these rat creatures - but the moment the sword left it, the ice block began to change, reshaping itself into a foul ice demon of some kind, before lunging forward to do battle.

If the creature was a true demon, it is now returned to its home plane.  If not, it is dead.  Whichever the case, it will never again so rashly challenge the might of Hextor.

Of far more import than either the elves or the ice creature - though slaying the latter seemed to end the curse, as the ice around the room immediately began to melt - was the discovery in the laboratory of a second of the strange orbs, identical to the one in the lair of the newts.  This is further evidence that the spread of the marsh was the result of deliberate action, and may be reversible.

Returning to Torlynn with the elves, who I had at length decided to leave in possession of the sword, I received the thanks of the burgomaster, and learnt of the progress of the war.  The fighting had gone badly, and most of the north was fallen, with the defences forced back to the mountains and the edge of the swamp.  These at least are natural strong-points, and should hold for some time, but the weakness of the realm is a sign of the weakness of its people, and its rule.  I can see that there will be much need of Hextor's strength in the coming months.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


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## Thomas Hobbes

Capellan said:
			
		

> The fight started poorly: Shepherdson recklessly left our lines in an attempt to flank the enemy leader, and found the tables turned on him within seconds.  Moments later, he was dead on the ground.




Gah.  That's another one you've lost, Arwink.


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## Lela

Now I'm getting realed in by Kull again.  I want to know more of this war and it just isn't of use or importance to Gnorric.  C'mon Cap, daily update, daily update!


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## Capellan

*Kull's 9th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Ninth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

I was disappointed to learn that there is currently no acolyte to spare for the position in Torlynn.  It is my belief that the Church would gain much from having a representative there, at the front, with the soldiers of this realm.  They could gain much from Hextor's strength, and the Church would stand to earn many converts.  I am sure you will fill the position as soon as you are able, for the glory of Hextor.

The war continues.  All of the north has now fallen.  There was, until recently, a single village still unconquered, but this has now been evacuated, and abandoned to the humanoids.  I speak of this with firsthand knowledge, for I was there to lead the evacuation.

Upon my return from Torlynn, I found that Saltmarsh had become home to a number of new refugees from the war.  Amongst these was a dwarf who follows the travel God, Fharlanghn.  This dwarf, one Ulfgar, was unusual in that he had come to Saltmarsh with the intent of heading toward the front, rather than away.  His quarrel with the humanoids is evidently due to their invasion sealing the roads, or some similar nonsense.  So few people here seem to see this struggle for what it really is: a trial of strength.  Either we are stronger, and prevail, or the humanoids are, and we fall.  There is no greater or lesser truth to the war than this.

Whatever his motivations, the dwarf is a capable fighter, and I gave him permission to join my force.  There have been occasions when I have had to quash some foolish notion of his, but this has something to which I have grown accustomed to doing, with the wizard.

A few days after my return, a large sailing vessel moored off shore of the village.  The ship flew the sun banner of the Church of Pelor, and I thus expected that it had come for the local Priest of that faith.  However, the message brought ashore asked for my presence.  It is not often that the Pelorites seek out the company of those of our faith, and I might have accepted the invitation out of mere curiosity.  However, the message specifically stated that they wished to discuss the progress of the war, and I thus had far better motivation to hear what they had to say.

In the end, the matter proved intriguing: though all the lands of the north had been overrun by the humanoids, one village appeared to have avoided capture.  The Pelorites could not understand this, for the village - named Newtemple - had neither a strong militia, nor prepared defences.  They had consulted their god for answers, but had received only obscure answers, and an impression that something was amiss.

It quickly emerged that the Pelorites were telling me this because they lacked either the strength or the will - or both - to investigate the matter for themselves.  They hoped that I would handle the matter for them, in exchange for funds to assist in the preparation of Saltmarsh's defences.  I agreed to their request, though not without first ensuring that the payment was more substantial than they had originally intended.  Their weakness has led to this situation: now they must pay for that weakness.

With the details agreed, I advised Dargrim, Gnorric and Ulfgar of the expedition.  The wizard made some complaint about needing more time to study, but I overrode his protests.  There will be time enough for him to study once the war is won.

The next morning, the Pelorites landed in the village, while I boarded the vessel for the voyage north.  It seems they lack the courage even to come within sight of the war, let alone fight it.

The voyage was uneventful, showing the timidity of the Pelorites for the cowardice it is, and three days later the crew of the vessel rowed me ashore to the pier at Newtemple.  It was evident immediately that there was something unusual going on.  Despite the fact that the was had already swept well past this point, the village was as quiet and sleepy - as _oblivious_, in fact - as Saltmarsh had been, before my arrival.

I was met by one of the local Priests of Pelor, a man who introduced himself as Killian, who advised that the head of their Order would see me in the morning.  In the mean time, one of the locals answered my questions about the village's remarkable escape from destruction.  By his account, the county has been mystically protected since the 'Edict of 1312', when all weapons were banned.  Since that time, any evil creatures who enter the county will immediately become sickened and die.

At my request, the villager explained the boundaries of the county, noting where humanoid forces were camped just outside the borders.  It was quite evident from the numbers and sizes of the camps that the enemy forces were easily enough to swamp the town.  Of course, without weapons for the defence, it would not have needed much to sack.

The local seemed quite proud of the village's lack of preparedness.  His belief was that by relinquishing their every aspect of their safety to the protection of Pelor, the locals have made themselves completely secure.

Complete nonsense, all of it.


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## Lela

> Complete nonsense, all of it.



The interesting thing is that he's probably right.  Pelor, afterall, isn't a Peace deity and, in addition, says there's something wrong going on in that town.


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## Mantreus

I must apologise for the lack of updates, but work has been a bit brutal of late. Once things have settled down, there'll be an update-a-rama from me so I can catch up to Cap.


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## Capellan

*Kull's 9th Report - Part 2*

As the information provided by the locals was clearly of little use, I conducted a reconnaissance of the boundary of the county.  There were obvious signs of incursions by the humanoids, but - despite the complete lack of defences - these were clearly only raids, with no effort made to occupy the territory.

Given the ease with which the village should have been overrun, the lack of concerted attacks could only mean that either there was something holding the enemy back, or that the humanoids at least believed that there was. 

Returning to the Church of Pelor for the night, I instructed the others that we would maintain a guard throughout the night, as I did not choose to put my trust in the villagers claims of divine defence.  This decision proved wise, though not for the reason I originally intended: at around midnight, faint echoes of deep and sombre chanting could be heard, seeming originating from somewhere within the church.

No Pelorite worships at the dead of night, nor do their hymns have such dark and heavy tones.  Whatever force might lie over this village, it was not what it claimed to be.  If any doubt of this remained, after these midnight disturbances, it was dispelled by the ridiculous story with which I was presented, the next morning.

The abbot, Aldiss, showed me a tiny chamber in the heart of the temple, where an acolyte knelt, spinning a golden top, like a child's toy.  According to Aldiss, this was the 'Hand of Pelor', an ancient artefact that would destroy any evil that approached it.  Aldiss hurriedly added that, despite the hostility Pelor bears toward our Lord Hextor, the artefact would not affect me, as I bore them no ill will.  Which suggested that he was even less adept at spotting lies than at telling them.

I thanked him for his time, accepted his offer of a report for his superiors, and informed the others that we would leave the next day.  I had to override a protest from Gnorric at this point, and he continued to try and dissuade me from leaving, even after I took my leave of the abbot.  It seems he believed I actually meant to leave.

Once I made him understand that I did not truly mean to leave, the wizard finally quieted, and - making sure that there were no Pelorites nearby to overhear - I made the others aware of my intention that we explore the Church that night, to locate the source of the chanting we had heard the night before, and learn what was truly occurring in this town.

Two hours after dark, I gave the word to leave our rooms and begin the search.  This immediately ran into an obstruction that was in itself a sure sign that something was being concealed: many of the doors of the church had brand new locks, of formidable complexity.  Dargrim inspected them, but was not able to overcome the mechanisms.

Leaving these doors aside at first, I led an exploration of all the more easily accessible portions of the Church.  I did not expect to find anything of note - it would be sheer foolishness to protect some areas so well, only to leave incriminating evidence elsewhere, but I have found that people are more often foolish than might be expected, and being thorough often leads to unexpected rewards.

In this case, it availed me relatively little, though I was able to locate the chambers of several acolytes, and bar the door into this area, preventing them from emerging behind us.  I doubted they would be a threat, even if they had chosen to fight us, but every chance to reduce the foe should be taken: one of the many wise teachings of our Lord.

With this done, I was faced with the three doors that Dargrim could not open.  One guarded the so-called "artefact", one the main tower of the church, and one a small door tucked under some stairs.

I chose to check the tower, first, as any enemies there would have nowhere to retreat.  The time for subtlety was past, so I called upon Hextor to silence the area around the door, and then kicked it off its hinges.


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## Lela

> the artefact would not affect me, as I bore them no ill will. Which suggested that he was even less adept at spotting lies than at telling them.



_LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_


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## Morte

Capellan said:
			
		

> The time for subtlety was past, so I called upon Hextor to silence the area around the door, and then kicked it off its hinges.




I think this is subtler than at least 75% of the players I've DMd.


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## Thomas Hobbes

Lots of good parts in this last one.  Lola and Morte caught two.  I also liked the bit about how it wouldn't affect Kull- the moment I read the part about evil creatures sickening and dying, I wondered what would happen to our favorite Hextorite....


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## Morte

Thomas Hobbes said:
			
		

> Lots of good parts in this last one.  Lola and Morte caught two.  I also liked the bit about how it wouldn't affect Kull- the moment I read the part about evil creatures sickening and dying, I wondered what would happen to our favorite Hextorite....




As I recall, Kull is lawful neutral. He thinks order and discipline are important, and Hextor is just the sort of deity to get the job done.


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## arwink

The rough party alignment breakdown, off the top of my head:

Kull - Lawful Neutral
Ulfgar - Neutral ambivalent, as long as the roads are open
Gnorric: Either True Neutral or Lawful Neutral, I don't really remember.  Probably the latter.
The Druid - Neutral Absent


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## Capellan

Kull is indeed Lawful Neutral, but D&D's definition of evil is not always as clear-cut as it likes to think it is   For instance, to anyone using a _detect evil_, he not only registers, but strongly so (cleric of an evil deity, 5-10 levels).  This is one of the reasons that the DM gets dropping remarks about Paladins coming to visit. 

Gnorric is definitely LN, as every good follower of Wee Jas should be.

There will be an actual update this week sometime.  Hopefully several, since Mantreus just spent a week on holiday where it did nothing but rain, and must therefore have had plenty of time to write


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## Capellan

*Kull's 9th Report - Part 3*

As it would emerge, these precautions were not required.  The tower was empty of any intelligent opposition, though one room did contain a dozen animated hands.  These swarmed to attack, but were weak and easily dispatched.

Though there were no priests in the tower, there was plenty of evidence to prove that something was amiss in the village.  One room contained a scroll of _death knell_, an effective and useful spell, but not one that would be employed by a Priest of Pelor.  The content and materials of many of the other writings that I found made it clear these so-called Pelorites did not even worship a true deity, but were instead supplicants to mere demons.

Returning from the tower to the ground floor, I resolved to next investigate the door under the stairs.  However, as I led the way across the main hall of the chapel, the huge window bowed inwards and then shattered, a golem of stained glass stepping forth from the broken remains.

The druid, the wizard, and the dwarf Ulfgar all responded in the same way: they hurled spells at the creature.  Not a single one had an effect.  Fools, all of them.  If you wish a window broken, what do you do?  You strike it, with every ounce of your strength.

The creature shattered beneath my blows, even as Gnorric began another spell.  He did not even complete this incantation, for five glowing missiles sprang from the doorway to strike him, cast forth by one of the so-called priests.  The foe then turned and ran, as the remains of his magical guardian were ground beneath my boots.

Given the location of this encounter, there was nowhere for the priest to run but the door to which I had already been going.  This opened onto a flight of stairs, leading down into catacombs beneath the church.  

At first, these caverns seemed as deserted as the tower above.  Some of the passages were unstable, while others were dead ends.  We did have an encounter with some kind of animated web, but Dargrim and I had no trouble destroying it. 

Eventually, however, the tunnels began to lead deeper, the walls and the air growing ever more moist as they did so.  We came at last to a narrow fissure, just wide enough to squeeze through, one at a time.  I went through first, leaving Dargrim at the mouth of the gap, where he could come through to assist me, and also keep the others from doing anything foolish.

It was as well I did: as soon as I reached the far end of the crevice, three ogre zombies lurched out the darkness, swinging their heavy fists.  I called on Hextor's aid to send one of them quailing back in fear, but the blows of the others threw me back against the wall, and cracked the breastplate of my armour.

I have heard that some warriors hold their honour more dearly than their life.  This is foolishness: there is no honour but victory.  I retreated immediately, yelling for Dargrim to bar the way from the others.  As well I did: hearing the moans of the zombies, the druid had been ready to charge through.  I do not pretend that I would mourn him, but had he come, he would have died without purpose, and a good leader does not waste his troops.

Upon my return, I insisted that we prepare before we tried to enter the room again.  The others would have charged in one at a time, and been slain in the same way.  The fissure was a natural choke-point: a perfect defensive position, such as Myloth had at the Battle of Ferren Bridge.  But I also knew that Myloth lost at Ferren, when General Queeg stampeded his horses in front of his army, giving his men the cover they needed to achieve a foothold on the far bank.

I decided to adopt this same strategy now, summoning forth a giant insect as a sacrificial pawn.  The druid also summoned some kind of rock sprite, as further cover, and we sent those creatures through first, with Dargrim and I on their very heels.

The plan worked with great success: the druid's creature was destroyed almost instantly, but the zombies had no chance to strike either myself or Dargrim as we emerged.  Both hammering one of the beasts, we drove it back, opening a space for the others to join us.  From there, it became a battle of five against three, and the result was as sure as would have been a battle of three against one.  In less than a minute, all three zombies were destroyed.


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## Lela

Popping out with military stratigims (and even battles), is one of the biggest reasons I come back to this SH again and again.



> a golem of stained glass stepping forth from the broken remains.



 Well, that's interesting.  Did that come with the module or did they use stats from some other golem?


 Sorry it took so long to read this.  Finals week has been a tad bit stressful [wonders why there isn't a hangmen's noose in the emoticons].


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## Mathew_Freeman

And I'm back!

Nice to hear several goodly updates...glad to see Kull remains alive. We shall bring order to this area!


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## Mathew_Freeman

whoops...double post.


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## Capellan

*Kull's 9th Report - Part 4*

Leading the others on, I entered a room where a number of slaves cowered against a wall, manacled together in a long line.  Only one of the group stood tall, a wiry human with dusky skin and a taciturn nature.  He gave his name as Jav, and professed to be a follower of the teachings of Wee Jas.  On hearing this, Gnorric was all for releasing him on the spot, but I had no wish to encumber myself with a liability, and demanded first to know what use he could be to us.  After all, finding him as a prisoner of the enemy was hardly an encouraging sign.

By way of answer, he slipped easily out of the manacles, tossing them on the ground before him.  He then explained that he had not already escaped only because there had been no way past the three zombie ogres without fighting them: a task he could not manage alone.  As I myself could not have stood against all three without aid, I could not fault his reasons.  Accordingly, I allowed him to join us, while sending the other captives back out of the catacombs via the route we had taken.

It would be remiss of me not to mention that the speed and grace with which this 'Jav' moves - and a flash of henna on his wrists - makes me suspect that he is more than he appears.  I believe he may even be an aspirant to the order of the Grey Messengers.  While I have little love for the cults of the death goddess, they are times when the skills of such people are necessary, and if my supposition is correct, he may come in time to put those skills to Our Lord's use.

Before allowing them to depart, I bade the prisoners tell me what they could of the remainder of the catacombs, and how they had been brought here.  It emerged that they were mostly villagers from Newtemple, who had been kidnapped from their homes by the supposed priests and set to work mining.  Apparently the priests were searching for some kind of lost artefact - doubtless this was what led them to concoct that ridiculous story about the 'Hand of Pelor' - and were using the villagers as slaves to this end.  The prisoners were also able to tell me that the priests' human appearance was only an illusion - beneath this they were actually some kind of foul cat-people.

Armed with some knowledge of what lay ahead, and knowing that the enemy had already used arcane magic, I protected myself from fire - which I have found to be the most common weapon of wizards - and led the way forward.

Soon, I arrived at a four-way intersection.  One route led back the way I had come, while each of the other three led to a small chamber.  In each chamber stood one of the supposed Pelorites, doubtless seeking to catch us in a cross-fire.

As far as it went, this was a reasonable plan - unfortunately for the 'priests', it did not go anywhere near far enough.  Without other troops to protect them, and having chosen to fight in a location where there zombies were too large to manoeuvre, there was nothing to prevent us from charging forward to engage them.  It was arrogance, nothing more.  Even something as simple as a pit trap would have offered some protection.

It was true that the creatures were very hard to strike: the two I slew seemed to know my attacks as soon as I did, slipping aside of many blows.  Even when my flail did land on one of them, it seemed to have little impact, as if they were somehow resistant to the blows.  But as anyone who has fought skeletons would know, few things are immune to all weapons.  When I saw their resistance to the flail, I tried striking them with the spiked gauntlets on my hands, and these pierced satisfyingly deep into their flesh.

When it saw that both of its companions had fallen, the last of the creatures attempted to turn me from my task, claiming that without the protection of its kind, the folk of Newtemple would soon be massacred by the invading humanoids.  Perhaps it truly expected this sophistry to stay my hand.  If so, then at least it did not have to bear its disappointment for long: within the minute, it lay dead at my feet.

With the threat of these cat-creatures destroyed, I returned to the surface and ordered the townsfolk to make ready to leave as soon as it was light.  Initially, there was some resistance, but when I made it clear that their choices were to go and live, or stay and die, they became much more amenable.

It was a hard task to get them all aboard the ship, and I had to throw many unnecessary items into the sea, before it could be accomplished. Refugees will try to take the most useless of items, and I insisted that only food, clothes, weapons - of which they had none - and easily portable valuables were to come aboard.

After a few days' sailing, we returned to Saltmarsh, where the Pelorites handed over the reward they had promised.  I intend now to organise an expedition to Mellin.  While this will not directly progress my investigation of the rise of the swamp, it will allow me to acquire a number of supplies that I require.  Our Lord has seen fit to grant me access to some of his more potent blessings, and the rituals for these require certain materials that cannot be acquired in a small village such as Saltmarsh.  A journey to Mellin will also allow me to learn more of the war effort.

I will report again upon my return from Mellin.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Well, that's interesting.  Did that come with the module or did they use stats from some other golem?




The Stained Glass Golem was in the original adventure (which was for 2E).  The 3E version is in _Monster manual 2_.  I think the only change the DM made for 3.5 would have been to change the DR from 10/+2 to 10/magic.

The 'cat people' at the end are modified Rakshasa.  The DM reduced their Hit Points, but left most of their other abilities intact or nearly-so.  We got _buckets_ of XP for this adventure, needless to say 

At the end of this adventure, everyone except the druid hit 7th level.  The druid reached 6th.

I'll add stats for Gnorric and Jav (his new cohort) to the RG thread next week - I don't have the stat blocks with me at the moment.


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## Lela

Now that you're getting up there in levels are there any plans for a PrC for Kull?

 Thanks for the info on the golem!


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## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Now that you're getting up there in levels are there any plans for a PrC for Kull?




'Now'?  Heck, there were plans when he was being _created_ .  I'm an inveterate planner, so I usually have those sorts of things worked out _well_ in advance.  I know what Kull's feat selections will be through to about 15th level, for instance.

So yeah, there's a PrC planned.  Templar, to be specific: and at the end of this session, Kull finished all the pre-reqs 

But trust me - Gnorric and Jav's PrC plans are much scarier ...


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## Lela

I really meant that it was time I started asking about it.  I usually don't ask at 1st, as characters tend to die and/or change over time.  7th is usually a good time to ask.  By the way, Templar's Mettle=Fun.  More so for Paladins but I'm sure you'll enjoy it.

 Can't wait to find out what Gnorric's choice will be.  What, since I seemed to have missed it, brought Jav into  the party?  I had thought he was a cohort.


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## Thomas Hobbes

Just got back from a D&D mini's game with my newfound Christmas loot.  In which, incidentally, a mail-clad Half-orc led my forces in glorious battle (until he was bested in personal combat by an female elf and he decided discretion was the better part of valour.  Um).

Interesting update.  I take it that the town was swarmed shortly afterwards, or do you not know this for sure?  And did Kull show any interest in the artifact they were looking for?


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## Capellan

> What, since I seemed to have missed it, brought Jav into the party? I had thought he was a cohort.




Yep, he is a cohort.  But Mantreus has him headed for a PrC, just the same 



> Interesting update. I take it that the town was swarmed shortly afterwards, or do you not know this for sure? And did Kull show any interest in the artifact they were looking for?




We assume it was swarmed.  It was, after all, empty, and the goblinoids probably have shamans that would notice the departure of the Rakshasa.

Kull's attitude toward the relic = dismissal.  Who cares about some manky cat bauble?  It's probably just a fossilised ball of twine.

The next session - which I will start updating late in the week, probably - was an interesting one.  Due to circumstances, arwink and I were the only players.  When your party consists of Kull and two antisocial Dwarves, you have to expect things to be a little less than diplomatic.  Even if Kull does have ranks in it, these days


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## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> Yep, he is a cohort. But Mantreus has him headed for a PrC, just the same



Ah, looks like I misread another statement.  I'm sure M will enlighten us as to this mysterious PrC when he gets back (hint, hint).


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## Capellan

Since I (unlike _some_ people    ) have finished telling the tale of Newtemple, I've added Gnorric and Jav's stats to the Rogue's Gallery.


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## Capellan

*Kull's 10th Report - Part 1*

Kleim
Tenth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,


My return to Saltmarsh has been delayed by unexpected developments, and a report is overdue, so I am taking this opportunity to provide an update on the status of my mission.  At the time of writing, I am in the village of Kleim, on the Windholm Peninsula.  I have come here in the course of a mission that, if successful, might change the entire complexion of the war.

After my last report, I spent several days dealing with matter of administration and security within Saltmarsh, before setting out on my journey for Mellin.  I travelled in the company of Dargrim, and the Fharlanghian, Ulfgar.  The wizard Gnorric had left several days earlier, together with one of the refugees from Torlynn, citing urgent business with the temple of Wee Jas.  This sudden interest in the church of the death goddess bears watching, though it was in truth a relief to travel without his incessant prattle.

The journey to Mellin told a grim story of the progress of the war: refuse littered the roads, clear signs of an army in retreat and disorder, and I found in one orchard a murdered officer, hung by his own troops.  Had I needed any further evidence of the rout of the Duke's armies, I had it when we were waylaid by a force of goblin scouts.  No doubt they had the confidence to attack us only because of the hill giant that marched with them.  They did not survive to learn from this mistake: giant and goblin alike fell before us, and our only loss was Dargrim's shield, split asunder by the giant's club.

The enemy carried provisions enough for a journey of many days: a long range patrol of the humanoids, I would say.  This, at least, was a glimmer of good news: the cowardice of the human troops may be their saving grace, for they have fled so far and so fast that the enemy has lost contact.  If - and only if - the army can be brought back into order, it might be possible to mount a defence of the Mellin River.

Of course, whether that line will be held - if it is even formed - is no certain matter.  It was said that the defenders of Fire Pass could hold for months, yet they fell in weeks.

Upon reaching Mellin, I found the fields had been set aflame, and the city gates shut against all travellers.  A few of the more nervous guards fired upon my group, but their skill matched their courage, and none of us were injured.  I demanded entry, and after some delays, made my way within.

The purpose of my visit was to purchase magical reagents - and now a new shield for Dargrim - but while gathering the items I needed, I was approached by a messenger.  He had been sent, it seemed, by a wizard named Gamist, who sought a meeting.  I agreed, and accompanied the messenger to his master's home.

This Gamist may be the first man in the Duchy for whom I can feel even the slightest respect.  The purpose of our meeting, he explained, was that he had need of someone to recover a substance known as Quoitine, which he believed could be found here on the Windholm Peninsula.  The wizard's research in earth magic led him to believe that he could use this substance - a rare gemstone usually found only on the elemental plane of earth - to craft a powerful spell which would seal the mountain passes for several months, trapping the goblinoid armies and allowing time for them to be destroyed in detail.

I agreed immediately to undertake the task: while I could not be sure the man had the ability to do as he claimed, he at least had a plan to defeat the humanoids, which was more than could be said for any other I have met. 

Leaving a message for Gnorric to follow when he was finished with his business at the church of Wee Jas, I set out the next morning.  After two days travel, I arrived at the village of Kleim, on the edge of the peninsula.  Pinned to the sign bearing the town's name was a notice, speaking of a threat to the town, and directing enquiries to one Councillor Baur.  I decided to speak to the man and learn of this threat, in case it might interfere with my journey.

Councillor Baur proved to be a young man, obviously new to his position.  He explained that the 'threat' was actually a theft: a gang of goblins had made off with the village's 'Sceptre of Truth', an item the villagers believed to have the power of forcing those holding it to speak only the truth.  Whether this was true or not, I had little interest in searching for the item until the Councillor spoke of where he believed the goblins were hiding.

It seemed that there was a small, rocky island just off the coast, where an adventurer named Raven had built a stronghold for himself.  Raven had not been seen for some years, and the goblins were thought to have taken the building for themselves.  This in itself was not that interesting: but the fact that Raven had built his home on the ruins of an older fortress most certainly was.  Twice before, I have found ancient strongholds that were cast down by magic.  It was possible that these ruins were a third, and that more information on the growth of the swamp could be found there.

I thus decided to help the Councillor recover his lost Sceptre.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Ooooh, more ruined fortresses to explore. Very exciting. I also note that a Hill Giant is dismissed as a threat these days...Kull's confidence is somewhat overwhelming.


----------



## Joshua Randall

Capellan said:
			
		

> I know what Kull's feat selections will be through to about 15th level, for instance.
> 
> So yeah, there's a PrC planned. Templar, to be specific: and at the end of this session, Kull finished all the pre-reqs



I'm surprised Kull isn't going for the Fist of Hextor PrC. But hey - Templar is one of the best *coughmostbrokencough* cleric PrCs out there, so who I am to second guess?


----------



## Capellan

> I'm surprised Kull isn't going for the Fist of Hextor PrC. But hey - Templar is one of the best *coughmostbrokencough* cleric PrCs out there, so who I am to second guess?




Fist of Hextor ran a very close second, in the PrC stakes, along with Warpriest.  In fact, if our priest in Copperheads wasn't going for the latter PrC, Kull would probably have gone that way instead.  As for Templar being 'broken' ... I don't entirely agree.  It's definitely hideously front-loaded (a fact that I will shamelessly exploit for the next few levels  ), but if you take 4+ levels in it then the loss of spellcasting really begins to add up.  Obviously, if the campaign goes epic, that loss gets balanced out, but I don't think this one will.



> also note that a Hill Giant is dismissed as a threat these days...Kull's confidence is somewhat overwhelming.




It's easy to be confident when the fight is over  ... but Kull definitely would not want to meet _two_ hill giants.  I think we'd lose a lot more than a shield, if that happened.


----------



## Mortepierre

Joshua Randall said:
			
		

> I'm surprised Kull isn't going for the Fist of Hextor PrC. But hey - Templar is one of the best *coughmostbrokencough* cleric PrCs out there, so who I am to second guess?




Which goes to show Kull is smart. As a Fist, he would be one of many. As a Templar, he can end up in command of a whole regiment of Fists!


----------



## arwink

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Which goes to show Kull is smart. As a Fist, he would be one of many. As a Templar, he can end up in command of a whole regiment of Fists!




It also goes to show why the DM is on the back foot in this game.  Between Capellan and I, we can twink out the party twice as fast as he can twink out the NPCs 

And for the record: Ulfgar has survived his fourth adventure.  It's a new record.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Out of curiosity, arwink, how goes the gaming thesis?


----------



## silburnl

Hi all, just finished reading the whole of this SH (slow day at the office, lah) and its been great fun. Not least because I'm currently running a LN Fist of Hextor who shares a Kull's outlook to a great extent - Sandro's built on a Ranger/Fighter combination rather than pure cleric though, so he's less of a proselytiser/smiter and more a hardbitten military adviser who's interested in getting the job done, whatever it takes. I'll definitely be borrowing some of Kull's pithier bon mots for future sessions however; he gets.... exasperated by the indiscipline and lack of seriousness shown by the citizens of Highfolk in their struggle with Iuz sometimes.

I'm a tad suprised at some of the reflexive anti-Hextorian comments though. Characters like Kull (and Sandro) seem like they'd be fairly common 'freelance' Hextorians to me - a typically pragmatic use by the Church for those lacking sufficient commitment to the core tenets of the faith to be trusted with significant authority close to the inner councils. So you send them out to prepare the ground and they'll either fail to prosper or, once they have established a bridgehead, they can be replaced with more reliable officers and recalled to Hextor central for 'debriefing'.

Regards
Luke


----------



## Capellan

> It also goes to show why the DM is on the back foot in this game. Between Capellan and I, we can twink out the party twice as fast as he can twink out the NPCs




I don't see the DM as being on the 'back foot' myself.  By numbers, this is the most dangerous campaign we're playing (6 PC deaths).  And the DM _always_ has the upper hand, if he wants it: even if we can out-twink him on a same-CR level, he can just up all the encounters to CR+5.

I'd say the game is going pretty much how the DM wants it to, these days.  Probably nothing like what he envisaged, when we started playing 12 months ago, but he's done a very good job of adapting to some rather oddball PCs, and letting us run off with his campaign in a very different direction.  And as far as I can tell, he's having as much fun with it as we are (in a head-shaking, "I'm going to have to send Paladins after you", kind of way, perhaps ... but still fun).



> And for the record: Ulfgar has survived his fourth adventure. It's a new record.




And we both know _why_ he isn't PC-death number 7, don't we?


----------



## Lela

arwink said:
			
		

> It also goes to show why the DM is on the back foot in this game.  Between Capellan and I, we can twink out the party twice as fast as he can twink out the NPCs
> 
> And for the record: Ulfgar has survived his fourth adventure.  It's a new record.



 Doesn't sound like all that twinking is doing you a whole lot of good arwink.  Maybe new dice are the answer.


----------



## arwink

Mostly, I just need a new mindset.  I don't play cautious adventurers.  I barely play adventurers capable of using common sense.  I am, at core, a kick the door kind of player, which is one of the reasons Zalich was a really hard character for me to get into - he was inherantly cautious.

Wil and, to a lesser extent, Ulfgar are built on that principle and were much more fun for me to play.  I even carefully considered bringing Wil back from the dead when he died, but eventually decided against it.  

Ulfgar's also built with a lot of hit points, which helps no end 

And while I'll agree that the DM doesn't have any real trouble challenging the characters - we've had more than our fair share of tough fights however briefly Kull reports them - it's harder to challenge the players.  Two regular DM's in the group means a lot of rules knowledge, the ability to pick monsters within moments of starting a fight, and twinky PCs.  

And the poor guy has to be real careful about rolling the right dice when making "unnecessary" checks for traps or search rolls.


----------



## Lela

> And the poor guy has to be real careful about rolling the right dice when making "unnecessary" checks for traps or search rolls.



 Mmmm, how does that work?  Not that I encorage talking about DMs in Story Hours or anything (psst, Wee Jas, hint, hint).


----------



## Capellan

> has to be careful about rolling the right dice




DM: you find a chest.
Capellan: "Troilan, check it for traps."
DM: do you?
Troilan's Player: yeah, sure
DM: *clatter of dice behind screen* You're pretty confident it's not trapped.
Capellan: I'm certain it isn't ... that was a d4 you just rolled.
DM: ...
Arwink: they sound different, you know

Yeah, we're geeks 



> (psst, Wee Jas, hint, hint).




?


----------



## Lela

Quotepsst, Wee Jas, hint, hint).​ ?

 From Dr. Midnight's old Story Hour.  There's gotta be someone here who knows what I'm talking about?


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 10th Report - Part 2*

Arranging passage out to the ruins on the island proved a simple task, and I set out before dawn the next morning, stepping ashore just as the sky began to lighten in the east.  Raven's stronghold sat at the end of a high spur of rock, granting it a clear range of vision over many miles.  Despite this, there was no sign of movement or alarm to be seen: either the darkness had covered my arrival, or these goblins were as inefficient as most of their kind, and had mounted no competent watch.

Leading the way to the building, I entered through the front door.  This led to a narrow, looping corridor, overlooked by a broad stone ledge.  Suspicious that ambushers might lurk there, I immediately scaled the wall.

My suspicions were well-founded: four goblins hid at the top, armed with nets and poisoned daggers.  In truth, I cannot fault their choice of tactics: it offered them a strong defensive position, from which they could easily snare and defeat most intruders.  My immediate investigation of their ledge caught them off guard, however, and their ambush set awry.

I managed to wound one of the creatures before they could react, but two others cast down their net, entangling Ulfgar and Dargim.  The two dwarves soon cut their way free, however, and moved down the corridor in search of another way up.  They quickly found one, and we crushed the goblins between us.  The creatures were unusually fierce for their kind.  I believe we faced elite troops – at least by the standards of the goblin race – possibly sent to the island on some business of the humanoid armies.

Moving on, we entered what appeared to be a disused room.  Ulfgar too readily accepted this appearance, and moved forward, finding himself the target of a hail of arrows from hidden archers.  Their barbs were well-aimed, and all of us took wounds, though none were felled.  No doubt, if they could, the goblins would have fled at this time, but they had chosen a position without a line of retreat, and were butchered in swift order: without the advantage of surprise, they fell easily beneath my flail.

The next area of the fortress proved to be the prison cells.  The first cell contained a kobold prisoner, but it would not co-operate, and made laughable threats against me, so I slew it.  Only one other cell was occupied, with a pair of skeletons that had been manacled to the wall.  Bidding the others stand back, I entered the cell alone.  Ruins such as these are endlessly infested with minor undead irritants, and this proved to be the case here, as the skeletons rushed forward to attack me.

Before they had crossed even half the room, Hextor's Will had consumed them, and turned them to my service.  It would have been well if Gnorric had seen this, and learned the folly of his fascination with such creatures.  But this lesson will have to wait.

Further exploration caused me to once more reduce my opinion of the goblin defenders.  I had thought them foolish at the outset, for they had not set a guard on the island, but the two ambushes I had so far faced had been as well executed as could be expected for such weak and disorganised creatures.  Deeper within the stronghold, however, their discipline was negligible once more.  We faced and swiftly slew two wolf-riders, though they destroyed one of the skeletons before they fell.  The fight they gave was better than most goblins could offer, but it was only through their own indolence that they met us alone.  Their location meant that they must surely have heard our battles with the earlier groups, but they had made no effort to investigate, nor even to sound the alarm.  Any man under my command who showed such negligence would be executed as an example to his fellows.

The wolf-riders had made their quarters in the dining hall.  Beyond this lay the kitchen, but this contained only rats and some tattered spider webs, so I led the way down another hall, into what appeared to be a small drawing room.  I had barely stepped inside, however, before the skeleton that walked before me suddenly vanished through the solid flagstones of the floor.

Investigation quickly showed that these flagstones were nothing more than an illusion, placed over an open pit trap.  The skeleton had been shattered by the drop, and so I left it, and we continued into the next room.  There, we faced and quickly slew a pair of hobgoblins, with only Ulfgar being hurt in the fight..

There were two doors leading from this chamber, which appeared to be the true drawing room, and was rather larger than the false one.  There was little to distinguish the two doors, and no enemies had issued forth from either, despite the commotion of our battle.  In the end I chose that we would head to the right, for that door stood slightly ajar, suggesting that it might have been used more recently.

In this supposition, I was correct, for the door opened into a chamber some twenty feet to a side, in which stood an array of enemies.  There were five goblins amongst the foe, but these were not the true challenge to be faced: behind them stood a pair of hobgoblins, proud and tall, and I knew we had found the leaders of this band.

The first of the two was close to seven feet in height, and dressed in a mighty suit of plate armour.  He clasped a massive greatsword in his hands.  His compatriot was less tall, though still taller than most men, and bore no armour or weapons.  Instead, he wore the robes of a wizard or scholar, and he quickly proved he was the former, as he spoke words of arcane power, and hurled a mighty bolt of lightning against us.


----------



## Lela

Hmmmm, am I detecting Kull starting to lean a little more on the side of Evil?


----------



## Zaruthustran

Wow, another awesome story hour. Interesting perspective(s), quality writing. 

But let's not forget the campaign! The padre should be commended. The mystery of the swamp is intriguing. The "before" and "after" maps are stunning in their scope--the "after" image shows a town and entire region submerged under a new encroachment of the sea. What magic could cause such a massive change to the landscape, and why was it wielded?

-z


----------



## Lela

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Wow, another awesome story hour. Interesting perspective(s), quality writing.
> 
> But let's not forget the campaign! The padre should be commended. The mystery of the swamp is intriguing. The "before" and "after" maps are stunning in their scope--the "after" image shows a town and entire region submerged under a new encroachment of the sea. What magic could cause such a massive change to the landscape, and why was it wielded?
> 
> -z



Wha?  Where art these maps of which thou doest speak?  Have I seen them and forgotten or art they new to mine eyes?


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Wha?  Where art these maps of which thou doest speak?  Have I seen them and forgotten or art they new to mine eyes?




You've forgotten them   

EDIT: As of October '04, these links no longer work.  I'll try and find a new place to link the files when i get home, just before Xmas.

Current Map of Saltmarsh Area
Old Map of Saltmarsh Area


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 10th Report - Part 3*

Hextor's providence protected me, and the lightning passed me by, without harm.  It raged over both Ulfgar and Dargrim, but each managed to protect himself from it to some extent, reducing the harm they suffered.

I have grown used to Ulfgar as a taciturn, despondent companion, but that dull gloom sometimes becomes a fierce anger, and so it was this day: he sprang forward into the midst of the enemy, laying about him with his sword.  For my own part, I saw clear to a less fierce - but more effective – tactic.  Dargrim stepped before me, blocking the door with his stout body and even stouter shield, and I invoked Hextor's power, sealing the enemy's position in a globe of inviolate silence.  At this single stroke, one of our opponents was nullified: no more spells would pass the wizard's lips.

The huge fighter, however, was by no means inhibited by this act, and he charged forward to engage Dargrim, seeking to drive us back and give his compatriot a place to use his magic.  There was a shower of sparks as their blades met, then another as he slammed his sword against Dargrim's shield.  The first blow fell silently; the second rang with the sound of steel on steel, and I called for the dwarf to hold his ground, while conjuring a glowing flail in the air to strike at our enemy.

And thus was this fight of two halves joined: in the silent room, Ulfgar battled the goblins, while at the doorway, Dargrim and I faced their leader.  At first, it seemed as if my invocation of silence would be enough to win the day: the wizard had been eliminated from the fight, and Ulfgar quickly felled two of the goblins.  As soon as he joined the fight against the hobgoblin fighter, I knew the battle would be won.

But as the hobgoblin's blows fell like hammers on Dargrim's shield and armour, I could see that the fight was still in the balance.  Ulfgar had felled a third goblin, but he bled from many wounds, and his own attacks were no longer as strong and accurate as they had been.  He would not come to Dargrim's aid in time: in fact, as he took another injury, I began to wonder if he would come to Dargrim's aid at all.

But Hextor grants us many tools with which to win our battles, and the sphere of silence was merely the first I had used.  Seeing the strength of the enemy's mighty sword, I spoke the words of breaking, sending Our Lord's power forth to shatter the steel like glass.  The huge hobgoblin reeled back, with only the stump of the blade in his hand.

Desperation now moved the foe, and the wizard dashed past his fighter companion, rushing through the words of a spell as he managed to squeeze into an area where speech could be used.  As the words of the incantation finished, Dargrim's limbs locked in place, leaving him helpless as a statue.  Ulfgar, however, was far from helpless, and the wizard's desperate move had left him open to the dwarf's blade: he staggered now as Ulfgar cut him deeply, though he did not fall.

Or perhaps I should say, he did not fall _then_.  Instead, he had the ignominy of living a few seconds more: just long enough to see my invocation to Hextor blast away his paralysing magic, before the glowing flail I had summoned stove in his skull.

For all this, the fight was still not won.  The huge hobgoblin was reduced to the use of a dagger, but together with the last of his goblin followers, he knocked Ulfgar to the ground, the dwarf falling victim of his own recklessness and the power of a more skilful warrior.

In truth, I think I too often rely on the strength of my arm, rather than the strength and power that Hextor grants us, but against this foe I did not make that error.  I invoked our Lord again, sending the pain and confusion of battle into the mind of my foe.  I saw him sway, his eyes glazing as he tried to fight my curse, but his will could never match that of Hextor, and he stumbled, shaking his head as he tried to clear the pain and remember his purpose.

It was enough to hold him from stabbing the fallen Ulfgar, though his goblin companion was not restrained, and sank a blade into the dwarf's side.  I have little personal liking for the follower of Fharlanghn, but he has been a sturdy servant of my cause, and I would not lose his sword, if I can prevent it.  Knowing that the foul goblin would strike again, I summoned forth a great dire wolf from the stables of Our Lord, and it tore the weakling creature asunder.

Dargrim stepped forward, moving to engage hobgoblin, who still struggled with the curse of pain and confusion I had laid upon him.  Often, his blows would falter and be forgotten, as he tried to remember his purpose and intent.  But, even with the wolf now tearing at his back, he stood his ground, barring the way forward, and Dargrim could not force a path to Ulfgar's side, as the dwarf slipped closer to death.


----------



## Lela

Dang, that guy can take a beating.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 10th Report - Part 4*

I am a strong man.  I have met few indeed who are stronger.  But that is the strength of mortals, which will ever pale against the might of Hextor.  I invoked His name again - rarely have I done so, so often – and felt his power suffuse me.

Charging forward, I drove the enemy back into the room, all but knocking him from his feet.  He struck at me as I came, but his blow faltered against my divine strength.  Dismissing the zone of silence, I granted Ulfgar one of the lesser healings, doing just enough to prevent his immediate death.

Already off-balance, my opponent fell as the wolf I had summoned bit into his ankle and dragged him to the ground.  Despite this, and the other injuries he had already suffered, he staggered to his feet and attacked again.  It was a courageous action – but a foolish one.  He would have been better to attempt to flee, for alive he could have sought revenge.  Alone against myself, Dargrim and the wolf, he could not hope to triumph.

Once I had landed the final blow, and all my enemies lay slain, I revived Ulfgar.  However, his injuries were still severe, and I had used every ounce of magic I could command in the battle, so we rested and I went through the belongings of the dead, in search of the missing sceptre.  This I duly found, as well as another of the mysterious orbs that seem to be responsible for the expansion of the marsh.

I could at this point have left the complex, but I had little wish to leave a job half-done.  The 'Sceptre of Truth' had been recovered, but some areas of the stronghold were as yet unexplored, and I had found no sign of Raven, the builder and owner.

Opening the opposite door in the drawing room revealed a bedchamber.  Strangely, two goblins lay just inside the doorway, fast asleep, while a man lay snoring on the bed.  There seemed little chance that this slumber could be anything other than magical.  However, most magic can be resisted, by those of strong will.  Realising this, I ordered Dargrim to end the lives of the sleeping goblins, which he duly accomplished with his longspear, while I determined who should enter the room and attempt to resist the magical effect.

In the end, I chose Ulfgar.  I would have preferred to enter for myself, but dwarves have a natural resistance to magic, and as the strongest amongst us, I was best suited to dragging him out, should he succumb.  And succumb he did, not even reaching the bed before collapsing to the floor.

The way forward seemed to be thwarted: the magical slumber was too strong to resist.  Yet, as I looked across the room, I could see another door in the left hand wall.  Obviously, there were rooms beyond: the only question was whether this was the only way to reach them.  There was one room we had not yet examined, and I led the way back to this.  It proved to be a store room of some kind, filled with dusty old boxes and barrels.

Neither the boxes nor the barrels were of much interest to me, but in searching through the detritus, I noticed a section of wall which seemed slightly recessed.  I called Dargrim over to examine it, and his keen eye for stonework soon located a hidden switch that caused this entire section to pivot, opening into another room: a study of some kind.

Entering the study, I made a quick examination of the volumes on the shelf, discovering another map of the old coastline.  However, unlike the last we had found, this one made mention of a structure or settlement known as 'The Beacon'.  Possibly this is another of the ancient forts I have learned of.  Once my task in the Windholm Peninsula is at an end, I will make my way to this site to investigate it.

Other than the secret door by which we had entered, there was only one exit from the study: a door that led back into the bedchamber.  However, from this angle I could get a much better view of the room, and I invoked Hextor's power to show me any sources of magic in the room.  Immediately, I perceived a glow around a painting on the wall.  This showed a peaceful pastoral scene, with a man asleep beneath a tree.

Taking aim with my crossbow, I knocked the painting from the wall, and the man in the bed awoke.  After a short conversation, I learned that this was Raven, who had built the fortress many years before.  He remembered nothing since falling asleep after hanging the painting on his wall, some several years ago, and for some time refused to believe the true date.  Eventually he came to accept this, though with ill grace: he did not ever demonstrate the proper gratitude for one who has been saved from a curse.

Returning to the mainland on the boat the next morning, I found that Gnorric and Jav had arrived while we were on the island.  I presented the sceptre back to Councillor Baur, who insisted on a feast in our honour.  Although it means the loss of a half-day's travel, I have agreed: it may be well to foster a friendship between this town and Saltmarsh.  Additionally, I have been able to use the time until the feast to pen this message to yourself.

I will write again once the Quoitine has been recovered.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Lela

Cool trap.  That may be a yoink right there.  Got any details for me?

 Any chance we'll be hearing from Gnoric in the near future?  Give him a poke from Lela.  And then poke the player.


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Cool trap.  That may be a yoink right there.  Got any details for me?
> 
> Any chance we'll be hearing from Gnoric in the near future?  Give him a poke from Lela.  And then poke the player.




The trap was essentially a painting that, as soon as it was hung on the wall, created a sleep effect in a specified area.  It had no Hit Die limit and some ridiculous DC to resist.  If you can find it, the module is an old D&D Rules Cyclopedia one - Assault on Raven's Ruin, updated to 3E and with the monsters heavily beefed up.

As for Gnorric (Mantreus) ... he's just a very slack person, and he smells of elberberries, too.


----------



## Mantreus

Capellan said:
			
		

> As for Gnorric (Mantreus) ... he's just a very slack person, and he smells of elberberries, too.




I do not smell of elberberries!

Anyway, I beleive I have some major catching up to do. I'll be trying to post as often as possible to do this, but it may confuse some readers as I'm way behind. My apologies for this :/

Speaking of updates.. here comes one now!

(By the way, the following post continues on from this post


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

I touched the foul thing with my spectral hand, delivering a chill attack. It seemed to pause for a moment, and then turned tail and ran. Dargrim missed it on the way out, but successfully felled it with his bow. The remaining 3 ghouls still cowered in the corner, so Dargrim and myself fired our bows into them until they fell. I must say, for a “puny” wizard, I brought one of the horrible things down with only two shots.. and they both hit! I must be getting better at this shooting thing.

Once the ghouls and ghast were definitely dead, I moved through the bodies taking samples of their flesh. This is the first chance I’ve had to examine ghoul flesh in detail and it’s fascinating stuff! I won’t go into details here in my journal though, I’m telling a story here.

After a while, Will and Kull were up and moving again, with Kull looking particularly embarrassed. It’s nasty of me, but I was almost tempted to tickle his nose whilst he was incapacitated. I guess the only reason I didn’t was because he would be up and about eventually, and I didn’t really want to be on the wrong end of his flail. I’m on the wrong end of his rapier “wit” as it is.

Kull instructed Dargrim to check the sarcophagi for anything interesting and he found false bottoms in all of them! They were all trapped as well. We moved well back while Dargrim attempted to disarm the traps. He successfully disabled the first two, but the last two a bit difficult and he inadvertently set them off. The first flashed at him with some sort of electrical charge I think, but he managed to avoid most of the damage. The final one was quite nasty as it spurted a corrosive slime on his hand which proceeded to burn it’s way through his flesh. Kull quickly grabbed a torch and burnt the slime off before it could do too much damage. I must say, Dargrim handled it quite well as he merely gritted his teeth as Kull applied the flame to his hand.

We found quite a few interesting things in the sarcophagi. Some potions, coin, a nifty looking dagger and some beads that I recognised as force beads. I took these. Kull however found a most impressive looking flail. I seemed to glow with an almost pure white light and was obviously magical.

We continued on into the kitchen and discovered two ratmen butchering some kind of carcass. I found it quite amazing that they didn’t come to investigate as we fought the ghouls, but in either case, we made short work of them. I quickly dazed one with a simple cantrip enabling Will to do his impressive tumbling past them. He quickly skewered one and it slid to the floor. The other proved only slightly more troublesome as Kull thumped it with his new flail, and the icky thing almost fell, but not quite. Once again Will came to the rescue and gutted it from behind.

We looked through the kitchen larders and found some slightly serviceable food, but nothing really worth writing about.

We continued on through the rear of the house and found an old ballroom. The entire room was covered in rubbish and debris. Kull proceeded to look through the garbage and quickly uncovered sixty gold! That was all the impetus I needed and joined him in his search. All I uncovered at first was a small nest of large rats that proceeded to bite me. I attempted to kill them with my crossbow, buoyed by my good showing with the ghouls, but I was back to being a terrible shot again. Kull rolled his eyes and stomped over with Dargim and they quickly squished the lot of them. Obviously he didn’t seem impressed with me saving his life from the ghast! Pah!

We continued to search the room for some time, occasionally releasing a few more rats that the sword swingers quickly despatched. In the end I found a wand, which I am yet to identify, which was good. I’m hoping it contains something useful like the spell I recently discovered that preserves corpses as that would be wonderfully handy.

We came to a room that contained a few old bones which unfortunately didn’t animate at our approach. There was also an old bed, a chair and a desk. We proceeded to search the room, but as Will looked under the bed, he screamed in pain as a large beetle spat acid directly into the poor mans face!


----------



## Lela

Good to have you back Mantreus.  It's a perspective I've found myself missing.

 I can't wait for him to use that new spell by-the-way.  It sounds like he'd really get a kick out of it and it should be hilarious too.


----------



## Mantreus

*From the Journal of Gnorric*

Will looked away from the horrid thing and I noticed that his normally pleasant features were horribly scarred. He gave an almost animal growl and buried his sword in the beetle with all of his might. It thrashed about briefly and expired. Kull was able to heal the damage to Wills face slightly, but it would be faintly scarred for the rest of his life.

After the small bit of excitement after the beetle, we continued to search the room and found a locked box in the desk that Dargrim announced was magically trapped. We all immediately thought of the crystal key we found earlier and I retrieved it from my bag of holding and Will used it to open the box. I was still a bit concerned about it blowing up, but Will opened it without a problem.

Inside we discovered another wand, a dagger that was obviously magical and a golden headband. This wizards mansion was proving to be most beneficial to myself! A fact that Kull apparently had not missed with his grumbling about useless magic sticks. I don’t understand what he’s complaining about. He did get a fabulous flail!

Realising that if we were correct with out mapping of the mansion, that there was only a relatively small corner of the building left to explore, we prepared to meet whatever it was causing the cold. Obviously, nothing we had encountered so far had proved much of a real threat, so this was it! I cast a magical force about myself to turn away blows and prepared for the worst.

We came to what was obviously an old disused laboratory. The entire room was covered with slick ice. Toward the centre of the room we could see a sword embedded within the ice. However, a smug looking ratman sitting on a throne (also made of ice) and his four ratman cronies got our immediate attention.

The leader from the throne leapt to the floor and quickly stabbed Dargrim with a dagger obviously dripping of venom. Dargrim visibly weakened at the attack and I knew we were up against formidable opponents. It was then that Will leapt into the fray with amazing speed to move to the other side of the ratman leader and gave him a telling blow. However, this leaft the pour man open to the vicious attacks of the other cronies and Will fell under their blades before he realised what was happening… I almost felt the life leaving his body, and for the first time, I was saddened to see a corpse.

The fight continued on however, with myself contributing a small amount by forcing one to sleep and my little Wee Bat performing some vampiric touch attacks for me. I embarrassed myself somewhat when I moved forward to finish off the ratman that I had forced to sleep. I pulled out my dagger, but I slipped in the process of cutting his throat and all I succeeded in doing was waking him up. It quickly leapt its feet and attacked me with a nasty blow, and I thought I was done for. Dargrim came to my aid having finally felled the ratman leader after a hard fought battle and quickly laid him low. Kull and Dargrim then quickly felled the remaining ratmen.

To be honest, the battle was all a bit of a blur after Will fell. He was such a nice lad, and I shall miss his small chuckles whenever I mentioned my life’s work to him. Our little adventure wasn’t quite over yet though.

We searched the laboratory and found a small ajoining cell containing what appeared to be four dead elves locked in the ice. Obviously the previous adventuring party sent to clear out the old wizards mansion. Kull grabbed Wills flaming sword to defrost the ice surrounding the elves with a short comment about having to get another deputy. He can be such an uncaring fellow, and I then and there resolved to see Wills mother on our return to see if there was anything I could do for her. I think she might like to have Will back helping about the house, and I could provide that service. Yes, I shall definitely go and see her…

Anyway, Kull defrosted the elves, and they turned out to be alive after all. The leader mentioned that the sword in the ice was his, and called to it in a strange tongue and the ice began to melt instantly. I thought it was all over, but then a hideous creature made of the ice itself broke out and attacked Kull with a roar of triumph.


----------



## Lela

I feel an 80s sitcom coming on:

Gnoric, the Inappropriate Wizard

And, yes, there's a jingle.

 Oi.


----------



## Horacio

I'm here again, as this is one of my favorites stories


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Mantreus said:
			
		

> He can be such an uncaring fellow, and I then and there resolved to see Wills mother on our return to see if there was anything I could do for her. I think she might like to have Will back helping about the house, and I could provide that service. Yes, I shall definitely go and see her…




In the name of all that's holy!

You better write what resulted from that meeting...


----------



## Mantreus

Thomas Hobbes said:
			
		

> In the name of all that's holy!
> 
> You better write what resulted from that meeting...



Oh I definitely plan to...


----------



## Capellan

Mantreus said:
			
		

> Oh I definitely plan to...




Though he does not, apparently, intend to rush the process   

I've been holding off on updates from Kull in the hope that Gnorric would catch up, but in the absence of an update, I think I'll post on Sunday.

Let's see if setting a deadline will help


----------



## Kurzak T

Post Post Post!  I've been dyin' over here waiting for an update!


----------



## Talix

On the one hand, keeping the stories together will provide better insight, keep people from going "what was going on then, again?", etc.

On the other hand, more updates faster == better!  

Quite a conundrum...  

On a side note, I continue to enjoy Kull's unique perspective, and Gnorric's fresh viewpoint is just as welcome!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 11th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Eleventh Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,


I am pleased to report that the militia of Saltmarsh won its first battle with the humanoids while I was in the Windholm Peninsula.  I returned to the town a week ago to find twenty goblin heads on stakes outside the village.  It is true they faced only a small raiding force, but even this task would have been beyond them, mere months ago.

The next attack – should it come – will be no raiding force, of that I am sure.  Much has happened since my last report, and the state of the war is vastly different than it was before.  The humanoid forces no longer threaten Mellin's gates: instead they stream back toward the north, seeking to flee along the coastal road, attacking small villages for loot, supplies and slaves.  The mountain passes have been sealed, and the duchy's forces are on the advance.

It must stick in the throat of the Duke that he owes all this to a servant of Our Lord.

After departing Kleim, from where I made my last report, I travelled to the village of Cillau, in the centre of the peninsula.  There I made enquiries about the presence of quoitine - which were fruitless - and of the local lands.  It seemed that, other than Cillau, there were four places of note: Penrhys and Gwebli castles, a settlement known only as 'the Village by the Sea', and an ancient monument called the Hero's Marker, about which many local legends were told.

Of these, it seemed that Penrhys Castle might offer the best chance of the information we sought.  The castle itself was said to partly in ruins, but inhabited still by old Lady Penrhys, and it was my thought that she might have knowledge of the substance we sought.  I thus resolved to travel there in the morning.  As events would unfold, it would be several days before this visit actually occurred, and when it did, the Lady would prove to have fallen into undeath.  We destroyed her and told the local authorities of this, but the matter is of little consequence, and certainly had no bearing on my search for the quoitine.

The next morning, I began the journey to Penrhys Castle.  However, the route ran past a track leading to the Hero's Marker, and I resolved to investigate this site while the opportunity was there.  After all, my search was for a magical variety of stone, and this was a stone monument about which many legends had been told.  There was always the possibility that it was built from the very material I sought.

Arriving at the Hero's Marker, I found it to be a boulder some eight feet in height, beside a small cairn of stones.  The corpse of a large wolf lay next to the cairn, the creature seemingly destroyed by a blow from a massive blunt object - almost like the Hero's Marker had fallen upon it.

Although there was no quoitine here, there was obviously something unusual about the place, and if nothing else it offered a good vantage point to survey the area.  I instructed Ulfgar to climb atop the stone and report what he saw.  The dwarf did so, but as he jumped down, the stone turned beneath him, then began to rise, suddenly revealing itself to be some kind of large, boulder-like creature.

Staring down at us, it spoke in a voice like stones grinding together:

"Who has woken me?"


----------



## Lela

I hate it when stones do that.  It's just not natural.


----------



## Mortepierre

Lela said:
			
		

> I hate it when stones do that.  It's just not natural.




Eh, considering Ulfgar is a dwarf, methink we couldn't expect anything else


----------



## Talix

"It is I, Ghazeem!  The _humble_ thief..."

Oh, wait, wrong story.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

I finally made it through the 17 required pages of reading for this.  I still enjoy your writing guys.  I am really wishing I found Enworld a year ago.


----------



## Lela

Required pages? *Sigh* Makes you wish there was a class on Story Hours, don't it? It could sub for English Lit or something.


			
				Mantreus said:
			
		

> (By the way, the following post continues on from this post



By the way Mantreus, how'd you do that link?  I've tried to piece together my own but it never works out quite right.


----------



## arwink

Lela said:
			
		

> Required pages? *Sigh* Makes you wish there was a class on Story Hours, don't it?




Give me time


----------



## Lela

So, you'll be teaching in Utah when?  Or will this be an online course?


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 11th Report - Part 2*

I gave the creature my name and explained my purpose.  It knew of Quoitine, but did not know where it could be found, except within the elemental plane of earth.  However, there were other matters on which it was able to give me more useful information.

First, I should explain that the wizard Gamist had told me that the reason he believed the substance could be found in this area was because an adventurer named Swain had found some there, about ten years before.  I asked the creature if it had heard of this man, and it replied that it had: the folk from the village by the sea sometimes spoke of him, though it had not paid much attention to what they said.

I bade the creature tell me how to reach this village, which it did, and then asked what it might know of the other settlements in the peninsula.  It said that the Lord Gwebli was 'a good, but troubled man', and that it felt there was something amiss in Penrhys Castle, though it could not say more than this.

From the tales of the locals, I knew that the Hero's Marker had rested in this place for many decades, so I asked the creature if it remembered the time before the land had been consumed by the marsh.  It said that it did, and was even able to tell something of what occurred:

According to the creature, several hundred years ago some of the 'little people' - by which I believe it means humans - became followers of a 'great and powerful wyrm' (doubtless a dragon of some kind).  The wyrm sought to control the area, while the humans did its bidding.  The creature remembered that the wyrm's servants came from the sea, and had a great fleet of ships.  The 'land small folk' fought these people, and set up watch-posts along the coast.

Clearly, these watch-posts were the ruins that I have been exploring.  From the old documents I have found, these places were built to protect against marauding pirates, and were from the same period as the creature spoke of.

The creature also said that when the land-dwellers came to build their most powerful fortress, they called upon it for help.  It said this building - which it called 'the Beacon' lay north-east of where we currently stood, near the coast.  I marked this on my map, for I intend to visit this place as soon as is possible.

Though now in ruins, the watch-posts I have explored offer a strong foundation for the building of new and powerful defences for this land, and I asked if the creature would agree to help in their reconstruction.  It said that it would, in exchange for a boon - such as a small portion of any quoitine I might find.  These seemed fair terms, and I agreed to them immediately.

Finally, I asked of the wolf beside the cairn, and the creature replied that it had destroyed the beast, when the wolf attempted to disturb the resting place of Belanere, an ancient hero it had once served.

The creature's words were slow and halting, and questioning it took several hours.  By the time I was finished, the late was fading, so I determined that we would camp where we were for the night, and travel on in the morning.  During the course of the night, we heard wolves howling in the distance, but they did not approach the hill, no doubt due to the fate of the last of them that did.

When dawn arrived, I decided not to continue to Penrhys Castle, as I had originally planned, but to seek out Lord Gwebli, and learn what it was that troubled him.  From the creature's words, it seemed this man was the most senior noble of the region, and it would be a sound tactic to win his gratitude, in case the quoitine proved to be on his land.  It would be less trouble to have his cooperation in its removal, than to take the substance by force.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 11th Report - Part 3*

In the event, it proved that the Lord Gwebli's problems were with a pack of wargs, which had been attacking the herds and flocks of his people for several months.  He had led an expedition to destroy the creatures, but several had escaped the battle, and his own losses had been heavy.  Three men had died, and only two of his hunting dogs survived, leaving him without the necessary forces to find and slay the last of the beasts.

From the journey to his castle, it was clear that the lord and his people were impoverished, and could offer little reward for undertaking this task, nor resistance should I determine to take the quoitine.  However, it seemed that the man might have information that would assist me in my task, so I agreed to destroy the creatures for him.

This was duly accomplished the next day.  Trackers had located the wargs' lair some days before, and the lord simply lacked the means to destroy them.  I had no such lack, and the four remaining beasts were swiftly destroyed.  They had not all been mere wargs - at least one was a larger beast, with pure white fur and the ability to breathe a blast of frost and cold - but a combination of fire and strength of arms was more than sufficient for the task.

Once the beasts were destroyed, the villagers burnt the corpses - an action which seemed to distress Gnorric, and was therefore probably a wise thing to do - and the lord gave a feast in honour of the victory.  During the festivities, we agreed that in the morning, he would provide me with a guide to lead the way to the village by the sea.

The journey took most of the day, ad I arrived in the village near dusk.  It was a poor-looking place, too small even for an inn, and with only the barest of subsistence farming in evidence.  Women were in the fields, spreading seaweed in an effort to enrich the earth.

I located the mayor and bid him tell me of Swain, the man who had previously found the quoitine.  According to the mayor, these events were many years in the past, but what little he could remember was that Swain was an adventurer who fought a monster in the hills.  The man was not able to kill the beast, which had murdered several villagers, but he was able to injure it badly enough that it stopped coming out of its lair.  Every year, Swain would return and try to defeat the beast, but without success.  He did, however, keep the beast from attacking anyone else.  Then one year, Swain went to fight the creature and did not return.

That the man could speak such utter nonsense and yet so obviously believe it would astonish me, had I not experienced the wilful ignorance of the folk of Saltmarsh for so many months.  What warrior would return time and again to face a foe he could not defeat, without ever seeking reinforcement, seemed ludicrous to me.  Knowing as I did that Swain had brought quoitine from these parts for many years, I began to wonder if the 'monster' of which he spoke was simply a fiction, designed to keep the curious away from the source of his wealth, but further questions to the mayor indicated that those few villagers who had tried to explore the area since Swain's apparent death had not returned.  Evidently there was somehting dangerous there, though whether this was a creature, or Swain himself, was yet to be seen.

In the morning, I set out for the hill where the monster was reputed to lair.  The place was windy and exposed, too inhospitable for even the scrabbly farming of these parts.

Atop the hill was an indentation in the ground, which proved to be the mouth of a tunnel, leading down into a cave of sparkling stone.  I instructed Dargrim and Ulfgar to examine it, and both reported it to be like no stone they had ever seen.

As Ulfgar completed his inspection, however, a face appeared in the rock, and then an arm swept out, batting him across the cave with little effort.  The dwarf's armour - he is one of the few of my assistants who properly equips himself for combat - absorbed much of the force of the blow, and he did not seem hurt, though it took a few moments for him to regain his feet.

As he did so, the face disappeared into the stone, reappearing several feet to one side.  From there, it vanished and moved again, emerging in swift succession in over a dozen places.  And then it spoke, telling us that we must leave, or be destroyed.

The Windholme Peninsula has far too many talking rocks.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

You get nuthin' but trouble from talkin' rocks, that is what I've always said.


----------



## arwink

I don't know - the first talking rock was kind of pleasant, as talking rocks go.  Cheerful, willing to offer information, and generally smarter than most of the folks we ended up speaking with around Windholm.  Focused too, really knew what he was doing with his life.  Salt of the earth type 

I mean, sure, there was the need to make a Reflex Save to avoid falling off him every time we woke him up and have a chat, but apart from that...


----------



## Lela

Bah, 'snot natural.  Rocks 're meant to be still.  No mov'en 'round and push'n folks.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Tallarn said:
			
		

> You get nuthin' but trouble from talkin' rocks, that is what I've always said.




Whatever do you mean? If Kull could find a bunch of (much smaller) talking rocks, he could sell them to the fad-crazed masses at 5gp apiece!

-z


----------



## Lela

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Whatever do you mean? If Kull could find a bunch of (much smaller) talking rocks, he could sell them to the fad-crazed masses at 5gp apiece!
> 
> -z




Well, yeah.  But when those blockheads say something un-politically correct you wind up getting sued.  See trouble.


----------



## Talix

Capellan said:
			
		

> The Windholme Peninsula has far too many talking rocks.




Love this quote.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 11th Report - Part 4*

I told the creature - some kind of elemental - that I had come in search of quoitine.  It became agitated, saying that I could not have any, and must leave.  I challenged it to explain why it had allowed Swain to depart with quoitine, but not me, and it grew more angry, cursing Swain as a cheat and a liar.

When it had calmed enough to speak intelligibly once more, I learned that Swain had promised it freedom, in exchange for quoitine, but had never delivered on his promise.  It seemed the beast wanted nothing more than to be returned to its home plane, a boon for which it would gladly give every ounce of quoitine.

I therefore invoked Our Lord's Will, and dismissed it from this plane.

With this accomplished, I returned to the village by the sea and warned them that the creature - a giant beast made of boulders - was still present, and that I would return on the morrow to destroy it.  This, I calculated, would prevent anyone from disturbing the site in my absence. I then travelled back toward Cillau, to acquire a wagon with which to transport the quoitine.

En route, I passed Penrhys Castle.  It appeared half ruinous, and I took a few moments to investigate.  It swiftly proved that nothing lived within the ruins: the Lady of the keep had fallen into an undead state (and was swiftly destroyed), while there were only a few scattered bones left to mark the passing of the rest of the house.

More important than this, however, was the discovery of another of the strange orbs, in the cellar of the keep.  Unlike the others, this one had not been activated - the agent sent to do so had fallen on a loose step, breaking his neck at the foot of the stairs.  This augurs well for my plans to reverse the magic that cast down the land, for it means that the ritual is not wholly complete, and may thus be more easily undone.

With all this done, and the wagon acquired, I returned to the Village by the Sea and collected all the quoitine on hand.  There were close to two tons of it: almost more than the wagon could bear, and sure to be more than sufficient for the wizard Gamist's purposes.

The return to Mellin took far longer than the journey down, for even with four large oxen to draw the wagon, the pace was slow.  After two weeks on the road, however, I reached the town.  The disasters of the previous months had led me to wonder if the defenders would still be holding by the time of my return, but it emerged that substantial reinforcements had come from the Duke of Durham, who rules to the south, and a new defence line had been formed.

Having delivered the quoitine to Gamist, I made preparations to return to Saltmarsh, and prepare the defences.  When the passes close, the goblinoids will lose their supplies, and are likely to begin pillaging the lands.  A small settlement like Saltmarsh would seem an easy target to them, and it was my intention that they would receive an unpleasant surprise.

With the roads in the hands of enemy troops, however, the overland route to Saltmarsh would be slow and dangerous.  I therefore turned south, travelling along good roads to Durham, where I chartered a vessel to take me to Saltmarsh.

As I noted at the beginning of this report, upon my return I found that the militia had already fought one engagement, though it was only against limited numbers.  I ordered the defences be reinforced, and increased the frequency of training for the troops, in preparation for any further attack.

It is now a  week since my return, and a message has just arrived from Gamist: the passes have been sealed.  With this act, the tide of the war has turned: but it will also bring a tide of foes down upon us.

Hextor rewards the strong.  Saltmarsh shall be strong.  I will accept nothing else.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

More pieces of the puzzle come together.  Alas poor Gnorric is mentioned not.

GW


----------



## Lela

> Hextor rewards the strong. Saltmarsh shall be strong. I will accept nothing else.
> 
> 
> In Hextor's Name,
> 
> Kull Redfist




Is it odd that I found that inspiring?  I'm sure I wouldn't question it were we talking about Pelor or Heironious but something tells me that Hextor shouldn't be inspiring me. . .


----------



## Dungannon

Kull Redfist said:
			
		

> With this accomplished, I returned to the village by the sea and warned them that the creature - a giant beast made of boulders - was still present, and that I would return on the morrow to destroy it. This, I calculated, would prevent anyone from disturbing the site in my absence. I then travelled back toward Cillau, to acquire a wagon with which to transport the quoitine.



I find it interesting that a Lawful Neutral priest finds it so easy to use lies & deception to accomplish his goals.


----------



## Capellan

Responses all round 



> More pieces of the puzzle come together. Alas poor Gnorric is mentioned not.




If Gnorric wants to be mentioned, he should hurry up and post his own version of events.  Kull's accounts have a tendency to gloss over the contributions of others   

The puzzle is definitely coming together, and the showdown with the creature that created the marsh cannot be far off.

Of course, after the session recounted above, the DM said "There's two sessions left."  After the _next_ session, the DM said, "There's two sessions left.  Maybe three." ... so perhaps the conclusion is going to take a little longer than everyone expected 



> Is it odd that I found that inspiring? I'm sure I wouldn't question it were we talking about Pelor or Heironious but something tells me that Hextor shouldn't be inspiring me. . .




It must be the nine ranks of Diplomacy 



> I find it interesting that a Lawful Neutral priest finds it so easy to use lies & deception to accomplish his goals.




This was a big things / small things call.  Big thing: saving the day from the invading goblinoids.  Small thing: deceiving a few peasants.

Plus, lying seemed better than having to kill them, if they pinched any of the stuff.  After going to the trouble of not killing the guardian of the quoitine, massacring the village would have been a little disappointing


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Capellan said:
			
		

> After going to the trouble of not killing the guardian of the quoitine, massacring the village would have been a little disappointing




"A little dissapointing."

Well, yes, among other things.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Capellan said:
			
		

> Responses all round
> 
> If Gnorric wants to be mentioned, he should hurry up and post his own version of events.  Kull's accounts have a tendency to gloss over the contributions of others




That is one of the things I like best about this story hour.  Much different stories, when both are here to compare.

GW


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 12th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
New Year

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Communication from Kull Redfist


General,


Despite recent events, I remain a loyal servant of Our Lord, and submit to you this account of my actions, in the hope that it might be judged under the only terms that matter: the success and advancement of Hextor's cause.

Three weeks ago, in the aftermath of a skirmish with orc and goblin raiders, I was contacted by the Duke of Durham, who advised that the Baron of Mellin had fallen in battle against the goblinoids, and sought a meeting to discuss the future of the dead lord's realm.  Upon his arrival, the Duke made his proposal: in return for my support for him to annex Mellin, he would confer upon me the title of Marquis of Saltmarsh.

This proposal had several points of merit.  First, sufficient goblinoid forces remain that Mellin will require strong and unified leadership in the months to come.  This, a single overlord could provide, far better than the dozens of lesser nobles who remained within Mellin.  Second, and more importantly, my ascent to the position would give Our Lord's faith an even greater position of authority and strength within these lands, which was and remains my principal objective.

However, even as the offer was made, I was conscious of my oaths to the church.  To take the mantle of Marquis and support the Duke would require me to give him my fealty, as his feudal subject.  Thus, I contacted yourself, requesting the Church's advice on whether I should accept: a question to which your answer was a most unequivocal 'yes', with the added advice that an administrator would be sent.

As directed, I agreed to the Duke's proposal, and awaited the arrival of the administrator.  As soon as he alighted upon the dock, however, it became apparent that he had no understanding of the situation here, nor of the best interests of Our Lord.  I therefore had no choice but to strike him down, for fear that his mistakes would destroy the progress I have wrought.

In the twelve months I have spent in this region, the prestige of Our Lord and the support He enjoys has steadily increased.  The security and strength offered by Hextor's power and discipline has won converts and willing support.  As I am sure a man of your experience would know, the best and fiercest soldiers are those who believe in their cause: a strong and willing man is worth a dozen slaves, whether it be in battle or in the fields.

The administrator you sent announced - in the hearing of all - that every man, woman and child of Saltmarsh would be enslaved.  He proposed, at a stroke, to reduce Our Lord's power in these lands to less than a tenth of what it is today, and to undo all I have wrought.  For that transgression against the interests of Hextor, he was destroyed.

I understand that the Church elders, far from this place, have seen my actions in a different light, and believe I seek only my own power and prestige.  For this, they have ordered my excommunication.  I appeal to you now, as a soldier and general, to consider my actions with cold reason.  If I sought power for myself, why would I tell the Church of the Duke's offer, before I had accepted?  Why, having done so, would I strike down your representative?  Neither the people of Saltmarsh nor my own strength could hope to prevail against the full might of the Church, should you desire to destroy me.  To oppose the will of the Elders is not an act that seeks power, but one that risks destruction.

As a token of my loyalty, I disclose to you my plans for the coming weeks.  I shall travel to the ruins of the ancient fortress known as the Beacon, where I believe I will find the final elements of the curse that has transformed this land into a swamp.  From there, it is my intention to seek an end to the curse, and restore the land to its previous state.

In the long term, this transformation will secure the strength and vigour of the region, which is now known as the Birch Coast.  In the short term, however, it will earn the enmity of the Duke of Durham, who I am sure believed he had granted to me only a land of poverty and ruin.  He may seek to take the land by force.  I will stand against any such attempt, but without the support of the Church and its strength, I am unlikely to prevail.

I trust you will consider my words, and my record as a servant of Our Lord, and consult the augurs as to Hextor's favour.  My faith tells me that I still march in His army: I pray you will not deny me my place in His church.

The fate of Our Lord's worship in this land rests with your decision.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Defiant of his own Church, in a know's what's best kind of way.  Awesome character.


----------



## Lela

Very much so.

So, to clerify, you walked up and smote him down after his announcment?  I bet there was cheering!


----------



## Capellan

Defiant, yeah, but also genuinely eager to mend the rift with the Church.  While Kull believes he did the best thing for Hextor at that point in time, he has no desire to create a religious schism: that would be detrimental for Hextor, and must therefore be avoided.

As for the exact order of events, I walked up to him, _then_ he made his announcement, _then_ I smote him.  After that, everyone else piled onto him, and by the time it came around to my initiative in the first round (I rolled a '2' ... ) it only took one more hit to kill him.  Kull omitted mentioning the contribution of the others because he sees the choice to fight as his own, and wants to take full responsibility in the eyes of the Church, whatever their decision may be.

That one post above pretty much covers the entire last session, but I do plan to do another update about it.  That is, of course, assuming you want to know what happened in the 'skirmish' with the Orc and Goblin raiders 

In the mean time, I've done a map showing the extent of the lands granted to Kull, Ulfgar and Gnorric under the agreement with the Duke of Durham.

EDIT: as of October '04, this link doesn't work any more.  I'll try and find somewhere else to link the file, when I get home, around Xmas.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Holy smokes! That's the most eventful letter yet! Good show, and good roleplaying. I bet the DM was agog.



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> In the mean time, I've done a map showing the extent of the lands granted to Kull, Ulfgar and Gnorric under the agreement with the Duke of Durham.




Well golly, but that's a whole lotta land. So, er, with three grantees, who exactly wears the mantle of Marquis? 

-z


----------



## Capellan

Actually, I think the only thing we did in the session that surprised the DM, was that I told the Church about the Duke's offer before accepting it.

As for the title, essentially all three PCs are of Marquis rank: the 'Birch Coast' is an alliance of their lands.

Kull is Marquis of Saltmarsh, and controls everything from that town, southwards.

Gnorric is Burgomeister of Torlynn, and controls the northern areas, around that village.

Ulfgar is the Marquis of Owlbear's Rest, a small settlement that has grown around the site of an inn he is building (the inn is located where we killed the Owlbear, several sessions ago).  He basically controls the lands between Torlynn and Saltmarsh.

A couple of things that Kull didn't go into in his letter:

- workers have been sent to the lizardfolk settlement, to help them irrigate their land (since raising the land out of the marsh will actually make things a bit dry for them)

- the administrator brought a small force with him (about 30 priests, warriors, scribes and inquisitors, in all).  After a couple of confrontations, they've acknowledged that Kull still bears Hextor's favour, and are currently following his orders.


----------



## Lela

> - the administrator brought a small force with him (about 30 priests, warriors, scribes and inquisitors, in all). After a couple of confrontations, they've acknowledged that Kull still bears Hextor's favour, and are currently following his orders.




Nice one pumba!


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Dudes! Result! Fantastic going.

Didn't I say Emperor Kull Redfist, someday? Didn't I? Didn't I?


----------



## arwink

Capellan said:
			
		

> Ulfgar is the Marquis of Owlbear's Rest, a small settlement that has grown around the site of an inn he is building (the inn is located where we killed the Owlbear, several sessions ago).  He basically controls the lands between Torlynn and Saltmarsh.




According to my sheet, my official title was Marquis of the Roads.  Owlbear's Rest just became mine because it was a refugee shanty-town set up on the site we were planning on building a way-house.


----------



## Capellan

Th rogue's gallery has been updated.


----------



## Capellan

Psst .... if you don't play in *Company of the Random Encounter*, head over here and give me your dastardly ideas


----------



## Capellan

*The Battle of Saltmarsh Turnpike*
_As recounted by Dargrim Ironshield, on the 20th anniversary of the battle_
  - excerpted from "Rise of the Redfist", by Dahvius Molveme, High Scribe of the Birch Coast


(Author's Note: I have attempted to retain, as far as my notes allow, the vernacular employed by Lord Ironshield.  To the best of my ability, this is the story as he himself recounted it.)


"The 'battle' - in my opinion you people make too much o' killing a few damn greenskins - began when the alarm horn blew, out by the turnpike.  Redfist had put two men out there to warn of any approaching force.  Well, they did their job, much good it did 'em - they were dead by the time we got there, of course.

As soon as the horn sounded, Redfist gathered a small force o' the militia, and led it up the road toward the turnpike.  At the time, I didn't see why he'd bothered with the levies: they wouldn't be worth a damn in the fight, one way or the other, and he had to know that as well as I did.

The thing about Redfist, though, was that he was sneakier than he let on.  I'm sure he woulda called it 'strategy', but it comes t' the same thing.

See, like I said, he knew they wouldn't be any use in the fight.  That's _why_ he brought 'em.  He wanted witnesses, y'see.  He wanted 'em to stand there, neat and orderly, and watch as we ripped those greenskin bastards t' pieces.  And then he wanted 'em to go home and tell folks what they saw.

That's exactly what happened, too.  And let me tell yer, after that, when Redfist said 'jump, no-one asked 'how high?'.  They just jumped for all they were worth and hoped like hell it were good enough for him.

Told yer he was sneaky.  O' course, he also just just liked havin' folks see how tough he was.

But enough o' that.  Yer wanted t' know about the battle.

Soon as we reached the turnpike, Redfist used those flyin' boots o' his and went up to see what was goin' on.  He came down pretty fast, and started snappin' orders for the men to fall out: seems there was more'n a few greenies on the way.

He got the levies in lines across the road, as a 'cordon', so he said, then he pushed the five of us - him, me, Ulfgar, the wizard, and the feeb - out in front, and him and the wizard started layin' on the battle spells.  The greenies were tossin' a few arrows our way by this time, but they didn't hit anythin', far as I recall.

Anyway, Redfist did his thing, and the wizard made us bigger 'n' faster than we normally are, and that was about the time that the first bunch of the enemy started to get close.  Goblin wolfriders, they were: six of 'em, charging down ahead o' the rest.  Damn stupid, but I guess when yer been kickin' seven kinds of hell outta the country for the last six months, yer probably feeling pretty confident.

Beyond those six, we could see a couple o' chariots full o' orcs, plus one of those big siege catapults, and a big mob of greenskins in the middle.

So we gave 'em a welcome.

Redfist started callin' on Hextor f' aid, and conjured up a coupla big black hounds, all covered in fire: now that's my kinda mongrel.  The wizard took a more direct approach, and dropped one o' his fireballs right on the mob in the middle.  I seen a lot o' things in my time, but scores o' orcs being blown limb from limb never gets tired, let me tell yer.

I forget what the feeb did - probably not much o' anythin' - but Ulfgar and me charged right up the middle, aimin' fer the wolfriders out front.  Ulfgar got off the mark a little faster, and reached 'em first, which meant that by the time I got there, there wasn't much left.  He dropped four riders - and their wolves - within a couple of seconds.  Would've got them all, I think, if they'd been close enough to reach.

The gobs scattered - can't say I blamed 'em - and Redfist sent his two hounds off to deal with 'em.  Ulfgar went charging off after one o' the two chariots, while the second one came barrelling down at me.  Redfist and I double-teamed that one: we gutted a boar apiece and then cut down the orcs in the back.  I got this scar on my side in that fight: one of the boars gored me pretty deep, before it went down.

Ulfgar, meanwhile, had wrecked the other chariot, the boars pullin' it, and both the orcs in the back.  For sheer destruction, he was the deadliest man on the field, that day.

I think it was round about now that the feeb tripped over a fence.  Maybe it was later.  All I remember of him that day was that it took him the whole fight to kill a wolf and a goblin; and he had help doin' that.

The thing that definitely _did_ happen then was that the greenskin leaders showed up.  There was a shaman, surrounded by some big bastards in full plate.  And there was a warleader, ridin' on the back of a damn wyvern.  Now, this was before the Beacon, so I don't mind tellin' yer that I thought we were in trouble, when that beast turned up.  Sometimes, yer don't realise just how good you've become.

The wizard tried to fireball the newcomers, but the shaman did somethin' to counter that.  Ulfgar didn't seem to care much, though: he just laid into the big lizard with everythin' he had.

Redfist, on the other hand, has his mind on the spellcaster.  Professional rivalry, I guess.  He charged in, practically over the top of the orc's guards, and hammered him pretty hard.  The bodyguards tried to hammer him back, but that floatin' shield of his turned a lot of the blows aside.

Since Ulfgar seemed to be holdin' his own, I went in to deal with the shaman and his boys, as well.  Got in under his guard and damn near took his arm off, but he'd managed to heal himself a bit before I got there, so he stayed on his feat.  He made the mistake o' tryin' to return the favour, though: used on o' them woundin' spells on me.  Didn't anyone tell 'im Dwarves don't die easy?

Redfist was poundin' the bodyguards into the ground, one at a time, so I was free to introduce the shaman to my axe, again.  Bastard didn't go down, though.  Tough customer, I'll give him that.

That's it - I remember now.  While this were goin' on, one o' Redfist's hounds had killed the gobbo that was givin' the feeb so much trouble, so sissy boy decided to go help Ulfgar.  The gods know someone needed to: the orc and its overgrown lizard were hittin' him pretty hard.

So, in any case, the feeb tried to do his fancy 'flip past 'em and cut 'em from behind' routine.  It works pretty well, if you've got a clue what you're doin'.  So, of course, _that_ all ended with the feeb on the ground, his intestines spillin' out all over the place.  So instead o' one person to save, we had two.

Fortunately, the wizard was a bit more use than his sissy boy pal, and blasted the shaman with those energy missiles o' his.  The orc finally dropped, so I headed over to give Ulfgar a hand.

I'll give that dwarf credit, though - he was a tough customer.  He dropped the wyvern by taking its head clean off, then waited until I came in on the orc's flank to step back and down a potion.  The orc was pretty tough, but by now he was about the only one left standing on his side o' the battle.  Poor bastard didn't even have the satisfaction of getting dropped by one o' us - Redfist's hounds came up and one of them ripped his leg off at the knee.  Nasty way to go, though I'm bettin' he'd done worse.

Ulfgar saved the feeb - he always was a bit soft - and Redfist came over after droppin' the last guard.  Once he'd got everyone patched up, he sent the levies around collectin' heads, so we could spike 'em on the road into town.  Greenskins aren't bright, but make a message clear enough, and the rest'll stay away.

We dragged the whole damn wyvern back to the town.  Redfist wanted to show it off to the locals - remind 'em again how tough we were - and the wizard had plans fer it, too, as it turned out.  Redfist damn near hit the roof when he found out about that  O' course, once he calmed down, he let the wizard keep it.  Realised that havin' a zombie wyvern on your side ain't a bad thing, I'm thinking.

It was a couple of days after that, that the Duke o' Durham turned up.  But that's another story - there's nothin' more to tell of the battle at the turnpike."


----------



## Lela

Hmmmm, methinks I like Kull better.  No offense to the dwarf, of course (I've learned that offending them is a bad thing), but he isn't quite the half-orc.


----------



## Mortepierre

Lela said:
			
		

> Hmmmm, methinks I like Kull better.  No offense to the dwarf, of course (I've learned that offending them is a bad thing), but he isn't quite the half-orc.




Nonsense. Nothing can beat a good dwarven storyteller.. especially when he is armed and ready


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Lela said:
			
		

> Hmmmm, methinks I like Kull better.  No offense to the dwarf, of course (I've learned that offending them is a bad thing), but he isn't quite the half-orc.



 True.  I am, however, rather fond of how he puts this bit:



> See, like I said, he knew they wouldn't be any use in the fight. That's why he brought 'em. He wanted witnesses, y'see. He wanted 'em to stand there, neat and orderly, and watch as we ripped those greenskin bastards t' pieces. And then he wanted 'em to go home and tell folks what they saw.
> 
> That's exactly what happened, too. And let me tell yer, after that, when Redfist said 'jump, no-one asked 'how high?'. They just jumped for all they were worth and hoped like hell it were good enough for him.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

I like the different perspective, but I'm really missing Gnorric's perspective as a couterpoint to the Cleric's.


----------



## Capellan

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> I like the different perspective, but I'm really missing Gnorric's perspective as a couterpoint to the Cleric's.



 And so say all of us!


----------



## Dungannon

_casts Summon Khynal_

Damn, didn't work.  That International Dateline thingy must be messing up my temporal magic again.


----------



## Lela

Do you ever have a problem with sunspots Dungannon?  They always mess me up.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 13th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
First Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,


I am grateful for the forbearance shown by the church elders in dispatching an inquisitor to review the situation in this region.  I believe that, after a full and thorough review, they will be satisfied that I acted in the best interests of Our Lord.  We have the opportunity to establish a new stronghold of our faith, and I would not see this chance foregone.

As a demonstration of my continued loyalty to Our Lord and to the church, I have prepared a full report of recent events.  This will be provided to the inquisitor for their review, and subsequent provision to yourself.

As I purposed in my last communication, I set out to the Beacon some twelve days ago.  With me, I had Dargrim and Ulfgar.  The wizard Gnorric was still in Torlynn, and I judged it more important to act with speed, than to wait his return and the doubtful strength he would add to my force.

En route to the Beacon, I made a call at the stronghold of the lizardfolk, to help cement the ties of alliance between Saltmarsh and their clan.  Their representative warned of 'many hundreds of renegade lizardfolk' to the east, in the area around the Beacon.  They could provide little more information than this, however, saying only that they had lost most of two patrols to the newcomers.

This news only made my errand more urgent, and I set forth again the next day.  Evidence of the Beacon's presence became apparent long before the structure itself came into sight: during darkness, I could see a strange green glow in the distance, lighting an area that must have been many hundreds of feet across.

After several days, my small force reached the environs of the Beacon itself.  I dedicated some hours to watching the structure, but detected no sign of movement during the day.  Once night fell, however, several lights could be seen burning in the windows, in addition to the green glow, which emanated from a point near the summit of the tower.

Taking the landward side of the Beacon as the 'front', it consists of a strong gatehouse at the fore, flanked by a pair of towers.  Four more towers ring the outer wall, which encloses a paved courtyard.  At the centre of the courtyard is the main keep; a powerful stone building, with the only entrance being via a narrow set of stone stairs.  The only windows were arrow slits, situated so as to give a commanding view of the courtyard.

In all, a well designed and constructed fortress.  It had suffered considerable damage over the years, however, and most of the complex seemed deserted: lights glowed only in the main building, and in the gatehouse.  It also did not seem large enough to be the stronghold of 'many hundreds' of troops.  If the renegade lizardfolk were indeed using the Beacon as their base, and if they were indeed as numerous as claimed, then it seemed likely that there would be extensive caverns or dungeons beneath the tower. 

Near midnight, I gave the order to move forward, and we moved around to the rear of the structure, using the cover of some low-lying hills to conceal our approach.  Once at the rear, we went over the wall, and into the courtyard, at a location that was out of sight of the gatehouse, and far from the lit windows of the main building.

When there was no sign of any alarm being raised, I led the way around the base of the wall, until reaching the door of the gatehouse.  My strategy was to overcome the defenders of this outer position, first, rather than assault the main structure while the gatehouse defenders remained at our backs.

Entering the ground floor of the gatehouse, I found that it had been converted into a stable.  One lizardman was there, as well as a scruffy human guard and a couple of warhorses.  I led the attack to destroy these defenders, though they managed to raise enough of an alarm that reinforcements soon began to enter the room from the floors above.

These troops - all human - were ill trained, however, and fell like wheat before the scythe.  Within moments, I had led the advance into the next storey of the gatehouse, where two more guards fell swiftly.

On this floor there were two exits: one that crossed the gate to the tower on the opposite side, and one that continued upwards.  Seeking the maximum advantage from the speed of our assault, and conscious of the possibility that reinforcements might arrive from the main building, I directed Ulfgar to cross the gate, while I continued upwards.  Dargrim would remain where we were, to guard against attack from the rear.

Thus it was that I was alone when I reached the highest chamber of this tower, and met the leader of these brigands.


----------



## Lela

Okay, this is either going to blow up in his face (something tells me he's in the wrong tower) or will be really cool to read.


----------



## Mortepierre

The old *I7 Baltron's Beacon* module? Cool! I am impatient to see how Kull is going to deal with some of the stuff in that old classic of the 1st edition..


----------



## Zaruthustran

Capellan said:
			
		

> Seeking the maximum advantage from the speed of our assault, and conscious of the possibility that reinforcements might arrive from the main building, I directed Ulfgar to cross the gate, while I continued upwards.  Dargrim would remain where we were, to guard against attack from the rear.
> 
> Thus it was that I was alone when I reached the highest chamber of this tower, and met the leader of these brigands.




Ah, the old "divide and conquer" stragegy. Or as Heydricus calls it: "Never split the party"

-z


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 13th Report - Part 2*

The man shared his quarters with a menagerie of beasts, and I concentrated my efforts on these at first, while doing what I could to fend off their master's blows.  Despite his unsanitary quarters - the place was more a nest than a room - he was no mean warrior, and I was soon bleeding from several wounds.

As it had become obvious that there was no response from the main tower, Dargrim climbed the stairs to my side, distracting my enemy long enough that I was able to crush his skull with my flail.  Immediately, I made for Ulfgar's position, my movements guided by the sounds of battle.  By the time I arrived, however, the battle was all but over.  Ulfgar's opponents were of lesser skill than my own, and only two still stood at my arrival.

They soon stood no more, and the gatehouse had fallen.

There still was no sign from the keep that our attack had been noticed - a breach of security that would have seen every man flogged, if they served in Our Lord's army - and I determined that it was safe to conduct search of the gatehouse.  My goal in this was to try and discover some information as to why these men were present at the Beacon: the lizardfolk had not mentioned humans, and the huge army of renegades they had spoken of was still not in evidence.  We had seen only one lizardman.

One of those who fell to Ulfgar was a priest of Our Lord, so perhaps you, your Grace, may know more of their purpose than I.  I have enclosed the man's holy symbol, in case you are able to identify who amongst our order has been lost.

I provide this information freely, as a sign of my continued good faith with the church.  I will say only that, if our order had a purpose at the Beacon, and I had known of it, I would have met with these men in parley, rather than in battle.

Finding nothing that provided any useful information about the identity or purpose of the brigands, I led the way into the main tower, from which there was still no indication of any alarm at our incursion.  Entering the Beacon, I found that the first room I entered was again a stable for mounts.  After killing the three beasts within, I pressed on in search of their masters.

I believe I found them on the next level: three humans, just as there had been three mounts.  I say humans, though for at least one - the female - that may not be entirely accurate.

To begin again: entering the next level, I encountered a guard, who sought to block the doorway against us.  I shouldered the man aside, and he was swiftly dispatched.  The hallway he had been guarding had two doors at its far end.  One of these now opened: I caught a glimpse of a woman, and heard her shout of surprise, and then the door slammed again.

A few blows sufficed to shatter the door, revealing the room beyond.  Within were the woman I had glimpsed before, a bearded man in fine clothes, and a bat.

None of the occupants were entirely what they appeared, however.  The man was a wizard; the woman displayed signs of being a were-creature, and the 'bat' proved in truth to be a quasit.  It was likely the wizard's familiar.  Given time to prepare, it is my belief they might well have overcome my group.  Their own lack of discipline and watchfulness was their downfall: we were upon them before they could properly react, and there was nowhere for them to retreat.  In the close press of melee, there could be only one outcome, and they were soon all laid low.

Searching the rest of the level, I discovered a room where the floor was set with a circle of magical symbols, at the centre of which was a keyhole.  I also found a key that looked like it might fit this hole, but as I am yet to determine the significance of the magical symbols, I have not yet tried it.  At the date of penning this report, I am in fact awaiting Gnorric's arrival at the Beacon.  Whatever his other faults, his knowledge of arcane matters is very extensive, and he may be able to offer some insight into this artefact, which I believe to be the next step forward in my search.  Even after searching the rest of the tower, from roof to cellar, I can find no sign of the renegade lizardfolk.  Either the lizardman we spoke to was incorrect, or the circle is a gateway of some kind.

While awaiting Gnorric's arrival, I have conducted an examination of the wizard's library, and found a work on an organisation known as the 'Cult of the Black Scale'.  This was a group of dragon-worshippers that plagued this region many years ago.  Given the name of the cult, and the fact that they often make their habitat in swamps, I believe that the creature which masterminded the collapse of this region into marshland is likely to be a Black Dragon.

With this in mind it is my intention to conduct an investigation into the abilities and weaknesses of such creatures.  Once these are known, I will set myself to finding this creature and ending its life.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Excellent update.  This perspective continues to make this a fun read.


----------



## Lela

Once you start killing worshipers of Hextor you just can't stop, eh Kull?  It's like a drug.  Soon you'll need higher and higher priests to satisfy your urges.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Lela said:
			
		

> Once you start killing worshipers of Hextor you just can't stop, eh Kull?  It's like a drug.  Soon you'll need higher and higher priests to satisfy your urges.





Good point! Out of all the clerics that Kull has killed, what percentage have been clerics of Hextor?

-z


----------



## Lela

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Good point! Out of all the clerics that Kull has killed, what percentage have been clerics of Hextor?
> 
> -z



Yeah Cap, go back through each and every kill Kull has ever made, figure out how many were Clerics, how many were Clerics of Hextor, and then devide.

We expect the answer within 24 hours.


----------



## arwink

Capellan said:
			
		

> Entering the Beacon, I found that the first room I entered was again a stable for mounts.  After killing the three beasts within, I pressed on in search of their masters.




Kull - master of understatement.

Consider for a moment what kind of thing you stable *on top* of your tower 

As for the cleric question, I think the hextorite may actually be a fairly hefty percentage of the cleric kills.  We tend to fight a lot of things that look like clerics but aren't (the rakasha), and a lot of shamans that could be either clerics or adepts (back in the mines before everyone but Kull died, or in the recent big battle - it's hard to say with orcs and goblins).  Of the actual, honest to god clerics that I can recall, the hextorites make up somewhere within the region of 50%.


----------



## Capellan

arwink said:
			
		

> Kull - master of understatement.
> 
> Consider for a moment what kind of thing you stable *on top* of your tower




He did rather 'forget' to mention the fact that he entered the Beacon through the roof, didn't he? 

As arwink said, we haven't fought a lot of clerics (the U series only has them in the sahuagin module, and Kull never met any of those).  The goblins had one at the mine, I think, and orc 'shaman' at the battle was a cleric, too.  The newts may have had one - I'm not sure what the DM did in terms of conversions for that game.  I don't remember any others.

Kull's only ever killed one cleric of Hextor - he wasn't even in the room when Ulfgar killed this one - so I guess his personal record is 1 in 3 

For the record, in the course of this last post, Kull glosses over (or completely omits to mention) the killing of the following enemies.

In the Gatehouse:
- a 9th level ranger
- an hieracosphinx
- a warg and a hawk
- 4 bugbears
- 2 fighters, an illusionist and a rogue (all 3rd level approx)
(plus the 2 warhorses, 10 warriors and 1 lizardman from last post)


In the main Beacon:
- 3 wyverns (in two rounds)
- a 7th level fighter
- a 9th level wizard
- whatever the weretiger was
- a quasit
- a mimic
- two carrion crawlers (in one round)
- a will o' wisp
- three mist monsters of some sort
- three trolls (including one that had the temerity to hit Kull and suffered 80 points of melee damage in retaliation  )

There may have been others, but that's everything I remember


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Capellan said:
			
		

> For the record, in the course of this last post, Kull glosses over (or completely omits to mention) the killing of the following enemies.
> 
> In the Gatehouse:
> - a 9th level ranger
> - an hieracosphinx
> - a warg and a hawk
> - 4 bugbears
> - 2 fighters, an illusionist and a rogue (all 3rd level approx)
> (plus the 2 warhorses, 10 warriors and 1 lizardman from last post)
> 
> 
> In the main Beacon:
> - 3 wyverns (in two rounds)
> - a 7th level fighter
> - a 9th level wizard
> - whatever the weretiger was
> - a quasit
> - a mimic
> - two carrion crawlers (in one round)
> - a will o' wisp
> - three mist monsters of some sort
> - three trolls (including one that had the temerity to hit Kull and suffered 80 points of melee damage in retaliation  )
> 
> There may have been others, but that's everything I remember




We need Gnoric to tell us of these other kills, at least in passing, as he comes to examine the magic runes.  All the bodies laying about, and the possibilities for constructs or vital fluid extractions for his experiments.   You may have to take off the aka Gnorrics Journal to quit teasing us every time we get an E-mail saying there is an update.  Thanks for the extra comments, I'd assumed there was the background stuff left out of his letters, but didn't imagine the scale of omissions.


----------



## arwink

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> We need Gnoric to tell us of these other kills, at least in passing, as he comes to examine the magic runes.  All the bodies laying about, and the possibilities for constructs or vital fluid extractions for his experiments.   You may have to take off the aka Gnorrics Journal to quit teasing us every time we get an E-mail saying there is an update.  Thanks for the extra comments, I'd assumed there was the background stuff left out of his letters, but didn't imagine the scale of omissions.




We wouldn't be getting a Gnorric update on this bit regardless - his player was moving house around this point, so he missed a bunch of games from various campaigns.

Hence I thought I'd subtly mention the omissions


----------



## Capellan

He could still see the bodies.  In fact, I rather expect he will.  Kull remembered to burn the wyverns, so they couldn't be animated like the last one, but he only burned the Trolls enough to kill them.

Troll Skeletons, anyone? 


As I'm currently out of material to post (I'm all up to date!  Pity about my other SHs ...) I'll probably do some updates over the next couple of weeks that provide some 'game' insight to all that carnage.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

arwink said:
			
		

> We wouldn't be getting a Gnorric update on this bit regardless - his player was moving house around this point, so he missed a bunch of games from various campaigns.
> 
> Hence I thought I'd subtly mention the omissions




And It's much appreciated and entertaining.  It adds a new dimension to what is actually happening.  Please don't take my comments as anything other than interested and anticipatory.  I very much enjoy the posts as they come, and understand the limitations set by RL.

I hope the move went well, it can be H, E, double Hockey Sticks at times.


----------



## Zaruthustran

Capellan said:
			
		

> As I'm currently out of material to post (I'm all up to date!  Pity about my other SHs ...) I'll probably do some updates over the next couple of weeks that provide some 'game' insight to all that carnage.




Good stuff! Say, could you post how Kull managed to do 80 points of damage in one round?

-z, Kull Fan


----------



## Capellan

Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> could you post how Kull managed to do 80 points of damage in one round?




Short answer: 3.5 power attack 

Longer answer: it's the start of the 4th round of the fight.  Two trolls are dead, and the last was almost downed last round (regen was the only thing that kept it upright).

We're all in range of the last troll, but Dargrim and Ulfgar are Dwarves, so get +4 AC vs giants.  This makes Kull's AC (26) the easiest in the party for it to hit.  It full attacks, and manages to connect - and then crit - with one of its claws.  Kull takes 20 points of damage (the first we've suffered in the fight - Trolls have trouble hitting AC 30 and AC 28 targets  ).

I'm up next.  I know the thing's low on HP, but Kull's ticked off about getting hit.

"Five foot step.  Full attack, five points of power attack."

*clatter*

Both attacks connect.

Kull's base damage is 1d10+12.  +10 for power attack (2 handed weapon).  +1d6 cold.  +2d6 axiomatic damage (trolls are chaotic).

_Twice_.


----------



## Lela

Ouch.

3.5 Power Attack works different with two hands?  Interesting. . .


----------



## Capellan

So, other than an update from Mantreus (which is unlikely, as he has been kept too busy to even _game_, let alone write story hours) are there any aspects of the campaign people want to hear about?

Questions, queries, comments - now is the time to get the unvarnished truth, rather than Kull's somewhat selective version of events


----------



## Lela

Current Kull stats?  Has Mettle come in handy?


----------



## Capellan

Kull's current stats are in the Rogue's Gallery.  The DM hasn't given us XP for last session, yet.  Mettle, as far as I can recall, has been of use only once so far.  There aren't that many Fort and Will partial saves, after all.


----------



## Lela

I've always wanted to combine a Dwarven Paladin, Mettle, and a Ring of Evasion. Boya.

(Broken)

Mettle works really well against Psionic guys.


----------



## Mortepierre

Capellan,

Are you planning to "upgrade" Kull to v3.5 by using the Pious Templar PrC from Complete Divine?


----------



## Capellan

With only 1-2 sessions left until the campaign takes a break, there are no immediate plans for changes.  When (or if - though I will be trying to make sure it is when) the campaign returns, I'll probably rebuild him.  At that stage, Pious Templar will be one of the possible options I'll consider.

Having glanced at the class on the WotC site, I think it addresses some of the front-loading issues with the 3e Templar class, but still suffers from a lack of incentive to pursue it all the way to 10th level.


----------



## Lela

Link anyone?  Link?  Link for the poor?


----------



## Mortepierre

Lela said:
			
		

> Link anyone?  Link?  Link for the poor?




Here it comes ..

Click me!


----------



## Lela

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Here it comes ..
> 
> Click me!



 *Wonk*

Ouch, I'd better put some ice on that.  *Rubs head*

Thanks though.


----------



## Capellan

We played yesterday, and now seems like a perfect time for the first, inaugural

*In Hextor's Name Pop Quiz*

A chance to prove your 'gaming geek'-itude 

Yesterday, Kull had to make a DC 25 REF save or die.  He failed (not surprising, given his REF save is only +3), and was killed - except that then we realised there was a 7% chance he should have survived.  We rolled the dice, and got an '04'.

The question: what 'killed' Kull, and why was there a 7% chance of surviving it, after all?

First correct answer gets an update.  

Edit: oh, and guess what?  After yesterday, there are still 2 sessions left of the campaign.  Just like there have been for the last 3 sessions


----------



## Dungannon

Capellan said:
			
		

> The question: what 'killed' Kull, and why was there a 7% chance of surviving it, after all?



A Rat Bastard DM with a small change of heart?


----------



## Mortepierre

There aren't that many spells with an "insta-death" result out there (assuming you limit yourself to the 3 Core books), nor so many creatures able to use them. The key to the problem is the DC 25. That's a pretty big DC to pull off.

Both a Balor and a Pit Fiend can cast a DC 25 Blasphemy but given the fact that Kull has - by now - at least 9 HD, that means you would need a lvl 19+ caster to kill him. So, only the Balor qualifies. However, even if I didn't think a Balor would be too much for Kull to swallow, one has to remember Blasphemy doesn't authorize a save vs its "kill" result.

Same problem with all the Death spells available to "common" casters. It has to be a spell that allows a save .. which few do.

Destruction or Finger of Death would do the trick, assuming a caster with a good enough primary stat (we're still talking Int/Wis/Cha 26+ here!), possibly a bit less if the guy took the various Spell Focus feats...

However, those spells all call for a Fort. save, and the DC 25 was a Refl. save.

That leaves us only with one creep from the MM that requires a Reflex DC: a dragon. And not a young one at that. Various qualify.. but none has an "insta-kill" breath (unless it was using the Maximize Breath feat).

Hmm .. that leaves us only with traps but even the CR10 examples from the DMG rarely require a save DC above 20.

Honestly, I don't see. Of course, there are enough non-Core books out there that I am sure I missed something. And I am not even taking "advanced" monsters in consideration.

You got me curious now...


----------



## Capellan

All the information you need is in the core rulebooks.  In fact, it's all in just _one_ of the core rulebooks.

It wouldn't be fair, otherwise


----------



## Elder-Basilisk

Well, I would have guessed a Talisman of Pure Good. But Kull wasn't evil last time I saw his sheet and the DC is 19 not 25. Back to the drawing board I guess.



			
				Capellan said:
			
		

> We played yesterday, and now seems like a perfect time for the first, inaugural
> 
> *In Hextor's Name Pop Quiz*
> 
> A chance to prove your 'gaming geek'-itude
> 
> Yesterday, Kull had to make a DC 25 REF save or die.  He failed (not surprising, given his REF save is only +3), and was killed - except that then we realised there was a 7% chance he should have survived.  We rolled the dice, and got an '04'.
> 
> The question: what 'killed' Kull, and why was there a 7% chance of surviving it, after all?
> 
> First correct answer gets an update.
> 
> Edit: oh, and guess what?  After yesterday, there are still 2 sessions left of the campaign.  Just like there have been for the last 3 sessions


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

My first guess was a large missile, and then it got hit with an improbability drive and there was a 7% chance it turned into a whale and a potted plant.

But gee gosh darn it, the improbability drive isn't in the "artifacts" section of the DMG.

On a more serious note, I can't think of anything that's REFLEX save or die, and the whole "7%" thing only confuses issues.  Earthquake on open ground has a 25% chance of forcing a DC 20 reflex save to avoid falling into a fissure that will close next round, killing those trapped within.  That's as close as I can think.


----------



## Lela

If it helps any, the 7% sounds like Kull's caster level (he went Templar, so it's lower than his level).  In which case, that part's likely due to a spell.  Which, in turn, indicates our answer is in the PHB.


----------



## Mortepierre

Lela said:
			
		

> If it helps any, the 7% sounds like Kull's caster level (he went Templar, so it's lower than his level).  In which case, that part's likely due to a spell.  Which, in turn, indicates our answer is in the PHB.




Last time I checked, Kull was Cleric 8/Templar 1, so shouldn't it be 8% by your reasoning?


----------



## skullsmurfer

kULL is the man.  i am very impressed by this story hour, i have never thought of playing an evil cleric, now i think that a templar or dark paladin might grace my table next game. thanks i look forward to the next installment


----------



## Lela

Mortepierre said:
			
		

> Last time I checked, Kull was Cleric 8/Templar 1, so shouldn't it be 8% by your reasoning?




Yes, it would be then.  In any case, I searched through the spells in the 3.5 SRD for the word "Death" and didn't find a Reflex Save anywhere.  At this point I'm thinking Monster Manual.  Either way, what about Negitive Energy?  A kind of blast from that might allow a Reflex save.


----------



## Wish

If I had to guess, I'd say it was prismatic spray, sent to a random plane effect.  That could hit a DC that high, it's reflex, and depending on your cosmology there would be about a 7% chance of ending up back on your own home plane.  For somebody who can't yet plane shift, the other results are effectively death.


----------



## Lela

Wish said:
			
		

> If I had to guess, I'd say it was prismatic spray, sent to a random plane effect.  That could hit a DC that high, it's reflex, and depending on your cosmology there would be about a 7% chance of ending up back on your own home plane.  For somebody who can't yet plane shift, the other results are effectively death.



 That's the Violet Ray.  Will Negates.  (PHB p. 264)


----------



## Wish

Curses, foiled again.  That's what I get for posting without my books in front of me.  Thanks Lela.  I'll totter off now to think up some other solution to this problem.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

I can't think of anything that's Reflex save or die. Of course, it could simply be that he was low on hp and the Reflex save was for an evocation...but then why the 7% survival chance?

Glad to have got updated with the SH though! And vastly amused by Kull's 'omisions' from the Death Count.


----------



## Lazybones

Just got caught up on six months worth of story hour.  Great updates; I enjoyed the clashes with the church hierarchy and thought the dwarf's description of the battle was priceless. It will be interesting to see what happens if and when the Church decides that Kull has gotten too powerful to be controlled.


----------



## Capellan

Maybe the answer is too obscure?  A challenge too great to overcome?  Goodness knows, I never guessed.  Can't you think what the answer might be?  I thought you'd have it by now.  That's proved to be wrong!  Eventually you'll get it, though.  Maybe the answer is in the somewhere in the System reference document.  Virtually all answers are.  I hope this message has helped.


----------



## Lela

Scarab of Death. DMG p. 275



			
				SRD said:
			
		

> *Scarab of Death: *This small pin appears to be any one of the various beneficial amulets, brooches, or scarabs. However, if it is held for more than 1 round or carried by a living creature for 1 minute, it changes into a horrible burrowing beetlelike creature. The thing tears through any leather or cloth, burrows into flesh, and reaches the victim’s heart in 1 round, causing death. A *DC 25 Reflex* save allows the wearer to tear the scarab away before it burrows out of sight, but he still takes 3d6 points of damage. The beetle then returns to its scarab form. Placing the scarab in a container of wood, ceramic, bone, ivory, or metal prevents the monster from coming to life and allows for long-term storage of the item.
> 
> Strong abjuration; CL 19th; Create Wondrous Item, _slay living; _Price 80,000 gp.



The only thing I can't figure out is the 7% chance of surviving. Part of the curse? Somekind of ward against death affects or _Slay Living_ specifically? The person who threw it at him may have held on too long?

I do know it's somewhere in the DMG though. Any ideas?

Oh, and yes, the post was very helpful.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Well spotted!


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Scarab of Death. DMG p. 275
> 
> The only thing I can't figure out is the 7% chance of surviving. Part of the curse? Somekind of ward against death affects or _Slay Living_ specifically? The person who threw it at him may have held on too long?
> 
> I do know it's somewhere in the DMG though. Any ideas?




In finding the first answer, you draw close to the second ...

But even if you can't get it, I think you all deserve an update this weekend, in any case


----------



## Barastrondo

Capellan said:
			
		

> In finding the first answer, you draw close to the second ...




You are a cunning bastard, Capellan, and your clues are wonderful. Maybe, then: 

An identify spell only has a 1% chance per caster level to reveal a cursed item’s true properties, including the cursed aspect. 

Yes?


----------



## Capellan

Barastrondo is correct.  Identify has a 1% chance per level to reveal the true properties of a cursed item.  Gnorric (puny, never turns up to the adventure weakling that he is) is a 7th level Wizard.

Oh, and you know how I said there were still two sessions left of the campaign?  Well, it's actually *three* ... I'd forgotten that we found a whole bunch of new folks to kill, last game.


----------



## Lela

Hay!  Where's that in the DMG? Grrr.

At least I was right about it being a Caster Level thing.


----------



## Capellan

Lela said:
			
		

> Hay!  Where's that in the DMG? Grrr.




*SPECIFIC CURSED ITEMS*
Specific Cursed Items are provided as examples of cursed items. They are given creation prerequisites, should someone want to intentionally create them (although that does not need to be the origin of the item). Note, however, two exceptions: The _crystal hypnosis ball_ and the _bag of devouring_ cannot be created by any known means.
A simple _detect magic_ spell yields a misleading aura and strength, often indicating that the item is a noncursed item of similar sort. An _identify_ spell only has a 1% chance per caster level to reveal a cursed item’s true properties, including the cursed aspect. _Analyze dweomer_ reveals the true nature of a cursed item.

That's the SRD text, from "magicitemsvi.rtf" ... I don't have my DMG in front of me, but it should be somewhere around page 274.


----------



## Lela

Ah, dangit, that counts.  I meant the _Identify_ spell specifically.

Either way, we solved your little riddle (admittedly, with clues).  Now ON WITH THE UPDATES!


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 14th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Second Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,


As Captain-Prelate Bannerburn is about to return to your headquarters, I have decided to take the opportunity to prepare a report of the latest developments, for him to carry when he departs.

First, I must acknowledge the excellent work done by the Captain-Prelate in resolving the recent misunderstandings.  I have no doubt that, with this matter behind us, we will all be able to work for the further power and glory of Our Lord Hextor.

After completing my previous report, I had intended to wait at the Beacon until Gnorric's arrival from Torlynn.  However, when I contacted him after three days to learn his progress, I discovered that he had not even yet begun the journey.  As I wished to ensure that I returned to Saltmarsh in time to meet your emissary, I decided to continue the exploration of the Beacon without waiting any further for the wizard.

My initial activities were conducted largely within the library, examining the books there for any indications of the purpose of the strange magic circle I had found in my previous exploration.  Unfortunately, although the tomes covered many kinds of arcane lore, there was no information of immediate use.

However unlike Gnorric I had not been idle in the previous three days, and thus I knew there were still more avenues of exploration within the Beacon.  I had spent several hours searching the building for any concealed rooms that might have been missed, and in the floor of the basement, obscured by dirt, I uncovered an ancient wooden trapdoor.

I thus led the way down through this door and into the chambers below.  This proved to be a jail complex, consisting of a torture chamber, jailer's room, and five cells.  Only one of the cells had any sign of a former occupant: a human skeleton lay sprawled within, clutching a gilt medallion.  An undead apparition formed around this skeleton as we entered, but it could not stand against the Will of Hextor.  I froze it in fear by invoking his name, allowing Dargrim and Ulfgar to readily destroy it,

Upon examination, the medallion proved to be a worthless bauble, possibly placed as the bait in the apparition's trap.  If so, the trap misfired.

Two of the other cells proved to contain secret doors; an odd arrangement, to say the least.  The first of these opened only into a small compartment, leading nowhere, but the second revealed a narrow tunnel, leading a considerable distance underground.  I led the way along this path, and eventually began to hear the sound of guttural voices from ahead.

The echoes of the tunnel made the words themselves too indistinct to be made out, but the tongue sounded like one of the giantish dialects.  I thus invoked the power of Hextor to grant us success in battle, and then we moved on, out of the tunnel and into a large cavern.

At one end of the cave were clustered a number of ogres, their leader arguing with a robed human.  The cause of the disagreement appeared to be a lizardman, whom they had bound to a wooden pole.  The other end of the cave did not appear to be occupied, though it had several tunnel entrance overlooking a small lake.

We struck the ogres with some element of surprise, swiftly felling two, but the enemy reacted swiftly.  The human hurled fire, while most of the ogres charged into melee.  One, however, hung back, blowing on a great metal horn.

The horn was answered by a bellow from the dark tunnels on our flank, and moments later, a white-skinned giant strode forth, clutching a huge double-handed axe.  He was small for a true giant; perhaps ten feet in height, but still a mighty opponent.

Leaving Dargrim and Ulfgar to hold the ogres, I met the giant in single combat.  Turning aside his first two blows, I aimed my own strikes at the axe he bore.  My first blow fell just short of shattering the haft, but I did not make the same mistake twice: the axe broke, leaving him with only his fists against my flail.

He struck at me, leaving an opening in his defence: I smashed two of his ribs, suffering only a minor buffet in return.  Without his axe, he could not hope to defeat me: I could see in his eyes that he knew it as well as I.

And then he bellowed his rage, and the roar was answered once more.

_Another_ giant strode out of the darkness.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Capellan said:
			
		

> Without his axe, he could not hope to defeat me: I could see in his eyes that he knew it as well as I.




Apparently the DM reached this conclusion himself....



> And then he bellowed his rage, and the roar was answered once more.
> 
> _Another_ giant strode out of the darkness.


----------



## Lela

Thomas Hobbes said:
			
		

> Apparently the DM reached this conclusion himself....



 LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


----------



## Zaruthustran

Capellan said:
			
		

> I thus led the way down through this door and into the chambers below.  This proved to be a jail complex, consisting of a torture chamber, jailer's room, and five cells.  Only one of the cells had any sign of a former occupant: a human skeleton lay sprawled within, clutching a gilt medallion.  An undead apparition formed around this skeleton as we entered, but it could not stand against the Will of Hextor.  I froze it in fear by invoking his name, allowing Dargrim and Ulfgar to readily destroy it,
> 
> Upon examination, the medallion proved to be a worthless bauble, possibly placed as the bait in the apparition's trap.  If so, the trap misfired.




Why is it that I suspect that the "bauble" was a keepsake charm from that poor skeleton's sweetheart, and the "undead apparition" was a harmless ghost who pleaded that it be taken to join the resting place of his beloved?

-z


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 14th Report - Part 2*

Fortunately, the mass of brutish ogres already engaged in the battle kept the other giant from easily reaching the fray.  A classic proof that it is not enough merely to have the troops: one must also know how to use them.

Two blows of my flail crushed the knees of my current foe, and a third snuffed out his life.  With a roar, the second giant pushed aside the ogres before him, striking at me with his axe.  Again, there was an answer to the roar, and a _third_ giant emerged from the darkness.

Shouting for Ulfgar and Dargrim to put an end to the ogres and their spellcasting ally, I faced the two giants alone.  Time after time, the heavy steel of my armour turned aside blows that would have crushed my bones.  Time after time, my enemies' lack of protection meant they suffered the fate I had avoided.  But the bones of a giant are thick and strong, and it was long before the first of them fell.

If anything, the fight now became more desperate.  The last giant struck at me with ever greater ferocity, and the buckled, cracked plates of my armour could no longer protect me as well as they had.  Had I been alone, I cannot claim with certainty that I would have triumphed.

But the Church and Our Lord Hextor have provided me with a great ally in Dargrim Ironshield, and he came to my side when the battle was poised on a knife-edge.  We struck down the final giant, even as Ulfgar put an end to the last of the ogres.

With the battle won, I was able to examine the cave.  In addition to the lizardfolk prisoner, the ogres had been in possession of six leathery eggs, each about three feet across, and a brass-bound book engraved with the words "Cult of the Black Flame".  This work identified the eggs as those of a black dragon, due to hatch within days.  No doubt this dragon was the same I intend to find and face.

I destroyed the eggs, for dragons of this species are scions of chaos and anarchy, then turned my attention to questioning the prisoner.  I had in mind that he might be one of the missing members of the tribe near Saltmarsh, but this proved not the case.  The creature was uncooperative, refusing to answer questions regarding its purpose and origin, so I stove in its skull and forced the answers from its corpse.

It seems that the alarm of the Saltmarsh lizardfolk was justified: there is a tribe of renegades to the west of the Beacon, with a force of many hundreds of warriors.  Such a threat to the security of the area cannot be countenanced, and it is my intention to put an end to it, as soon as my investigation of the Beacon itself is complete.

I say 'as soon as', for this task is not yet done.  The purpose of the magic circle is still unknown, and I intend to learn it, even if I must drag Gnorric forcibly from his home in Torlynn, to do so.  Once this is done, I will take any steps needed to render the Beacon safe, before turning my attention to the lizardfolk renegades.  This confrontation will need to be properly planned.  Given the size of the tribe, Saltmarsh does not have the troops to face them in open battle.

Once the lizardfolk are dispensed with, the threat of the dragon must be my principal concern.  It has already tried once to cast this land under the waves, and it is likely that only by slaying it can I reverse the destruction it has already wrought.  When I succeed, these lands will become far more prosperous, and - I trust - a worthy example of what Our Lord's teachings have to offer.

Saltmarsh _will_ be strong.  Hextor's might and glory _will_ be celebrated.  His Church _will_ have the power and respect it is due.  I have made this my task, and I will not fail.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

I _will_ continue to enjoy this story hour!


----------



## Dungannon

Kull Redfist said:
			
		

> The creature was uncooperative, refusing to answer questions regarding its purpose and origin, so I stove in its skull and forced the answers from its corpse.



Always looking for the most practical solution, he is.


----------



## Lela

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Always looking for the most practical solution, he is.




There may not be a better description of Kull than that.


----------



## Capellan

The Rogue's Gallery was just updated with new stats for Kull and Dargrim.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Cyberstreet link!  Bad!  Bad!

http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=37697 is what you want.


----------



## daenku

No. Cyberstreet URL good. It bypasses the big brother network monitor at work & allows me to get to the enworld, bar the front page. Something about not having the word 'forum' in the URL I believe.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 15th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Third Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

With the mystery of the Beacon's magic circle still unresolved, I travelled in person to Torlynn, to ensure that Gnorric this time came as he had been instructed.

I need not have bothered: despite his many claims of arcane knowledge, the wizard could offer no more information about the meaning of the runes, or the purpose of the circle.  With no more knowledge than before, I thus decided to activate the device.

Gnorric, despite his protestations, was made to join us on the dais, and I placed the key in the slot.  Immediately, an arrow of light appeared, pointing to one of the runes on the outer edge of the circle.  Seeing this, and reasoning that the runes might thus have some purpose other than as arcane sigils, I invoked Our Lord Hextor's aid, that he might show me their meaning.

At first, the words displayed seemed to be some kind of foreign tongue; but then I recognised that they were nothing more than childish anagrams, and swiftly deciphered them to read "Mountain", "Shrine", "Swamp", "Island" and "Dungeon".

Moving the arrow to point at "Mountain" seemed to have no effect, but when it was moved to "Shrine", there was a flare of light, and we were instantly transported to a small stone chamber, with a similar dais set into the floor.

Removing the key from thus new circle, I looked around the room, gesturing for the others to remain still.  There were four doors leading from the room; each set into the middle of one wall.  One door had a leering, demonic face upon it.  Between the doors stood four stone statues, one in each corner.

The statues were of an efreet, a sahuagin, a raven and a xorn.  This seemed too neatly a reflection of the four elements for it to be coincidence, but it gave no useful indication of the purpose of the room.  With no better option than to select a door and go through it, I directed Dargrim to examine the one before us.

As soon as he stepped from the dais, however, each of the four statues unleashed a gout of water, which rapidly began to fill the room, and the demonic face in one door became animate, cackling that there was no escape, and we would soon all be drowned.

The architect of this 'trap' should have spent more time on strengthening the doors.

Moving past Dargrim, I struck the door three times with my flail, leaving it a pile of rubble at my feet.  As soon as the door was broken, the flow of water ceased, and vents opened at the base of the statues to drain the fluid away.

Moving on, we came to an area of magical darkness, that resisted our attempts to dispel it.  At last, Gnorric's presence was of use to us, as he sent his pet bat into the darkness to scout out the area.  The wizard swears that he can communicate with the creature.  According to him, it reported that there was a room there, with a deep shaft in the middle, and that the tunnel continued on the other side, where it was light once more.  It noticed no other dangers in the area, so I led the way into the darkness, running one hand along the wall so that we would not stray too close to the shaft.

It proved that there was in fact another threat within the darkened room, for a creature of air coalesced around Ulfgar, and began to drag him toward the hole.  Dargrim and I both stepped carefully away from the room, striking at the area of Ulfgar's voice and trusting that his armour would turn our blows more readily than the creature could endure them.

As we destroyed the elemental, I heard Gnorric recite the incantation for magic missile.  Naturally, lacking a target, the spell failed.  The wizard's foolishness is astonishing: what did he propose to do?  Attack the darkness?

The tunnel beyond the room lead to nothing more than a dead end, so I began to lead the return to the first chamber.  As we reached the dark room, however, it occurred to me that the elemental might have succeeded in dragging previous intruders into the shaft.  At the bottom, therefore, there might be useful information or items for my quest.

I resolved, therefore, to go down into the shaft and learn what lay at the bottom.


----------



## Lela

> As we destroyed the elemental, I heard Gnorric recite the incantation for magic missile. Naturally, lacking a target, the spell failed. The wizard's foolishness is astonishing: what did he propose to do? Attack the darkness?



Ha, HA!!


----------



## Ancalagon

I just read this entire story hour in one siting.

Time well spent, great fun!

I am looking forward to seeing the conclusion of this 

Ancalagon


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Knew you had good taste, Anc. 

May I suggest reading other story hours by the same people? Certainly the Copperheads SH is excellent.


----------



## Ancalagon

I intend to.

I have read the first post, and how could I NOT read this?

A: it's about the church of St-Cuthbert.  My PC in our main campain is a cleric of st-Cuthbert.

B:  Said PC is (well was, his name changed but I won't get into that) named Cedric CROMWELL.  It is a sign I say, a sign!



Ancalagon


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 15th Report - Part 2*

As his familiar had failed to notice the threat of the air elemental, I resolved to give the wizard a chance to redeem himself, and instructed that the beast be sent into the shaft to determine its depth, and what lay at the bottom.  It reported that the shaft descended some sixty feet, before entering into a cavern that was only about a foot high, though wider than it could sense.

This seemed a strange shape for a cavern, and after asking some further questions, I deduced that the 'floor' the creature was sensing was in fact liquid, mostly filling whatever lay below.  Protected by spells of water-breathing and flight, I descended the shaft.  About half way down, the magical darkness came to an end, allowing me to see as I progressed downwards, into the water below.

A search of the flooded cavern revealed nothing of import, except a flight of stairs leading up out of the water.  I decided to explore these while I could, and discovered a small chamber at their summit, with another teleportation dais at the centre.

The chamber was also home to some kind of frog-like demon.  I am no scholar, and I was not able to identify its specific breed.  It must have been one of the lesser varieties, however, as it fell quickly to my flail

With the creature destroyed, I was able to examine the dais.  It had only one rune upon it, of a different design to those in the chamber with the four statues.  I thus returned to the darkened room and instructed the others to follow me below, so that we could travel to the destination of this new dais.

We were transported to a tiny room, with no visible exits, though there was a small peephole in one wall.  Looking through it revealed what appeared to be a temple of some kind, though a statue obscured much of the view.  Obviously if this room was intended to allow observation of the temple, it was in a most illogical place.  Considering this, I realised that the statue had been placed to conceal the room, and that there must therefore be a secret door leading out of the chamber.

This proved true, and we emerged into the temple.  Its design was typical of these foolish cults: an exaggerated statue of the cult leader at the head of the room, dominating a black-stained altar, with a few rows of supplicants' pews before them.  On either side of these were more childishly carved statuary.

As we entered, a magical alarm began to sound, and I swiftly ordered a defensive position on the stairs leading to the altar.  Dargrim, Ulfgar and I formed the front line, while the wizard and his companion stood behind, where they would not get in my way.

Darkness coalesced in the centre of the temple, and from it emerged a vulture-headed demon.  As I wrote above, I am no scholar, but I know enough of the chaos-spawn to recognise the beast as a Vrock.  The demon unleashed a fearsome howl as it emerged.  Behind me, I heard the wizard cry out, but I had little time to spare for him: the doors of the temple burst open and several bandage-swathed undead lurched inside, also answering the peal of the alarm.

As the two dwarves charged forward to strike the Vrock, I channelled the power of Our Lord, sending the undead cowering back in awe of His might.  With these enemies neutralised, the battle was quickly resolved: the demon could not stand alone against my forces, and was despatched.

Leaving the temple revealed that the doors opened onto a tunnel which led back into the room of darkness.  The diseased nature of the cultists' minds can clearly be seen in the absurd architecture of their so-called Shrine.  This was not the kind of structure to be built by sane and ordered minds.

Returning to the original room in which we arrived, I led an exploration of the remaining areas of the complex.  There was little of interest in these chambers, though I did uncover information which suggested that the cult had not been active there for approximately one hundred years.  There was however nothing to suggest why they had abandoned the place.

This done, we returned to the Beacon through the teleportation dais.  The remaining locations we had not yet tried were "Swamp", "Island" and "Dungeon".  The first and last of these led to the front gates of the Beacon, and the gaol beneath it, respectively.  I chose not to activate the rune for the Island.  All the information I have gathered to this date suggests that the wyrm that these fools of cultists follow makes its home on one of the Birch Isles, which lie just south-east of the Torlynn coastline.  To rush into an encounter with such a creature would be to invite defeat.

Additionally, there is still the matter of the 'rogue' lizardfolk.  If these are as numerous as I have been led to believe, then they represent a threat to Saltmarsh that must be addressed, one way or another.

I shall report my progress in this task in my next report.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Disdain for his enemies and a casual belief in his own power...I like Kull.


----------



## Lela

Did ya notice how he completely disregarded Gnoric?


----------



## djrdjmsqrd

*Great Job!*

Just wanted to say still here, still lurking and great job.


----------



## Capellan

Hi folks,

Just a note to let you know that there will probably be no updates for the next month or so.  I only have one session to catch up, anyway, and we don't play again until September, but the main reason for the delay is some personal stuff that's going on.  _Good_ stuff, but stuff nonetheless 

As a teaser, I can tell you that the session I still have to write-up includes:

- Lizardfolk
- Communes and divinations, oh my!
- Big news for Kull
- CR20 opponents!
- more death than you can poke a stick at


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> - Communes and divinations, oh my!
> - Big news for Kull
> - CR20 opponents!



All three of these sound related. . .

I look forward to the first two most though.  When Kull says hi to Hextor, what does Hextor say back?


----------



## Capellan

In an amusing anecdote, we've scheduled the battle with the Dragon (and the very last session of Saltmarsh, ever) for October 2nd.  This, it turns out, is "Worldwide D&D Game Day".  We had no idea of this when we were setting up our game, but it seems a very appropriate day to take on the "Big Black".

Wish us luck 

Update this weekend!


----------



## Zaruthustran

Last game of Saltmarsh, ever?

 

-z


----------



## Capellan

Unless I manage to nag the DM into recommencing the campaign at a later date, it will indeed be the last session.  His original, 'drain the swamp' storyline will conclude with the Dragon's death.  Assuming we win, that is!

Of course, there are still many, many things out there for Kull & Co to kill and the Duke of Durham is not likely to be happy that he gave up all that suddenly useful land to us.  "Against the Giants" has been mentioned as a possible continuation, and the DM just got "Fields of Blood", so realm management and mass warfare are also options.  I _will_ be nagging him - what remains to be seen is whether I will succeed! 

But he _did_ say this, way back on page 13:



			
				The Padre said:
			
		

> At the moment, my plans consist of 5-6 more sessions (we play about once a month or less). If at that point everyone wants to continue, I probably will. I still have the Giants Trilogy to play around with after all
> 
> It'll depend on the players really.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 16th Report - Part 1*

Saltmarsh
Fourth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Communication from Kull Redfist


Kartrak,

Let me begin by expressing my very great pride and pleasure on receiving the Church's promotion to a rank of Bishop-General.  Although I do not agree that my secular rank warranted such a promotion, I will do all I can to prove worthy of it, and to advance the interests of Our Lord Hextor in this region.

I trust that the Church will understand that I have long since put the staff of the late administrator to work. They are responsible for border security, customs excise and law enforcement.  Their performance thus far has been in most respects exemplary.  The only infraction I have to report was in the case of a certain Inquisitor Matin, whose frequent use of excessive force led to the deaths of several prisoners before questioning could be completed.  Matin claimed that he had done so because he believed to be Our Lord's Will.  I sentenced him to undergo the same trials as those he had killed.  Had he survived, it would have demonstrated he was correct in his interpretation of Hextor's purpose.

The purpose of this report, however, is to advise the Church of a recent visit by the Lizardfolk ambassador, and the developments that resulted from it.  The ambassador had arrived to propose a treaty between his people, and the realm of the Birch Coast, which I now administer in Our Lord's name.

The lizardfolk proposal was simple enough: they requested dominion of the area of land around their stronghold, in exchange for which they would offer intelligence on a dangerous renegade of their race, whom they believed would go to war with Saltmarsh if I succeeded in my goal of draining the swamp.

As the region the ambassador requested would remain marshland even after the swamp retreated, I agreed to the request.  In addition to this, however, I required them to enter into a treaty of mutual defence and trade.  I will not have an independent state within the bounds of the Birch Coast, unless that state's welfare and interests are tied to that of the region as a whole.

With the negotiations at an end, we turned to the matter of the lizardfolk renegade, whom the ambassador gave the name S'Slakk.  The renegade made his base at a cavern complex between the Lesser and Greater Buffalo Bone Rivers, to the west and south of the old Beacon.  They estimated his followers there to number some ten thousand, about half of which were warriors: a force many times over that which could be marshalled against it.

I doubted then - and still doubt now - the accuracy of these figures.  An settlement of such size could not long endure in such poor land.  If this S'Slakk had the forces the ambassador gave him, he would have gone on to war long before, simply to feed his followers.  That he had a formidable force, however, I was more than willing to accept.  The lizardfolk are a proud people, and would not have allowed the renegade's forces to survive, had they been able to destroy them, themselves.

In addition to the main body of his army - however large it might actually be - S'Slakk was also known to have a bodyguard of elite troops, as well as a powerful advisor.  Beyond the hyperbole of 'elite' and 'powerful', the ambassador could give little indication of these group's capabilities, though he indicated that S'Slakk himself was a mighty warrior.

The lizardfolk's intelligence on S'Slakk came from one of their scouts, who had been captured by the renegade, but subsequently escaped through an underwater tunnel.  This tunnel apparently led deep into S'Slakk's camp.  The ambassador was confident that the tunnel could be used to reach the heart of the camp, without the need to battle the main body of the renegade's army.  I cannot say that I shared his confidence: S'Slakk would be a fool indeed if he was not by now aware of the means by which the lizardfolk scout had escaped.

It was also the ambassdor's belief that, were S'Slakk slain, the body of his followers would wither away into small groups, none of which could threaten the wider region of the Birch Coast.  No doubt many such groups would 'wither' into the control of the local lizardfolk, a fact the ambassador admitted when I suggested as much.

After due consideration, I decided that I would strike against this S'Slakk.  I had heard enough to be confident that he was a threat to the security of the Birch Coast.  I did not plan to make the attack with only the ambassador's information, however.  First, I would call on Our Lord Hextor for his counsel.


----------



## Lela

Capellan said:
			
		

> The only infraction I have to report was in the case of a certain Inquisitor Matin, whose frequent use of excessive force led to the deaths of several prisoners before questioning could be completed. Matin claimed that he had done so because he believed to be Our Lord's Will. I sentenced him to undergo the same trials as those he had killed. Had he survived, it would have demonstrated he was correct in his interpretation of Hextor's purpose.



Brilliant!!!!!!!!


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

Capellan said:
			
		

> As we destroyed the elemental, I heard Gnorric recite the incantation for magic missile.  Naturally, lacking a target, the spell failed.  The wizard's foolishness is astonishing: what did he propose to do?  Attack the darkness?




My internet was gone for a while, so I didn't get to see this when you first posted it, but just let me say:

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

OK, done now.


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 16th Report - Part 2*

I thus undertook a vigil, communing with Our Lord Hextor, that he might share his power and wisdom.  It was a moment of great pride and humility for me, to finally address myself to Him, and from it I learned several important things.

First, that the information given to us by the lizardfolk was accurate: both in terms tunnel's existence, and in terms of S'Slakk's actions if the marsh were to be drained.  The vigil also confirmed that S'Slakk was aware of the tunnel's existence.

With these matters addressed, I turned to the tactical considerations of the battle.  I was pleased to learn that S'Slakk had no spellcasters of any kind amidst his retinue.  This would no doubt present an important advantage in the upcoming battle: my forces would be bolstered with the strength of Our Lord, against which no mortal foe can stand.

I was also pleased to learn that S'Slakk had no knowledge that he would soon have to face my forces.  While I did not doubt that his followers would be prepared and alert for enemies of some kind, it would be more likely that they would plan for an attack by lizardfolk forces.  Furthermore, I learned that S'Slakk and all of his retinue were themselves of lizardfolk stock, and that S'Slakk himself was a mighty barbarian warrior, and the most powerful of the foes I would face.

Armed with this knowledge, I called Dargrim, Ulfgar and the wizard to my headquarters, and began to plan my strategy for the battle.  I was not wholly convinced of the relative worth of the tunnel as an entrance to the camp, given that it was known to my enemy, but in the end decided that it would be my route of attack.  Although S'Slakk knew of the opening, he would be unlikely to expect a serious threat to arrive from such a limited entry point.  If the guards there could be overwhelmed quickly, it would present the best opportunity for a quick, decisive strike.

As I am here to pen these words, it is evident that the battle was fought and won, and S'Slakk destroyed: but it was by no means an easy battle, even with my preparations.

As soon as I led the way into the renegade's caverns, we were beset by his bodyguards: each a black-scaled lizardfolk warrior standing no less than seven feet tall.  Never before had I seen creatures of such raw physical power amongst any race but that of the giants.  Ulfgar and Dargrim met them in melee, while I invoked a column of divine fire from Our Lord, and the wizard followed my strike with blinding spray of golden dust.

As the guards fell, the noise of battle brought more of the enemy toward us.  I had prepared for such an eventuality, however: the wizard laid down a storm of ice and hail, battering the oncoming enemy and slowing down their approach.

At that moment the battle seemed in hand, but the tides of combat are fickle: and so are the actions of fools.  The wizard had brought with him his 'companion', and - having contributed little to the battle thus far - this individual took it upon himself to leave our lines.  Apparently his intent was to show off his skill: if so, he did a poor job, for he was disembowelled within seconds, falling under the enemy's axes without ever landing a blow of his own.

This action opened the right flank of our line, and I forced the wizard behind me, while Dargrim struck down the creature who had killed the fool.  These quick actions prevented us from being surrounded, but it was clear from the strength and numbers of my enemies that there was little prospect of a swift victory.

And then, with a bellow of rage, S'Slakk himself emerged from the wizard's dissipating ice storm.

He was a monstrous lizardfolk: near a head taller than his bodyguard, his body so lacerated from scars that his scales could barely be seen.  With a second roar, even louder than the first, he threw himself toward Ulfgar, spittle drooling from his gaping jaws as he came.

Whatever the foolishness of his religious dogma, the dwarf is a doughty warrior.  He swung his blade as S'Slakk charged, letting the enemy's own strength drive him upon the weapon.  The sword struck S'Slakk just above the right ear, then carved down the side of his head, ripping away half of the face.  The blade did not stop there: it shattered the creature's shoulder blade and drove in three of its ribs.  I have never seen a finer blow, more expertly struck.

S'Slakk did not even slow in his charge.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Yet another outstanding letter from the pithy Hectorite.

GW


----------



## Zaruthustran

Capellan said:
			
		

> At that moment the battle seemed in hand, but the tides of combat are fickle: and so are the actions of fools.  The wizard had brought with him his 'companion', and - having contributed little to the battle thus far - this individual took it upon himself to leave our lines.  Apparently his intent was to show off his skill: if so, he did a poor job, for he was disembowelled within seconds, falling under the enemy's axes without ever landing a blow of his own.




Details, please! Who was this "companion", and what was he attempting to accomplish? Was it a botched tumble roll by a rogue?

-z


----------



## Lela

Okay, why did he send out his familiar to do the fighting?  They usually go down easy.


----------



## Morte

Capellan said:
			
		

> To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart
> 
> 
> Communication from Kull Redfist
> 
> 
> Kartrak,




My, he is going up in the world.

Nice to see you back and reporting, Capellan.


----------



## Capellan

It was his cohort Jav (also known as "the feeb" - which is how we had him written down in the initiative order  ), rather than his familiar.

The tumble check came off OK, but then he rolled a '4' on his attack roll, which missed by about 10 or 12 points.  More importantly, it put him on the opposite side of the enemy lines, right between their reinforcements and the fight.

The reinforcements charged, and Jav went from full health to about -35 hit points.

Mantreus: "That was probably a bad move, wasn't it?"
Capellan & Arwink: "Ya think?"

Ulfgar's hit on S'Slakk, for the record, was a confirmed crit doing over 100 points of damage.  I'm pretty sure it did enough damage to drop Kull from full to unconscious, had he been the target.

S'Slakk, on the other hand, was a _long_ way from finished


----------



## Lela

Those blasted infernal super Con bonus beasties.

 Of course, I remember that happening to the BBEG of the campiagn.  Alas, He died before his time.  Was only able to take out 2 of the PCs.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Huzzah! Update!

I love big fights with charging barbarian types. They're so much fun. Less so for the party, of course.


----------



## Capellan

So, we were supposed to play the last game on October 2nd.

But I am now leaving the country on October 1st.

Fortunately, we planned for this and moved the last game forward a week.

Which means that I know what happened with the Dragon, and you don't 

Updates will resume once I am settled in the US: possibly a few days, maybe longer.


----------



## Lela

[Whine]
 Mommy!  Capellan's being _mean_ to me!
 [/Whine]


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 16th Report - Part 3*

The massive lizardman slammed into Ulfgar, hammering him with an axe blow that tore a great rent in the dwarf’s plate armour.  Ulfgar, already wounded by the bodyguards, rocked on his feet.  Knowing that we needed his blade to hold our position, I called on Hextor, and Our Lord’s energies filled the dwarf, cleansing every wound he had suffered.

The lines of battle were now formed: Dargrim and Ulfgar stood side by side, holding back our scaled enemies.  The wizard lurked to the rear, seemingly bereft of any further useful magic.  For my part, I stood at the centre.  There was not room for me to step forward and join the line, so I used the powers of Hextor to assist us.  One of the lizardfolk stood to the rear, firing arrows into the melee.  He I struck with a pillar of divine fire; then, knowing that an army lurked outside the cave, I sealed the entrance with a wall of spinning metal blades.  The archer had not fallen, but the sting of his arrows was far less troublesome than the thought of further reinforcement for our foes.

S'Slakk's guards were now being slaughtered.  Though staunch warriors in their own rights, they had not faced the kind of foes which Dargrim and Ulfgar had aided me to defeat.  S'Slakk himself, however, was a fighter of another calibre: his technique was rudimentary, but he had raw power and an overwhelming rage that more than made up for it.  As the last of the guards in the melee was slain, he hammered a series of mighty blows into Ulfgar's body.  Even the sturdy dwarf could not survive such an onslaught: he fell, the trunk of his torso all but severed in half.

S'Slakk roared in triumph ... and then bellowed in frustration.  The blinding curse is a prayer of only modest power, but it is highly effective against enemies such as the mighty lizardfolk chieftain.  By Hextor's Will, he was robbed of his sight.

Dargrim stepped before S'Slakk then, planting himself like an immovable wall.  With the field of battle now clear, I moved forward, ending the life of the archer, whose arrows had been a gadfly to us throughout the battle.  This left only S'Slakk himself.  Dargrim and the lizardman hammered blow after blow upon each other.  Even blinded, S'Slakk had the better of the fight: his blows came with too much force for even dwarf-crafted steel to stop them.  It was only his lack of sight that prevented him from felling Dargrim in the first few seconds.

Mighty though he was, S'Slakk now bled from many wounds.  Seeing his opponent was blind, Dargrim stepped back, leaving me room to enter the fray.  I charged, Hextor's name as a battle-cry on my lips.  My flail struck S'Slakk across the jaw, tearing away the lower half of his face as bone and scale alike were shattered.

The great lizardfolk renegade fell, his life snuffed out, as will be the lives of all those who oppose the Will of Hextor.

Gathering the bodies of Ulfgar and the wizard's companion, I led the other back to Saltmarsh.  Once there, I made preparations for the town's defence, in case the renegades did not disband as peacefully as the lizardfolk ambassador had supposed.  His information proved correct, however, and the mighty host S'Slakk had assembled did not survive his fall.  The renegades dispersed into small groups, or were absorbed into the local lizardfolk tribe, where their threat would be diminished.

Ulfgar, whatever his foolish religious notions, had been a doughty companion.  He had also amassed considerable wealth.  With this, I was able to purchase the soul gem needed to call his spirit back from the realm of the Gods.  He returned, his beliefs apparently unchanged, but the fact that he answered the call at all shows that what he found there could not complete with the honour of serving in Hextor's divine host.

The wizard, too, had grown wealthy.  He financed the purchase of a second soul gem, for the purpose of restoring his lost companion.  I have misgivings about the wizard's attachment to this individual, who has been of little value in any task I have undertaken.  The wizard himself has been useful, however, and thus I humoured his request.

The defeat of S'Slakk left only one task unfinished.

The dragon is next.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Awesome, glad to see it.  I'll miss this one when you give the final update.  Are you out of Australia for good, or will you be going back?

GW


----------



## Capellan

The _next_ update will in fact be the last ... at least for now.  Who lives?  Who dies?  It all comes down to the next post 

I'm in Boston until mid-December.  After that, I may or may not be coming back to the US for up to 2-3 years.  A lot depends on visas and such.

If I do come back, any further Hextor posts will be a long time coming.  On the other hand, I might be able to find a game or two to take part in, in this part of the world


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Capellan said:
			
		

> The _next_ update will in fact be the last ... at least for now.  Who lives?  Who dies?  It all comes down to the next post
> 
> I'm in Boston until mid-December.  After that, I may or may not be coming back to the US for up to 2-3 years.  A lot depends on visas and such.
> 
> If I do come back, any further Hextor posts will be a long time coming.  On the other hand, I might be able to find a game or two to take part in, in this part of the world




Doesn't Piratecat and his crew play in Mass. ?  Good Luck out there.   Those bigger cities make me uneasy.

GW


----------



## Capellan

*Kull's 17th Report*

Saltmarsh
Seventh Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Communication from Kull Redfist


Kartrak,

My apologies to the church elders for the lateness of this communication: the rise of the lands after dragon's death took a period of several weeks, and I was unable to prepare a report for them in that time.

I had expected the battle with the dragon to be a mighty contest, but in truth the creature squandered its opportunities to destroy us, engaging in battle with an arrogance that swiftly led to its destruction.  I must commend the actions of all those who assisted me in this battle: although only Dargrim is a true son of the church, the others fought with a courage that was commendable in those who follow lesser faiths.

I will not dwell on the events of the battle: the dragon attempted subterfuge, was discovered, and then thought to destroy us by its strength alone.  It used its acid breath once, without effect - we would have been fools indeed to come without protection from such an attack - then resorted to striking with its teeth, claws, wings and tail.  Both Ulfgar and the wizard were hurt badly in the fight, and I endured several blows as well, but the beast's scaled hide could not turn all our blows, and so it perished.

I feel a measure of pride, however, that it fell to me to deliver the killing blow, ending the dragon's life and leaving the way clear to raise the lands once more.

After the creature's death, the wizard's first thought was to animate the corpse as a skeleton.  However, his magic was too weak to affect such a mighty creature.  For once, I consider the thwarting of his necromantic ambitions to be a disappointment.  The beast would have made a fine warning to others of the strength that Our Lord Hextor has brought to Saltmarsh.

I have nothing more to say of the dragon's destruction, but there is much of which I still need to speak.  The rising of the lands after the creature's death was gradual: it took in all a period of some two full months.  The borders of the swamp are now back to their original position, and no further changes have been noted in more than three weeks.  The changes were gradual enough that no significant damage was done by the transition, and their slow pace doubtless also delayed the Duke of Durham from detecting them, at first.  By now, however, he is aware that the 'worthless' swamp land he gave away to me has become of much more value.  All indications suggest that he will attempt to gain control of this land as soon as he is able.

I have undertaken another vigil, communing with Hextor, that he might share his power and wisdom.  Our Lord confirmed my suspicions of the Duke: he will attempt to take control of Saltmarsh and the surrounding lands by any means at his disposal: military, political or otherwise.  I am sure I can rely on the Church's assistance in the event of open warfare, but would urgently request that the church elders consider what other resources they might be able to provide at this time.

My vigil with Our Lord gave me confidence that there are also potential allies much closer to Saltmarsh, should the Duke seek to attack.  I have begun to investigate which forces in the land might be willing to give their support against any aggression.  My first priority, however, will be to continue training and equipping the militia, and to establish strongholds from which this land can be administered and protected.

Other than the Duke's inevitable hostility, the other matter of major import in these parts is the continued humanoid infestation of the north.  While their armies to the south of Fire Pass have been scattered, the creatures still hold sway over much of the northern lands.  The results of my vigil lead me to believe that a greater and more malevolent force is behind this humanoid invasion.  Furthermore, I believe that some of the orc and goblin chieftains might be willing to co-operate in the destruction of their masters, suggesting that the relationship is not a without its frictions: though of course it is hard to imagine any relationship with such creatures being wholly amiable!

While I am intrigued by the mystery of the creatures that prompted the humanoid invasion, and by the possibilities of conquest and expansion in the north, I currently rate these matters of secondary importance to the more pressing need to organise the defences of Saltmarsh.  No expedition to the north can be mounted until the threat of the Duke has been eliminated.  It would be best for the people of Durham and Saltmarsh alike if this threat could be dealt with peacefully.  Both realms would be weakened by further warfare, which would delay any chance of re-taking the north.

As Hextor teaches, however, the best means of preventing an attack is to make your strength so evident that none would dare challenge you.  Thus, my first priority remains the formation and equipment of a well-trained militia, and the establishment of Questioners to watch for disloyalty.  The renewed prosperity I have brought to this region should ensure the loyalty of the majority, but there will always be a minority who are malcontent, or simply greedy for foreign gold.

I remain determined that Saltmarsh will endure and prosper under the banner of Our Lord Hextor, and will bring many soldiers to His cause.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist


----------



## Morte

So I guess this is the end of the campaign?

Thanks, Capellan, it has been a great read. Fun game, fun narration.


----------



## Capellan

Yep, the end of the campaign (for at least the forseeable future) and the end of Kull's writings.  Maybe we'll hear something from Gnorric, but I doubt it.

If anyone has any questions about the game, though, they should go ahead and ask


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

After burning down a bookstore full of Hextorian religious tracts and being arrested, one of my player's characters was treated to the book-loving Hextorian investigator bemoaning the loss of "one of the few remaining original copies of Bishop-General Kull's correspondences" in the same way a real-world book lover might bemoan the loss of a Dickens manuscript.  Good fun, and a good read.  Thanks, Capellan.


----------



## Zaruthustran

<applause>

Thank you for a very entertaining read. This was one my most favoritest story hours. 

And hey, good luck in your travels! I have a feeling your gaming needs will be well-satisfied.

-z


----------



## Capellan

Thanks for the kind words, guys 

For everyone's info, I will be compiling a collection of all of Kull's reports and posting them to the ENworld downloads section when I get back to Brisbane -- probably about 3 or 4 days before Xmas.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Capellan said:
			
		

> Thanks for the kind words, guys
> 
> For everyone's info, I will be compiling a collection of all of Kull's reports and posting them to the ENworld downloads section when I get back to Brisbane -- probably about 3 or 4 days before Xmas.




That would be great.  I have a friend that I beam the good story hours to.  This will surely be one of them. As long as the Palm Acrobat reader translates it well.

GW


----------



## Tony Vargas

I almost didn't get to read this SH - I kept assuming it was an 'evils' campaign - but, I figured I'd check it out when I saw it was wrapping up.  Glad I did.  Great character, great story!


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Thanks for a fantastic ride throughout!

Would you be so kind as to fill us in on the final levels of the characters? And I love that, in true style, the final battle is barely mentioned in your report. Classic.

Hope to be hearing more from you and the group!


----------



## Capellan

Kull was a Cleric 11 / Ironfist 3 ... though if we ever resume the campaign, he'll get re-worked.  Probably to Cleric 11/Half-Orc Paragon 3.

Dargrim (cohort) was a Fighter 6 / Rogue 3 / Dwarven Defender 3.

Ulfgar was a Cleric 9 / Fighter 4, IIRC.

Gnorric was a Wizard 7 / Cleric 3 / Mystic Theurge 3.  Though you probably had no idea about he was anything but a necromancer, based on Kull's account 

Jav (cohort) was a Rogue 1 / Monk 4 / Grey Messenger 6.  The Grey Messenger was basically a religious, non-evil assassin with divine spellcasting instead of arcane.

Before the final battle, I had every intentionn of writing it up in detail.  It was just that, when we finally did it, it was over pretty quickly.  The DM opted to go for a younger age category than we had expected, and then he made the mistake of fighting us in melee.  End result: dead dragon, and PCs who were bitterly disappointed that you can only use _animate dead_ on creatures of up to 20 Hit Dice.

Die rolls were also a factor in determining how the battle got written up.  Kull didn't have much luck with the dice until he landed the killing blow ... Ulfgar actually did most of the damage, and Kull wasn't going to spend much time celebrating the dwarf's achievements, now was he?


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## Graywolf-ELM

Just a bump so others will see it to read.

GW


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## Capellan

Shameless pimping!


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## arwink

Book 2 in Clockwork Golem Workshop's Lost Books series is the Red Fist, a collectiong of battle reports and new magic written by a half-orc cleric known as Kull Redist.  For fans of the storyhour that inspired the Red Fists's history and new spells, we're offering a coupon that allows you to get it for 50% off before the end of February. 

So without further ado: More Shamless Pimping


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## Capellan

First off, I need to do some shameless pimping of my new MnM Superlink PDF.  But that's not the only reason I posted on this thread (unlike some others!).  I also wanted to share the picture below with you all.

I also wanted to let you all know that a compiled PDF of this Story Hour will soon the available from the downloads section of ENworld.  It'll feature all Kull's updates, the four maps from the SH, and cover art by the amazing John O'Connor (a.k.a. Kip the Bold).

You can expect another post here when it is ready for download!


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## Capellan

Faster than I expected, the Compiled "In Hextor's Name" is available for download.


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## Capellan

So I go home to Australia in 4 weeks, and discussions of a Saltmarsh-y kind have been happening.

No promises that there will be a story hour yet, but things look hopeful for a _Saltmarsh: the Next Generation_ campaign.

Dibs I'm not the cleric!


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## Zaruthustran

Sweet! This story hour definitely stands out as one of the more unique tales out there. So bold, so uncompromising, so lawful.

Maybe the game could take place 10-20 years after Kull's conquering. The Church of Hextor has sent Kull far away on some damn fool idealistic crusade, and moved in to assume control. The players are members of the ragtag Lizardman resistance. Some advocate a campaign of counter-genocide. Some want to flee. Some worship Saint Kull the Just, and seek to restore his structure of ambivalent law.

Whatever. Make mine Kull!

-z


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## The Padre

*Saltmarsh II - The Uneasy Peace*

Saltmarsh II will be definately happening. I'm mainly waiting for Cappellan to return to sunny Oz for the restart.




			
				Zaruthustran said:
			
		

> Maybe the game could take place 10-20 years after Kull's conquering. The Church of Hextor has sent Kull far away on some damn fool idealistic crusade, and moved in to assume control. The players are members of the ragtag Lizardman resistance. Some advocate a campaign of counter-genocide. Some want to flee. Some worship Saint Kull the Just, and seek to restore his structure of ambivalent law.




This was my original idea, but I've since changed what I'll be doing.

It will be 10 years after the end of the campaign. A peace treaty has been signed with the greenskin hordes. The PC have retired to their roles as Barons of the Birch Coast, but have sent out a call for brave and adventurous types to help clear the savage northern areas from Greenskin infiltration. In return they will be granted a parcel of land.

"Fields of Blood" will be available for use if the players want it.

Dave


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## Graywolf-ELM

I look forward to the possibility of hearing about the new game.

GW


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## DethStruck

Excellent work on this story. I loved all of the writing.

You inspired me.


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