Jodo Kast's Savage Tidings (Updated July 9, 2007)

An Unexpected Party

The halflings Rubbumba and Zhandlegarri relaxed in their humble, but comfortable, living quarters, sipping herbal tea and trying to recover after their brief and harrowing adventure in Shadowshore.

"I never want to see a rat again in my life," said Zhandle with an involuntary shudder. Rubb stroked her hair gently. He suspected that his wife would harbor a life-long phobia for rats. At one point back on the garbage scow, the little wizard had been practically covered with the vermin, and even had to squash one of the offending vermin with her spellbook.

"Those thugs, the Lotus Dragons, had quite a nefarious plot. Through pay-offs and intimidation, they virtually shut down the garbage collectors' and sewer-workers' guilds. Had we and our new friends not interfered, they would have crushed the ratcatchers' guild as well, plunging all of Shadowshore into rat-infested, disease-plagued chaos."

Rubb grew solemn as he mentioned the friends who helped in their adventure. The boy Kelvin, so young and frightened -- in the end it was his sacrifice that saved them all. The flames within him covered their escape from the garbage scow and the murderers based there.

Rubbumba's musings were interrupted by an unexpected knock at the door. Looking through the peephole, the thief and part-time fungi-gatherer saw a wizened halfling woman.

"Hello, can I help...?"

"Brave Rubbumba! I'm so proud of you and Zhandlegarri. Sasserine's halfling community is abuzz with your exploits. You should hear the tales your Uncle Weston is telling anyone who will listen."

"Wh-who are you?" Zhandle half-asked and half-sneezed from over Rubb's shoulder, then nervously straightened the glasses on her nose.

"Oh right, quite sorry about that. I'm Kora. Kora Whistlegap. I'm in the service of the Vanderboren family. Well, just Lavinia Vanderboren now really. Quite tragic about her parents, you know.... But no time for that now! Lavinia asked me to find heroes, and heroes I have found! As soon as I heard about your adventure I knew you would be perfect. And, I must say, it will do me right proud to show Lavinia that halflings can be every bit as heroic as bigger folk. Oh, but look at the time, I really must run. See you tomorrow evening!"

The halfling woman turned and began to race off as Rubb stared wide-eyed, trying to digest the rambling invitation.

"Wait!" cried Zhandle, stopping the woman in her tracks. "Tomorrow evening?"

"Oh, right, quite right, so sorry. Forgot to give you -- THIS!" Kora thrust a small, rolled scroll into Zhandle's hand. "And now I'm off, others to invite to the party, you know." And with that, the woman was gone.

* * *

Jouko roamed the dockside aimlessly. He had just come back into port after his last job at sea. It had been a rather uneventful tour on the Darkmaiden's Dance, a merchant caravel hauling coffee and spices grown on the vast plantations outside of Sasserine. He supposed that he should begin inquiring for work, booking his next voyage. Maybe another stretch of honest sailoring work. But maybe, he thought with an emerging twinkle in his eye, something a bit more -- adventurous. He would have to find another job eventually, after all. He had paid nearly every copper earned on his most recent voyage to settle old gambling debts.

At the moment, though, work was far from his mind. His thoughts turned instead to cold ale and maidens fair (as his thoughts tended to do). Well, maybe warm, stale draught. And maybe naughty wenches, not virtuous maidens. And maybe not so fair, really -- but enough drink would remedy that. His mind conjured an image of a buxom barmaid, foamy beer spilling forth from the large mugs she carried in each hand, her voluptous bosom spilling forth from her scandalously low-cut dress. In his daydream, he could hear the barmaid calling his name. "Jouko! Jouko! Juoko...!?" He never saw the wizened halfling woman until after he tripped over her and the two lay sprawled in a knotted mess. A few nearby dockworkers paused in their labors to laugh heartily.

"J-J-Jouko?" The halfling woman asked. One of her arms reached toward the sky, clutching a small, tightly rolled scroll. Jouko hastily detached himself, stood, and eyed the little woman suspiciously.

"Yeah, that's me. Who be askin'?"

"I work for the Lady Vanderboren. She has use for someone with your ... unique skills. Someone who knows his way around a ship, and is accustomed to dealing with folk who may be less than reputable."

Vanderboren. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. This Lady Vanderboren character was obviously some sort of noble, which of course meant that Jouko would despise her. Yet the halfling's invitation carried with it a hint of something unsavory, something perhaps more daring and adventurous than his recent employment. The halfling extended the scroll to him.

"Well," she said, standing and straightening her rumpled dress. "May I tell the Lady to expect your company tomorrow eve?"

The midday sun glinted off his crooked gold tooth as Jouko smiled broadly. "Ye can tell the lady I'll feast her table."

A Noble In Need

Rubbumba and Zhandlegarrii easily found Vanderboren Manor in the eastern section of the Merchant District. The seven-foot high stone wall surrounding the estate was impossible to miss, as was the towering, gothic three-story house that dominated the grounds within. Leering gargoyles and capering nymphs festooned the eaves of the manor's roof, and well-placed trees afforded the manor grounds a pleasant buffer from the bustle of the city. The front gates had been left open. A human woman waited at the gates, surveying the manor house and grounds. She was rather tall and stood with a proud, noble bearing. Her skin was somewhere between black and bronze, and her wild, dark hair was highlighted with glints of copper and bronze. She wore very minimal hide attire and a tall wicker shield strapped to one arm. A scimitar was slung low on her other side. A necklace of fearsome-looking teeth strung on a hide cord decorated her neck. Rubb guessed that she was a native of the Amedio Jungle, that wild inland beyond the city proper and outlying plantations of Sasserine.

“This must be the place, dear heart. Come, let us enter.” Taking Zhandle by the arm, Rubb strode up to the tall woman and presented his invitation.

The woman looked down at the halflings, her smoldering dark eyes flecked with copper. After a moment, she produced a similar invitation from a hide pouch at her side. “Well met, then, friends. I am Johari. It appears we are all guests of the Lady Vanderboren.” Her voice was throaty and her accent exotic.

“Well,” called a salty voice, “look who be comin’ ta dinner!” Jouko half-walked, half-stumbled towards the party assembled at the gate.

Rubb put a protective arm around Zhandle’s waist, his other hand edging toward the hilt of the dagger he wore at his side. “More pirates,” he said, gritting his teeth and ready for danger.

“Pirates?! Where?” bellowed Jouko, looking about in feigned surprise.

“He does look rather … piratey,” whispered Zhandle.

“What are you about, scoundrel?” challenged Rubbumba.

“Well, I’m about three sheets t’ the wind, wee lass!”

“Lass? LASS?! Why I … you … I am Rubbumba! Slayer of werebeasts, master herbalist, and protector of maidens fair!” sputtered Rubb. He looked quickly about, cheeks flushed, until his eyes fixed on Zhandle. He tightened his embrace and kissed her dramatically.

“Oooohh.” It was now Zhandle’s turn to blush mightily.

Jouko chuckled, a sound that was somehow both jolly and menacing, and punctuated with the odd hiccup. He pulled a slip of paper from within his sweat-stained shirt and waved it before him. “This here writ says I be dinning with the lady of da manor.”

“Very well then, scoundrel” said Johari, with only the slightest hint of humor. “Tonight, we dine in Vanderboren Manor.”

Johari turned and strode purposefully to the front door, the sailor and halflings in tow. Jouko grinned broadly down at Rubb, displaying his gold tooth along with the gummy spaces where teeth had been. Rubb wrinkled his nose, clenched Zhandle’s forearm tightly, and quickened his pace.

Shortly after knocking on the imposing front door, the party was greeted by a wizened halfling woman -- the same one who had delivered their invitations. “Greetings! Thank you all for joining us this evening. Please, step inside the atrium. The Lady Vanderboren shall be with you shortly.” The halfling woman gave a sly wink and smile to Zhandlegarri, and patted Rubbumba proudly on his upper arm as she ushered the party inside.

Inside, Jouko let out a low whistle. “Fine digs,” he muttered, though he frowned at some of the paintings of exotic ports. One painting in particular raised the gooseflesh on his arms, though he couldn’t say why. He took a shot from his flask, wiped his mouth with the back of his filthy hand, and promptly forgot about the paintings.

Rubb scowled at the smelly pirate and guided Zhan past him. However, she had soon disengaged herself from Rubb’s embrace for a closer inspection of the atrium’s décor. Zhandle turned in place, gazing up at the art, and knocked a potted fern from its stand. Rubb barely caught it before it hit the floor. He quickly ushered Zhandle to a bench, where he hoped she would cause less damage.

As they waited to be summoned, four figures emerged from the dining hall and headed their way. Kora raced behind the figures, which included a jaunty male half-elf dressed in leather armor and armed with a half-dozen daggers of different shapes, a dark-skinned dwarf with a sour expression dressed in green and brown robes and clutching a large curved spear, an attractive but haughty-looking woman dressed in dark purple robes and with a tattoo of a crescent moon on one cheek, and lastly, a tall and handsome man dressed in polished breastplate carrying a bastard sword. The mercenaries seemed to have little time or interest in the band assembled in the atrium, although the tall man did stop to size them up for a moment before announcing, "Hmm. You must be the help Lavinia's bringing in to do the chores. Best of luck."

After the mercenaries had gone, Rubbumba pulled Kora aside. “What was that all about? Who were those people?”

“Those are the Jade Dragons, the Vanderborens’ regular help. Never mind them. The Lady will see you now.” Kora opened the door into the private dining hall. The hall was comfortable and cozy, softly lit by wall-mounted lanterns. A window overlooked the manor's central courtyard and the carpet was thick and soft. A large portrait hung on the wall, a fine work depicting a handsome young man with a short beard. Standing before the portrait was an attractive human woman wearing a long, flowing blue dress. She smiled as the party entered, and introduced herself as Lavinia Vanderboren.

Jouko gave the portrait a double-take – he had seen the man before, perhaps as long as a year ago. It had been in a seedy tavern in Shadowshore. The man had bragged about his noble birth, mentioned something about the family fortune being his someday, and then ordered several rounds of drinks for the bar. As Jouko recalled, the man had later slinked away without paying his sizable tab. Jouko quickly pushed the memory aside, however, as he feasted his eyes upon the Lady Vanderboren.

“Welcome, and thank you for accepting my invitation.” Lady Vanderboren and Zhandle exchanged pleasantries, while Jouko ogled the Lady and hiccupped a greeting. Unused to so much public interaction, Rubb fidgeted nervously and clung to Zhandle’s arm. Though the gesture was meant to appear protective, in reality Rubb was comforted by having Zhandle near.

“As you may have heard, I recently inherited my parents' estate. Along with this fine house, unfortunately, came a fine amount of debt owed the Dawn Council, the harbormaster, and quite a few guildhalls. It seems my parents, for all their success as adventurers, were not as skilled at finance as one might expect. If I'm to get these taxes paid, I'll need to access my family's vault under Castle Teraknian.

“And that's the problem, you see. The vaults are magically locked -- keyed to special signet rings. Both of my parents had these rings, at least, until recently. My mother lost hers a few months ago. She arranged for a replacement, but it won't be done for another month or so, too late for me. Which leaves my father's ring. He never wore it -- he didn't believe men should wear jewelry. He kept it hidden somewhere on his ship, the Blue Nixie.

“The problem there is that the harbormaster has seized the ship until someone pays for the last four months of mooring. I've paid fines to the man the harbormaster's put in charge of my ship, a brute named Soller Vark. Yet when I went to claim my ship, Vark's men wouldn't let me board, claiming that I hadn't yet paid the fines. I spoke to Vark again and he denied ever receiving my payment. My complaints to the harbormaster have fallen on deaf ears -- he's a doddering old fool who trusts his man and won't relent.”

Jouko scratched his head, then examined the grease and dandruff beneath his nail thoughtfully. Soller Vark was known in the harbor as a pompous braggart, but a man of some skill with the blade. “I hear o'this man, Vark.”

“Vark and his men are up to something on my ship, I know it. What I need is to find out exactly what they're up to. Unfortunately, Vark's not the type to react well to diplomacy or logic. I need someone who speaks his language ... which is where you come in. If you can find out what he's using my ship for, or even better, recover the money I paid him, I'll pay each of you 200 gold in return once I've access to my vault.”

“What language does this Vark speak?” Zhandle inquired. Jouko interrupted before anyone could respond.

“Two hunnad ye say, how much ye pay Vark?”

“I paid the swine 100 platinum.”

Rubbumba coughed, and Jouko grinned brightly. “We just have ta see 'bout finding that purse now, won’t we?”

“I assure you, Lady, my wife and I will do our best to retrieve your purse. And,” Rubbumba scowled at Jouko, “it will be just as full as it was when you last saw it.”

Zhandle tugged at Rubb’s sleeve. “You remember I get seasick, right? And we still don’t know whether we speak the same language as this Vark character….”

Johari spoke for the first time since entering the manor. “This Vark sounds like worthless scum, typical of so-called ‘civilized’ humanity. But what has this to do with Johari?”

“I have reason to believe that Vark is involved in the smuggling of exotic animals, though I cannot prove it to the satisfaction of the watch.”

Johari’s jaw tightened at the mention of smuggling, and she nodded slowly. “I will do this.”

“Thank you all. I knew I could rely on you. Serve me well, and there may be future work in it for you.”

Jouko cleared his throat loudly. “Yer note mentioned dinner....” Rubbumba perked up, and Zhandlegarrii nodded enthusiastically. Lavinia Vanderboren apologized for placing business before the meal. Soon, servants had filled the large table with spiced meats, cheeses, freshly baked bread, exotic fruits and fine wine. It was the grandest meal Jouko had ever seen. Before long, Rubb had consumed more than he ever had in one sitting, Jouko was deep in his cups, and Zhandle wore a broad array of stains in various shapes, sizes and colors.

Through a mouthful of cheese, Rubbumba asked, “Who'f the guy wiff vuh friwwy collar?”

Lavinia followed his stare to the portrait on the wall. After a long pause, she sighed. “That is my brother, Vanthus.”

Jouko raised his goblet, spilling wine on Rubb. "To yer brother then." Lavinia smiled, but it was a mirthless gesture. Jouko didn’t seem to notice, as he drank deeply from his cup, and then cried, “Splice t’ mainbrace!”

Jouko asked how long ago Lavinia had paid Vark. “Over a week ago. I approached the watch and the government with my complaints, but unfortunately I have no proof of wrongdoing. It was foolish to hand over the money to Vark without allied witnesses.”

“Wouldn't help ya none anyway, sweatheart.”

Soon after it was decided that the party had enjoyed too much food and drink to pay a surprise visit to the Blue Nixie. Kora Whistlegap showed Rubb and Zhandle to a luxurious room in the manor. Jouko declined the invitation to sleep at the manor, referencing some business in the harbor he needed attend. Johari elected to make camp on the manor grounds, beneath sky and stars.

That night, Jouko hit the harbor in search of information about Soller Vark and the Blue Nixie. He learned that Vark was a disagreeable bald man with a jagged scar running down one arm, a wound he sustained in a bar fight but which he claimed was gifted to him in a battle with a hook-handed pirate. He also scouted out the Blue Nixie. According to Lavinia, the Blue Nixie was docked at pier five in the Merchant District. Alas, it became apparent to Jouko that the Blue Nixie was not docked at the pier at all, but was in fact moored to a float about 100 feet from the pier's end. After watching for a short while, he observed at least three different thugs patrolling the main deck. None of them appeared to be Vark. Jouko finished the night passed out beneath a table at a nearby tavern.

Trouble on the Blue Nixie

Kora Whistlegap knocked gently at the door to the room in which Rubbumba and Zhandlegarri slept. Hearing no answer, she tried again, a bit more forcefully. Finally she opened the door just a little and peered in. To her dismay, she saw Rubb lying on the floor, a large egg-shaped bump apparent on his bald noggin. She hurried over to rouse him.

“Master Rubbumba, are you all right?”

Rubb opened one tired eye, touched the painful knot rising on his head, and realized he was on the floor. He gave Kora an embarrassed smile. “Um, all right, yes, thank you.” He leapt up and found his pants. Zhandle stirred in bed. Soon the two were clothed and followed Kora downstairs for breakfast.

“Are you okay, Rubb?” Zhandle asked soothingly.

Rubb’s entire face and head flushed bright red. “We shall never speak of this again.”

The two joined Johari for a small, but satisfying breakfast. When they were finished, the tall woman stood. “Let us attend to these smugglers. If they have harmed but one of nature’s creatures, they shall regret it dearly.”

The three companions found Jouko already at the pier. Earlier that morning a barkeep had found him asleep under a table, and tossed him rudely onto the street. He had been watching the Blue Nixie ever since.

“Top o da’ morn to ya,” said Jouko, blowing a kiss in Johari’s direction. “Miss me, lass?”

“Ah, you look even uglier by daylight. But I’m glad to see you, nonetheless. I feared you’d be drunk or dead in some gutter, and we’d be a man short.”

“So, where is this ship?” asked Rubb.

“That be the Nixie there, off da pier about a hundred paces. Up for a swim?”

One thug, a human male, was visible on the quarterdeck, leaning idly against the ship's wheel. “So much for sneaking aboard, then,” mumbled Rubb.

“There be at least three aboard.”

Zhandlegarri whispered to Rubbumba. “He's not thinking of swimming is he? I can only dog paddle.”

Rubbumba patted Zhandle’s hand. “What is your plan then, scoundrel?”

“Of course I be talkin o'swimming!”

Zhandlegarrii turned pale.

Rubbumba pondered the several small rowboats tied off to the pier. “My love is not one for swimming, but I have an idea! Nobody would suspect foul play from a small rowboat with nought but a pretty, young lost halfling maiden inside. The rest of us can swim in behind her boat and board the Blue Nixie while the thugs are distracted.”

“Perhaps I can offer a distraction more to the liking of these scurvy dogs?” said Johari. Without hesitation, she shamelessly peeled the hide armor away from her firm breasts. She stepped into a dinghy and gestured for Zhandle to join her. Blushing, Zhandle gulped and boarded the dinghy with Rubb’s help. Jouko deftly untied the boat, muttering something about stealing the craft in broad daylight. Johari took up the oars and pushed off toward the Nixie.

Jouko, staring blatantly after Johari, took two quick strides to the end of the pier, jumped off, and entered the water in a perfect dive. Rubb jumped in after him, clutching his nose with one hand and making quite a splash. The strong current threatened to flush him out to sea, but Jouko extended a hand, caught Rubb by the collar, and pulled him along.

Zhandlegarri looked to Johari’s heaving bosom as the exotic woman pulled hard on the oars. She then looked down at her own breasts. She strained to unbutton the high collar of her dress, finished one button, blushed at the simple act and left it at that. As the dinghy neared the Blue Nixie, the thug on the quarterdeck called out. "Who goes thar … why hello there, beauties!"

Jouko drew a quick breath and dove under water, pulling Rubb with him. The two stayed hidden from view, angling toward the ship’s bow.

Zhandlegarrii waved her hanky, nearly tumbling out of the boat. Johari called out lustily to the thug. “Hello sailor! I know it can be so lonely out at sea. And since it seems your captain won't let you come into port to satisfy your needs, I thought the least we could do was bring satisfaction to you.” Zhandle put a hand to her mouth and mumbled, “Oh dear!” Rubbumba nearly choked on a mouthful of sea water.

The thug stared at Johari's firm, bronzed breasts. "Ah, not many like ye about the harbor, that's fer sure. And the little one too, eh? Half-price, I'm thinkin', harrr!"

Zhandlegarrii opened her mouth wide in shock at the vulgar comment. “Half-price?!” she harrumphed.

“We’re a team,” teased Johari. “One price includes everything.”

“Um, yeah,” said Zhandlegarrii. “I could, um, you like, erm, you know….” Zhandle began counting on her fingers. “But I don’t do that, or that of course, and certainly not that….”

The thug rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Boys, look at this." Two more thugs appeared near the rail on the main deck. "Vark would be pissed, but he still be sleepin.'"

Jouko had to hold onto Rubb tightly as the halfling sputtered and kicked. Jouko guided Rubb to some ropes out of the thug’s line of sight, and began climbing aboard.

“What do you say, boys?” called Johari. “Bring us up and we'll take care of the three of you!"

The first thug nodded at the others. “All right then, but we have to keep it quiet.” The thugs on the main deck lowered ropes for Johari and Zhandle and began pulling them quickly on board.

“Oh, they’ll be quiet enough with their mouths full,” called one of the thugs as he helped Zhandle over the rail.

“That’s quite enough” muttered Rubb as he climbed a rope up the side of the ship. He lunged over the rail and bellowed, "That's my wife you're talking about, villain – and she's worth full price, nothing less!" Jouko moaned and nimbly leapt aboard the Nixie.

The thugs appeared startled. Though they all carried crossbows, none were at the ready. Zhandle began quietly casting a spell, hoping to go unnoticed. The nearest thug, however, swung at her with his unloaded crossbow. The weapon narrowly missed the top of her skull. As she finished the spell, she quietly said the word, “Sleep.” The thug’s eyes glazed over and he dropped to the deck like a sack of potatoes.

In the confusion, Johari swiftly drew her scimitar and swung it in a wide arc, cutting deeply into the chest of the thug nearest her, a vile man with an eye-patch. Seeing his opportunity, Rubb raced across the deck and swung his short-sword with all his might. The attack caught the injured thug unawares, striking deep into his thigh and sending up an arterial spray of blood. The man collapsed in writhing pain on the deck and almost immediately lost consciousness.

The thug on the quarterdeck screamed, “Ye filthy sneakin’ treacherous bitch!” He leveled his crossbow at Johari and let loose a bolt that sunk into her left shoulder, just above her wicker shield. The thug then screamed a cry of alarm. “All hand adeck, we’ve been boarded!”

Jouko sprang into action, pulling his spiked chain from around his neck as he leapt to the base of the stair leading to the quarterdeck. Jouko sent his chain swinging in a low arc at the thug’s feet. Jouko pulled the chain tight, and the thug fell hard on the deck. Without pause, Jouko sent his chain into action again. This time, the chain found the man’s throat, neatly snapping his neck. He flopped like a fish for an instant, and then lay still.

Before they could enjoy their victory, the companions heard the sound of activity below deck, and more cries of alarm!

To be continued...

Metagame Character Information

I've attached the character write-ups provided by the players for Rubbumba, Zhandlegarri and Jouko here, if anyone's interested. Also, thought I would let everyone know that we are playing using Fantasy Grounds. One of the great things about FG is that it keeps a running chat log. This has made for pretty easy story hour write-ups thus far -- for the "Noble In Need" and "Trouble on the Blue Nixie" entries, I largely just cut-and-pasted in the chat log. I edited a bit for flow, and to place the story in past tense, and cut out the chunky meta-stuff. However, all of the dialogue and events actually occurred as depicted. I'm lucky to have some very good players (with another to join next session).

Rubbumba (halfling rogue 1)

Rubbumba is a young adult halfling --25 years old-- living in the Merchant District of Sasserine with his young wife, Zhandlegarrii. At 3'8" and 38 lbs, he is rather tall and stocky for a halfling. He's not all that great looking, but Rubbumba is still concerned about his appearance. He never had any luck taming his wild mop of thick, brown hair, so he just shaves his head bald. He has piercing blue eyes, and rather thick, bushy eyebrows. His wide forehead and strong jaw give him a tough, serious look.

Rubbumba is all about bravado and machismo around others, but his love for Zhandlegarrii is the true heart and soul of his existence. While he might spend his evenings in the tavern boasting about the three hobgoblin muggers he fought off single-handedly on the way home from work ... he wouldn't hesitate to walk a mile out of his way to pick flowers for his absent minded sweetheart. She has him, in essence, whipped ... and he knows it.

Rubbumba is an Herbalist by trade. He is quite knowledgeable about all types of flora and their medicinal and alchemical properties, but his real area of expertise is in fungus and molds. The years he spent crawling and climbing into dark, hard to reach areas has made him quite nimble. Often, such places are home to less-than-savory creatures and individuals, so he also has achieved some measure of skill with a blade and bow.

Rubbumba works for the Alchemist's Guild, in the center of the Merchant District. He is tasked with keeping the guild's training hall supplied with various herbs and mushrooms. It is through the Alchemist's Guild that he met his wife, Zhandlegarrii, an accident prone experimental Alchemist. The couple earns a decent combined income from the guild, and as such they are able to rent a modest apartment in the alley just behind the guild hall, at the end of Stinkgutter Way. **METAGAME: Every 7 days, Rubbumba makes an Herbalism Profession check, and Zhandle makes an Alchemy Craft check, each earning 1/2 of the resulting roll in gold, +5% due to the Merchant's Tongue feat. Rubbumba is always "working", looking for herbs and molds wherever he goes to sell back to the guild - even when adventuring. This is obviously not possible for Zhandle, so she can't earn her Craft income while away from the guild hall. Every 10 days, they owe the guild 11gp for room and board. This grants them a small, 2 room flat, a stall in the stable, and meals in the guild dining hall. This is based on the PHB daily prices for a common room and meals for 2 people.** Their budget is tight, but manageable, and they live comfortably and have even managed to put some money away.

Since Rubbumba travels in and out of the city quite a bit as he searches for alchemical components, he bought himself a trained riding dog just last year. He named his beloved pet Lightning, and he takes him everywhere. His affection for Lightning is second only to his love for Zhandle.

Zhandlegarri (halfling wizard 1)

Zhandlegarrii is very pretty, though quite thin... almost waiflike. She doesn't get out much, and is therefore quite pale and weak. She's not sickly, but she's definitely not robust either. She wears thick spectacles and can't see a bloody thing without them.

Zhandle has an obsessive compulsive personality, which works well with her chosen career. She is also somewhat reclusive, so she has no problem at all spending long hours alone, in the dark, pouring over books and writing formulae by candlelight. She is a halfling who is accustomed to routine, and is prone to panic attacks when things don't go exactly as planned. If Zhandle starts to get over excited, Rubbumba can often be heard soothing her and telling her to take out her "breathe bag" and to take slow, deep breaths.

Since she is so shy and nervous, Rubbumba is the most wonderful and exciting thing that has ever happened to Zhandlegarrii. She doesn't see him as others do... rather plain and husky. To her, Rubbumba is the king of the world, and she does all she can to be the perfect wife to him.

Jouko (human fighter 1)

Feats: Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Spiked Chain), Combat Expertise, Improved Trip

Jouko is a 21 year old human male, CN alignment. His current profession is that of a sailor. Though his disposition and outlook give him a propensity for piracy. He is young but many years of hard living on the sea mask his youth. He is a scraggly tooth sailor with years of experience. He has lived on the sea since he was a lad of 10 years. He is a capable sailor and strong swimmer. He favors the spiked chain as a weapon and often uses it to swing from the rigging when fighting or boarding another ship. Living at sea precludes the use of heavy armor, he wears a ragtag set of leather armor that he has pieced together over time. It's little more than some torso and forearm protection. Though he often does honest sailoring he has plenty of experience as a pirate and has a good reputation within that circle. However he doesn't openly proclaim his pirating habits as he changes ships frequently. He enjoys wenching and wine more than life itself and indulges in both whenever in port. Among the docks of Sasserine he is a known figure, largely known as a good sailor and handy with a weapon.

My weapon of choice is a spiked chain. It's an interesting weapon and has some unique characteristics. It's a reach weapon, 10ft, but also may be used to attack adjacent targets. I can also use this weapon for disarm and trip attempts. Trip is pretty much the same, detailed below. Disarm with a spiked chain is disgusting. When I take Improved Disarm at 2nd level I'll give you the run down. In a nutshell it's pretty much impossible for me to fail a disarm check, my modifiers will be so high that only critical failure or success can preclude me from winning.

Scion of Orcus: A Savage Interlude

Already a member of a savage, brutal people, Gaulish descended into depravity that even other orcs shunned. Reared to replace her mother as Medicine Woman for her tribe, she found her submissive roll in the orcish hierarchy far too restrictive to suit her ambitions. Still, loud and restive priests were not tolerated in a culture that barely counted itself as religious. She likely would have lived a life of quiet desperation, resigned to her role in the tribe. Fate, however, had different plans for her.

Change came in the form of a human raiding party that attacked her tribe's cavern complex. They were stopped after being trapped in the antechamber of the tribe's shrine to Gruumsh, where she lived. Only one of the humans, some form of magic-user, was captured alive. The tribe had lost dozens of its warriors to the humans, and it was infuriated. The High Shaman placated the bloodlust the best way he could -- the remaining interloper would be slowly and tortuously sacrificed to Gruumsh during the next Festival of the Eye, two moons hence. The tribe set about recovering from its Pyrrhic victory.

As chief acolyte, Gaulish was to tend to the captive until the sacrifice. She was to make sure he did not die, and she was to remind him daily of his ultimate and gruesome fate. But her conduct did not follow orcish scripture. His abilities, which she had witnessed first hand in the courtyard as he vainly fought off her tribemates, intrigued her and rekindled her long-repressed ambition. Her daily scoldings quickly turned into interrogations.

The captured sorcerer, for his part, quickly realized that this orc priestess could only be a divine gift of fate. He had always used his natural charm to manipulate those around him. Such an alien, savage creature posed a massive challenge -- especially given the urgency of the situation -- but he set about seducing her nonetheless. The interrogations quickly became conversations, and conversation turned into sermonizing about the divinity he followed faithfully and the artifact he sought that would justify the righteousness of his cause. Finally, mere days before he was to be slaughtered, he had converted Gaulish over to his cause. She was no longer his captor -- she was his disciple and lover. They set about freeing him and showing her tribe the true way forward.

He imparted to Gaulish his final secret -- the reason why her tribe had been so drawn to the caverns they now called home. Below the lowest levels of their home there was another, far older and forgotten complex dedicated to his god. Together they murdered the guards blocking their path as they descended deeper into the tunnels below the orcish complex than any orc had ever dared go.

The Festival of the Eye that year was the last one ever celebrated by the orcs of that tribe. Those old enough to remember could only recollect brief, bloody images...

... Of the entire tribe crying in shock and disbelief as the rotting corpses of their dead flooded into the temple complex.

... Of the High Shaman and the Warlord being ripped limb from limb by the silent, shambling horde.

... Of Gaulish striding triumphantly into the antechamber, followed by the now-freed human captive and holding aloft an obsidian goat skull and proclaiming that justice had finally returned to the tribe, that the sins and heretical crimes of the leaders had finally been avenged, and that the true way forward had been revealed to her by the true patron of the tribe, Orcus the goat lord.

... Of Gaulish laughing hysterically as the rotted army slaughtered any of the tribe that dared raise their voice in protest, including her own mother.

Fully a third of the tribe had been purged by the end of that long, blood-soaked day. Any orc that protested was killed, along with his mate, his children and his parents. Whole bloodlines were expunged as any strong-willed objector or potential rival of the new regime was eliminated. All who were left mutely bowed in disbelief and gut-clenching fear. The demented and blasphemous history of the Black Ram tribe began that day.

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Gauruloc was born later that year to the new high priestess and her human consort. Like Gaulish, he was raised to be the high priest that would take her place. He was steeped in the profane and horrific traditions of a demon prince, and he was considered blessed to be the offspring of a prophet to his tribe and his race. But in a strange and ironic way, Gauruloc was too much like his mother. He was unsatisfied too.

Gauruloc didn't desire more power -- he had all the power in the tribe, truthfully. No, Gauruloc felt unfulfilled, but he couldn't quite understand why. The profane rituals he committed to memory felt oddly disturbing, as if they were at odds with his nature as an orc (well, half an orc, though he was far too important and revered to be thought of that way by the tribe). That's not to say that Gauruloc felt any sort of yearning for compassion or decency- he was as savage and pitiless as any orc warrior in his tribe. In fact, the best explanation that he could muster was that the ferocity and brutality inherent in his soul clashed with the calculating, sinister corruption that was Orcus. Like his mother, though, Gauruloc buried his conflicted nature and tried to serve his mother as best he could.

Fate this time chose an almost absurd instrument of change. An elf hunting party had been ambushed by Black Ram marauders, and the lone survivor, a female elf hunter, had been brought back to the temple of Orcus to be sacrificed to the demonlord six days hence. Gauruloc, the first full priest of Orcus to be ordinated since the tribe's conversion, was given the honor of sacrificing her by his mother. He was to oversee her torture and ultimate demise as his final rite of passage into the new priesthood.

Even as the elf was brought into Gauruloc's chambers that first night he could barely contain his rage and indignation. Once the Temple Guard left them alone he unleashed his fury upon the elf in a verbal tirade. If it was up to him, he informed her in barely coherent orcish, he would have left her bloodied corpse upon the battlefield as testament to the power of the orc. Instead, he was about to be forced into a ritual he found profoundly cowardly, pointless and disturbing. His diatribe went on for hours, until his broken, hoarse throat could barely muster another syllable.

The stunned elf replied in turn, her insults and savage indignation building as she found her bravery. Gauruloc was left stunned and disheartened. This was a worthy enemy, one who deserved to be slaughtered, not forced to become a sacrifice to his demented god. The idea of torturing her left him almost nauseous. The elf realized that this orc was at least different from the dark, profane monsters that had butchered her party in a veritable orgy. Here at least was an honest savage. Argument followed tirade. Debate followed argument. Finally, conversation followed debate. Three days later, Gauruloc had been taught about elven culture, custom and faith, and he had nothing he could reply with that did not shame him. His inner conflict exploded into his mind and for the first time he faced the realization that he had been raised to follow an unnatural faith, a belief at odds with anything that could be considered intuitive.

Gauruloc made the first decision he ever felt proud about -- this elf would not be slaughtered as a sacrifice to his twisted patron. Neither would he let his demented mother bring her back as some sort of blasphemous rotting soldier. He tricked and ambushed the temple guards watching his room and freed the elf. They killed another half-dozen orcs during their flight. Gauruloc's heart sang with joy. Here was an orc's true call- slaughter with purpose, savagery as expression of his true self. The pair fled into the woods where they faced their last obstacle -- a half-dozen Black Ram skirmishers confused that their chosen prophet was helping their one truest enemy and chosen gift to Orcus escape. The combat was short, bloody and fierce. At the end, Gauruloc stood over the dead bodies of his kin and the corpse of the elf, who had died with the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. He realized then his new path in life. Orcus was a monster, a blot upon nature that deserved nothing from his people or any other. But Gruumsh had failed, too. If the High Shaman had followed his nature rather than Gruumsh's will, the human blasphemer would never have had the chance to corrupt his tribe. Who could he follow? He bent down, snapped the cord holding the wooden holy symbol of the elf's chosen god, Corellon Larethian, and tied it around his neck. Here was a god that had stayed true to the nature of his followers. Larethian might be a contemptible elf god, but at least he wasn't a hypocrite or a self-serving boor. From now on he would be named Gauruloc Au'Nast, the reborn one.

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The elven sentries were stunned by the appearance of an orc wearing the holy symbol of their highest god and claiming an elvish surname, however strangely translated it was. They were even more bewildered when his healing prayers to Corellon were answered as proof of his intent. They listened mutely as he detailed the location of the demon-worshipping orc tribe that they had been at war with for the past four years. They could only stare dumbfounded as he walked back into the woods and vanished forever from their realm.

One week later a massive elven assault forever silenced the debauchery of the Black Ram orc tribe. The elven general, at first nearly terrified that he was walking into a trap, could only thank Corellon silently as his warriors utilized secret passages described by the sentries who had talked to the wandering orc to catch the orcish tribe in a near-perfect trap. What would have been a desperate battle turned into a one-sided slaughter. He had personally dispatched the high priestess, felling her as she chanted hysterically to whatever dark lord she followed. No one encountered the bearded human the orc traitor had described, though, and the obsidian artifact the orc had asked the elves to shatter was either gone or had never been there. At twilight the elven clerics blessed the blasphemous altar, causing it to disintegrate into a thousand tiny shards, and the magi used their magic to collapse the entire complex, forever sealing it to the world.

Monster on the Loose

Rubbumba raced to Zhandlegarrii's side. She spread her arms, expecting an embrace, but instead Rubb's nimble hands went about the work of buttoning Zhandle's blouse. "There there, darling -- can't be fighting pirates looking like a floozy. That's much better." Zhandle's cheeks blazed red.

Meanwhile, Johari pulled the crossbow bolt out of her shoulder, her jaw clenched against the pain. She mumbled some exotic sounding words and a green aura appeared around her hand, healing her wound. Jouko stood alert, spinning his chain in a tight vertical loop.

The door beneath the quarterdeck flew open forcefully, and two more thugs stepped out onto the main deck, rapiers at the ready. Zhandle screamed and pointed furiously at the men. This sent Rubb into a screaming fit of his own. His scream rose as, eyes wide with terror, he charged at the thugs. For their part, the men clearly did not expect to be met by a shrieking halfling rushing their way. Rubb buried his short sword in the thigh of one of the men, and for an instant the two stood there, eyes locked, screaming at one another in terror and surprise.

Johari sheathed her scimitar and began casting in a strange tongue. She held her open hand before her, and flames as bright as a torch sprang from her palm. She stepped forward slowly, sizing up the uninjured thug.

Jouko sent his spiked chain whirling overhead as he surged across the deck. "We be here for Vark lads, ye best get over the side lest yer skulls get crushed!" Jouko stopped short of the melee, chain at the ready, and waited for either of the thugs to make a false move. The thug that Rubb had veritably skewered pulled free of the halfling's small blade and made a desperate break for the stair leading to the quarterdeck. Jouko's chain lashed out, seeking the man's fleeing legs. The thug managed to stop in his tracks, tumbling out of the chain's path ... and right back into Rubb's stabbing sword. The thug slumped onto the deck, fatally wounded. Rubb's scream continued, but transitioned from terror to triumph.

The remaining thug lunged at Johari with his rapier. She skillfully pushed the attack aside with her long wicker shield. Just then, however, two more combatants emerged from the door beneath the quarterdeck. Jouko immediately recognized one of them, a bald man with a jagged scar running the length of one arm, as Soller Vark. The other was a dangerous looking woman. Both stepped into the fray. The woman's flashing rapier cut a gash across Jouko's chest!

Zhandlegarrii cried for Rubbumba to look out. Then, instinctively, she sputtered an arcane spell, sending a mystic bolt into the melee. The magic missle struck the woman, and she whipped her head around to glare at the little wizard.

"My beloved, stay back! Stay hidden, dear!" cried Rubbumba. He stepped between his wife and the vicious woman, jabbing his short sword up and into her gut. The woman's eyes flew wide, her rapier clattered uselessly to the deck, and her hands grasped the halfling's bloody blade. She sank to her knees, and then toppled over backwards.

"Ketrana! No!" Vark lashed out at Rubb. The halfling tried to duck under the brute's rapier, but the blade traced a bloody line across Rubb's bald forehead. It was a glancing blow, but the rage smoldering in Vark's eyes promised that the next strike would be lethal.

Meanwhile, Johari struck at the other remaining thug with her open palm. The blow hit the man squarely on the chin, and the mystical flame in her hand seared his upper chest and face. "Ye should have taken the swim when you had the chance, lad. Now I've no course but to crush yer skull," Jouko lamented. He sent his spiked chain whistling in a low arc at the sailor's legs, tripping him to the deck. Snakelike, the chain snapped out again, fulfilling Jouko's grim promise and shattering the thug's face. The man's legs twitched for an instant, and then he lay still.

Mindless of Soller Vark, Zhandle raced to Rubb's side. As she arrived, her face turned pale and she retched violently at Vark's feet. Disgusted, Vark called out an order. "Burn them, Mera! Burn them all! The prisoner, too!"

One of Rubbumba's eyebrows arched skyward. "Prisoner?"

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Gauruloc Au'Nast had booked passage on the Darkmaiden's Dance largely by chance. The vessel was sailing out of Port Joli in the Hold of the Sea Princes, bound for an exotic southern port called Sasserine across Jeklea Bay. Surrounded by the sea, vast cliffs, steaming swamps, and jungle, Sasserine sounded like the kind of place where Gauruloc might put his past behind him and start anew. He managed to buy his way onto the ship at the last instant, just before the Darkmaiden's Dance sailed out. During the voyage, most of the crew kept their distance -- not that the laconic half-orc minded. Gauruloc did, however, have some conversations with a disreputable sailor named Jouko. Gauruloc enjoyed listening to the coarse seaman spill yarn after yarn about his home port of Sasserine. If his tales were true, it was a rough city in a savage land, with but a thin veneer of civilization. Sasserine promised to be a place suited to both the human and orc sides of Gauruloc's nature.

The night before arriving in Sasserine, Gauruloc had the most vivid, haunting dream of his life. Disjointed images flashed through his sleeping mind:

An attractive human woman in a long, flowing blue dress and a handsome young man with a short beard stand against a crest featuring swords crossed to form a stylized "V."

Jungles, coastlines, glimpses of strange, exotic creatures -- some small and fast, some lumbering and huge, some winged, some with heavy natural armor, and others with cruel teeth the size of swords.

Most haunting, an enormous, vaguely reptilian creature with a somewhat humanoid form. Two baboon heads sprout from its twin snake-like necks, and its arms end in long tentacles. The tentacles of one arm hold an ebon pearl. The baboon heads cackle for a moment, and then the pearl explodes, engulfing everything in inky blackness.

Gauruloc awoke covered in sweat. He felt a dark power not unlike that which emanated from the caves beneath the Black Ram complex -- the kind of tainted, sentient power he had felt in the presence of Orcus, yet distinctly dissimilar. Gauruloc tried to forget the dream, but he was instantly reminded of it upon arriving in Sasserine. There in the harbor, he spotted a vessel flying under the very crest he had seen in his dreams. The vessel was called the Blue Nixie. Gauruloc felt compelled to investigate. When he approached the ship with questions, he was invited aboard. Before long, however, he was waylaid by a pack of vicious thugs. Gauruloc's sword drank deeply of the blood of two of the men, but their numbers eventually overwhelmed him. Their captain, a brute named Soller Vark, ordered the half-orc caged in the ship's hold. "Keep him alive," he hissed, "for when the Rhagodessa grows hungry. She takes her dinner warm and wriggling." The thugs moved the ship a short distance from the dock, hoping to avoid more questions and prying eyes.

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Terrified that Zhandle was so close to such a dangerous enemy, Rubb attempted a dangerous maneuver. He broke from the melee, drawing Soller Vark's attention. Vark sliced downward with his rapier, but Rubb nimbly sidestepped and made for the stair. Racing across the quarterdeck, he leapt down at Vark, swinging his little sword wildly. Vark parried away the ineffectual attack, and attempted to skewer the halfling while he was in midair. His rapier narrowly missed, and Rubb landed at Vark's feet -- precisely where he had stood prior to his desperate gambit!

Billowing smoke and the sound of shrieking monkeys and parrots welled up from the hold below. An instant later, Jouko, Rubb and Zhandle heard the sound of a terrific crash, followed by a woman's high-pitched scream and a strange, shrill keening. Johari cried out: "No, not the animals!" She turned away from the melee on the main deck and raced for the ship's hold, the magic flame still burning in her hand.

His chain whirling above his head, Jouko grimly measured Soller Vark. "Vark, let's be talkin' about the Lady Vanderboren's purse." Jouku suddenly snapped the chain out, and it wrapped about Vark's rapier. With a flick of his wrist, Jouko snatched the rapier from Vark's hand, and it fell to the deck at the brute's feet. Zhandle, done retching, saw the sword fall nearby. Before Vark could react, she snatched the weapon and darted away.

Vark spat a curse and raised his hands above his head, palms open -- a clear plea for mercy. "Ye have me, now name yer price. Ye can have yer lady's purse."

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Gauruloc awoke to a cry of alarm from above -- "All hand adeck, we've been boarded!" Groggy and weakened, he lifted his head and looked about, all too quickly remembering his dire circumstances. He lay on the hay-strewn floor of a cage barely large enough to accomodate him. A variety of monkeys, parrots and other animals occupied smaller cages. A very large cage nearby was occupied by a monstrous inhabitant -- a horrific spider-like creature roughly the size of a pony. The creature's body was dark brown with yellow stripes, its furred legs long and spindly. The monster's head was horrifically oversized, dominated by immense mandibles that chattered and clacked with obvious hunger. Gauruloc had heard his captors call the beast a "rhagodessa" -- right before they threw him into the cage, keeping him alive to feed the monster when it grew hungry. Gauruloc saw one of his captors nearby, a rough woman called Mera. She looked up the ladder leading to the ship's main deck, considering whether to answer the alarm -- but then, remembering her charge to guard the half-orc, she stood her ground and waited.

Gauruloc rose and grasped the bars of his cage as the sounds of pitched combat filtered down from above. He had no idea what was going on, but he had no plans to end up as food for a caged monster. He silently swore to Corellon Larethian, whom he called Sharp-Ears, that given the chance he would show the elf-god that he was a truly worthy warrior. This time, there would be no capture. Gauruloc would triumph -- or die.

Gauruloc heard a voice he recognized as Soller Vark call from above. "Burn them, Mera! Burn them all! The prisoner too!" Mera quickly set to lighting the animal cages with a torch, keeping one wary eye on Gauruloc as she went about the task. The smoke riled the animals, and the monkeys and parrots began shrieking wildly and throwing themselves against their cages. Suddenly, the rhagodessa hurled itself against the walls of its cage, causing the cage to crash to its side and the poorly latched door to fly open! The monster was upon Mera in a heartbeat. The front pair of the monster's ten legs reared up threateningly, their tips flattening into terrible discs studded with dozens of hooked suckers. It grabbed Mera, clutching her in its front legs and rending her body with one bite of its powerful mandibles. The beast shook its massive head, and the lower half of Mera's body took flight, slamming against the bars of Gauruloc's cage. As the monster went about devouring Mera's torso, Gauruloc noticed several keys dangling from Mera's rope belt, just outside his cage!

Gauruloc snatched the keys, and fumbled with them for an instant before finding the lock on the outside of his cage. He turned a key, and the lock was released. He was loose, but the rhagodessa stood between him and freedom. His eyes cast about, looking for his sword and shield. He could not see his own arms, but noticed Mera's thin rapier lying nearby.

At that moment, Johari dropped down into the ship's hold from above, landing crouched with her shield at the ready. The rhagodessa's head whipped around to face her. "Run, you useless cow!" Gauruloc bellowed.

Before Johari could react, the monster sprang at her, seizing her in its pedipalps. It attempted to deliver a crushing bite, but the druidess managed to wedge her shield into its beak. The rhagodessa's mandibles splintered the wicker shield. Johari screamed, but for the moment managed to keep the creature's snapping beak at bay with the mystic flame burning in her palm. Gauruloc knew, however, that she wouldn't last long in the monster's grasp.

Hearing Johari's scream, Jouko caught Rubb's eye. "Keep an eye on Vark, wee one." Jouko then raced away, leaving Rubb to guard the brute. Encouraged by his victories in battle, Rubb waggled his blade at the thug and tried to look menacing. Vark chuckled quietly, waiting for his chance. He would not have to wait long.

Below deck, Gauruloc went on the offensive. "Behold, spider-thing," roared the half-orc. "You are not the most savage creation on this accursed boat!" Gauruloc leapt at the monster, seizing its pedipalps. The rhagodessa struggled mightily, and Gauruloc was unable to maintain a hold on the creature. However, the attack did succeed in causing the monster to drop Johari, and it focused on this new prey. It reared, grappling Gauruloc in its pedipalps. The beast's mandibles snapped shut, squeezing the breath from the half-orc's chest!

Just then Jouko jumped down into the hold from above, landing on the creature's back and holding on as the monster reared up furiously. "Ahoy, mate!" Jouko called breathlessly to Gauruloc as they struggled with the rhagodessa.

On the main deck, Zhandlegarrii stumbled to the open door leading down into the hold, and promptly became violently ill. As she retched out the last of her stomach contents onto the combatants below, she spotted the rhagodessa. "Ack! Bug!" she shrieked. In her panic, she threw Vark's rapier at the beast. The blade clattered harmlessly to the bottom of the ladder. Zhandle jumped up and down, screaming incoherently, "Bugbugbugbugbugbugbiguglybug!"

Soller Vark took the opportunity to break for the side of the ship. Rubb managed to wound him with his sword, but it was not enough to prevent the brute's escape. Vark dove off the Nixie and into the warm waters of the harbor, swimming rapidly toward the dock.

Back in the hold, the beast attempted to finish Gauruloc, but the half-orc grabbed one of its mandibles in each hand and fought against the crushing jaw. He knew he could not hold the monster off much longer. His chest burned, and he was beginning to grow dizzy. Better to die in combat with the monster, he thought, than to become its helpless meal.

Jouko was thrown from the writhing monster's back, but landed cleanly on his feet. In one fluid motion he stepped back from the thrashing beast and launched his spiked chain in an overhead arc. The chain struck home with a meaty crunch, and the monster let out a keening roar of pain.

Rubbumba's voice called down from above. "Johari! Save yourself ... take my hand!" The druidess looked up to see the halfling, lying prone at the top of the ladder and stretching his arm as far down into the hold as he could reach. Johari looked up at Rubb just long enough for him to see the grim determination in her eyes. Without response, she thrust herself back into the fray, striking the creature with her flaming fist and causing another monstrous cry.

Gauruloc seized the opportunity, forcing the beast's mandibles apart with all his might. Then, before the jaw could snap shut, he ripped away from the rhagodessa's pedipalps, the tiny hooks and suckers that the beast used to clutch its prey tearing at his flesh. Gauruloc stepped back, screaming, "My SWORD! WHERE IS MY BLASTED SWORD?!!?"

Zhandle attempted to overcome her initial panic at the sight of the horrible bug-thing. Her breath coming in hitches, she finally spat out the words to an arcane spell. The attempt to daze the monster failed, however, and Zhandle nearly swooned with terror.

The rhagodessa once again grasped Johari in its clutches. This time, she had no shield to hold off its slavering mandibles. Its jaw snapped shut, rending flesh, crunching bone. The druidess fell limp in the monster's grasp.

Jouko stepped backward, swinging his chain overhead in slow circles. With startling quickness, the chain lashed out at the spiders head. Unfortunately, the attack glanced harmlessly off its tough carapace. Meanwhile, Rubb attempted to come to Johari's aid, flipping himself dramatically down into the hold. He failed to completely tuck one of his legs, however, and clipped the ladder on the way down. He landed prone on the floor -- beneath the monster's deadly maw!

"Sharp-Ears," Gauruloc grumbled, "heal my wounds." Divine energy coursed through Gauruloc's veins, mending cracked ribs and filling his lungs with air. Cursing, he grabbed up Mera's rapier. "The dead waif's toothpick will have to do."

Zhandle, fighting off another bout of nausea, choked out another spell, and pelted the rhagodessa with a ray of frost. It wasn't enough to distract the beast -- the rhagodessa seized Rubb in its pedipalps and pulled him towards its waiting mandibles. The creature then bit poor Rubb, shaking him like a ragdoll and hurling him away, unconscious.

Gauruloc charged recklessly at the monster, but unaccustomed to such a flimsy, contemptible weapon as Mera's rapier, his attack failed. Zhandle, horrified and enraged by Rubb's grievous wound, hammered the beast with another ray of frost, freezing the lowest segment of one of its spindly legs. The leg then broke off at the joint. Undeterred, the monster attempted to grapple Gauruloc once more, but the half-orc was able to fight off its bristling pedipalps.

Jouko shifted to his right and sent his chain whirling at the spider in a vicious downward arc. The chain wrapped about the rhagodessa's neck. Jouko pulled with all his might, snapping the beast's neck. The monster's oversized head hovered near Gauruloc for an instant before crashing to the deck with a gruesome crunch. The rest of its body collapsed an instant later, as if an afterthought.

Gauruloc quickly surveyed the carnage. It was apparent that the broken and bloodied druid was beyond even Sharp-Ear's aid. The half-orc immediately turned his attention to the wounded halfling. "Sharp-Ear, I demand that you fill this little one with vigor!" Again divine energy coursed through Gauruloc's mighty limbs, and he laid his hand upon Rubbumba. Color returned to the halfling almost instantly, and his condition began to stabilize. After a moment he blinked his eyes and looked about.

"Rubb!" Zhandle cried, throwing her arms around her husband. In her nauseous, trembling, asthmatic state, it had taken her a long moment to climb down the vomit and ichor encrusted ladder. Rubbumba looked over Zhandle's shoulder, down at the corpse of the monster on the floor.

"I -- I did it! I killed it!" He puffed out his chest for an instant, but his bravado vanished when he saw Johari's shattered body next to the rhagodessa. As if by unspoken agreement, Rubb, Zhandle and Jouko spent a long, quiet moment staring at their vanquished companion. Gauruloc finally broke the silence.

"Did any of you see a sword?" he grumbled, tossing down Mera's rapier with disdain. "A real sword?"

And the rhagodessa claims yet another victim.
Can't wait to see how my players fare in a few weeks when we start the STAP!

Thanks for the stories, I'm starting to get into it now and enjoy it too.

carborundum said:

And the rhagodessa claims yet another victim.
Can't wait to see how my players fare in a few weeks when we start the STAP!
Thanks for the stories, I'm starting to get into it now and enjoy it too.

Click to expand...

Carb: Thanks for the comment, I'm glad someone is reading and enjoying our humble adventures! Updates aren't as frequent as I would like, but the roleplay has been terrific. Thanks to the Paizo folks behind the Savage Tide Adventure Path, and especially to my players for going above and beyond the call of duty in getting into character.

The Nixie Reclaimed

As much as the timid halfling in Rubbumba wanted to cry and give up after seeing his friend Johari -- though their acquaintance was brief -- so brutally slain, he understood that this was neither the time nor the place for an emotional breakdown. Besides, Zhandle might see him, and he felt compelled to maintain a brave facade. After making sure that his wife was perfectly safe, Rubb ventured back upstairs and took the time to carefully explore the ship's cabins. He was looking for the purse that they had come for in the first place -- before things took a turn for the worst. A search of the various cabins in the ship uncovered a large trunk in the captain's quarters, within which Rubb found a leather pouch containing 100 platinum pieces -- the Lady Vanderboren's missing payment to the harbormaster, no doubt.

Meanwhile in the hold, Jouko grinned at Gauruloc across the gruesome corpse of the rhagodessa. Jouko knew the half-orc from his recent voyage on the merchant caravel, The Darkmaiden's Dance, out of Port Joli. "Tis a fine greeting to be sure. But next time, 'ahoy' will do, mate."

Gauruloc barely heard him. The half-orc was hunting through the ship's hold, absently cursing the "civilized" races for wasting perfectly good steel on weapons not fit to clean his teeth. Gauruloc didn't have to look far. He spotted his own weapons and shield in the crew quarters. With a satisfied (and relieved) grunt, Gauruloc slung his shield on to his back, and sheathed his proper sword.

"So what were you and the little snacklings doing on board this ship, human?" the half-orc asked Jouko as he strode over to the druid's carcass to see what he might salvage for future use.

Rubb, having returned to the rest of the party jingling Lady Vanderboren's purse in front of himself triumphantly, started to object to being referred to as a "snackling." However, a second look at Gauruloc in all his fully armed, menacing glory prompted the halfling to bite his tongue. Instead, Rubb shook the sack containing Lavinia's platinum in the half-orc's direction. "The scoundrel who dove over the edge of the ship was a dishonest businessman. A thug, and a thief. We came here to take back something that didn't rightfully belong to him."

Gauruloc reared his head high and belted out a hoot of laughter. "'Rightfully?' You worry too much about nothing, morsel. The pig's stomach that held that payment and bound me to be breakfast for that ten-legs was its 'rightful' owner. You threw him to the sharks and now you are its 'rightful' owner. Propriety and 'right' are a luxury of the powerful who can play such games. In my mother's tribe, such blathering would have gotten you eaten after a good, hearty laugh. Enjoy your swag, little one, and sleep well knowing that you earned it by the right of your tiny fists."

Gauruloc turned back to Johari's corpse. The druid traveled light, her possessions amounting to little more than a hide bikini, a (mostly crushed) wicker shield, a scimitar, a sling and 20 bullets, 2 scrolls of cure light wounds, a leather necklace strung with fearsome looking teeth, and a small pouch with 4 silver pieces.

Gauruloc considered the loot. "These word-spells are useful to me. And what of this necklace? Is this ensorceled, Sharp-Ears?" The half-orc cast detect magic, and checked first the necklace, then the rest of Johari's belongings. Other than the scrolls, it appeared the druid's possessions were rather mundane.

Nonetheless, Jouko casually bent over and retrieved the leather necklace from Johari's corpse. "She would have wanted me to have this," he offered as he strung the necklace around his filthy neck. Looking pleased with himself, he eyed the snackl -- er, halfling, Rubbumba. "Right, now about the Lady Lavinia's purse...."

Rubb looked sideways at Jouko and tucked the purse into one of his many pouches, tying it tight. "The lady's money goes back where it belongs... to the lady," he said, with a barely disguised accusatory tone in his voice.

Meanwhile, Zhandle stood in a corner, teetering back and forth with a hand over her mouth, waging a losing battle against her gag reflex. After emptying everything that was in her stomach earlier, her body now registered its distaste for the casual looting of a slain ally with a painful bout of dry heaves. Zhandle began to fixate obsessively on the rocking and swaying of the ship. Moving, always moving and rocking and swaying. Exasperated and exhausted she screamed out hysterically, "DOes thE MOTion EVer stOP!"

Then, as if the violent outburst had unearthed a buried memory, Zhandle blurted, "Ring." Then, more emphatically, "RING!" Much of her hair had fallen from it's usual neat bun, stray chunks of vomit coated her cheek and sleeves, and her left eye was weirdly twitching. Between her appearance and sudden wailing, Zhandle seemed more banshee than halfling. "NEed tO FInd tHE RIng foR VAulT! THen cAN WE get OFF thIS ROckiNG NIghtmARE!"

Having spoken her mind, Zhandle cautiously formed a small grin. The grin expanded across suddenly ballooning cheeks, however, and when it seemed her face could grow no larger, the smile exploded in a fresh surge of discharge. It seemed her stomach had not yet disgorged all of its cheesy contents, after all.

Rubb smiled at Zhan and moved to kiss her on the cheek. Spotting a chunk of something from last night's dinner, however, he decided a pat on the back of the head was more appropriate. "You are right, my loveling. I was so excited about the money, I had forgotten all about the ring. Oh my ... I hope it didn't end up as shark bait, too! I will take a second look around. If it is here, I will find it." Rubb glared at Gauruloc. "And I will return it to it's RIGHTFUL owner."

Back in the captain's quarters, in a secret panel in the headboard of the captain's bunk, Rubbumba found Lavinia's father's signet ring. A scrap of rolled up parchment was threaded through the ring. Written on it was a strange list of monsters -- chimera, cyclops, medusa, umber hulk, basilisk -- with the word 'sunrise' or 'sunset' appearing after the name of each exotic creature. Rubb tucked the ring into his deepest of pockets for safekeeping. Although he would share his find with Zhandle later, he did not reveal the ring to either Jouko or the half-orc -- he did not entirely trust either of them.

The adrenaline of the morning's events beginning to fade, and the realization that achieving their goal cost the life of a companion starting to sink in, Rubbumba turned his attention to his wife. As exciting and horrifying as this adventure had been for him, he had not yet stopped to consider how completely traumatic it must have been for poor Zhandle. Putting an arm around her shoulder, he looked to Jouko in a pleading manner. "Please, pirate. Let us be done with this accursed ship. Let's get this money back to Lady Lavinia, collect our reward, and seek some peaceful respite." He stood staring at Jouko as if for guidance, stealing uneasy glances at the half-orc. Rubb was still not quite sure what to make of this crude, and frightening addition to the party.

Jouko's eyes lit up at the mention of reward money. "Yes indeed wee one, lets be seeing the lady of the manor 'bout our payment." Jouko slid up beside Rubb and placed his arm upon his shoulder.

Gauruloc had not found the answers he sought aboard the Blue Nixie. However, this talk of a Lady, the rightful owner of the boat, was intriguing. If the boat belonged to her, then so must the crest that flew above it. If his dream was any indication, Sharp-Ears wanted him to meet this Lady, though for what purpose he could not yet fathom. While the others went about securing the dinghy Zhandle and Johari had piloted out to the Nixie little more than an hour ago, Gauruloc emerged from the hold of the ship carrying the rapiers that had belonged to Vark and Mera, and Johari's scrolls and pouch.

"I come with you, snacklings. I wish to meet this employer of yours for my own reasons." He noticed the other corpses about, and began to search them. "Those who leave enough for the vultures are usually the vultures' next meal."

Rubb, Zhandle and Jouko had already boarded the dinghy by the time Gauruloc finished his looting and looked down at them from the Nixie. "Watch your delicious little heads, morsels," he snickered as he began to toss suits of leather armor, crossbows and bucklers over the side of the Nixie and into the rowboat. Gauruloc then clambered down a rope to the dinghy, making no effort to conceal a single pirate's purse he confiscated from one of the carcasses that was now bulging with coin, or the sheathed masterwork rapier that had once been Soller Vark's. "This haul should fetch some good coin. Now, how do these water-wagons move?"

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The party made it safely back to Vanderboren Manor, which Gauruloc found to be disturbingly familiar. Not surprisingly, Gauruloc recognized Lady Vanderboren as well.

For her part, Lavinia appeared overjoyed that the party managed to reclaim the Blue Nixie and her purse, and even more so that they found Verik Vanderboren's signet ring. She seemed sincerely saddened and disturbed by news of Johari's demise, and thanked Gauruloc for his role in reclaiming the Nixie.

"As promised, I'll pay each of you 200 gold once I've access to my vault. Gauruloc, it is only fair that you should receive Johari's share. Meanwhile, I have another proposal for you. I'm so pleased with your work thus far that I would like to hire you on as my personal troubleshooters, agents and bodyguards. I can only offer you 100 gp per month to remain in my employ. However, your service to one of Sasserine's noble families could have advantages and rewards beyond your monthly wage.

"I already have a task in mind for you. I need to travel to Castle Teraknian to check my family vault. All of Sasserine's nobility have vaults under the castle, but I've never seen any of them -- including the family vault. Rumors hold that some family vaults are quite extensive and guarded by traps. Based on things I overheard my father say through the years, I suspect that the Vanderboren vault is relatively small and safe, but there may be a construct guardian. I would like you to accompany me to Castle Teraknian to provide protection and aid in investigating the vault contents."

Jouko's eyes gleamed with the mention of payment, though he seemed generally disinterested in remaining in the rest of Lady Vanderboren's speech as he wandered around the room, ogling everything of worth. At Lavinia's mention of the vaults beneath Castle Teraknian, however, he spun on his heel. "But of course we be pleased to help ye, m'lady. I am yer humble servant here to aid ye in this troubling time," he said with a gold-toothed grin.

Zhandle slumped onto Rubb's shoulder and tugged on his shirt sleeve, whispering with sour breath. "I need to freshen up and rest first before going anywhere. I feel so drained and sticky. I just hate it when I'm sticky!"

"It is settled, then," said Lavinia. "Take the remainder of the day to rest and tend to your personal affairs. I will see you all here tomorrow morning."

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Rubbumba and Zhandlegarrii returned to their small apartment behind the Alchemy Guild Hall. After a day spent washing, resting and washing some more, Zhan finally felt halfling again. She straightened her skirt and gently pressed her hair to stay in place, and headed derterminedly out the door. She knew exactly what she was looking for, and ticked off a mental check list out loud as she walked through Sasserine's streets. Eventually she arrived at her destination -- the library. She threw open the large wooden double doors and stumbled through, talking to herself distractedly and drawing a number of annoyed glances. After fumbling out appologies, she spent the rest of the afternoon poring over scholarly manuscripts and dusty tomes until at last she found the object of her search. "Ah HA!" She smiled and rubbed her hands lovingly over the small leather bound book. A Dwarf's Journal of Adventuring by Thoersten Coppersmiter, the book's spine proclaimed.

"No doubt I'll find courage in these pages," she declared. "No more shall I suffer the bitter indignities of seasickness, barf, upchuck, spew, hurl and keck in the heat of adventure!" All eyes in the library turned to her, and, cheeks blazing, she borrowed the book and abashedly made her exit.

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While Zhandle explored the library, Rubbumba cleaned the battle grime off of his tiny body and sifted through his findings. In all, the little halfling was pleased with his haul. He had managed to harvest several nice bulbs of sweet whitecaps from a sewer tunnel in a previous adventure, very useful in the creation of healing potions and salves. In addition, he snagged a few pale creepers, which always brought in good cash due to their use as a hardening agent in crafting masterwork armor. Whistling a happy tune, Rubb marched down to the alchemy shop to reap his profits.

Shortly after Rubb returned to the apartment, his coin purse a bit fatter, Zhandle burst through the door, panting and proudly brandishing a book entitled A Dwarf's Journal of Adventuring. "Lookie! I am going to be a seasoned adventurer in no time!" Full of ambition, she quickly thumbed through a few pages, a smile spreading across her face. "Rubb, we need to go shopping! I think I need to buy some ale. Can Lightning carry gallon jugs? Hmm, maybe a flask will do for the present...." She babbled on more to herself than to Rubb as she handed him his wee coat and pushed him out the door.

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That night, Jouko boldy strolled into the Speared Fish and looked around happily. Eyeing a table rimmed with drunken sailors, he bellowed loudly, "By Procan's beard ye be a sorry lot! Belle! Bring us a chair and a mug o'yer worst!" Jouko elbowed his way across the bustling tavern, grabbed a chair and mug from the flustered barmaid, and took a seat with the boisterous sailors.

"What ye bilge rats been in ta?" he asked between gulps of ale. "I ain't seen ye in three moons. 'Twas the Port Joli and that load o'cheese!" he said, pinching his nose. The table erupted into laughter and descended into raucous talk of days gone past. Jouko spent the remainder of the night drinking heavily and chasing bar wenches.

The Vanderboren Vault

The next morning, Gauruloc, Rubbumba and Zhandlegarrii arrived early at the gates of Vanderboren Manor. Unsurprisingly, Jouko was nowhere to be found. Rubbumba noticed that the half-orc was laden with the bulk of the loot he had stripped from the corpses on the Blue Nixie the previous day. The halfling's eyes flitted between the sack of crossbows Gauruloc held in one hand, the bag of armor and rapiers draped over his shoulder, and the bulging coin purse at his side. Rubbumba was beginning to stew at the thought that the half-orc had profited from all of his bold, stabbity heroics.

Noting the halfling's gaze, Gauruloc grunted. "Morsels," he said, shrugging the huge bag filled with loot from his shoulder. "Allow me to share a tradition the orcs practice as a rite of passage for our younglings. It is called the Grath-Kurg-Nath, the Eating of the Boar's Snout. Once a stripling is old enough, he must accompany a tribal veteran on a boar hunt and bring back the dead boar's head, still raw and dripping blood. Our young think that this is a test of strength and guile, and so they train their spear arm, their senses and their light steps to prepare themselves for this rite.

"But they are mistaken. Any orc can bring down a wild boar -- that part is simple. It is what happens afterwards that is the true test. The elder they accompany will take the boar's head and eat it, making it unfit for the stripling's prize. If the stripling doesn't protest, the elder will eat the rest of the boar and char away the meat, leaving the stripling nothing to eat.

"The next day the pair shall bring down another boar -- it is forbidden that they return without a boar's head -- only this time the elder will be strengthened by his last meal and the stripling will be much more hungry. Again the elder will eat the entire boar unless the stripling protests. The next day he'll do so again, and again the day after that. Each day the stripling will grow more famished and weak, and each day the elder will fill his innards with fresh boar. The cycle continues until the youngster dies or challenges the elder. Those too weak to raise a challenge are culled before they taint the clan with any more of their bloodline."

Gauruloc dropped the sacks of loot on the ground unceremoniously. "I sense that Sharp-Ears will be mildly annoyed if I strip you of a prize that you earned, and so I will share it with you. But remember that many more in this world will be very content to take what you have without a second thought UNLESS YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE." Guaruloc roared the last few words.

"After we finish our employer's labor, let us sell these prizes," he said quietly, walking through the open gate and toward the manor. He cocked his head back towards the Halflings. "And next time -- well, Sharp-Ears may only be a little annoyed."

Rubb focused only on the part that was important to him: "Let us sell these prizes," he agreed, rushing through the gate. Rubb puffed out his chest and glanced over his shoulder at Zhandle to make sure she was watching, to witness how brave and manly he was. Turning towards Gauruloc, he declared in his deepest voice, "Ah, it is a good thing that we see eye to eye on this, orc. Or eye to knee, as the case may be. But never mind that. I am not a frightened weakling, as you seem to think. You see, more than one strong halfling had a twinkle in his eye for my dear Zhandlegarrii. She had her choice of suitors, to be sure. But she chose me! Do you know why? Because I was the strongest and the bravest of them all! No, Sir Orc, I am not one to allow my prize pig to be taken from me. I am the one who stuck her, and I am the only one with the right to eat her snout. I'll fight any halfling, man or orc who thinks otherwise!" Turning towards Zhan, he said, "Isn't that right, my little pork chop?"

With her nose buried in A Dwarf's Guide to Adventuring, Zhan was oblivious to most of the conversation between Rubb and the half-orc. She simply nodded and offered the occasional "of course, dear" until her finger stopped at a passage in her book regarding orcs. She looked up from her reading and erupted with snorts and giggles. She whispered none to quietly to Rubb, "Don't *snort* waste your time *giggle* dear -- according to Thoersten Coppersmiter, orcs are stupid!"

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Kora Whistlegap ushered Gauruloc, Rubb and Zhandle into the dining hall, where Lavinia Vanderboren awaited them. Seated at the table with her was a young adult elf with blonde hair, grey eyes and light skin. The elf was outfitted with a fine looking longbow, as well as sword, flail and mail shirt.

Lavinia stood. "Greetings. This is Verys. Verys, meet Rubbumba, Zhandlegarri, and Gauruloc. It appears Jouko is late -- not an entirely unexpected development. We may as well get started without him. The death of Johari made me realize that working for the Vanderboren family presents certain unique risks. I thought it wise to bring on some additional help, and Verys came highly recommended. As my retainers, you'll be working together."

Verys nodded slightly without expression. "The pleasure is mine."

Rubbumba strutted up to to the elf and extended a tiny hand in greeting. "I am Rubbumba, more recently known as Rubb the Rumbler. This is my darling wife, Zhandlegarrii." Verys clasped Rubb's hand firmly just as a clatter and the sound of loud, off-key singing arose out in the atrium. Recognizing the voice, Rubbumba sighed.

Jouko swaggered into the room, still singing drunkenly:

Oh now I'm old and can scarcely crawl
I've a long grey beard and a head that's bald
Crown my desire, fufill my bliss
A pretty girl and a jug of this.
And when I'm in my grave and dead
And all my sorrows are past and fled
Transform me then into a fish
And let me swim in a jug of this.

Jouko bowed dramatically at the end of his performance, and looked up to find all eyes upon him. "Morn ta ya, m'lady!"

Zhandlegarrii, seemingly oblivious to Jouko's entrance, nudged Rubb and flicked her head in Verys' direction. "Thoersten was right about elves. They really do wear their breeches too tight!"

"Good morning to you as well, Jouko. Now, if we may return to the business at hand...."

"Indeed, Lady," said Rubb, attempting to change the subject before Zhandle could say anything indelicate about the elf's pants or their contents. "You promised us a castle! Zhan and I are most excited, I must say. We've never been to a real castle!"

"Very well, then. I've hired a coach to take us to Castle Teraknian. It should be arriving any moment."

"Shplendid," slurred Jouko, envisioning the gold and jewel bloated coffers of Castle Teraknian's vaults in his mind's eye.

Soon the party was coach-bound for High Market in the Noble District. From there, they took a ferry over to Castle Teraknian. Castle Teraknian was not in any of Sasserine's seven districts, and yet it belonged to all of them. Below the castle were the King's Crypts -- burial chambers for the Teraknian Line. This area had been closed off; the only portion of the castle basement still in use was the Noble's Vault, a place for Sasserine's nobility to store valuables away from their personal estates.

The party spent little time in the castle itself, stopping only to speak to a clerk who verified Lavinia's identity and her signet, and who then escorted them down a spiral staircase into a large circular chamber under the castle. Over a dozen five-foot-wide hallways radiated out from the central vault chamber; each of these halls was ten feet long and ended at a single iron door -- the entrance to a family vault.

While Rubb stared in awe at the surroundings, Zhandle nudged Verys, and asked rather directly, "I must know, how DOES your kind reproduce in such tight attire?" Without missing a beat, Verys solemnly responded, "It's an aqcuired skill, milady." Zhandle began to scrawl a note into the margins of her book. "Acquired skill," she muttered beneath her breath as she wrote.

Alarmed, Rubbumba took his eyes away from the splendors of the Noble's Vault and interrupted. "You must excuse my wife. She has taken to reading an adventuring book written by a dwarf. As a result, she was tipping the ale jug a bit early this morning."

Jouko blinked, seeming to just notice the elf for the first time. "Ahoy mate, ye be joining our merry band then, eh?"

"So it would seem. Pleasure to meet you."

Once again finding the need to divert attention from the elf and his breeches, Rubb loudly asked Lavinia, "So, which one of these hallways is YOUR hallway?"

The clerk indicated the appropriate hallway, though he did not accompany them into the Vanderboren vault; he simply bid them good day and headed off for his office in the castle above.

Lavinia walked down the short passageway tentatively. It ended at a solid-looking iron door. The portal was emblazoned with a simple rune -- an eight-pointed star. Rubb recognized the star symbol from the sign of a building on the western edge of the Merchant's District. Above the door, inscribed in flowing script on a polished silver plaque, was the name "Vanderboren." A single handle protruded from the door, just below a circular depression bearing the mark of the Vanderboren signet.

Lavinia hesitantly inserted her father's signet ring into the small depression above the door handle. The door flashed once with a blue light, then slowly swung open on creaking hinges. Lavinia stood aside and gestured to the party. "After you."

Rubbumba did not hesitate before plunging ahead into the room, excitedly. Verys strolled through calmly behind him, followed by Jouko, Gauruloc, and Zhandle, who finally removed her nose from her book and stowed it in her pack. The floor of the domed chamber was of polished green marble. Two fifteen-foot wide alcoves had lower ceilings and featured marble pillars carved to resemble coiling snakes. In the center of the room, five similar pillars were embedded into the walls, rising up thirty feet to a dome overhead. Looking up, the dome bore a huge representation of the same eight-pointed star that was engraved on the door to the south. "Wow," gasped Zhandle. She pulled out her flask of ale. According to Thoersten Coppersmiter's teachings, it was always good to take a swig of ale before the dung hit the wagon wheels.

Verys fluently pulled out his bow. Jouko flashed a golden grin at the elf, and whispered, "Easy, mate." Rubbumba scampered off to search the eastern alcove. Without warning, a three foot long construct, looking like a cobra made of dozens of circular iron bands fitted together to form a snakelike body, slithered out from hiding behind a pillar and struck! Rubb managed to come to a complete halt in mid-stride, narrowly dodging the construct's lethal looking fangs. Startled, the halfling drew his blade and desparately slashed at the creature. The little sword clanged harmlessly off the construct's metallic hide.

Gauruloc howled a challenge as he drew his sword and attacked, sending sparks up from the serpent's iron skin. Verys sighed as the orc lumbered into his line of sight, but let fly his arrow when a narrow opening in the melee appeared. At that moment the half-orc sidestepped, and Verys' arrow glanced harmlessly off Gauruloc's shield. Realizing that his arrows would be largely ineffective in the tight melee, Verys grasped his flail and stepped into the throng.

Jouko roared. "Mind ye don't spill that dwarven ale, wee lass, I'll be back for a swig." The sailor pulled his spiked chain from around his neck and scampered around the pillar. Rounding the pillar, he lashed out at the construct. The chain struck home with a chink, and seemed to get the construct's attention -- barely.

Heedless of Jouko's warning, Zhandle gasped and dropped her flask. She hastily cast a spell, creating an invisible but tangible protective field of force around Rubb. Rubb, Gauruloc, Verys and Jouko continued to rain blows down on the serpent, but they did little damage to its nigh impenetrable hide. Zhandle did manage to do some harm to the construct, peering between Gauruloc's legs and firing off a blast of arcane energy. Even that attack did not seem to slow the serpent. The serpent continued to attack, though Gauruloc's shield and Jouko's whirling chain had parried away its strikes thus far.

Realizing that the serpent's fangs would eventually find their target, and frustrated that his chain left nary a scratch on its hide, Jouko snarled, "Have you no control over this iron pet of yours, m'lady?"

Lavinia had been standing frozen near the entrance of the room, helplessly watching the combat. "Perhaps the sailor is right. Maybe the Vanderborens do hold some power over this thing...." She strode resolutely forth, brandishing her father's signet ring before her. "I command you be still, construct!" The iron cobra immediately became docile, lowering its hooded head and slinking away into the shadows.

Rubbumba sighed. "And Jouko saves the day with a smartass pirate comment?"

Zhandlegarrii echoed the sentiment. "Are you SERIOUS?!" She looked furious. "My poor Rubb was fighting for his life, and you could have stopped that thing at any ti...."

Zhandle's tirade was cut off as Jouko discreetly nudged her with his knee. He pressed his forefinger to his lips, and nodded his head towards the flask on the floor. "Now, about that drink, lass."

Shaken, but relieved, Lavinia said, "Forgive me. I did not know the beast would respond to my command."

Retrieving his arrow, Verys offered his encouragement. "Better late than never, my lady."

Scowling, Rubbumba completed his search of the room. He soon noticed that the snake patterns on the northernmost pillar recessed into the chamber's walls were different than the snake patterns on the other pillars. Rubb scratched his glabrous pate. "Hmm. Snakes. Medusae? Basilisks, perhaps? What do the snake patterns mean...?" He pulled out the mysterious parchment he found on the Blue Nixie and handed it to Lavinia. "Does this mean anything to you?"

"It's my father's handwriting. But I have no idea what it might mean."

Rubbumba focused his attention on the unusual pillar. This time, he found a cleverly hidden switch. Without pausing to consider potential complications, he triggered the switch. The snake designs on the pillar animated, writhing aside like living creatures, forming a coiling archway that opened into a previously hidden room.

"Impressive, snackling," grumbled Gauruloc.

The new room was octagonal, supported by a single large pillar with dozens of deep grooves along its sides. The seven walls of the room each bore fantastically detailed bas-relief carvings of exotic monsters in threatening poses. Starting at the wall immediately to the west of the entrance to the room and moving clockwise, the carvings depicted a tentacled monster with a glaring red eye and a mouth full of teeth, a looming red dragon, a fish-like creature with three eyes and four tentacles, a two-headed giant wielding a pair of immense clubs, a spherical creature with four eyestalks and a bulging central eye over a drooling maw, a gorilla-like beast with a fanged maw and six eyes, and finally a towering black spider with seven eyes. Each monster's eyes consisted of a glittering red stones. The ceiling above was only ten feet high, with the now-familiar eight-pointed star pattern radiating out from the grooved pillar. The arms of this star were black, save for the one pointing south toward the entrance, which was red.

Verys seemed almost entranced by the dragon carving. Jouko whistled long and low. "Don't that be forbodin'." Then, noting a distinct lack of booty, "Umm, m'lady...where be the treasure?"

"I -- I don't know. I don't understand this...."

"A menagerie of the damned, and not a single one from our little clue," said Gauruloc. Verys frowned with concern, still eyeing the dragon as if it might come to life at any moment.

Irked, Jouko said, "Well, we done our part, ye seen yer vault -- empty as it be."

"Wait," said Lavinia, "there must be something here. This must be some sort of puzzle."

Having learned from past experience, Rubbumba inspected the central pillar closely. He found that the grooved pillar in the room's center could be rotated in either direction. It did not rotate smoothly -- rather, it "clicked" in its socket as it rotated. As the pillar rotated, the eight-pointed star in the ceiling rotated as well, the red arm pointing to a new wall with each click.

"Lady Lavinia, what make you of this?" asked Verys.

"I'm sorry, I'm as bewildered as you. It makes no sense."

"Should we risk a random click?" asked Verys.

Gauruloc frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Align the star east first."

Rubb shrugged his little shoulders. "What have we got to lose?" He turned the pillar one click to the left.

Gauruloc growled. "No, align the star's arm with the proper wall, you insufferable maggotspawn."

Jouko suddenly beamed as if light had dawned on his begrimed face. "Ah, the half-orc is onto something. Sunrise, sunset -- east, west sounds to me!"

"Aye, the rumhound has it," confirmed Gauruloc.

Jouko clapped the half-orc chummily on the shoulder. "What say ye mate, let's spin this here capstan!" Jouko gave the pillar a turn to the right. Nothing happened. Jouko's shoulders slumped.

"Keep turning. Each monster on the parchment has a different number of eyes, as do the beasts on these walls. Align the pillar according to the eyes of the creatures on the parchment," said Gauruloc.

As the others worked at the puzzle, Rubb whispered to Zhandle. "What was that you said about dumb orcs, dear? Who wrote that book of yours, anyway?"

Zhandle hiccupped. "A dw--dwarf. A buh-brilliant, muh-masculine, duh-dwarf." Rubb noticed for the first time that Zhandle had been steadily sipping ale from her flask. It appeared she had been sharing with her pet toad, as well. She had taken it from one of her pouches, and it now drooped feebly on her shoulder.

"Um, Zhan, are you sure that stuff is safe for frogs?" As if in response, the toad let out an improbably long and loud belch. "Or haflings, for that matter?" The couple was interrupted as the others completed the combination, and the entire room began to rumble. The five alcoves rotated in place, revealing a number of coffers and chests.

Most of the 20 chests in the vault were empty, a meager total of 36 silver coins remaining in the first 16 chests searched. As more and more chests turned up virtually empty, Lavinia grew increasingly distraught. Finally, in the last alcove, there was a reprieve -- several of the chests there remained untouched. In all, there was 2,900 gp in coins and gems left in these chests, along with a large number of ledgers and a small iron coffer containing a thick pile of documents. Most of the ledgers listed debts owed to the Vanderborens from guilds and noble families in Sasserine -- it seemed that Lavinia's parents made a practice of doing dangerous favors for numerous organizations in Sasserine, yet rarely bothered to collect rewards. Instead, they allowed their patrons to keep the rewards with the understanding that they could collect at any time.

"It appears your forbears were not very penny-wise, woman," Gauruloc bluntly observed. Jouko picked up a large gem and held it up to the light, eyeing it closely. Lavinia frowned, somewhat distraught. The documents in the iron coffer were written in Lavinia's mother's handwriting, but in a strange language Lavinia did not recognize, although she and Verys recognized the letters as being elven. Included in the documents were several maps of jungles, coastlines, and other regions that seemed to represent some unknown tropical location. The document also included dozens of sketches of strange, exotic creatures.

"Between the gold here and the debts owed my family, I should now have more than enough to pay the back taxes and begin setting my estate back in order. Nevertheless, the empty chests here concern me greatly. It shall be a rough year, especially if my aunt and uncle in Cauldron can't help out in the months to come. But at least I now have enough to carry on." Lavinia paid Rubbumba, Zhandle, Jouko and Gauruloc 200 gold coins each, as she had promised.

Jouko smiled broadly. "Seems ye may be in need of further help, m'lady. We'll glady serve yer needs." Jouko puncuated his statment by pointing at the rest of the party, the large gem still in his hand.

"Thank you, Jouko, I appreciate that. And I know you'll be so kind as to leave that gem where you found it."

"Oh. Um, er, yes, but of course, m'lady." Jouko reluctantly placed the gem back in its chest.

As they were leaving Castle Teraknian, Lavinia stopped and asked the clerk if anyone had visited the Vanderboren vault recently. "Why, yes. Your brother, Vanthus, visited the vault several times over the past month."

"That can't be -- he's been missing for a month, and I have given him no authority to enter the vault!"

The clerk seemed shocked by this revelation. "I -- I'm sorry, milady, I had no idea that you were unaware. Your brother had a proper signet ring, and I recognized him as a Vanderboren. I shall certainly inform you if he tries to enter the vault again."

Lavinia turned to the party, looking utterly disheartened. "Well. I suppose that explains the shortage in the family vault."

Verys asked, "Do you think your brother to be in some trouble?"

"Yes, Verys, I'm afraid so. I'm afraid Vanthus may be in a world of trouble...."

Gauruloc grumbled. "Typical human theatre. They prefer a knife in the back to an axe in the throat. The axe is simpler."

Lavinia didn't seem to hear the half-orc's comment, lost in thought as she was. "Thank you for your service," she mumbled absently. "It seems I will have further need of you. Please, come visit me as soon as possible regarding an even more important commission."