ADVENTURE 63: TRIAL AND ERROR
PC Roster:
NPC Roster:
Game Session Date: 11 November 2023
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"Excuse me," said a scruffy-looking man in the marketplace, "but is your name Wakuren by any chance?"
Wakuren looked down at the man, noting the tattered cloak he wore over his shabby clothing. He didn't recall having ever met the man before, so how he came to know his name was a mystery to the half-orc. Still, he had no reason not to answer. "I am," he admitted, curious as to where this might go.
"I thought so!" beamed the stranger. "There aren't many half-orcs wearing the mark of Holy Cal on their shield and armor!" Then he pulled a short sword out a scabbard at his hip, holding it out before him. "Forgive me: my name is Benningham, and I wonder if I might get you to bless my blade? Y'see, I've got a tournament t'morrow, and I'd certainly take any aid I might be able to get, and the stories of your exploits are a bit legendary around town...."
Wakuren smiled down at the man, realizing he wasn't asking specifically for a bless spell, merely for the cleric-paladin to say a few words over his blade. Taking the proffered weapon reverently in his hands, Wakuren intoned, "May this blade strike true, if the wielder be truly worthy" - that way, he thought, if the poor sod doesn't do well in his tourney he won't be able to blame Cal for his shortcomings. He returned the blade to its owner, who took it back in two hands.
"Many thanks!" gushed Benningham, turning to his side to stick the tip of the blade into the open end of the scabbard. Wakuren had pretty much stopped paying attention to the man at that point, and thus missed the hand signal he gave to others in the marketplace observing the interaction with great interest. Then, no longer pretending to stash his blade away, he spun in place and thrust forward with his weapon, the point slicing through the air straight at Wakuren.
But although Wakuren hadn't picked up the scruffy human as a threat, he heard the swish of the blade as it approached him and he brought the shield of Cal over instinctively to block the blow. The crash of metal on metal could be heard across the whole marketplace, causing conversations and haggling over prices to pause momentarily as people looked around to see what the commotion was all about.
Another man, this one astride a riding horse, kicked his mount forward as he drew his own greatsword from his back. "Look out!" Fandolph cried, shouting a warning to the crowd. "The half-orc's gone crazy - he's attacking people!" Wakuren involuntarily turned his head to see to this new threat spouting lies about him, playing right into the mercenary group's hands - for it allowed another rogue, Chutney, to dart forward and stab at the half-orc with his own short sword. He managed to catch Wakuren in the side, his blade stabbing expertly in the seam between the front and back halves of his armor. Chutney gave the blade a nasty twist before pulling it out, causing Wakuren to gasp in pain.
But there was still another ambusher yet to attack. Crouched on a rooftop across the street from Wakuren, who had just about been to enter the shop after Thurloe to pick up the magic ring the spellsword had commissioned several days ago, was an elven ranger observing his comrades' attacks with interest. He rose to his feet, aimed a notched arrow down at his target, and let fly. Wakuren, still stumbling from Chutney's successful sneak attack, was hit in the right shoulder by Krispin's arrow. And then Fandolph's horse got the fighter within range and he swung his greatsword at Wakuren, catching him in the left arm despite the half-orc's best effort to get his shield up in time to block the blow. Wakuren turned to face this new threat and was stabbed in the back of the thigh by Benningham, the mercenary sent ahead to ensure they had the right target before they pounced. "Guess I must be worthy!" he chuckled aloud.
The locals started racing away from the combat, not wanting to get involved, while two city guardsmen approached, calling out, "What's going on here, then?" They were armed with polearms held in both hands.
But they weren't the only ones to have heard the sounds of combat. Down the street, Alewyth darted back out of the wand-maker's shop she'd been visiting (and at which she'd picked up a wand of stoneskin for her upcoming trip to Talonia) and started running towards Wakuren at her best speed. Xandro and Robin, who had been out in the street nearby, followed suit. Zander, who had been looking at a series of metamagic rods, stepped out of the shop, saw the elf ranger on the rooftop aiming his next arrow down at Wakuren, and decided to put a stop to that. Calling out the arcane syllables needed to cast the spell, the elf sorcerer cast an Elobar's black tentacles spell that caused thick, rubbery appendages to rise up from the rooftop and wrap themselves around Krispin. The ranger swore in surprise, his shot having been ruined by the sudden and unexpected attack. He tried freeing himself from the black tentacles, to no avail. From his perch on his master's shoulder, Petey snorted his approval.
But Chutney found another opening in Wakuren's defenses and stabbed forward with his blade again. The half-orc was a fairly accomplished combatant, but these three-on-one odds weren't helping him any. Fortunately, just as he recognized the opening chords to Robin's song of inspirational courage, Thurloe kicked open the door to the shop, his new ring of comfort on his left ring finger and his bastard sword Spellslicer gripped tightly in his right. Gleaming in his golden celestial armor - purchased that very morning before heading over to pick up his ring - he started combat with ranged spellcraft, casting a ray of exhaustion spell at Benningham, striking the deceitful rogue in his chest.
Wakuren stepped away from his attackers and cast a greater command spell, the command "Drop!" echoing across the marketplace. Fandolph immediately dropped his greatsword, which fell to the ground beside his horse. Chutney likewise dropped his short sword, although Benningham managed to ignore the magical compulsion and kept his own blade in his hand. Instead, he used it to stab at Thurloe, who was standing between him and Wakuren. Benningham's look of determination expressed his belief that taking down Thurloe to get to the half-orc would be a simple matter, until the spellsword caught his attack on his own shield and contemptuously batted it aside.
Alewyth got within range and cast a spell of her own: calm emotions, which encompassed the two human rogues and the fighter but also Wakuren and Thurloe. Xandro was there beside her, casting a charm person spell on the fighter astride the horse, but it didn't seem to have any effect. The combatants seemed to have fallen sway to the dwarf's spell, though, for none of them continued the battle they'd started.
Zander moved up by Alewyth, casting a mage armor spell on himself and Petey before determining the fight seemed to be over already. Then Benningham seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head furiously and tightening his grip on his weapon. But before he could strike with it, Petey was in his face, stabbing the rogue in the neck with his envenomed tail. Benningham fell face-forward into the street, already snoring from the pseudodragon's poisoned stinger.
Robin caught up to the others, still playing her magical tune. Up on the rooftop, Krispin the elf managed to wriggle his way out of the constricting tentacles of Zander's spell, and leapt over to a nearby roof - one that didn't have writhing tentacles sprouting up from it. But as he saw the events down below on the street - Benningham out cold, and Chutney and Fandolph no longer attacking, plus a pair of guardsmen arriving on the side and pulling the combatants apart, the elf decided the ambush was over. That's the way it went sometimes; it would have been a good bounty, but it apparently wasn't in the cards this time. He dropped to street level, stowed away his bow, and lost himself in the crowd.
Thurloe tried hitting Chutney with his bastard sword but the guards weren't having any of it, the two of them pulling the foes apart. "They started it!" complained the spellsword. "They attacked Wakuren for no reason!" The guards looked over to the heavily-wounded half-orc - there was no hiding the fact that he'd been done a world of hurt by his numerous enemies. But Wakuren cast a cure critical wounds spell upon himself, enhancing the healing spell with a daily charge from his ring of mystic healing. Immediately, his gashes and cuts healed up and his flesh wove itself back together, although the spell did nothing to hide the bloodstains marking where his wounds had been a moment ago.
Alewyth tried casting a hold person spell upon Fandolph, but although the fighter resisted her latest spell he was apparently still under the effects of the calm emotions spell she'd cast earlier. He dropped down from his horse, looking expectantly at the two guards.
But then, before anyone else could say anything, a procession of men and horses turned the corner and marched down the streets. Six of the heavily-armored men sat upon muscular warhorses, with two other men on foot at their sides. All wore the holy symbol of Cal upon their shields and the tabards covering their armor.
"Wakuren the Half-Breed," called out one of the clerics, "you stand accused of the murder of Peter Dublinson! Lay down your weapons and surrender to the forces appointed by the High Cleric, Father Peartree. I am instructed to warn you we have been authorized the use of deadly force if you do not cooperate. If you do not surrender peacefully, you will be taken by force before the High Cleric, and you can state your version of events to him, should you survive the encounter. What say you, renegade of the Church?"
Wakuren sighed and passed his shield of Cal over to Thurloe for safe keeping, then raised his hands in surrender. "I murdered no one," he declared, "but I will come with you peacefully."
In a moment, the paladins and clerics had surrounded the area. One paladin called over for Thurloe to hand over the shield of Cal. Thurloe looked up at him, and said, "Wakuren asked me to hold it for him."
"Hand the shield over NOW, sir!" demanded the paladin, his hand on his longsword. He almost looked as if he hoped Thurloe would give him an excuse to initiate combat. But Wakuren nodded his okay, and Thurloe passed it over. "Only because Wakuren said it was okay," Thurloe said, not wanting the paladin to think the spellsword had been intimidated by him.
The group of paladins and the two clerics escorted Wakuren out of the marketplace and to the Temple of Cal. The other heroes followed, not wanting to let Wakuren out of their sight for fear of what the Cal devotees might do. Thurloe looked as if he desperately wanted to ask Wakuren a question, but dared not in front of those arresting him for suspected murder. Still, the half-orc saw the question in Thurloe's expression and told him, "No, they're not." Wakuren knew full well it still irked Thurloe that as the group's only paladin, Wakuren was the only one able to examine a person's aura for the telltale signs of evil.
Once at the temple, Wakuren was taken away and the others were directed to the courtroom where the investigation would commence. "So soon?" asked Zander.
"No point in waiting, when there are zone of truth spells at hand," Alewyth pointed out. A page directed them to a stall where they'd need to turn in their weapons if they were going to attend the trial. It worked rather like a coatroom, with the attendants writing down the name of the owner and making a list of all weapons turned over, then placing them all into a locker and closing it with a key. The owner then signed his agreement about the contents placed into the locker and was told he could come sign for his items after the trial.
"What about this?" asked Xandro, holding up his figurine of wondrous power carved in the shape of a dire tiger. "It's not technically a weapon."
"You cannot bring that into the courtroom, sir," admonished the clerk behind the counter. Xandro passed it over and it got added to the weapons in his assigned locker. Once all of that had been taken care of, they entered the courtroom through a set of double doors flanked by a pair of paladins of Cal. The back half of the room beyond was filled with two rows of pews, much like in a church, while the front half had the judge's bench on a raised platform, tables and chairs for the court reporter, the prosecutor, and the defendant, each with their own legal representative. The heroes took their places in the pews, Xandro and Robin taking one back corner and Alewyth and Zander taking the other. Thurloe opted to sit up front, to get a better view.
Before long, a quartet of individuals entered the room from a side door. Wakuren and his legal representative, a young human woman, took their seats at one table while the prosecutor and Wakuren's accuser, a stern-faced human woman of middle age, sat at their table. After a moment, the scribe entered and took his seat at the reporter's desk, a large tome open and ready to have the details of this case entered into the court records. Wakuren had been stripped of his armor and all possessions, wearing only the clothes he wore beneath his armor; presumably, he'd be given his items back after he was found not guilty of the ridiculous claim leveled against him.
A paladin entered the room and commanded everyone to rise for the appearance of the High Cleric. Father Peartree entered the courtroom and climbed the short set of steps leading to his bench, positioned in front of a 10-foot-tall statue of the All-Father Cal, leader of the deific pantheon. "Take your seats," he commanded. Father Peartree had aged considerably since the last time Wakuren had seen him, the day that he was to have graduated as a cleric of the Port Duralia Temple of Cleric. Wakuren had been set up by others in his graduating class, falsely made to look like a thieving drunkard that had resulted in the half-orc's last-minute expulsion from the temple. His hair was noticeably whiter, and the lines under his eyes deeper.
"Is the zone of truth ready for use?" Father Peartree asked, and received confirmation that all was in readiness. "If the accused would stand within the circle?" he asked, and Wakuren stood up and moved to comply - there was a circle inscribed on the floor between the prosecution and defendant tables. As soon as he stepped within, the circle began glowing with a magical radiance. "Wakuren, you have been accused of the murder of one of the clerics of this temple, Peter Dublinson. How do you plead?"
"I am not guilty," Wakuren announced without hesitation, causing the woman at the prosecutor's table to grind her teeth in disbelief and frustration. Several clerics in the courtroom had cast discern lies spells, and they nodded at the High Cleric at the accuracy of the half-orc's statement.
"Bring in the item in question," commanded Father Peartree, and a page stepped into the courtroom carrying the shield of Cal. He stood before Wakuren, holding the shield up so he could see the holy emblem of Cal inscribed on its front face.
"This is the shield of Cal, presented to Peter Dublinson on the day of his graduation. Have you seen it before?" Father Peartree asked Wakuren.
"I have."
"You have been seen carrying this shield throughout Port Duralia since your arrival in town. Do you deny this?"
"I do not."
"Naturally, the fact that you were carrying a shield that had been granted to Peter was a cause of some consternation to his parents." The woman behind the prosecution table narrowed her eyes in hatred at Wakuren; he quickly deduced this was likely Peter's mother. "At their request, divination spells were cast that indicated that Peter Dublinson was no longer among the living. Given those facts, the Dublinsons requested you be brought in for the murder of their son. Would you care to describe how you came to be in possession of Peter Dublinson's shield?"
"I would be glad to do so," replied Wakuren, determined to be on his very best behavior in front of the members of the temple who chose to believe him to be little more than a rampaging animal, by simple dint of fact that his unknown father had been a ravaging orc bandit. He explained how he and his adventuring companions had encountered a yellow musk creeper outside an abandoned mine near the town of Moon Creek, and how Peter Dublinson and a companion of his own had apparently been slain by the plant and their corpses reanimated as yellow musk zombies. Wakuren admitted that he and his companions had put the zombies to rest, but emphasized the two had already been dead long before he and his friends had first entered Moon Creek.
Father Peartree turned to his subordinate clerics, who all gave him indications that Wakuren had told the truth during his statements.
"It's a trick!" exploded Wysterna Dublinson. "The damned orc has found a way to lie his way past zone of truth spells, that's all this is! He killed my son!"
"And I imagine it was you who put a price on my head as a result?" Wakuren countered. "I had to fight off a group of bounty hunters immediately before my arrest!"
"I'm not the one on trial here, you mongrel orc!" roared Wysterna Dublinson, as behind her in the front row of pews, her husband Lloyd tried shushing her.
Father Peartree pounded his gavel on the desk before him and called for order. Wysterna's legal advisor calmed her down, and the High Cleric continued. "While it is unlikely that Wakuren has been able to bypass the zone of truth and discern lies spells cast in his direction, I will cast a commune spell, and speak with Cal's emissaries directly. We will have order in this courtroom while I make the necessary preparations." Wysterna, seething, said nothing but fired daggers at Wakuren as he resumed his seat at his legal advisor's side.
After ten minutes of preparation, which involved the lighting of several sticks of incense around his table while several acolytes chanted around him, Father Peartree indicated he was ready to cast the commune spell. "Emissaries of the All-Father Cal, God of the Air and of Healing, we your earthly servants beseech thee to aid us in our investigations by answering these questions." Then, consulting the questions he most wanted answered (of which he'd made a mental list while preparing the spell), he asked, "Did Wakuren slay Peter Dublinson?"
There was silence in the courtroom as everyone leaned forward, hardly daring to breathe while waiting for a response. The response, when it came, was a single word - as was the norm with the commune spell - but it came from an unusual source: the statue of Cal at the back of the courtroom.
"NO."
"Was Peter Dublinson slain in an earlier encounter with a yellow musk creeper in the vicinity of a mine near Moon Creek?"
Again, after a suitable pause, the statue replied with a one-word answer: "YES." The sound of Wysterna's disgusted snort could be heard all across the otherwise silent courtroom.
That was really the only questions needed to be answered to clear Wakuren of the murder of his one-time classmate. Still, since the spell was still active and Father Peartree could ask up to a dozen questions, he asked several more that he wanted answered, for his own peace of mind. "Is it the will of the All-Father Cal that the shield of Cal be allowed to remain in the hands of Wakuren?"
Again a pause, then "YES."
"Does the All-Father Cal recognize Wakuren as both a cleric and a paladin of His order in good standing?" Wakuren in particular was somewhat surprised at this question, for he had long decided Cal considered him such, given that He provided the half-orc the spells for which he prayed each morning.
After a pause, the answer came: "YES."
That was all Wysterna could handle - this was a farce of some type; the High Priest obviously didn't want a scandal on his hands and was faking this charade to bury the crime! Rising from her seat, she began waving her hands around hysterically and voicing arcane words that brought forth a six-limbed monstrosity into the courtroom. With a whiff of brimstone permeating the air, the fiendish girallon roared in rage and leaped at Wakuren, sending a parallel series of claw-slashes across the half-orc's chest. Wakuren's first act was to push his legal advisor out of the way, making sure she was safe from the reach of the Hellish, four-armed monstrosity.
Thurloe was without his bastard sword, so he cast a ray of enfeeblement spell at the fiendish girallon, managing to bypass the fiend's inherent resistance to spell energies and draining the beast of some of its unholy strength. Then he turned and fled, not out of fear but in a desire to go fetch Spellslicer from the room just outside the doors to the courtroom. Pulling open the double doors, he yelled to the attendant, "I need my sword--now!" One of the paladins guarding the doors put a hand to his own sword and looked to give the spellsword a hard time for his outburst, but the other one got a look at the girallon at the front of the courtroom and verified Thurloe's need. "Get him his sword, quick!" the paladin called to the attendant.
"Mine, too!" said Xandro, who had popped out the doors behind Thurloe. He took the opportunity to cast a heroism spell on the spellsword, confident that he'd get to combat before Xandro would.
Wysterna pushed her legal advisor out of the way and cast another spell, this one a disintegrate spell directly at Wakuren, hoping to slay her son's killer one way or the other. The spell hit the half-orc and ate away at his clothing and his skin, but it failed to transform him into a pile of disparate particles as she'd hoped. But it was entirely possible the fiendish girallon would get the job done for her, after all. Pouncing at the half-orc, it slashed away with four sets of claws and bit at him with its wicked mouth of horrid fangs, then dug its claws in and wrenched them away, digging furrows through the flesh of Wakuren's chest. He collapsed to the floor immediately, in far worse shape than he'd been after the three-on-one fight against the bounty hunters he'd fought in the marketplace. If he didn't receive some sort of healing in the next few seconds, it was likely he'd be a murder victim instead of a murder suspect.
Fortunately, Alewyth had come to the realization as soon as she saw Wakuren drop. Ignoring her own safety, she leaped over the railing separating the observers from the active participants in the courtroom and laid her hands upon her friend's spurting chest, casting a heal spell upon him that immediately sealed up the gashes and rents in his wounded flesh.
Zander stood up and cast a spell of his own, but his was more of the retributive type: a chain lightning spell channeled through his ring of mystic lightning - which empowered it all the more - directed at Wysterna Dublinson and arcing over to hit the fiendish girallon. The elf had chosen his targets thusly for several reasons: first, he was aware that if his spell struck the girallon first and was fizzled away to nothingness from the beast's inherent spell resistance, there would be no arcing over to Wysterna; second, he just didn't like the close-minded spellcaster one bit, and was willing to bet he wouldn't get into any trouble for attacking her after she'd already cast spells to attack Wakuren, almost resulting in his death. Both targets writhed in pain at the sudden attack from the back of the room.
Petey leaped from Zander's shoulder and sought some rough justice of his own. His tail-stinger stabbed into the side of Wysterna's neck, but she refused to succumb to the sleep venom now coursing through her veins.
Still somewhat dazed from his close brush with death, Wakuren stood up - taking another set of gashes from a pair of sharp claws as he did so - and backed away from his fiendish attacker, casting a magic circle against evil spell upon himself. Then he bravely stood his ground, knowing full well a summoned creature couldn't even touch him when he was so protected. In the back of the room, he could hear Robin start playing her song of inspirational courage, and allowed the chords to boost his confidence even more.
The paladin in charge of keeping order in the court sprang forward, bringing his longsword to bear against the white-furred intruder in the courtroom. He grinned to see a patch of white fur stained red with blood as a result of his attack. And up on the bench, Father Peartree banged his gavel and called for order, then hurriedly cast a magic circle against evil spell on himself.
"Hurry, hurry!" demanded Thurloe as the clerk unlocked the container holding Spellslicer and the spellsword's other contraband weapons. He ignored everything else, grabbing up his familiar bastard sword and running back into the courtroom, heading down the central aisle between the two rows of pews. "Mine next!" called Xandro, pointing to which locker held his rapier Deathwhisper.
Wysterna faced off against Wakuren and cast a cone of cold spell at the killer of her beloved son Peter, no matter what anyone else had to say on the subject. She fired wildly, not caring who all she hit as long as she got the blasted half-orc. Petey stabbed her again as she did so but the venom was once again ineffective; no doubt her rage if nothing else at least temporarily provided a counter to the sleep poison. But her blast of cold energy hit not only Wakuren but her own summoned fiendish girallon, Father Peartree, Alewyth, and Wakuren's defense advisor - the paladin fighting off the girallon was fortunately blocked from the worst of the spell by the massive body of the foe he was fighting. Wakuren's counsel fell to the floor, dead; Father Peartree slumped over at his bench, possibly dead as well but at the very least knocked into unconsciousness.
With a roar, the fiendish girallon struck at Wakuren again - and frowned in puzzlement as his claws stopped just short of the half-orc's body, shielded by some sort of magical force preventing the summoned creature from touching him. Roaring in even greater fury, he tried attacking from a different angle but got the same results. Alewyth took the opportunity to cast a banishment spell at the six-limbed simian, but even though her spell made it past his natural resistance he still managed to shrug off the effects. It took another chain lightning spell from Zander Quilson to put an end to the combat; his spell dropped Wysterna in her tracks and slew the fiendish girallon as well. The woman's corpse fell to the floor, while the ape's disappeared completely, returning to the Hell from which it had been summoned. No longer with a foe to attack, Petey flew back over to his master, alighting on Zander's shoulder.
Wakuren cast a mass cure light wounds spell, once again augmented by his ring. Father Peartree rose himself back up into consciousness as a result, while wounds healed up on Wakuren and the paladin who'd helped him fight off the girallon. Alewyth, unfortunately, was out of range, and Wakuren's defender's body had taken too much damage from Wysterna's cone of cold spell for Wakuren's to be of any help - she was too far gone.
Looking down at the chaos of his courtroom, Father Peartree pounded again with his gavel and called for order. Lloyd Dublinson, who had scrambled over the railing to see to his dead wife, looked up at the High Cleric with a sad look on his face, but apparently realized his grief-stricken spouse had brought her own death upon herself.
"It is the finding of this court that Wakuren is not guilty in the death of Peter Dublinson. He will retain the shield of Cal and from this point forward, let it be known that despite never having gone through an official graduation ceremony from this temple, Wakuren is hereby a fully-recognized cleric and paladin of Cal, with this Port Duralia Temple of Cal to be considered his home temple. Court stands adjourned; have the pages bring the body of our slain defender to the resurrection room." Then he stood up and departed the courtroom for his adjoining office as his underlings moved to comply with his orders. A paladin approached Lloyd Dublinson, but the man waved him off. "I've got her," he said, scooping his dead wife's body up in his arms.
"I am sorry for the loss of your son, and now for the loss of your wife," Wakuren said to Lloyd Dublinson. Lloyd opened his mouth to say something, then just nodded and turned away.
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This adventure went pretty much as I had intended - I wrote it as closure on Wakuren's status with the Port Duralia Temple of Cal where he'd been raised - but the players still managed to throw me some curves. Krispin's next action was going to be summoning a giant eagle, from which he's snipe down at Wakuren as he flew around the marketplace, but Zander's casting of an Elobar's black tentacles spell put that idea to rest. And I hadn't anticipated Alewyth taking the bounty hunters out so easily with her calm emotions spell. Fortunately, I had the clerics and paladins of Cal as a backup source of potential combat, although I had been pretty sure Logan would have Wakuren surrender peacefully as he did.
When I had Wysterna cast the summoning spell to bring forth a fiendish girallon, Logan scoffed, "What kind of temple doesn't have some sort of magical protection in place to prevent summoned monsters from running amok?" - to which I answered, "The kind that makes for a more exciting adventure!" He agreed with me on that point.
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T-shirt worn: My "Iron Man 2" T-shirt, as it depicts two men in armor (Tony and Rhodey) who should be allies but spent a time as enemies - much like Wakuren and the paladins of Cal.
PC Roster:
Alewyth Putterpye, dwarf priestess of Aerik 13
Thurloe Pulver, human fighter 3/wizard 3/spellsword 7
Wakuren, half-orc cleric of Cal 7/paladin 6
Xandro Silverstrings, human bard 6/rogue 7
Zander Quilson, elf sorcerer 13
NPC Roster:
Robin the Balladeer, human bard 4
Game Session Date: 11 November 2023
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"Excuse me," said a scruffy-looking man in the marketplace, "but is your name Wakuren by any chance?"
Wakuren looked down at the man, noting the tattered cloak he wore over his shabby clothing. He didn't recall having ever met the man before, so how he came to know his name was a mystery to the half-orc. Still, he had no reason not to answer. "I am," he admitted, curious as to where this might go.
"I thought so!" beamed the stranger. "There aren't many half-orcs wearing the mark of Holy Cal on their shield and armor!" Then he pulled a short sword out a scabbard at his hip, holding it out before him. "Forgive me: my name is Benningham, and I wonder if I might get you to bless my blade? Y'see, I've got a tournament t'morrow, and I'd certainly take any aid I might be able to get, and the stories of your exploits are a bit legendary around town...."
Wakuren smiled down at the man, realizing he wasn't asking specifically for a bless spell, merely for the cleric-paladin to say a few words over his blade. Taking the proffered weapon reverently in his hands, Wakuren intoned, "May this blade strike true, if the wielder be truly worthy" - that way, he thought, if the poor sod doesn't do well in his tourney he won't be able to blame Cal for his shortcomings. He returned the blade to its owner, who took it back in two hands.
"Many thanks!" gushed Benningham, turning to his side to stick the tip of the blade into the open end of the scabbard. Wakuren had pretty much stopped paying attention to the man at that point, and thus missed the hand signal he gave to others in the marketplace observing the interaction with great interest. Then, no longer pretending to stash his blade away, he spun in place and thrust forward with his weapon, the point slicing through the air straight at Wakuren.
But although Wakuren hadn't picked up the scruffy human as a threat, he heard the swish of the blade as it approached him and he brought the shield of Cal over instinctively to block the blow. The crash of metal on metal could be heard across the whole marketplace, causing conversations and haggling over prices to pause momentarily as people looked around to see what the commotion was all about.
Another man, this one astride a riding horse, kicked his mount forward as he drew his own greatsword from his back. "Look out!" Fandolph cried, shouting a warning to the crowd. "The half-orc's gone crazy - he's attacking people!" Wakuren involuntarily turned his head to see to this new threat spouting lies about him, playing right into the mercenary group's hands - for it allowed another rogue, Chutney, to dart forward and stab at the half-orc with his own short sword. He managed to catch Wakuren in the side, his blade stabbing expertly in the seam between the front and back halves of his armor. Chutney gave the blade a nasty twist before pulling it out, causing Wakuren to gasp in pain.
But there was still another ambusher yet to attack. Crouched on a rooftop across the street from Wakuren, who had just about been to enter the shop after Thurloe to pick up the magic ring the spellsword had commissioned several days ago, was an elven ranger observing his comrades' attacks with interest. He rose to his feet, aimed a notched arrow down at his target, and let fly. Wakuren, still stumbling from Chutney's successful sneak attack, was hit in the right shoulder by Krispin's arrow. And then Fandolph's horse got the fighter within range and he swung his greatsword at Wakuren, catching him in the left arm despite the half-orc's best effort to get his shield up in time to block the blow. Wakuren turned to face this new threat and was stabbed in the back of the thigh by Benningham, the mercenary sent ahead to ensure they had the right target before they pounced. "Guess I must be worthy!" he chuckled aloud.
The locals started racing away from the combat, not wanting to get involved, while two city guardsmen approached, calling out, "What's going on here, then?" They were armed with polearms held in both hands.
But they weren't the only ones to have heard the sounds of combat. Down the street, Alewyth darted back out of the wand-maker's shop she'd been visiting (and at which she'd picked up a wand of stoneskin for her upcoming trip to Talonia) and started running towards Wakuren at her best speed. Xandro and Robin, who had been out in the street nearby, followed suit. Zander, who had been looking at a series of metamagic rods, stepped out of the shop, saw the elf ranger on the rooftop aiming his next arrow down at Wakuren, and decided to put a stop to that. Calling out the arcane syllables needed to cast the spell, the elf sorcerer cast an Elobar's black tentacles spell that caused thick, rubbery appendages to rise up from the rooftop and wrap themselves around Krispin. The ranger swore in surprise, his shot having been ruined by the sudden and unexpected attack. He tried freeing himself from the black tentacles, to no avail. From his perch on his master's shoulder, Petey snorted his approval.
But Chutney found another opening in Wakuren's defenses and stabbed forward with his blade again. The half-orc was a fairly accomplished combatant, but these three-on-one odds weren't helping him any. Fortunately, just as he recognized the opening chords to Robin's song of inspirational courage, Thurloe kicked open the door to the shop, his new ring of comfort on his left ring finger and his bastard sword Spellslicer gripped tightly in his right. Gleaming in his golden celestial armor - purchased that very morning before heading over to pick up his ring - he started combat with ranged spellcraft, casting a ray of exhaustion spell at Benningham, striking the deceitful rogue in his chest.
Wakuren stepped away from his attackers and cast a greater command spell, the command "Drop!" echoing across the marketplace. Fandolph immediately dropped his greatsword, which fell to the ground beside his horse. Chutney likewise dropped his short sword, although Benningham managed to ignore the magical compulsion and kept his own blade in his hand. Instead, he used it to stab at Thurloe, who was standing between him and Wakuren. Benningham's look of determination expressed his belief that taking down Thurloe to get to the half-orc would be a simple matter, until the spellsword caught his attack on his own shield and contemptuously batted it aside.
Alewyth got within range and cast a spell of her own: calm emotions, which encompassed the two human rogues and the fighter but also Wakuren and Thurloe. Xandro was there beside her, casting a charm person spell on the fighter astride the horse, but it didn't seem to have any effect. The combatants seemed to have fallen sway to the dwarf's spell, though, for none of them continued the battle they'd started.
Zander moved up by Alewyth, casting a mage armor spell on himself and Petey before determining the fight seemed to be over already. Then Benningham seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head furiously and tightening his grip on his weapon. But before he could strike with it, Petey was in his face, stabbing the rogue in the neck with his envenomed tail. Benningham fell face-forward into the street, already snoring from the pseudodragon's poisoned stinger.
Robin caught up to the others, still playing her magical tune. Up on the rooftop, Krispin the elf managed to wriggle his way out of the constricting tentacles of Zander's spell, and leapt over to a nearby roof - one that didn't have writhing tentacles sprouting up from it. But as he saw the events down below on the street - Benningham out cold, and Chutney and Fandolph no longer attacking, plus a pair of guardsmen arriving on the side and pulling the combatants apart, the elf decided the ambush was over. That's the way it went sometimes; it would have been a good bounty, but it apparently wasn't in the cards this time. He dropped to street level, stowed away his bow, and lost himself in the crowd.
Thurloe tried hitting Chutney with his bastard sword but the guards weren't having any of it, the two of them pulling the foes apart. "They started it!" complained the spellsword. "They attacked Wakuren for no reason!" The guards looked over to the heavily-wounded half-orc - there was no hiding the fact that he'd been done a world of hurt by his numerous enemies. But Wakuren cast a cure critical wounds spell upon himself, enhancing the healing spell with a daily charge from his ring of mystic healing. Immediately, his gashes and cuts healed up and his flesh wove itself back together, although the spell did nothing to hide the bloodstains marking where his wounds had been a moment ago.
Alewyth tried casting a hold person spell upon Fandolph, but although the fighter resisted her latest spell he was apparently still under the effects of the calm emotions spell she'd cast earlier. He dropped down from his horse, looking expectantly at the two guards.
But then, before anyone else could say anything, a procession of men and horses turned the corner and marched down the streets. Six of the heavily-armored men sat upon muscular warhorses, with two other men on foot at their sides. All wore the holy symbol of Cal upon their shields and the tabards covering their armor.
"Wakuren the Half-Breed," called out one of the clerics, "you stand accused of the murder of Peter Dublinson! Lay down your weapons and surrender to the forces appointed by the High Cleric, Father Peartree. I am instructed to warn you we have been authorized the use of deadly force if you do not cooperate. If you do not surrender peacefully, you will be taken by force before the High Cleric, and you can state your version of events to him, should you survive the encounter. What say you, renegade of the Church?"
Wakuren sighed and passed his shield of Cal over to Thurloe for safe keeping, then raised his hands in surrender. "I murdered no one," he declared, "but I will come with you peacefully."
In a moment, the paladins and clerics had surrounded the area. One paladin called over for Thurloe to hand over the shield of Cal. Thurloe looked up at him, and said, "Wakuren asked me to hold it for him."
"Hand the shield over NOW, sir!" demanded the paladin, his hand on his longsword. He almost looked as if he hoped Thurloe would give him an excuse to initiate combat. But Wakuren nodded his okay, and Thurloe passed it over. "Only because Wakuren said it was okay," Thurloe said, not wanting the paladin to think the spellsword had been intimidated by him.
The group of paladins and the two clerics escorted Wakuren out of the marketplace and to the Temple of Cal. The other heroes followed, not wanting to let Wakuren out of their sight for fear of what the Cal devotees might do. Thurloe looked as if he desperately wanted to ask Wakuren a question, but dared not in front of those arresting him for suspected murder. Still, the half-orc saw the question in Thurloe's expression and told him, "No, they're not." Wakuren knew full well it still irked Thurloe that as the group's only paladin, Wakuren was the only one able to examine a person's aura for the telltale signs of evil.
Once at the temple, Wakuren was taken away and the others were directed to the courtroom where the investigation would commence. "So soon?" asked Zander.
"No point in waiting, when there are zone of truth spells at hand," Alewyth pointed out. A page directed them to a stall where they'd need to turn in their weapons if they were going to attend the trial. It worked rather like a coatroom, with the attendants writing down the name of the owner and making a list of all weapons turned over, then placing them all into a locker and closing it with a key. The owner then signed his agreement about the contents placed into the locker and was told he could come sign for his items after the trial.
"What about this?" asked Xandro, holding up his figurine of wondrous power carved in the shape of a dire tiger. "It's not technically a weapon."
"You cannot bring that into the courtroom, sir," admonished the clerk behind the counter. Xandro passed it over and it got added to the weapons in his assigned locker. Once all of that had been taken care of, they entered the courtroom through a set of double doors flanked by a pair of paladins of Cal. The back half of the room beyond was filled with two rows of pews, much like in a church, while the front half had the judge's bench on a raised platform, tables and chairs for the court reporter, the prosecutor, and the defendant, each with their own legal representative. The heroes took their places in the pews, Xandro and Robin taking one back corner and Alewyth and Zander taking the other. Thurloe opted to sit up front, to get a better view.
Before long, a quartet of individuals entered the room from a side door. Wakuren and his legal representative, a young human woman, took their seats at one table while the prosecutor and Wakuren's accuser, a stern-faced human woman of middle age, sat at their table. After a moment, the scribe entered and took his seat at the reporter's desk, a large tome open and ready to have the details of this case entered into the court records. Wakuren had been stripped of his armor and all possessions, wearing only the clothes he wore beneath his armor; presumably, he'd be given his items back after he was found not guilty of the ridiculous claim leveled against him.
A paladin entered the room and commanded everyone to rise for the appearance of the High Cleric. Father Peartree entered the courtroom and climbed the short set of steps leading to his bench, positioned in front of a 10-foot-tall statue of the All-Father Cal, leader of the deific pantheon. "Take your seats," he commanded. Father Peartree had aged considerably since the last time Wakuren had seen him, the day that he was to have graduated as a cleric of the Port Duralia Temple of Cleric. Wakuren had been set up by others in his graduating class, falsely made to look like a thieving drunkard that had resulted in the half-orc's last-minute expulsion from the temple. His hair was noticeably whiter, and the lines under his eyes deeper.
"Is the zone of truth ready for use?" Father Peartree asked, and received confirmation that all was in readiness. "If the accused would stand within the circle?" he asked, and Wakuren stood up and moved to comply - there was a circle inscribed on the floor between the prosecution and defendant tables. As soon as he stepped within, the circle began glowing with a magical radiance. "Wakuren, you have been accused of the murder of one of the clerics of this temple, Peter Dublinson. How do you plead?"
"I am not guilty," Wakuren announced without hesitation, causing the woman at the prosecutor's table to grind her teeth in disbelief and frustration. Several clerics in the courtroom had cast discern lies spells, and they nodded at the High Cleric at the accuracy of the half-orc's statement.
"Bring in the item in question," commanded Father Peartree, and a page stepped into the courtroom carrying the shield of Cal. He stood before Wakuren, holding the shield up so he could see the holy emblem of Cal inscribed on its front face.
"This is the shield of Cal, presented to Peter Dublinson on the day of his graduation. Have you seen it before?" Father Peartree asked Wakuren.
"I have."
"You have been seen carrying this shield throughout Port Duralia since your arrival in town. Do you deny this?"
"I do not."
"Naturally, the fact that you were carrying a shield that had been granted to Peter was a cause of some consternation to his parents." The woman behind the prosecution table narrowed her eyes in hatred at Wakuren; he quickly deduced this was likely Peter's mother. "At their request, divination spells were cast that indicated that Peter Dublinson was no longer among the living. Given those facts, the Dublinsons requested you be brought in for the murder of their son. Would you care to describe how you came to be in possession of Peter Dublinson's shield?"
"I would be glad to do so," replied Wakuren, determined to be on his very best behavior in front of the members of the temple who chose to believe him to be little more than a rampaging animal, by simple dint of fact that his unknown father had been a ravaging orc bandit. He explained how he and his adventuring companions had encountered a yellow musk creeper outside an abandoned mine near the town of Moon Creek, and how Peter Dublinson and a companion of his own had apparently been slain by the plant and their corpses reanimated as yellow musk zombies. Wakuren admitted that he and his companions had put the zombies to rest, but emphasized the two had already been dead long before he and his friends had first entered Moon Creek.
Father Peartree turned to his subordinate clerics, who all gave him indications that Wakuren had told the truth during his statements.
"It's a trick!" exploded Wysterna Dublinson. "The damned orc has found a way to lie his way past zone of truth spells, that's all this is! He killed my son!"
"And I imagine it was you who put a price on my head as a result?" Wakuren countered. "I had to fight off a group of bounty hunters immediately before my arrest!"
"I'm not the one on trial here, you mongrel orc!" roared Wysterna Dublinson, as behind her in the front row of pews, her husband Lloyd tried shushing her.
Father Peartree pounded his gavel on the desk before him and called for order. Wysterna's legal advisor calmed her down, and the High Cleric continued. "While it is unlikely that Wakuren has been able to bypass the zone of truth and discern lies spells cast in his direction, I will cast a commune spell, and speak with Cal's emissaries directly. We will have order in this courtroom while I make the necessary preparations." Wysterna, seething, said nothing but fired daggers at Wakuren as he resumed his seat at his legal advisor's side.
After ten minutes of preparation, which involved the lighting of several sticks of incense around his table while several acolytes chanted around him, Father Peartree indicated he was ready to cast the commune spell. "Emissaries of the All-Father Cal, God of the Air and of Healing, we your earthly servants beseech thee to aid us in our investigations by answering these questions." Then, consulting the questions he most wanted answered (of which he'd made a mental list while preparing the spell), he asked, "Did Wakuren slay Peter Dublinson?"
There was silence in the courtroom as everyone leaned forward, hardly daring to breathe while waiting for a response. The response, when it came, was a single word - as was the norm with the commune spell - but it came from an unusual source: the statue of Cal at the back of the courtroom.
"NO."
"Was Peter Dublinson slain in an earlier encounter with a yellow musk creeper in the vicinity of a mine near Moon Creek?"
Again, after a suitable pause, the statue replied with a one-word answer: "YES." The sound of Wysterna's disgusted snort could be heard all across the otherwise silent courtroom.
That was really the only questions needed to be answered to clear Wakuren of the murder of his one-time classmate. Still, since the spell was still active and Father Peartree could ask up to a dozen questions, he asked several more that he wanted answered, for his own peace of mind. "Is it the will of the All-Father Cal that the shield of Cal be allowed to remain in the hands of Wakuren?"
Again a pause, then "YES."
"Does the All-Father Cal recognize Wakuren as both a cleric and a paladin of His order in good standing?" Wakuren in particular was somewhat surprised at this question, for he had long decided Cal considered him such, given that He provided the half-orc the spells for which he prayed each morning.
After a pause, the answer came: "YES."
That was all Wysterna could handle - this was a farce of some type; the High Priest obviously didn't want a scandal on his hands and was faking this charade to bury the crime! Rising from her seat, she began waving her hands around hysterically and voicing arcane words that brought forth a six-limbed monstrosity into the courtroom. With a whiff of brimstone permeating the air, the fiendish girallon roared in rage and leaped at Wakuren, sending a parallel series of claw-slashes across the half-orc's chest. Wakuren's first act was to push his legal advisor out of the way, making sure she was safe from the reach of the Hellish, four-armed monstrosity.
Thurloe was without his bastard sword, so he cast a ray of enfeeblement spell at the fiendish girallon, managing to bypass the fiend's inherent resistance to spell energies and draining the beast of some of its unholy strength. Then he turned and fled, not out of fear but in a desire to go fetch Spellslicer from the room just outside the doors to the courtroom. Pulling open the double doors, he yelled to the attendant, "I need my sword--now!" One of the paladins guarding the doors put a hand to his own sword and looked to give the spellsword a hard time for his outburst, but the other one got a look at the girallon at the front of the courtroom and verified Thurloe's need. "Get him his sword, quick!" the paladin called to the attendant.
"Mine, too!" said Xandro, who had popped out the doors behind Thurloe. He took the opportunity to cast a heroism spell on the spellsword, confident that he'd get to combat before Xandro would.
Wysterna pushed her legal advisor out of the way and cast another spell, this one a disintegrate spell directly at Wakuren, hoping to slay her son's killer one way or the other. The spell hit the half-orc and ate away at his clothing and his skin, but it failed to transform him into a pile of disparate particles as she'd hoped. But it was entirely possible the fiendish girallon would get the job done for her, after all. Pouncing at the half-orc, it slashed away with four sets of claws and bit at him with its wicked mouth of horrid fangs, then dug its claws in and wrenched them away, digging furrows through the flesh of Wakuren's chest. He collapsed to the floor immediately, in far worse shape than he'd been after the three-on-one fight against the bounty hunters he'd fought in the marketplace. If he didn't receive some sort of healing in the next few seconds, it was likely he'd be a murder victim instead of a murder suspect.
Fortunately, Alewyth had come to the realization as soon as she saw Wakuren drop. Ignoring her own safety, she leaped over the railing separating the observers from the active participants in the courtroom and laid her hands upon her friend's spurting chest, casting a heal spell upon him that immediately sealed up the gashes and rents in his wounded flesh.
Zander stood up and cast a spell of his own, but his was more of the retributive type: a chain lightning spell channeled through his ring of mystic lightning - which empowered it all the more - directed at Wysterna Dublinson and arcing over to hit the fiendish girallon. The elf had chosen his targets thusly for several reasons: first, he was aware that if his spell struck the girallon first and was fizzled away to nothingness from the beast's inherent spell resistance, there would be no arcing over to Wysterna; second, he just didn't like the close-minded spellcaster one bit, and was willing to bet he wouldn't get into any trouble for attacking her after she'd already cast spells to attack Wakuren, almost resulting in his death. Both targets writhed in pain at the sudden attack from the back of the room.
Petey leaped from Zander's shoulder and sought some rough justice of his own. His tail-stinger stabbed into the side of Wysterna's neck, but she refused to succumb to the sleep venom now coursing through her veins.
Still somewhat dazed from his close brush with death, Wakuren stood up - taking another set of gashes from a pair of sharp claws as he did so - and backed away from his fiendish attacker, casting a magic circle against evil spell upon himself. Then he bravely stood his ground, knowing full well a summoned creature couldn't even touch him when he was so protected. In the back of the room, he could hear Robin start playing her song of inspirational courage, and allowed the chords to boost his confidence even more.
The paladin in charge of keeping order in the court sprang forward, bringing his longsword to bear against the white-furred intruder in the courtroom. He grinned to see a patch of white fur stained red with blood as a result of his attack. And up on the bench, Father Peartree banged his gavel and called for order, then hurriedly cast a magic circle against evil spell on himself.
"Hurry, hurry!" demanded Thurloe as the clerk unlocked the container holding Spellslicer and the spellsword's other contraband weapons. He ignored everything else, grabbing up his familiar bastard sword and running back into the courtroom, heading down the central aisle between the two rows of pews. "Mine next!" called Xandro, pointing to which locker held his rapier Deathwhisper.
Wysterna faced off against Wakuren and cast a cone of cold spell at the killer of her beloved son Peter, no matter what anyone else had to say on the subject. She fired wildly, not caring who all she hit as long as she got the blasted half-orc. Petey stabbed her again as she did so but the venom was once again ineffective; no doubt her rage if nothing else at least temporarily provided a counter to the sleep poison. But her blast of cold energy hit not only Wakuren but her own summoned fiendish girallon, Father Peartree, Alewyth, and Wakuren's defense advisor - the paladin fighting off the girallon was fortunately blocked from the worst of the spell by the massive body of the foe he was fighting. Wakuren's counsel fell to the floor, dead; Father Peartree slumped over at his bench, possibly dead as well but at the very least knocked into unconsciousness.
With a roar, the fiendish girallon struck at Wakuren again - and frowned in puzzlement as his claws stopped just short of the half-orc's body, shielded by some sort of magical force preventing the summoned creature from touching him. Roaring in even greater fury, he tried attacking from a different angle but got the same results. Alewyth took the opportunity to cast a banishment spell at the six-limbed simian, but even though her spell made it past his natural resistance he still managed to shrug off the effects. It took another chain lightning spell from Zander Quilson to put an end to the combat; his spell dropped Wysterna in her tracks and slew the fiendish girallon as well. The woman's corpse fell to the floor, while the ape's disappeared completely, returning to the Hell from which it had been summoned. No longer with a foe to attack, Petey flew back over to his master, alighting on Zander's shoulder.
Wakuren cast a mass cure light wounds spell, once again augmented by his ring. Father Peartree rose himself back up into consciousness as a result, while wounds healed up on Wakuren and the paladin who'd helped him fight off the girallon. Alewyth, unfortunately, was out of range, and Wakuren's defender's body had taken too much damage from Wysterna's cone of cold spell for Wakuren's to be of any help - she was too far gone.
Looking down at the chaos of his courtroom, Father Peartree pounded again with his gavel and called for order. Lloyd Dublinson, who had scrambled over the railing to see to his dead wife, looked up at the High Cleric with a sad look on his face, but apparently realized his grief-stricken spouse had brought her own death upon herself.
"It is the finding of this court that Wakuren is not guilty in the death of Peter Dublinson. He will retain the shield of Cal and from this point forward, let it be known that despite never having gone through an official graduation ceremony from this temple, Wakuren is hereby a fully-recognized cleric and paladin of Cal, with this Port Duralia Temple of Cal to be considered his home temple. Court stands adjourned; have the pages bring the body of our slain defender to the resurrection room." Then he stood up and departed the courtroom for his adjoining office as his underlings moved to comply with his orders. A paladin approached Lloyd Dublinson, but the man waved him off. "I've got her," he said, scooping his dead wife's body up in his arms.
"I am sorry for the loss of your son, and now for the loss of your wife," Wakuren said to Lloyd Dublinson. Lloyd opened his mouth to say something, then just nodded and turned away.
- - -
This adventure went pretty much as I had intended - I wrote it as closure on Wakuren's status with the Port Duralia Temple of Cal where he'd been raised - but the players still managed to throw me some curves. Krispin's next action was going to be summoning a giant eagle, from which he's snipe down at Wakuren as he flew around the marketplace, but Zander's casting of an Elobar's black tentacles spell put that idea to rest. And I hadn't anticipated Alewyth taking the bounty hunters out so easily with her calm emotions spell. Fortunately, I had the clerics and paladins of Cal as a backup source of potential combat, although I had been pretty sure Logan would have Wakuren surrender peacefully as he did.
When I had Wysterna cast the summoning spell to bring forth a fiendish girallon, Logan scoffed, "What kind of temple doesn't have some sort of magical protection in place to prevent summoned monsters from running amok?" - to which I answered, "The kind that makes for a more exciting adventure!" He agreed with me on that point.
- - -
T-shirt worn: My "Iron Man 2" T-shirt, as it depicts two men in armor (Tony and Rhodey) who should be allies but spent a time as enemies - much like Wakuren and the paladins of Cal.
