# Shackled City put through a blender (updated 7-23)



## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

I decided to run the Shackled City AP for my group, but I've made quite a few changes, and the players are notorious for making a shambles of nicely established plotlines. The writing is mostly inspired by JollyDoc's. I hope this plug for his SH will make up for any cool phrases I might steal from it. ;-) I will try to include DM commentary wherever appropriate.

PCs at start of campaign:

Monterey Jack, male human Swashbuckler 1
Oberyn Tercival, male human Hexblade 1
Simon Filigree, male human Rogue 1
Tateland of Griffondale, male human Cleric 1 (St. Cuthbert)


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*And The Caravan Is On Its Way, I Can Hear The Merry Gypsies Play*

[smallcaps]Starday, Harvester 1.[/smallcaps]

Clouds marred the late summer sky on the first morning of Harvester in the year 582 as Bolgrim Urjak's four-wagon caravan transporting foodstuffs rumbled noisily across the great stone bridge connecting the port city of Griffondale with the west-bank shantytown of Scumport.

Waiting on the opposite side of the bridge were three travellers. The tall, dark-haired man in the middle--the only one on a horse--held up his hand. "We will go with you to Cauldron Keep," he said, as if the point were not to be challenged.

The dwarf reined in the lead wagon and look over the trio. He pointed to Monterey Jack, one of the men on foot, who was a flamboyantly dressed figure resting his hand on a sheathed rapier. 

"You," grumbled the caravan master. "You willing to bloody that blade of yours if brigands attack us?"

"I am," said Jack.

The portly dwarf turned his gaze to the other man on foot, a priest of St. Cuthbert named Tateland. "What about you, priest? Have you taken any vows against bloodshed?"

"I am no stranger to violence," said Tateland, "and I have dealt with the lawless before." He smacked the head of his heavy mace into his palm to emphasize his point.

Finally Bolgrim looked at the man on the horse who had stopped him. "What about you? Are you going to protect this caravan?"

"I promise nothing," scoffed Oberyn, for that was his name. "I am not a simple sword for hire to be ordered into battle."

"Then you will receive nothing from me," said Bolgrim, "and you'd best not cause any trouble. You other two," he looked at the men on foot, "can ride if you're willing to keep me and the boys here safe." 

Jack and Tateland agreed and climbed aboard the wagons. Oberyn turned his horse alongside.

The caravan made its way along the broadest avenue of Scumport to the western trail that led into the mountains. There a small tax was to be paid. Bolgrim paid for everyone but Oberyn, who paid a couple of silver legions for his own.

[sblock=GM commentary]I set the campaign in the southern Hold of the Sea Princes proper--specifically the Kamph Mountains--at the start of the Greyhawk Wars. Accordingly, you'll see references to the Scarlet Brotherhood taking over the Sea Princes... Also Sasserine has been replaced with Griffondale, the largest city in the Margraviate of Throff.

Most of the first session was devoted to foreshadowing future events while they travelled to Cauldron Keep, which is simply Cauldron from the AP laid over the old Adlerweg Keep idea.
[/sblock]


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*A Farewell To Kings*

"I thought it was customary to levy taxes upon entering a city, not leaving one," muttered Oberyn as he caught up with the caravan and rode next to Tateland.

"These are Yem's men," said Tateland in disgust. "They straddle the line between taxation and extortion."

"Who is Yem? I thought the Margraf's name was Tinardo?"

"Obviously news comes slow to Redgorge. The Princes have fallen. Well, most of 'em anyway. In Richfest not eight weeks ago, 27 of the 30 council nobles were slain in a single night. Many of them lost their families, too. Yem was Tinardo's advisor, so he's been running the place ever since."

"Twenty-seven nobles slain in one night?" asked Oberyn incredulously. "Who is capable of such a feat?"

Jack had been listening in on the conversation, and now he spoke up. "The Scarlet Banner, that's who. Nobody knows much about them, 'cept they sent a messenger from across the sea. The Council of Princes just laughed at their demands."

"This Scarlet Banner group must have had agents in high places," said Oberyn, "all across the eastern Hold, maybe farther. Can you imagine how long it must have taken to infiltrate that many palaces and keeps?"

Tateland nodded. "And now everyone in authority must answer to a Scarlet Brother."

***

The wagon train had crossed a couple of bridges and reached a tiny village named Hollowsky when Bolgrim called a halt for a mid-day meal. 

"Is there no tavern here?" asked Oberyn, looking around. The village had no discernable establishments for travellers. Aside from a mill and lumberyard, all of the structures seemed to be homes. Everyone ate in silence on the wagons. 

Soon the trip resumed, but within an hour another halt was called. Shortly after entering a patch of woodlands, one of the lead wagons had struck a fallen limb and broken a wheel.

Jack and Tateland scaned the surrounding woods for any sign of an ambush. Oberyn merely rolled his eyes and looked on in boredom as two of the wagoneers--sullen looking gypies named Arturo and Zachariah--replaced the wheel while the third, a younger and less broadly built man named Simon, stood atop his wagon scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble, the glint of a knife visible in his hand.

In short order the caravan set off again along the road, eventually meeting the long shadow of the mountains stretching out to encompass them as the sun fell behind the Kamph mountains.

The wagons passed through another flyspeck of a village, crossed a stone bridge, and came to a halt outside of a massive wooden structure called the Lucky Monkey. The building was old and well used--the chimneys stained with soot, the roof sagging, the wood siding weathered and stained from last year's mildew.

The stable to which Bolgrim steered the wagons was smaller but in similar condition. Bolgrim oversaw the activities of the three wagon-drivers in securing the caravan for the night, then with his chest puffed out, he led the entourage toward the tavern. "Meals and board are on your own coin," he said, almost as an afterthought. 

The façade of the Lucky Monkey sported numerous carved wooden monkeys, many engaged in risky, death-defying stunts. Above the front double doors, a wooden monkey was shown balancing on a narrow tree branch to get a banana hanging over the sleeping tiger that was sprawled in relief across the two heavy doors.

Bolgrim and the wagon-drivers sat at the first available table while Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland surveyed the scene. The large common room into which they walked wasn't crowded. At a table to their left sat an elderly gentleman with thinning white hair and beard, who wore simple brown robes. A gnarled staff leaned against the wall behind him. Next to him sat a half-olven woman with long silver hair and dusky skin. Beyond their table, other patrons could be glimpsed sitting at a long table in a private area.

To the right was a stage area, upon which a gangly young man stumbled as he sang loudly and off-key, waving a blue bottle wildly in one hand to punctuate his refrain. At the table directly in front of the stage were two men and two women. The women were a middle-aged blonde and a more scantily clad younger woman with short, fiery hair and red tatoos on her face. The men were a dark-skinned Olman in a dirty leather vest and an overweight pasty-faced man. 

As the travellers stood wondering where to sit, the pasty-faced man cracked a joke about the "dwarf's lost lackeys," and the others laughed. Oberyn shot back his own snide remark, and the patron half-stood as if to confront him, but the red-head snapped her fingers and he sat back down.

"Good dog," muttered Oberyn.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*Let's Spend the Night Together*

Ysa was tired and bored. If that pudgy one named Feristin pinched her on the rump again, so help her, she was going to spill hot soup in his lap. She leaned against the bar and dreamed of leaving this place, going off to live in a city with a handsome lord. She knew nothing of the world beyond Kingfisher Hollow and the Lucky Monkey.

Her face brightened when another group of visitors arrived. Among them were several young men, and more than one were clothed in finery and appeared well-groomed. She watched with interest as they began to claim tables, then she rushed to gather their orders.

***

Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland walked up to the long bar, carved into which were the images of numerous cavorting monkeys. After paying for their rooms from the owner, Orin Marsh, the trio headed to a table at the other end of the stage, but Orin spoke up as Tateland walked by. "Oh, sorry, you'll want the far room."

Tateland looked quizzically at him. "Excuse me?"

"Well, ain't you with the priest? You're one of them Cuthbert folks, aren't you?" He motioned to Tateland's holy symbol.

"I am a servant of St. Cuthbert," agreed Tateland. "But I am with these men. Who else is here of that faith?" 

Orin apologised, "I figured you was with the high priest. Sorry to bother. Sit where you like."

"Thank you. Perhaps it would be best if I spoke with the high priest."

"You know your own business," answered Orin. "Want me to pop over and ask him if can take a visitor?"

"Yes, please."

While Orin stepped away, Ysa appeared and took the gentlemen's requests for freshly cooked boar. Oberyn added a bottle of Tavonin Blackberry to the order.

Orin returned to invite Tateland to the private banquet hall on the west side of the building, and Tateland left.

Meanwhile, Ysa returned with the food and drink. She had kept her eye on Oberyn, dropping the not-so-subtle hint that her room could be found up the east stairs, the second door on the right.

Watching all of this unfold, Jack looked around for someone to invite him to a private party. His eye fell on the red-haired woman at the other table, and he found that she too was eying him, though not perhaps with the same intention.

"Bring a round of drinks for the group near the stage," Jack asked Ysa, "on me." He spoke these words loud enough that the men and women at that table would hear them over the ramblings of their rowdier compatriot on the stage. He called out in the tongue of the Olman, "To mend our rocky start."

***

High Priest Sarcem Delasharn was seated at the head of the long table in the banquet hall. On either side of the table sat devout men-at-arms. All three had solemn expressions and bore the symbol of St. Cuthbert.

Tateland strode forward and gave a brief bow. "High Priest."

Sarcem stood and waved Tateland to a seat. "Please, brother, sit and eat."

"I thank you for the generosity. I can always eat." Tateland tore a leg from the roast pheasant on the platter in the centre of the table. "I am merely an acolyte of the order, Father, so forgive my rudeness, but what leads you away from the temple?"

Sarcem waved his hand to show he didn't mind the question. "The rainy season approaches, and my auguries tell me it will be a harsh one. I go to Griffondale to receive additional wands for the Lowering of the Waters ceremony. While everyone else focuses on a week-long Flood Festival to celebrate a change in the colour of the flags flapping over the keep, it falls to the faithful like us to ensure that the revelers don't drown in their own filth."

Tateland nodded as if he understood, chewing on the pheasant leg all the while.

***

Perhaps it was an unfortunate happenstance that, before Ysa could bring a round of drinks to the men and women with the compliments of Monterey Jack, the highly inebriated man on the stage finished his song with a warbling scream, twirled in place, and stumbled down the steps face first to the floor, because that seemed to signal an end to the night's festivities for that group. They grabbed their unconscious compatriot's legs and dragged him across the hardwood floor, leaving the room.

Bolgrim and the gypsies also retired to their rooms for the night, but not before one of them--Simon--paid a brief visit to the private banquet hall.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*The Old Man Down the Road*

"What should I do with these, love?" Ysa held the round of drinks Jack had ordered.

Oberyn stood. "Follow me." He led Ysa, Jack, and Tateland to the table where the old man and the half-elf sat. "Pardon me," he said, "I couldn't help notice that we are the sole remaining patrons, and I haven't introduced myself. I am Oberyn Tercival of Redgorge."

"I am Shensen Tesseril," said the slender silver-haired woman. "I maintain the shrine to Fharlanghn here."

"Fharlanghn?"

"God of travel and the horizon," said Tateland.

Shensen nodded, then motioned to her companion. "This is--"

"I can introduce myself, dear lady," he interrupted. "My name is Azathan Veermont. I am not only a scholar, I am a sage as well, in addition to being a learned man. That being the case, my forte is knowledge." He cocked his head as if reading Oberyn. "You have questions, do you not?"

"I do."

"I will answer them, but at the price of a tankard each."

Oberyn nodded to Ysa, finally giving her permission to set the heavy tray of drinks on the table.

Azathan's eyebrows arched, and he straightened his crooked back as best he could. "Ah, you must have lots of questions!"

"Tell me about the Scarlet Brotherhood."

Azathan drew one of the mugs of ale toward him with great relish, but spoke with a low voice. "This is a conversation best carried on in a private room. Let us retire to this booth."
When the company had reassembled inside a private booth and drawn the curtain, Azathan began. "Now then, the Benevolent Brotherhood of the Scarlet Banner. You know, of course, of the 27 nobles who perished, victims of the Sea Princes' overconfidence. The surviving nobles, their next of kin, and conspirators on the Brotherhood's side were quick to agree to the demands the following morning. Overnight the Hold of the Sea Princes became a protectorate of the Scarlet Brothers from across the sea.

"Soon they had landed their great red-sailed ships in our ports and off-loaded knights clad in gold, savages from the jungles of the south, and warbeasts of grisly visage. One Scarlet Brother was sent to each principality to oversee things. It is like the landing of the dice. If the Brother is wise and just, the region prospers; if he is tyrannical, the region suffers. So it was with the Princes, now it is with the Brotherhood.

"After Margraf Tinardo's demise, Throff was placed under the leadership of his advisor, Yem. Indeed it is said that Yem began making changes in the Margraviate as soon as the Margraf left for the Council at which he died, as if he knew the bloody outcome beforehand. In any case, he reports to one called the Red General.

"No word has come from the Duchy of Berghof beyond the mountains as to who may be their assigned Brother. They are fiercely independent, so blood may be shed before the Scarlet Banner flies over the Duchy.

"Cauldron Keep is neither in Berghof nor Throff, rather it is ostensibly a holding of the crown prince and therefore deserves its own Scarlet Brother: Shebeleth Regidin. It was upon his word that the mayor and castellan of the keep were forced to abolish the slave trade and eliminate taxes, so aside from some high nobles, plantation and mine owners, and slavetraders, the majority of the populace are content with the change. They went so far as to extend the upcoming Flood Festival to an entire week in honour of Brother Regidin's arrival."

"So, is no one opposing them?" asked Oberyn.

"There is some scattered opposition, such as the revolt of the peasants of Veemme, which I am sure won't last long. Also I have heard that some disenfranchised nobles have formed a secret alliance against them. They call themselves the Order of the Brazen Blade."

"Are you two members of the Brazen Blade?"

Azathan and Shensen looked at each other. "No," said the old man finally. "We have our own concerns." 

Oberyn considered these words. "Who is their leader of the Brotherhood?"

Azathan drained his mug and reached for another. "Their leader, at least on these shores, seems to be Elder Brother Hammandaturian in Monmurg. The others refer to him as the Shepherd of the Sea Princes. I know nothing else about him."

Three newly emptied mugs occupied the table, and another remained full.

"Drink your fourth now, and I will return to ask you a question in the future," said Oberyn.

"Very well," said Azathan. "Visit me here at the Lucky Monkey if ever you are in need of elucidation."


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*Heavy Cloud No Rain*

[smallcaps]Sunday, Harvester 2.[/smallcaps]

Oberyn awoke at dawn in Ysa's bed. She stirred.

"Must you leave?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Will you return?"

He nodded again.

"I want you to know that you will always have a bed at the Lucky Monkey."

He said nothing, rose, dressed, and descended to the common room. Jack and Tateland were sitting at the bar, chewing some leftover boar and making ready to leave. Oberyn purchased the remainder of the boar from Orin, and the group left the inn. 

Although the eastern sky was lightening, the whole sky was overcast with dark clouds, heavy with rain, yet nothing was falling at the moment. Bolgrim and the wagon-drivers had fed the draft horses and were making the final preparations for the day's trip into Adlerweg Pass.

The terrain through which the trail wound became more rocky with each passing mile. The forests around the Lucky Monkey gave way to steep slopes on either side, and the trail was much rougher than it had been on the previous day's journey.

Every so often, the caravan would pass a plantation or a mine entrance. Sometimes workers could be seen, sometimes the place was idle. A group of dark-skinned Olmans passed by, heading in the opposite direction. They wore tattered clothing and had few possessions. Oberyn offered a pair of silver coins to them as they passed by, and Jack translated to Oberyn the thanks offered by the eldest man.

***

Instead of stopping for a mid-day meal, Bolgrim ordered that food must be eaten while moving. The wagons were a little slower in the pass, and stops had to be kept to a minimum if the caravan was to reach Cauldron Keep by nightfall.

"Slow up!" called Tateland. He had caught sight of a body--perhaps a child or hobbit--lying half-concealed behind a boulder at the side of the road.

Bolgrim grumbled but agreed to pause the wagons briefly while Tateland investigated. Oberyn rode his horse over as well. 

"It is the body of a kobold," called Tateland. He scanned the area for any sign of other kobolds. The young wagon-driver named Simon stood and looked around as well, but no one spotted anything else amiss.

Oberyn rolled the body with his boot to be sure it was dead.

Then Bolgrim ordered the caravan to continue, and the corpse was forgotten.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*The Peddler*

Kort hated leaving the comfort of Cauldron Keep, but his trade as a travelling peddler forced him out onto the road when his liquor money ran out. He had decided to stop for the evening at the foot of the mountain and spend the night in the abandoned guard posts where the winding path up to the keep met the main pass through the mountains.

When he heard the sound of approaching wagons, he pulled on his curl-toed shoes, placed his wide-brimmed, floppy hat on his head, and straightened his particoloured slash-sleeved jacket.

***

Bolgrim pretended not to notice the garishly dressed peddler, even as Kort called out to the group, "Ho! Fine wares for your perusal! Won't you stop and strike up a bargain?"

The wagons rolled past, but Oberyn paused before the merchant, and Kort offered various object for sale. "My name is Kort, and I specialise in rare unguents, oils, herbs, and other luxury items for the bath." Getting no reaction, he quickly offered Oberyn a knife, a hat, or a cook pot, none of which seemed to interest him in the least.

"Which way are you travelling?"

Kort paused, sizing up his customer. When he decided Oberyn had no ill intentions, he said, "I am on my way east, first to Griffondale, and then perhaps on to Thonon or south to Veemme."

"How much for your finest perfume?"

Kort's eyes narrowed. He sensed a mark. "This vial contains the best fragrance from Niole Dra. Within you can sense the distilled essences of orange peel, daffodil, and the freshest kumquat. The entire dram is only five gold eagles."

Oberyn scoffed. "I'll give you one eagle, but you must promise to deliver it to Ysa at the Lucky Monkey, complements of Oberyn Tercival."

"Two eagles," bartered Kort, "and I shall deliver it myself, so as to ensure that the sweet smell is perfectly suited to her fair form."

Oberyn seemed to shift uncomfortably in his saddle, but he agreed to the deal anyway. "When I pass by the Lucky Monkey in two weeks' time, I had better smell the scent myself. I do not suffer swindlers lightly."

"You have nothing to fear, good sir," said Kort, taking the money with a smile.

Oberyn turned and caught up with the caravan. "Well, there's two coins ill-spent," he muttered to himself, doubting aloud whether the perfume will actually be delivered as promised.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*Sanctified Soup*

Although darkness engulfed the trail as the caravan climbed the mountain, the massive walls of the keep atop the peak shone in the dying rays of the sun. The fifty-foot high walls were built of thick, black volcanic rock flecked with green malachite, such that they glittered like quartz in the light.

In order to provide a manageable slope, the trail was forced to wind completely around the mountain, though in a couple of instances, steeper and more direct trails branched off, but Bolgrim was forced to avoid these. At intervals, other smaller tracks switched back from the main trail and led to small plantations, estates, or mines located around the mountain.

When asked about the keep, Bolgrim lectured the questioners with an annoyed tone. "Cauldron Keep sits on the caldera of an extinct volcano, guarding this pass between Throff and Berghof." His chest suddenly puffed up. "My people built it ages ago, before any human had ever set foot here. But alas, it is said that a magical plague struck the inhabitants, and it fell into ruin. Successive generations of humans rebuilt it as Adlerweg Keep, but today it is the Cauldron Keep we all know."

Soon the caravan had entered the city through the east gate, which the heroes later learned was called Merchant's Gate. The city lay below them in ever-narrowing concentric circles, until finally it reached the shores of the lake which lie in the center of the dormant volcanoe's cone. A guard named Skylar Krewis greeted them; no taxes were levied, but he warned those carrying weapons that the castellan looked harshly on those who loose their sword for no reason.

After seeing the caravan safely to an enclosure along Obsidian Avenue, Jack and Tateland received a handful of coins from Bolgrim for their service. They rejoined Oberyn and wandered the darkening city for a while, looking for an inn.

Oberyn stopped a messenger boy. "Where might we find a room for the night?"

The page judged Oberyn's dress and suggested a few places, and Oberyn settled on the Laughing Horse, to which the boy pointed them.

Upon finding the Laughing Horse, the travellers met the proprietor Drand Thetric. Oberyn bartered with the obsequious innkeeper for three rooms for a week, evening meals included, and Tateland paid. Some discussion followed about whether the beds would have sheets, and Drand promised to find some.

"We will take our evening meal now," said Oberyn. "Is the cook in at this hour?" 

"I'm afraid we are between cooks at the moment," admitted Drand.

"No cook?"

"But I am planning to hire one straightaway. In the meantime, I can get you some soup, if that's your pleasure." He added under his breath, "There's a rain barrel out back."

"Fine, we will take the soup," said Oberyn, "but I expect you to hire proper help tomorrow." He sat down at a table with Jack and Tateland.

In moments, Drand returned with three bowls of tepid water in which floated sad remnants of what once must have been vegetables but now appeared to be grey soggy globules.

"I will say the blessing," said Tateland, and he spoke words entreating the gods to purify the meal. At once the broth's aroma improved, and though its taste was still lacking, it seemed edible enough.

[sblock=GM commentary]Note that because Cauldron Keep guards Adlerweg Pass IMC, all of the roads leading from the gate spiral down the mountain, with little dead-end trails curling off of the main road where plantations and mines are located. Although not obvious, this is the first of several coming references to a spiral motif to be explained later.[/sblock]


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*We Don't Need Another Hero*

While they ate, the three travellers couldn't help but overhear three youths at the next table engaged in a debate.

"No, I still say the greatest heroes in Cauldron Keep are the Stormblades," said young Bil. "They's real noble-like and always doing good for the people."

"Yeah, like what?" shot back the even younger Beau, "maintaining high standards of snootiness?" 

"Naw, they're the ones just mopped up that tribe of kobolds what's been scaring people in the eastern pass," answered Bil. "Word is they came back with a couple of heads to prove it, along with the kobold king's magic sword!"

Tateland glanced at Jack. "Hmm, kobolds…"

"I still say Alek Tercival is the greatest hero," said Beau. 

Oberyn stopped in mid-slurp and began listening to the conversation a little closer.

Beau continued. "Alek's the one wearing the shining armour and protecting the innocent and all that. He may be just a backwoods, landless knight, but he's got real heart, that one. Always coming back from quests with treasure and giving to the orphanage and all."

Oberyn leaned over. "Pardon me, but did you just say Alek Tercival?"

"Yeah."

"My companion here," Oberyn gestured to Tateland, "is a man-at-arms of the mighty Alek Tercival."

The three youths took notice of Tateland's holy symbol, and Beau's eyes widened.

"You're all cracked," interrupted the third youth, who was a dwarf not yet in full beard. "Zenith Splintershield could send those high-born pups back to the wet nurse! Don't you know he singlehandedly reclaimed the Malachite Stronghold from the evil that had taken root there? He's the right proper king of the mountain if you ask me. 'Course he ain't been 'round these parts for a while, seeing as he forayed from the Malachite 'Hold to find the lost realm of Torgorim 'neath the Hellfurnaces."

This was a bit much for the listeners to take in all at once, and in any case, the friendly bickering started anew with Bil's claim that the Stormblades have strength in numbers.
"Who are these Stormblades?" said Oberyn, trying to conceal the hint of scorn for such a ridiculous name.

"Cor, where you from that you ain't heard of 'em?" said Bil incredulously. "Beau and Bagrince here will have none of it, but them Stormblades is the best heroes in Cauldron Keep. Annah Taskerhill, she's their leader. The other lady Cora Lathenmire is a treat for the eyes, but watch your tongue around her or she'll remove it for you! Then there's Todd; I don't know as much about him. Zachary is the fourth one, and he's right heroic, he is."

"I see," said Oberyn. "We are new to the keep and make so few acquaintances. What else 
has been going on lately? Surely there is some news you can pass along."

Bil thought for a moment. "You know about the disappearance, right?"

Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland shook their heads no.

"Well, I guess it all started a few weeks ago, after they hoisted them red flags above the walls. Some folks just vanished in the night, most recently a few sorry little ones from the orphanage."

The boys made to leave. Oberyn thanked them for their time and asked them to return in two evenings to the Laughing Horse with more information. Then Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland retired to their rooms for the night.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*The Houses of the Holy*

[smallcaps]Moonday, Harvester 3.[/smallcaps]

The heroes were met the next morning with more dark clouds looming above. Despite the threat of rain, Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland wandered up Obsidian Avenue, taking in the sights and sounds of the small walled city.

They stopped in front of the two-storey Temple of the Order of St. Cuthbert, its white marble walls suffused with veins of vivid blue, standing in stark contrast to the surrounding buildings of black stone and bare wood. A pair of white marble statues depicting armoured warriors stood on either side of the temple's heavy oaken doors, above which were inscribed the bold words, WITHIN LAW LIVES HOPE. Each of the statues was poised with a great mace held up to the darkening sky, and as if on cue, a steady drizzle began to fall, marking the beginning of the rainy season. Tateland led everyone through the doors into the temple.
A priest named Ruphus Laro met them inside. "Y-y-yes?"

"I am Brother Tateland of Griffondale. These are my companions Oberyn and Jack."

Ruphus stuck his head outside and looked both ways, then closed the oaken doors. "Very w-well. I shall tell Sister J-Jenya of your arrival." Ruphus hurried off.

Within moments, two figures approach the trio: a young woman wearing a brown robe with golden trim and the symbol of St. Cuthbert around her neck, and a man in his late thirties dressed in full armour and knight's tabard bearing the symbol of St. Cuthbert.

"Good morning," said the woman. "I am Jenya Urikas, keeper of the temple while High Priest Delasharn is away." She nodded slightly. Her rich brown hair, piled high in an elaborate headress, was streaked with premature gray.

Next spoke the knight. "Sir Alek Tercival of Redgorge." Oberyn's mood changed visibly at Alek's approach; his smirk broadened into a scowl.

After a round of introductions from the heroes, Alek asked Tateland to step into a side room for a moment…

***

"Brother Tateland, you have travelled with Oberyn for some time now. What is your opinion of him?"

"He is moody and militant," said Tateland, "As if some past grievance still weighs on him."

Alek nodded. "He has always been prone to fits. You see, there is something of his father in him. Our family history is too convoluted to explain at the moment, but I would ask of you a favor."

"What is it?"

"Go with him, and keep him out of trouble. He is too proud to have me watching his back at all times, yet I would have it be done."

"Very well," agreed Tateland.

"Brother Tateland," said Alek earnestly, "if he acts… disturbed… in any way, I would like to know about it."

Tateland nodded, then he switched to a topic that had been on his mind lately. "What is the Order's position on the Scarlet Brotherhood? Are they evil?"

"High Priest Delasharn determines the Order's official position. The townsfolk seem pleased with revoked taxes, and though like you I have my doubts about the Brotherhood's sincerity, I must admit the abolishment of slavery should have been done long ago. The slavers now have been run out of the city, and many lives have been spared from the yoke.

"I do believe there is still evil at work in Cauldron Keep, but I cannot say it is the Scarlet Brotherhood's doing. I leave today in pursuit of a clue to that evil. I hope to know more about it the next time we meet." 

***

By the time Tateland returned to the others, Oberyn had convinced Ruphus to show him to an outfitters to buy new clothes and then on to Orek's Bathhouse to clean up. Along the way, Ruphus pointed out numerous landmarks and establishments of interest.

After their baths, the three men changed into their new clothes and sent Ruphus back to the Laughing Horse inn with instructions to Drand Thetric to have them laundered. 

Meanwhile, the heroes spent the remainder of the day meandering through the streets, down to the lake, and along Ash Avenue. They passed among the red lantern district, commenting upon the ladies, until a murmur ran through the inhabitants that a patrol of guards was passing through.

The leader of the patrol, Skylar Krewis, recognized the heroes and stopped to question them. "Have you seen a young woman with bright red hair and a tattoo running down her face?"

"Is she wanted for a crime?" replied Tateland.

"Murder. Her named is Triel Eldurast, and she's mighty dangerous."

"We saw her a night or two ago at the Lucky Monkey," said Jack.

"Eh?" said Skylar. "Well, she's out of our hair then." The soldiers with him seemed pleased.

"Is there a bounty on her head?" asked Oberyn.

"Terseon would like to see her pay for her crime, and I'm sure he'd reward anyone who brought her to him, but I can't say there is a bounty as such."

"Whom did she kill?"

"Some of us guards. You see, she was in the garrison herself, but I guess she just snapped and slew the rest of her patrol."

"She was with another woman and three men," said Jack, providing a brief description of each of Triel's cohorts. 

"Well, we'll send a rider to the Lucky Monkey," said Skylar, "but it sounds like she's Yem's problem now." The patrol turned and left, heading in the direction of the main garrison.

In the late afternoon, the three heroes came to the Tipped Tankard tavern, and they decided to stop in for a meal. While there, they overheard someone say she was knocked over by a cloaked woman with a ashen face who spat vile curses at her. The townsperson says she believes the disappearances are the work of an evil cult who worships a great two-headed beast with tentacles for arms. 

Tateland leaned over to the other two and said quietly, "Demogorgon." Oberyn just stared at him like he was a circus freak. "The recent disappearances spoken of by the youths at the Laughing Horse may be the work of a cult," explained the priest.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Apr 29, 2007)

*Send in the Clowns*

Later when the heroes returned to the Laughing Horse Inn to inquire about the clothes that were to be laundered, Drand furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry, good sirs," he said. "No one's left any deliveries for you."

The three exchanged worried glances. Oberyn searched the stoop outside, but no packages or clothes were waiting for them. "Just wait 'til I find that priest," swore Oberyn.

When they arrived at the temple, they noticed Jenya ministering to the hunched form of Ruphus, a trickle of blood running down his bruised face.

"What happened?" asked Tateland.

Ruphus looked up. "I was acc-ccosted in an alleyway by m-members of the Guild of J-Jesters," he stammered.

Everyone looked at everyone else. Oberyn broke the silence with a laugh. "You were mugged by clowns?"

Jack tried hard to supress a chuckle.

"The Guild of Jesters is merely a front for the local thieves' guild, the Last Laugh," explained Jenya. "They are nothing more than ruffians and ne'er-do-wells who paint their faces half-black and half-white, scaring citizens into giving up their hard-earned coin. Their guildmaster calls himself the Harlequin."

"What did they take from you?" asked Tateland to Ruphus.

"They beat me up, and a woman told me to keep my nose out of business that doesn't concern me."

Jenya broke in. "I assume she meant the investigations into the disappearances at the orphanage. A few people had disappeared in the prior weeks, but this is the first time that children have been targeted. I had sent Ruphus there yesterday to find out how and why. He said there seemed to be no evidence of break-in. "

"Where do these thieves hide?" demanded Oberyn, gripping the green hilt of his still-sheathed longsword.

"No one knows, or at least no one is telling. The keep's garrison knows nothing more than what I've told you. If they did, no doubt Terseon Kellerang would have broken the ring by now."

"I heard a rumour that these disappearances might be the work of a cult dedicated to the Prince of Demons," said Tateland.

"I have heard of no demonic cults active in these parts," said Jenya, "but that doesn't mean it's not true. When Sarcem returns from Griffondale, you can ask him if he has sensed any such evil."

"If the Guild of Jesters doesn't want us looking into the disappearances at the orphanage," said Oberyn with a mischievous sneer, "then that's exactly what we should do."

[sblock=GM Commentary]Finally we reach the true beginning of the AP, more or less... [/sblock]


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## xnosipjpqmhd (May 2, 2007)

*Lock Up Your Daughters*

"The orphanage rests on the corner of Lantern Street and Lava Avenue," said Ruphus, pointing Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland in the right direction. "It is a charcoal-coloured, two-storey building."

As the heroes approached, they examined the building's exterior. The windows on both storeys were tightly shuttered to keep out the rain. Lanterns hung from either side of the oaken front door, which sported a green copper knocker shaped like a smiling gargoyle, its nostrils pierced by a copper ring. Tateland knocked.

The door opened a crack, and the wizened face of an elderly hobbit woman peered out. “Who’s out there, and what are you doing here at this hour?”

"We are here about the missing children," said Tateland.

The woman sighed, and unlatched the door, ushering the trio inside out of the rain nevertheless. “You can come in and look all you want. I don't know what one more set of inspectors is going to uncover. Too many bakers muddle the pie." Then she seemed to recover her manners. "Pardon me, I am headmistress Gretchyn Tashykk."

"What do you mean 'another set?'" asked Oberyn. "Are you referring to the priest Ruphus?"

"He and others. First there were the half-elves, then--"

"Half-elves?"

"Yes, a pair of them," confirmed Gretchyn. "Fario and Fellian, if I remember their names rightly. They came by soon after the disappearances were reported, asking a lot of questions about this and that. Then there were members of the garrison, and then Ruphus, and now you."

"Who did the half-elves say they worked for?"

"They didn't, but they asked a lot of questions, like whether any of the children had connexions to someone named Elethor Ashstaff. I don't know who that is for the life of me."

"What did they look like? How were they dressed?"

"Like travellers, I suppose. They each had a sword, a bow, and a grey cloak. One of them was pale and had short blonde hair. The other was more tanned and had long dark hair. He favoured bright green clothing, if I remember right. 

"In any case, four children were taken, two boys and two girls. None of the other residents or staff heard or saw anything. The orphanage has barred windows and excellent locks protecting its doors. The children are locked into their rooms at night to prevent any mischief. So you see, the circumstances surrounding this crime are exceptional, to say the least.”

"May we search your establishment?" asked Tateland. 

The heroes spent the remaining hours of the evening searching every nook and cranny in the building, but nothing unusual presented itself. The trio failed to uncover any secret doors, broken locks, or other ways that someone could easily enter the building undetected.

"We should stay the night," suggests Jack. "Perhaps the predator will strike again."

"Aye," agreed Oberyn. "We can split up: one in the entryway and another in each of the sleeping rooms."

At first, Gretchyn resisted the suggestion, relenting only when they modify their plan to sleep only in the entry hall.

With little in the way of preparation, the heroes hunker down for the night in the entry hall, with Jack, then Oberyn, then Tateland maintaining a lookout.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (May 13, 2007)

*Motherless Children Have a Hard Time*

     Godsday, Harvester 4.

     Tateland awoke suddenly at the sound of the front door closing. Gretchyn approached, apologising for awakening him. "As you know, it is Godsday. The children must be escorted to the temple for services."

     The priest woke the others. They compared notes with Gretchyn and found that no one had experienced anything unusual during the night. All of the children still in the building were accounted for.

     Oberyn watched while the orphanage staff led the children out the door and off to the temple. He seemed lost in thought, then emerged from his reverie. "Either magic has been used, the locks have been picked, or the abductor was already inside when the doors where shut for the night," opined Oberyn.

     "Magic it may be," said Gretchyn, "but I cannot imagine that one of the staff was involved."

     "Madam, we must consider every possibility," said Tateland. "Who are the staff?"

     "There are five who help me, but Jaromir and Willow don't have quarters here, and they come only occasionally. The other three are Neva the nurse, Temar the cook, and young Patch the janitor."

     "We will need to search their quarters, beginning with yours," demanded Oberyn brusquely.

     Gretchyn was taken aback. "You think I would do this? Your inquiry has gone far enough." She stamped her small foot.

     Oberyn was insistant. "If you are hiding nothing, then you needn't fear a search of your things."

     "You, sir, are overstepping your bounds. Please leave."

     Oberyn ignored her and instead turned to Tateland. "Go to the temple and fetch the priestess," he commanded.

     "You are all done here," said Gretchyn, then she stepped out onto Latern Street to summon the nearest patrol of soldiers. "Guards!"

     Tateland seemed torn. "Jenya will not come. She must attend to Godsday duties."

     "Fetch her!" yelled Oberyn.

     Tateland relented and headed off to the temple just as Gretchyn returned with two soldiers.

     "You fellows need to leave," said one. "Let's not have any trouble."

     Oberyn held his hands to the ceiling. "Does no one care about the missing children?" he cried, flabbergasted. "If another one is abducted, it will be on your heads!"

     "We all care about the children," said Gretchyn firmly, "but who are you to claim a moral right to do as you please in their name?"

     "Brother Tateland represents the Order of St. Cuthbert, your major benefactor" answered Oberyn, "For my part, I am a Tercival, a family that has made large donations to the orphanage."

     "Alek Tercival has made donations," clarified the halfling headmistress. "I've not seen you before."

     The guards were just about to intervene, when the orphanage staff returned, children in tow. Jenya and Tateland accompanied them.

     "Brother Tateland told me there was a disagreement about the way the inquiry is proceeding," said the priestess. She listened patiently while Gretchyn and Oberyn each explained their position.

     "I understand and agree with both of you," said Jenya. "I believe the staff should have a say, and with your leave, headmistress, I will address them."

     When the children had received their mid-morning meal and been led off to other activities, the staff assembled outside the hallway to their quarters.

     Jenya looked each of them in the eye. "Rest assured the Order of St. Cuthbert will find those responsible for taking the children three nights ago, along with all who aided in the act."

     Patch shifted uncomfortably.

     "Now we ask your help," continued Jenya. "If anyone is unwilling to have their personal belongings searched by the honest priests of the Order, they may speak so now."

     No one spoke. Gretchyn opened her mouth as if to speak, but she decided against setting a bad example.

     "Very well," said the priestess. "We will begin with Headmistress Tashykk's room." She nodded to Ruphus, who led Jack and Oberyn into Gretchyn's room. The headmistress stood at the door, watching them rummage through her things.

     Jenya turned to Tateland. "I must go now, but please return to the temple as soon as you are done. I have one last resource at my disposal that may prove helpful."

     Tateland nodded.

     When Jenya left, Patch took Tateland aside. "I didn't hurt no one," he mumbled. "I was just s'pose to watch one of them boys, that's all. I swear I didn't know nothing about them being taken. Please don't tell no one."

     "Someone asked you to watch one of the boys?"

     "yeah, it was an easy 50 eagles. I just had to watch Terrem and make sure nothing happened to him. How could I know he'd go missing?"

     "Who asked you to do this?"

     "Little bloke name of Revis," said Patch. "Revis Twindaggers. Said the Guild of Jesters had an interest in the lad, and he was none too pleased when I told him Terrem was gone."

     "What kind of interest does the Guild have in an orphan?"

     "He didn't say exactly, 'cept it had something to do with his dead parents. That's all, and I weren't about to ask for more."

     "Where did you meet him?"

     "Cross the way at the the Tipped Tankard." Patch began to plead once more. "Please don't tell Headmistress! I don't have no place else to go!"

     Tateland thought for a moment. "I cannot make any promises, but I will see what I can do."

***

     Oberyn's eyes narrowed when Tateland relayed Patch's confession. He announced to Gretchyn and Jenya, "We will search the half-orc's room now."

     Patch was instantly crestfallen as he followed Jack, Oberyn, Tateland, and Ruphus into his tiny room at the orphanage.

     In short order, Tateland upturned a boot, and out spilled a black cloth sack ringing with coin. The tiny profile of a jester's head was stitched into it in white thread.

     Oberyn emptied the gold coins onto Patch's cot. "What do we have here?" His tone was accusatory. "You are in league with the Last Laugh, are you not?"

     Patch began to quake. Everyone was staring at him.

     "Tell us where the children have been taken!" yelled Oberyn.

     "I don't know nothing about it," said Patch.

     "You are just as guilty as if you had taken them yourself!" Oberyn drew his sword.

     Patch backed into a corner and lowered a shaking hand to his belt to withdraw a dagger. "I never done no wrong!" he cried.

     The confrontation ended suddenly when Patch made a break for the door, and Oberyn tripped him. Patch fell with a thump, and the group quickly apprehended him, but they could get no more answers from him than what he had already said to Tateland.

     When Gretchyn saw the coins and heard of Patch's deeds, she was saddened and agreed to summon the soldiers to once more to take him away.

     The search of the remainder of the staff quarters was perfunctory.

***

     "Patch was told to watch a boy named Terrem," recalled Tateland.

     "That would be Terrem Kharatys," said Gretchyn, "one of the four children taken three nights ago."

     "What can you tell us about him and the others?"

     "Terrem is a dour and temperamental lad. His parents died shortly after his birth. 

     "The other boy who disappeared as a young dwur of about 12 years, Deakon Stormshield. He was bright and full of energy. We took him in when he was six after his parents failed to return from a journey to the mountains.

     "The two girls, Evenlyn and Lucinda, were about Terrem's age: eight or nine. Evelyn seemed quiet and sullen most of the time. She came here after her father and mother succumbed to filth fever a few years back. Lucinda by contrast was gregarious but superstitious. She was given up at age four by her poverty-striken mother."

***

     That evening, Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland returned to the Temple of St. Cuthbert to meet with Jenya. She led them into a private meeting chamber.

     "I have decided to use the Star of Justice," she said, "but its clue has proven cryptic."

     Oberyn and Jack looked quizzically at each other. "What is the Star of Justice?"

     "The Star of Justice is a relic from the days of old, granting to the high priest of our temple insight into a vexing problem. While High Priest Delasharn is away, I took it upon myself as acting high priestess to use it's power to divine the location of the children abducted from the orphanage. I wrote down the response." She passed a fresh piece of parchment across to the heroes. On it were written the words:

The locks are key to finding them 
Look beyond the curtain, below the cauldron 
But beware the doors with teeth 
Descend into the malachite 'hold 
Where precious life is bought with gold 
Half a dwarf binds them, but not for long

After briefly puzzling over the meaning of the riddle, the heroes decided to return to the orphanage for one last look at the building's locks. 

     Gretchyn met them once again at the door, having just sent the children to their beds for the night. "As I said before, the orphanage is blessed with the finest of locks. When this place was founded, the Order of St. Cuthbert spared no expense."

     "What is this symbol etched below the keyhole?" asked Jack.

     Gretchyn looked. "That is the maker's mark of Keygan Ghelve. His shop is on Lava Avenue."


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## xnosipjpqmhd (May 31, 2007)

*The Locks Are Key To Finding Them*

It was dark when Oberyn knocked on the door outside Keygan Ghelve's modest lock shop, a two-story building of black stone dominated by a barred bay window displaying all manner of locks, fasteners, and containers.

"Shop's closed, friend," said a gruff voice from inside. "Come back after sunrise."

"We have important business to discuss," called Oberyn, "about the recent disappearances."

"I don't know anything about it," came the answer.

"We need your help regardless," said Oberyn.

After a brief period of silence, the heroes heard the sounds of various locks and chains being unfastened on the other side of the door. What greeted them on the other side had the features a dwarf, but his long legs made him the same height as Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland.

"Half a dwarf?" whispered Tateland to the others.

The smell of logs on the hearth and fresh pipe smoke wafted out to meet the heroes. They entered a cozy room with a burgundy carpet, two padded chairs, and a handsomely engraved mahogany counter. On the opposite wall were dozens--perhaps hundreds--of keys of all shapes and sizes hanging from tiny hooks. 

Keygan walked slowly around to the other side of a tall counter, glancing furtively at the red curtain hanging behind it. "Please be brief," he said, sweat dripping from his brow. "I am very tired and must get some rest." His eyes shifted among the visitors.

"You made the locks for the orphanage," said Oberyn, "where the latest disappearances occurred?"

"Yes," admitted Keygan, "but that's not unusual. I've made locks for half the buildings in the keep."

"Do you know how these locks might be bypassed?" inquired Oberyn.

"I know no one who could pick them," said Keygan, in an offended voice, "if that's what you mean. Though, I suppose, anyone with access to a bit of magic could do it." Despite Keygan's tone of protest, the dwarf seemed to be signaling something to Oberyn with his eyes, motioning to the curtain behind him.

Oberyn sensed the meaning in the dwarf's odd gestures. He nodded and continued to ask hard questions of the locksmith, while simultaneously drawing his sabre as quietly as he could. Tateland limbered up his mace.

Keygan shot back with more objections and complaints, while using a concealed hand to clue in the heroes to something beyond--and above--the curtain. 

Jack strode to the fireplace and transferred flame to his bullseye lantern. Then Jack, Oberyn, and Tateland approached the curtain while Keygan stepped out of the way for them, all the while denying any knowledge of the disappearances and complaining loudly about the lateness of the hour.

Jack parted the curtain. The room beyond was quite dark, though they could see that three chests stood in the centre of the room, a few tables and shelves lined the far wall, and a staircase rose along the left wall. The heroes crept in as quietly as they could manage in their metal gear. Jack kept his lantern covered, and Oberyn motioned to the staircase.

As they crossed the room, something thudded to the floor behind them.

"What the--" Tateland, bringing up the rear, spun around to see the outline of a figure rising up behind him in the darkness. He struck at it with his mace, landing a glancing blow to its shoulder.

Oberyn made his way around Tateland, picking his steps carefully among the chests on the floor. He poked toward the dark figure with his sabre. 

Jack took a step or two onto the staircase and briefly considered leaping headlong onto their shadowy adversary, but he thought better of it, and instead opened the shutter of his lantern. The beam of light jumped around the room as he tried to focus on the struggle, giving the struggle an eerie, otherworldly feel. Once Jack managed to orient the light at the figure fighting with Oberyn and Tateland, he was taken aback by what he saw. The being was bald, grey-skinned, completely bare of clothing, hair, pigment, and gender.

The thing recoiled slightly from the light, and lashed out at Tateland with its rapier, scratching the priest's arm.

In retaliation, Tateland returned a solid blow, caving in the figure's androgenous face. It crumpled to the floor, oozing grey liquid.

"Oh, what have I done!" cried Keygan nervously as he peered through the red curtain. "They'll kill me for sure now."

"What is this creature?" demanded Oberyn.

"I know not what they are called," said Keygan, wringing his hands with worry, "but there are many of them, and others, too, shorter and with hooved feet. They took Starbrow a few weeks ago, and said that if I didn't make keys for them, both he and I would perish!"

Jack approached the dying grey-skinned figure with his lantern, as Tateland spoke a few words to heal his own wound.

"Where do they come from?" asked Oberyn.

Keygan pointed to a section of wall beneath the stairs. "They emerge at night from a secret entrance to the haunted halls of Jzadirune, sometimes with others--shorter ones with hooved feet. It is to that lost place they return with their captives, and it is where, I fear, they hold Starbrow."

"Who is Starbrow?"

"He is a rat and my companion," said Keygan, "He is very intelligent."

"How do you know they haven't already killed him?"

"Starbrow and I share a connexion. I can sense his fear and hunger, and they use him to taunt me."

Oberyn looked to the others. "Let's move this body in case others come."

Keygan led the heroes to his workroom in the back of the shop, as they dragged the bleeding creature by its feet. Meanwhile, Jack examined the rapier that had been wielded by the being.

Tateland pulled Jenya's note and showed it to Keygan. "We have pledged to find and recover the missing folk, and we have received this clue."

Keygan took the note and read it carefully, noting with interest the phrases "doors with teeth" and "malachite hold."

"What does it mean?" asked the priest.

"This may refer to the Malachite Stronghold. Before Cauldron Keep was occupied by men, it was a dwarven fortress. The Malachite Stronghold was the terminus of an underground highway, as well as a bulwark against attack from the denizens of the underdark.

"Above this lay Jzadirune, the workshop of the dwarven wizard-engineers of old. There they produced many wonders of magic and machine, until a sorcerous disease called the Vanishing began to infect their creations. In the end, they were forced to abandon the place.

"Zenith Splintershield and his clan reasserted their claim on the Malachite Stronghold over a decade ago, but he has since left on a quest, and those dark halls remain unknown to me."

"What about this part?" asked Tateland, pointing to the last line of the riddle. "Are you half a dwarf?" 

"Bite your tongue, young 'un," scoffed Keygan. "I've no trace of human in my ancestry, thank you very much." Then he bent, unbuckled some hidden straps, and a now shorter Keygan showed the heroes the two stilts he had been wearing. "I prefer to see customers at eye level."

While the priest and locksmith had been talking, Oberyn had been formulating a plan. "The enemy will learn soon enough that they have been discovered. We must go down to Jzadirune without delay." He turned to Keygan. "You know the place better than we. You must lead us."

"I was only a small boy when last I trod those halls," said Keygan. "I remember hardly nothing, but I will go with you, if I can help undo this evil."

Tateland shook his head. "No, first we should let Jenya know about this."

"Very well," agreed Oberyn. "It would be best if we were fully rested anyway. Notify the priestess while we take turns watching the secret door to see if Keygan receives any more visitors in the night."

"It will only help for a while, but I can place a magical alarm on the portal," offered Keygan.

"I will return very soon," said Tateland.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Jul 3, 2007)

*Insane Clown Posse*

While on his way to the Temple of the Order of St. Cuthbert, Tateland was assaulted by painted-faced ruffians. 

"I guess you didn't learn your lesson," said one of them, tapping a club into his palm.

Tateland unhooked his mace, but soon a gang of four had gathered around him and began beating him to a pulp. Suddenly one of the attackers cried out in pain and fell to the ground, a knife stuck in his back. Then a second knife flew out of the darkness, striking another of the attackers.

Bruised and battered, Tateland tried to get away from the thugs, but he tripped over the fallen one and fell to the ground.

The remaining three ruffians backed off. "We ought to finish you off, priest," said the wounded one, "and if you keep being nosy, we will!" They split up and ran off into the rainy night, laughing insanely.

Tateland picked himself up.

From out of the darkness emerged the mysterious knife thrower. "Are you alright?"

"I will be when I make it to the temple."

"Come on, I'll help you."

"Thank you," said Tateland. "But I can manage."

"Then maybe I should take this street thug to the temple for you."

The two men finished their journey to the temple and carried the now lifeless body inside, where Tateland informed Jenya of the latest assault, and also of the mysterious grey-skinned creature in Ghelve's Locks, and what Keygan had subsequently told him about the rash of kidnappings. Simon listened intently. Jenya healed Tateland, then provided him with a healing potion.

"And you, Simon," she turned to Tateland's saviour. "The Order wishes to thank you for your good deed." She handed him a healing potion as well.

"You two know each other?" asked Tateland. Now that he could see the man in the light of the continual flames within the temple, a look of recognition crossed his face.

Simon nodded. "I drove one of the teams in the caravan you accompanied," nodded the man, introducing himself as Simon Filigree. "I support the faith in my own way. Perhaps I can help you find the missing children."

***

At that moment, Jack, Keygan, and Oberyn were gathered around the dead body in the back room of Ghelve's Locks, when two more grey-skinned figures appeared. One of them yelled words at Keygan and slashed with it's rapier, but the dwarf jumped out of the way.

Jack and Oberyn drew their swords and moved to attack, while Keygan backed up and cast a spell, creating a shimmering vest of force to protect himself.

In moments the souls of the two invaders joined their departed comrade, if those beings have an afterlife.

***

Later, when Simon and Tateland arrived, everyone compared notes on the two encounters that night. 

Tateland offered his healing potion to Jack. "You'll need this before I," he said.

Simon introduced himself to the others. If Oberyn recognized him from the caravan, he didn't acknowledge it.

They piled the dead bodies in front of the secret door, then made their preparations for spending the night.

[sblock=GM Commentary]Simon joined in the second session of the campaign, but I had worked him in as an NPC in the first session (one of the caravan drivers).[/sblock]


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Jul 16, 2007)

*Beware The Doors With Teeth*

Waterday, Harvester 5.

In the morning, Simon was sent out for food, returning with enough trail rations to last the five of them for four days.

Keygan produced an ancient map that he claimed was a map of Jzadirune left to him by his father. Simon poured over it, and he puzzled over the parchment Tateland had given to the locksmith on which was written the strange riddle Jenya received.

The heroes unblocked the secret door and peered into the darkness. Jack lit his bullseye lantern and took the lead. Oberyn, Tateland, and Keygan--bearing another lantern--were in the middle of the procession, while Simon followed behind.

A stone staircase, its steps shrouded with cobwebs and dust, descended twenty feet to a small dark landing. The walls were of fitted stone, and there was an empty iron torch sconce. To the right the stairs descended again to a second landing, turned right again, and continued down to a larger room.

Standing on the second landing, Jack heard strange sounds emanating from the chamber below. "Do you hear that?" he asked the others. "Chirping birds, rustling leaves, and even the faint sound of laughter."

Slowly they descended to a 40-foot-square room from which a slight breeze could be felt, entering perhaps from an open passage in the far wall directly across the room from the stairs. Mounted to the walls around the room were twelve tarnished copper masks, each two feet in height, depicting a smiling dwarf's visage. The soft giggling, rustling, and chirping seemed to pour from the very walls.

Into the left wall were set two large circular portals of wood, framed with a ring of mortared granite stones. The far portal seemed to be closed and bore a strange glyph upon it, while the nearer door appeared to half-open, revealing an iron rim of gear-like teeth. 

"Beware the doors with teeth," mumbled Simon, remembering the words of the riddle.

"Look," said Oberyn. "I see a dim light beyond the crescent-shaped opening of this door." He approached the door cautiously and peered within. The glowing tip of a foot-long iron rod shed enough light to cast lurid shadows on the walls of the room. A dozen small cots and chests lined the walls. Cobwebs blanketed many of the cots and chests, and tiny spiders scurried about. A rough hewn tunnel, circular and about 5 feet in diameter, breached the far wall, and another one just like it had been burrowed into the left-hand wall as well. Stony rubble covered the floor near each tunnel.

First Oberyn tested the door, trying to push it farther open. It budged only slightly, then came to rest where it was again. He stepped into the room, followed by Jack.

"A sunrod," said Oberyn, picking up the wand-like device.

As Jack reached the centre of the room, two of the naked grey-skinned creatures seemed to appear from nowhere on either side of him, though it was clear they had been skulking there the whole time. Their blades flashed, spilling Jack's blood on the floor. 

Oberyn and Jack leapt to riposte, but the two creatures fled immediately, each streaking down a separate tunnel. 

"They are trying to divide us!" called Oberyn. 

The heroes decided not to pursue the fleeing creatures. Instead they retreat to the larger room, and Tateland called upon the name of St. Cuthbert to close Jack's wounds.

"What is this rune?" asked Oberyn, shining the light of the sunrod on the closed gear door.

Keygan examined it. "That is the letter J, probably for Jzadirune."

"Might this small, square aperture in the stone beside the door be a keyhole?"

The locksmith examined it briefly. "It is likely, though I know not what manner of mundane or magical key is required."

"Perhaps I can open it," said Simon, pulling some slender metal tools from his pouch. After a moment of working with the tools in the keyhole, the door rolled open, and from a hidden jet sprayed a brackish green gas. Simon rolled out of the cloud, clawing at his face, hands, and other bits of skin exposed to the vile substance.

Oberyn, too, took a step back to avoid the cloud, and when he did, a gruff voice behind him spoke: "Welcome to Jzadirune! Behold the wonder! But beware, ye who seek to plunder; traps abound and guardians peer beyond every portal, behind every gear."

Oberyn spun around, ready to lop off someone's head, but the voice seemed to come from the unmoving tarnished copper mask on the wall.

Simon uncorked the tiny flask given him by the priestess of St. Cuthbert the night before and drank its contents. Immediately the boils and lesions on his skin diminished. 

Jack carefully made his way around the quickly dispersing green cloud and shone his lantern into the room beyond the newly opened door. More than a dozen cots and small chests were in the dark room, all covered in cobwebs and dust.

Jack and Oberyn moved into the room to investigate.

Oberyn opened a chest and ransacked its contents, finding a moth-eaten wool blanket, some worthless personal effects, and an off-white tabard emblazoned with a curious symbol: a brown gear shape with a yellow, eight-pointed star in its hollow centre.

Jack opened other chests. They all held similar contents.

Keygan examined one of the tabards with interest, then folded it carefully and placed it into his small backpack.

The heroes regrouped and decided not to fall for the shadowy creatures' shrewd tactics. Instead they wandered down the wide corridor that led out of the original large room. This dusty hallway was carved with frescoes depicting dour dwarves clad in chain shirts and helms, brandishing all manner of weapons. In a few feet, the passage turned both left and right, and as Jack shone his lantern beam in each direction, the group saw that both sides of the halls were lined with more round doors, perhaps a dozen all told.

"Well, which way?" asked Oberyn, grumpily.

Simon held up Keygan's map in the light of the dwarf's lantern. "The passageway to the left should open into another chamber."

As the heroes approached, Oberyn could see that the corridor plainly ended in a stone wall, not a chamber as Simon had predicted. "That map is unreliable," he commented.

No sooner had be spoken these words than the floor beneath him opened up, and he fell 20 feet into a spiked pit. Jack caught himself at the last moment, diving backwards to avoid the same fate.

Tateland and Jack peered grimly into the pit. Luckily the sunrod still burned, and they could see the outlines of two bodies at the bottom of the pit. One of these groaned in pain and pulled itself to its feet.

Oberyn picked up the fallen sunrod and looked around the floor of the pit. The corpse of a grey-skinned being was impaled on several spikes, its rapier and crossbow lying nearby. He collected the crossbow and bolts, then climbed out of the pit on a rope tossed down to him by Simon.

Oberyn spoke words of healing and closed Oberyn's wounds, while Jack and Simon inched around the now open pit.

When he reached it, Jack began to search the stone wall at the end of the hallway for a secret doorway. Immediately he jerked back his hand. "The wall!" he exclaimed. "It's not really there." He tested it again, passing his hand right into the stone as if it were composed of air. 

Next Jack summoned his courage and stepped completely through the wall into a chamber thirty feet long and wide, completely bare of furnishings and exits. What drew his attention immediately, however, was the faintly glowing outline of a map on the far wall. It seemed to be an exact copy of the hand-drawn version that Keygan had handed to Simon.

Jack called for the others, and soon everyone stood staring at the map. 

"The two smaller tunnels down which the greyskins fled," mused Simon, "are not shown on the map. Perhaps, like us, those beings don't have keys to these doors, so they dug tunnels to avoid them."

"Then we will follow them," stated Oberyn, "though just because they are newer tunnels doesn't mean they aren't trapped as well."

The group back-tracked to the room in which Jack was attacked by the grey-skins. They selected the far tunnel to explore. This passage seemed to branch off in several directions. Jack led the way and exited from the cramped tunnel into a majestic hall, fully thirty feet high, forty wide, and perhaps a hundred or more long. Eight black marble pillars were carved to resemble dwarven artisans and warriors standing on each others' shoulders, bracing the vaulted roof with their collective strength. The walls were adorned with faded murals depicting dwarves in reverie--playing instruments, dancing, wrestling, drinking ale, and so forth.

What was most amazing were the four bright lights that flickered and danced like animated torchlight, drifting aimlessly about the hall from end to end, changing altitude and direction on a whim.

Closed gear doors and open passageways adorned both the left and right walls, but the group's attention was drawn to the far end of the hall, where it widened to form a chamber around a large circular pool, into which water spilled from the cheshire grin of an enormous dwarven face carved in the stone of the wall.

Oberyn led the way toward the pool, but before he had crossed even half of the distance, a crossbow bolt struck him in the chest and another whizzed past him. He shouted in pain and ducked for cover behind the closest column. Everyone else scattered for cover as well.

"They are shooting from the farthest pillars on either side," called Oberyn to his comrades as he yanked the bitter bolt from his flesh.

They waited, but no further attack came.

Oberyn gritted his teeth, spun out from behind his column and advanced to the next one in line.

At this, the two cloaked figures that had been holding positions behind the last pillars fled across the room to another tunnel hewn into the rock.

Oberyn charged forward, intent on pursuing at their heels, then thought better of it, and waited for the others to catch up. He relinquished the lead to Jack, who used his bullseye lantern to examine each section of the twisting tunnel.

Around the third bend, Jack could see that the tunnel clearly ended up ahead.

"Let me investigate," said Simon, moving cautiously forward. He had taken only a few steps when a crossbow bolt ricocheted off the rough-hewn floor of the tunnel beside him. The tell-tale sound of reloading told him it wasn't a mechanical trap but an ambush. He retreated.

"They are shooting from a hole in the ceiling," said Simon.

The heroes began to form a plan. One they all had their marching orders, Jack proceeded down the tunnel with Oberyn behind him. 

The crossbow fired again, missing its mark a second time. 

At the end of the tunnel, Jack turned and allowed Oberyn, sword drawn, to climb atop him. In the harsh shadows of the room, Oberyn saw a figure directly in front of him reloading its crossbow. Oberyn hacked at it, but was surprised by the other grey-skin, who stabbed at Oberyn from behind. Oberyn tumbled to his right, away from the attack and onto the floor of the small room in which the two grey-skins were making their final stand.

In moments, Simon approached and boosted Jack up into the room as well. The battle was brief, and the grey-skins were slain. Soon the whole group climbed up into the room to have a look. Tateland healed Oberyn's wounds once more.

Patches of green mold grew on the walls and clung to the ceiling. Lying in a heap in the corner were the gutted, putrified remains of an eight-foot-long green worm with multiple legs and eight slimy tentacles sprouting from its bulbous head. Next to it was a pile of entrails pulled from the creature, and on the other side of the room was heap of armour and shields.

"Why did they disembowl this thing?" said Jack, examining the entrails of the giant worm-like thing.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Jul 16, 2007)

*All The World's A Stage*

The heroes wandered back through the tunnel and into the massive hall lit by the dancing lights.

"Hold," said Tateland. "I see more light down this corridor." He pointed the way, and the group proceeded to another large pillared room. 

Though not quite as impressive in size as the last, the chamber was well-appointed, with tattered red curtains dangling from iron rods mounted to the walls and pillars. Four rows of ornately carved stone benches stood in middle of the room, while partially set into the left wall was a raised wooden stage, decrepit with age, which could be reached via two short staircases. Black curtains behind the stage were parted to reveal a wall covered in chipping paint that once showed an elaborate woodland mural. All of this was lit by four lanterns hanging from hooks at each of the four pillars that supported the vaulted 20-foot ceiling.

The corridor through which they entered the room continued on the other side of the room.

"What manner of lanterns are these?" said Tateland, examining the room's primary light sources. "They appear to burn with neither wick nor fuel."

"Handy," said Oberyn, for by this time the sunrod had expired. "I will take one."

Jack, Simon, and Tateland each took one of the magic lanterns as well.

Fearing another ambush, Oberyn searched behind the red curtains in the back of the room.

Jack moved to do the same with the black curtains on the stage, but as he walked across the creaking planks, a trapdoor opened, and a black tentacle snaked out and latched onto his throat! He struck at it with his blade and managed to free himself, hurrying back down the steps.

"What was that thing?" asked Simon.

"I'm not sure I want to know," said Jack, shaken from the experience.

During his search of the rear of the room, Oberyn discovered another rough-hewn tunnel in the right-hand wall. "Here," he called to the others. "More light this way."

After Simon scouted the main corridor and found only the closed gear door he expected to find, the group reassembled near the circular passageway Oberyn had found.

"By taking the magic lanterns, we will leave this room darkened," said Keygan.

Tateland nodded as if he knew what Keygan meant. "The beast 'neath the stage might be kept their only by dint of the light."

Jack set down his magic lantern in front of the stage. "Then I will leave this one, just in case." 

"If it is light the demon abhors," said Jack, "let it have its fill of it." He grabbed up Jack's magic lantern and tossed it into the open trapdoor in the stage. A hollow clank was the only answer.

The party of explorers parted the red curtain and passed into the round tunnel, which immediately turned left and right. Oberyn lead the way toward the flickering light coming from the right-hand passage. 

The room into which it led was littered with dust, debris, dead rats, and broken bits of furniture. A torch burned in a sconce next to another closed gear door.

"This torch is real enough," said Oberyn. "Someone or something was here. Search the place, and take your time."

It wasn't long before Simon and Oberyn noticed a section of the far wall that wasn't flush with the other stones. Simon found a concealed knob and depressed it, and the secret door opened. Oberyn held up his lantern and stepped through. 

The room was lined with bulky wooden trunks, their lids thrown open and their contents disgorged onto the floor: ornate masks, gaudy robes, once-fancy costumes, mock weapons made of now-rotting wood, and similar stage props. A few moth-eaten costumes dangled from coat racks, mannequins, and wall hooks between some heavier props, including a wooden folding screen painted with stars, a stuffed wolf, and a wooden sun carved with a grinning face. A gear door on the opposite wall was the only exit.

Something covered in fur leapt from the shadows, its face that of a wolf! Oberyn reacted quickly, cutting it down with a stroke of his long sword. He steadied his lantern over the fallen form.

"This is no wolf-creature," he said, tearing away the being's mask with the point of his sword. "It is another of the greyskins, masquerading as an animal."

"Look at its skin," said Tateland. "The light of my lantern almost shines right through it."

"We should search this room thoroughly," said Oberyn, and that's just what they did for the next hour, though they failed to find anything that seemed important.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Jul 20, 2007)

*King Nothing*

"There is still the left-hand tunnel," said Simon.

The heroes backtracked and proceeded down the left-hand tunnel, though no light was visible ahead this time. 

At another fork in the tunnel, Oberyn decided to stay to the right, and he emerged into a small, rubble-strewn chamber. Most of the detritus was heaped next to another tunnel that exited the room on the left, while the only other exit was a closed gear door. From the wall next to the door protruded an iron lever in the down position.

Oberyn couldn't resist himself. He pulled the lever up. Nothing happened. He shrugged and led the group through the next tunnel, which exited into a ten-foot by thrity-foot hallway capped by closed gear doors at either end. "Dead end."

"Let us go back and try the left fork of the tunnel," suggested Simon, holding the map in the light of his lantern. "I think it will lead us to this area," he said, pointing.

The group emerged from the tunnels on the lowest level of a large room split into three levels by marble staircases. The middle level was merely a landing from which the higher level could be reached, but the wall of the landing was adorned with a laughing dwarven face carved in bas-relief. On the highest level, the heroes could see two pillars sculpted to resemble petrified trees, and between them a graven throne upon which rested an elderly dwarf wearing a silver crown. His soft snoring echoed throughout the room. 

"Here you go, dwarf," said Oberyn to Keygan. "It's one of your folk."

Keygan took in the surroundings uneasily and was too timid to advance by himself, so Oberyn climbed cautiously to the landing. 

Then the stone face on the wall became animated! "If you wish an audience with the king," it intoned, "place your finest coin in my mouth." The face stopped moving, the echoes of the speech died away, and the king went on snoring.

Oberyn produced a gold coin from his pouch and flicked it into the gaping mouth on the wall. He heard it plink against the stone a couple times, but nothing else seemed to happen.

Simon, Oberyn, and Keygan climbed to the top level of the room and approached the throne. As they did so, the king stirred ever so slightly, and the heroes heard him whisper, "Betrayed we are by our own magic. One by one we fade away. Jzadirune's lost! Oh, how tragic! We curse the vanishing day."

Simon reached out a tentative hand to awaken the dwarven king from his slumber, but his hand passed right through the image to touch the stone chair behind.

"He's just an illusion," said Keygan in wonder.

"But this finely-carved throne is not," said Simon, and he began searching it.

Oberyn moved to the back wall of the room, which was carved with frescoes depicting a complex array of gears. He ran his hands along the stone, comparing it with that of the other walls. "This wall seems different, as if it was constructed later or done hastily."

"What is this?" said Simon as he opened a hidden compartment in the throne's armrest. Within glittered a bed of gold coins and two bars of silver, each the length of a human hand andcut with various notches and holes. Runes were ingraved on their ends. 

"Might these be keys?" Simon examined the silver bars while Jack moved in to count the coins. 

Keygan looked on with great interest. "Aye, keys of Jzadirune."

Two gear doors led away from this upper level, and one of them bore a rune that matched one of the keys.

"Good fellows," said Simon, "I believe we can begin unlocking some doors." The others gathered round as Simon inserted the key into the lock of one of the gear doors. 

“74 . . . 75 . . . 76.” Jack finished stacking the gold coins on the edge of the throne. When he heard the grating of the opening gear door and saw everyone leaving him, he quickly shoved the stacks into his sack and caught up.

Beyond the door was a very long octagonal gallery, thirty feet wide and lined with twenty web-shrouded pedestals. The walls showed signs of hanging once bore tapestries and other fixtures, but nothing now remained on display in the room.

Simon didn't have a key for the gear door on the opposite wall, so the heroes descended two flights of stairs and walked down a hallway to return to the hall with the dancing lights. The gear door on the other side of that hall bore the same rune as one of Simon's keys. 

The gear door opened with a rattle, and Oberyn led the way into the small room beyond, which was stacked with long-disused crates and casks. A ladder led up to a loft area, containing a cabinet and a heavy wooden trunk. A lengthy search turned up various supplies, but nothing that seemed to be of great value.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Jul 24, 2007)

*Cum On Feel The Noize*

"Surely these keys can open some of the doors in the long hall near the entrance," said Simon. 

"Very well," agreed Oberyn, remembering the hall in which he discovered the spiked pit, "but you lead."

Simon shrugged and led the way back through the dancing lights, the cramped tunnel, the half-open gear door, the chamber of masks, and finally to the hall of doors. He carefully led the way up and down, comparing each door's symbol with those on the keys he held. At the far end of the right-hand hall was a match.

"This is the only one that bears the same sigil," said Simon, inserting the key into the slot next to the door. The door rolled aside, revealing a small room, empty save for four decrepit cots, four empty wooden chests, and a wooden dresser. Everything was draped in cobwebs.

Oberyn spent several minutes searching the contents of the room closely but failed to find anything of interest. "Well, what now?" said Oberyn, clearly exasperated with the empty, maze-like halls of Jzadirune.

Simon studied Keygan's map. "All of the rooms we have explored thus far have been within the southwestern quarter of the complex. Perhaps we should return to the room where we found the sunrod, and proceed through the greyskins' eastern tunnel, which we haven't yet explored."

The heroes tramped back through the chamber of masks to the room beyond the half-open gear door.

"I will lead this time," said Jack. He pushed to the front of the group, holding his bullseye lantern in one hand and his rapier in the other.

The round, debris-strewn tunnel led due east for what seemed like several minutes of walking. Finally, there was a dogleg, and the tunnel divided to the left and right. 

Jack shone his light down both tunnels but saw nothing to draw him in either direction. "Which way?"

"Try left," suggested Simon.

Jack turned and dutifully advanced down the tunnel, wary for any sign of danger. When he approached a bend in the tunnel, he heard some words shouted ahead of him, though he couldn't make out their meaning. He stopped and listened closer, which was a mistake, because at that moment, the tunnel reverberated with a low, booming sound so fierce it stunned the line of heroes as it passed through them and echoed down the hall.

Several members of the group began shouting questions and directions, but few could hear their own words let alone those of the others. Their hearing returned soon enough, but now their words were muffled by the whirring of machinery ahead. 

Jack walked forward, heedless of the fear that gnawed at him. When he got to the bend in the tunnel, he saw that a room lay before him, dark and empty. The whirring sound was very close.

He was struck! For a split second he saw the spinning metal object reflected in the light of his lantern as it tore into his chest, splattering his blood on the walls all around him. Then it disappeared again. The experience was so unusual he very nearly panicked, but with courage he steadied himself and ordered the line of adventurers to retreat.

Whatever had struck him didn't seem to advance into the tunnel; the heroes heard the clank of metal in the room ahead.

Tateland traded places in line so that he was next to Jack, and he called on the might of St. Cuthbert once more to close Jack's wound.

"Okay, not left," admitted Simon.

Oberyn took the lead as the heroes performed an about-face and explored the tunnel leading south. One branch of the tunnel led into a large open expanse of forest. At first the explorers wondered if they had exited from the underground city. They could plainly see four great trees sprouting from a grassy expanse, their leafy crowns fanning out 20 feet overhead to form a roof of branches through which rays of sunlight filtered. A gentle zephyr caused the leaves to rustle, and the sound of birds chirping was clearly evident.

However clever the illusion, it failed to hide the darkened dungeon corridors beyond two archways in the brambles and thickets that formed the makeshift walls of the chamber, and the greenery failed to hide the gear door on the opposite side of the room. Oberyn reached down to feel the grass and felt only the set stone floor of Jzadirune, dead and cold despite its verdant appearance.


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## xnosipjpqmhd (Jul 30, 2007)

*Jeepers Creepers*

Oberyn led the group through an archway in the brambles to the left. Now they stood in another long stone chamber with a vaulted ceiling, dark except for the light cast by the heroes' lanterns. Perhaps once a dining hall, it was now filled only with the wreckage of what once must have been fine furniture. Two web-shrouded iron chandeliers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, while a third, its chain severed, lay amid the debris on the floor. Two gear doors were set into the left and right walls, and an archway opened to a hallway at the far end of the room.

"One of our keys matches this door," said Simon. He inserted the key, and the door opened.

The room was thirty feet square and might once have been a kitchen. Two blackened stone hearths filled the far corners of the room, while stone shelves, barren and dusty, covered the wall between them. In the middle of the room were two stout wooden tables covered in old webs, while against the wall to the right rested a dilapidated wooden cabinet on the verge of collapsing under its own weight.

Into the left wall was cut another round tunnel, and near the opening were the shriveled husks of three enormous spiders.

The heroes entered the room, unsurprised at its run-down appearance. Oberyn used the point of his blade to search through the dust and webbing on the tables. Simon shone the light of his undying lantern on the blank section of wall to his left.

Jack opened the creaking doors of the cabinet, and the whole thing tumbled forward onto him. He cried out in pain as shelving and clay dishware battered against him and shattered into a million pieces on the ground.

It was at this point that two figures no taller than Keygan emerged from the fireplaces with steel blades drawn, their faces shrouded with black cloaks. Hissing, they swung their long knives, missing Oberyn but cutting into the already-wounded Jack.

With two quick strokes, Oberyn neatly removed both their heads, and the threat was ended. As each creature fell to the floor, its body erupted in crimson flames.

“What are these things?” asked Tateland, watching the bodies burn. They were the size and shape of dwarves, though thinner, paler, and with furry hooved legs. “They appear half-devilish.”

Oberyn looked suddenly at Tateland, then looked away again.

Jack slumped against the table, beaten and bleeding. He pulled the potion Tateland had given him that morning and gulped it down.


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