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Dreams of Erthe
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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 8160796" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>ADVENTURE 4: INVISIBLE STALKER</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster:</p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Alewyth Putterpye, dwarf priestess of Aerik 1</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Thurloe Pulver, human fighter 1</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Wakuren, half-orc cleric of Cal 1</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Xandro Silverstrings, human bard 1</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Zander Quilson, elf sorcerer 1</p><p></p><p>Game Session Date: 30 December 2020</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>Thurloe stood up and stretched, his back stiff and sore from a night lying upon the cold, hard stone of a cave floor. As he climbed over the wagon, tipped on its side the day before to keep predators away from the cave's entrance, Wakuren woke up and saw him. “Where are you going?” the half-orc asked.</p><p></p><p>“Takin' a leak. Be right back,” Thurloe promised.</p><p></p><p>By the time he returned, the others had all awakened as well and Wakuren, Xandro, and Zander were carefully tipping the wagon back over to its normal orientation. Then Alewyth led the two mules, Mica and Perseverance, out of the cramped cave and into the restraints that allowed them to pull the wagon behind them. The three horses, White, Eddy, and Horse (Thurloe didn't believe in wasting a lot of time on sentimentality when it came to naming beasts of burden), seemed glad to have been freed from the close confines of the cave in which the adventurers had all spent the night and they eagerly went grazing nearby while the others geared up in their armor and loaded up the wagon.</p><p></p><p>It was a seven-hour trip back south to Port Duralia, but the group wasn't in any particular hurry and let the animals trudge along at a comfortable speed. Once they left the mountains and got back on the main road, they saw plenty of traffic; not unusual, for Port Duralia was a major merchant hub and goods brought in from sea were sent elsewhere throughout Armaturia via the numerous Trade Roads. After stopping by the roadside for a mid-day meal (and several stops at the roadside stopping points that sported small shrines and – more importantly – covered latrines) they rolled into their home city just as the sun was about to go down.</p><p></p><p>The group had taken rooms in an inn Thurloe had recommended and they were headed that way when all of a sudden a white-garbed form came crashing into their midst, screaming in fear. This was a young woman of some twenty-odd summers, with dark, brown hair and a white nightgown reaching down to her ankles.</p><p></p><p>“Help!” she cried. “He's going to kill me!”</p><p></p><p>Wakuren slipped down from his perch in the front of the wagon and helped the young woman to her feet. She looked in fear for a moment at his orcish features but then saw the holy symbol of Cal around his neck and painted on the front of his shield and any such fears were instantly dissipated. Instead, she clung to his arm and looked fearfully back at the building she had just fled. “He was there – in my room!” she cried.</p><p></p><p>The others slipped out of their saddles and formed a protective ring around the frightened young lady. “Who's trying to kill you?” asked Alewyth.</p><p></p><p>With a deep breath – somewhat calmer now that she had five seasoned adventurers, two of them even clerics no doubt best suited to dealing with ghosts – <strong>Jolinda</strong> calmed noticeably and began her tale.</p><p></p><p>“It began several weeks ago. A man approached me in the street and started making advances. I told him I wasn't interested but he wouldn't leave me alone. I ran back to the shop - I own a dressmaker's shop - and locked the door. I thought that would be the end of it, but he began following me. I would look out the window of my shop and he would be there, across the street, watching me. I would go to the market and he would follow me - always at a discrete distance but close enough that I was aware of his presence.</p><p></p><p>"Last week, I don't know whether he got tired of waiting or felt that the time was right at last, but he grabbed me as I was returning from the market, put a hand over my mouth, and dragged me into a back alley at knife point. I struggled and tried to pull away. He grappled with me, trying to pull me to the ground. I managed to wriggle away and when I looked back-- the knife was sticking out of his neck! He was dead!</p><p></p><p>“I-- I ran. I didn't know what else to do! I locked myself in my room and stayed there until the next morning. Later that day, I informed the city guard what had happened but by then the body had been taken from the alley.</p><p></p><p>"Several times since then, I could swear I've felt him nearby, watching me, or imagined I heard his voice, whispering to me. I put it down to my imagination, ignored it, and tried to go on with my life.</p><p></p><p>"Then, tonight, after I closed up shop, I went upstairs and got ready for bed. I was brushing my hair, when-- when I looked up in the mirror and saw him appear - THERE IN MY ROOM! He said, 'I have come for you, Jolinda,' in a ghastly whisper and he held out his arms as if to grab me! I ran - right into you! Please, please, you must save me from him! You must!"</p><p></p><p>“So you killed this guy, and now he wants to kill you right back,” Thurloe observed. Alewyth gave him a stern look of displeasure; in her mind, Jolinda's accidental slaying of the man who had attacked her was completely justified.</p><p></p><p>“Where were you when the ghost appeared?” asked the dwarven priestess.</p><p></p><p>“Upstairs, in my room.”</p><p></p><p>“Can you show us?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, if you'll be there with me,” replied Jolinda. She led them back the way she'd come, through the front door of her shop - “JOLINDA – DRESSMAKER” was painted on the wood of the door, to the right of a display window with four mannequins displaying the quality of her work – and gave them all a quick tour of the place, half expecting to see the ghost pop out at any moment. The lower level was the shop itself, with a payment counter up front, a work table in the middle of the room, a smaller room to the northwest where finished articles of clothing (some Jolinda had made herself, others that had been brought in for repair) hung on racks, a pair of fitting rooms, a fabric storage closet, and a small room under the stairs where she kept some of her supplies. An unlit fireplace sat in the back of the room, beside a door that led out to an alleyway behind the building. Up the stairs there was a small kitchen and pantry, Jolinda's bedroom, a bathroom, and a door to a rooftop garden that took up the western half of the building's upper level. There were two windows on the upper level, one in the bedroom and one in the kitchen, but while neither had any glass they both had strong shutters and were barred from the inside. Thurloe opened each in turn and looked outside; there was no ledge on which to stand so anyone breaking in through the window would have to do so while hanging precariously from the rooftop.</p><p></p><p>“A ghost wouldn't need to come in through the window,” pointed out Alewyth. “It could just fly through the walls.”</p><p></p><p>“Is that what it did?” Thurloe asked the dressmaker. “Fly through the wall?”</p><p></p><p>“No,” admitted Jolinda. “I was here, at my desk, brushing my hair” - and here she indicated a mirror atop a small desk along the eastern wall of her bedroom - “when he just sort of...appeared behind me, out of thin air!”</p><p></p><p>Zander had cast a <em>detect magic</em> spell and was giving the entire building interior a thorough once-over with his enhanced eyesight, while Alewyth had done the same thing with a <em>detect undead</em> spell. Neither one saw anything out of the ordinary.</p><p></p><p>But Xandro had a bit more luck in his investigations. On a whim, he stepped outside into the back alley and examined the lock on the back door. Sure enough, there were recent scratch marks on the lock – it looked as if it had been picked by someone trained in the arts of thievery.</p><p></p><p>“So what does this mean?” asked Jolinda. “It's not a ghost trying to kill me? But the way he just appeared--”</p><p></p><p>“I think your stalker's still alive,” Thurloe cut her off, then followed up with a question of his own. “Are you sure you killed him in the alley?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, his knife was sticking out of his neck, and there was blood all around....”</p><p></p><p>“So he could have survived. And there was no body there the next day.”</p><p></p><p>“No, but I just assumed it had been taken away by the city guardsmen....”</p><p></p><p>“A knife wound like that, it could have done some damage to his vocal cords,” pointed out Xandro. “You said he was speaking in a ghostly whisper – maybe that's as loud as he can talk now.”</p><p></p><p>“But he appeared out of thin air,” argued Jolinda.</p><p></p><p>“That's easily explained by invisibility,” countered Thurloe. “Maybe a potion, maybe a spell, maybe even a ring or something. But no, I don't think we're dealing with a ghost here. A ghost wouldn't need to pick a lock.”</p><p></p><p>“Then he isn't after me for killing him...” began Jolinda.</p><p></p><p>“No, it sounds like he's still coming after you for the same reason as before,” sighed Alewyth, shaking her head.</p><p></p><p>“Let's make sure the place is secure,” said Thurloe, leading Wakuren and Xandro back downstairs to check the doors. The door leading out to the rooftop garden suddenly swung open, as if by a strong gust of wind, and a ghostly voice no louder than a whisper came from outside. “I will have you before the night is out, Jolinda. Any that get in my way, will die!"</p><p></p><p>Zander sped forward to the doorway, activating another <em>detect magic</em> spell, hoping to catch the outline of somebody using invisibility magic. But he saw nothing; if the “ghost” had been there on the rooftop he wasn't there any longer. The elf walked over to the metal railing ringing the rooftop area and looked down at the bricks of the building, recognizing that a trained thief would likely have little difficulty in scaling them.</p><p></p><p>And sure enough, while Zander looked over the western wall directly across from the doorway into Jolinda's living quarters, <strong>Ialgo</strong> was climbing down the northern wall, lowering himself down to the back alley. So, the little wench had gotten herself some protection, had she? Well, two could play at that game! Ialgo would go round up a few of his most trusted lads; they'd do whatever he said, especially it if meant they'd get to have a go at Jolinda after he was done with her! With an invisible smirk on his invisible face, he headed down the alleyway to go gather his reinforcements.</p><p></p><p>Jolinda's guardians, in the meantime, were doing what they could to reinforce the security of the building. The two doors on the ground level were both closed and locked and they started up a nice, blazing fire in the fireplaces on both levels, for they shared a chimney and while Xandro judged a man could fit down the chimney and enter the dwelling by that method, it wouldn't be a very good idea to try it with smoke rising up the narrow chimney and a fire waiting for him at both floors. Wakuren had a small pile of caltrops, which he scattered on the floor in front of the back door, given that had apparently been the prior means of entry. Upstairs, Alewyth and Zander had stacked a pile of furniture in front of the door to the rooftop, so even if the “ghost” managed to open the door he couldn't just rush right in.</p><p></p><p>And then they waited. At Zander's insistence, Jolinda stepped into the pantry and closed the door; the elf stationed himself at the top of the stairs where he could keep an eye on the pantry door. The dressmaker's cat, <strong>Mr. Frisky</strong>, was placed in the bathroom where he was out of the way, but his indignant howls let everyone know what <em>he</em> thought about this particular plan. Alewyth stood in the kitchen, a final guard against anyone trying to get to Jolinda's hiding spot in the pantry, the dwarf's warhammer out and ready for business. From her position she had a good view of the door to the rooftop. Thurloe stood at the bottom of the stairs, a tanglefoot bag in hand ready to throw and his bastard sword strapped to his back where he could reach it at once. Xandro stood, rapier in hand and lute hanging on his back, facing the back door, while Wakuren was over by the front door – more specifically, he stood by the front counter.</p><p></p><p>Many minutes later, all at once as if by some pre-arranged signal, the heroes heard slight scratching sounds at the various doors; the intruders were making a multi-pronged attack, it seemed. Zander quickly cast a <em>mage armor</em> spell upon himself, now that combat seemed imminent.</p><p></p><p>The rooftop door swung open and the dark-clad rogue standing there swore quietly to himself at the pile of furniture blocking his way. At the same time, the furtive scratching at the front door continued; apparently the thief trying to pick the front lock was having a bit of difficulty. But not so the thief in the back, who opened the door and stepped boldly inside – only to trod upon a set of caltrops that pierced the soles of his shoes and caused him to yelp aloud in pain. His leaping around caused Thurloe's thrown tanglefoot bag to go wide; with a snarl the fighter pulled the bastard sword from his back as another human male stepped in behind the hapless rogue who had stumbled into the caltrop trap; forewarned, the lowlife streetfighter in studded leather armor stepped to the side, avoiding the hazards as he brought his longsword out to threaten the dress-shop defenders, heading towards Xandro. Wakuren stepped up beside Thurloe and cast a <em>shield of faith</em> spell upon his friend, certain it would come in handy in the upcoming fight. The half-orc edged past the fighter, deciding he'd best check upstairs to see if the intruders were coming from that direction as well. But by then the rogue at the front door had mastered the lock and barged into the room, the glint of a dagger shining by the light of the fireplace across the room. He raced along the stairwell to slash his blade at Thurloe, who handily dodged.</p><p></p><p>As the rogue upstairs started climbing over the side of Jolinda's propped-up bed, Alewyth stepped forward and swung at the intruder with the full weight of her dwarven warhammer. The head of the weapon collided with the head of the dark-clad rogue, crushing in the side of his skull with one blow. He collapsed in a heap and Alewyth only noted too late the sounds of someone else – someone unseen – scrambling over the furniture they'd placed as an obstacle before the back door.</p><p></p><p>A silent prayer on her lips, Alewyth swung her weapon at the spot from where she thought the sounds were coming; Aerik, God of Protection must have hear her unvoiced prayers for her warhammer struck true a second time, hitting the invisible rogue attempting to fight his way to Jolinda, wherever she might be.</p><p></p><p>Bastard sword out, Thurloe stabbed it into the caltrop victim, piercing the man's clothing and slicing a wide gash along the side of his ribs, but the man was still in the fight, although not doing much but frantically trying to pull the spikes from the bottoms of his feet. Xandro ran him through with his rapier, killing him, but then took a hit himself from the man's fighter compatriot, whose longsword blade slashed along the bard's left arm, drawing blood.</p><p></p><p>Zander saw a humanoid outline in his <em>detect magic</em>-enhanced vision and cast a <em>magic missile</em> spell at the invisible assassin; Ialgo was surprised at the magical assault when he thought he was undetectable. Hearing the sounds of combat from above, Wakuren raced up the stairs, looking about for foes but seeing only the dead form of the rogue Alewyth had slain. But then Ialgo popped into full visibility as he sent his dagger stabbing into Alewyth's side. The priestess winced in pain and dropped a hand over the wound, where blood was pooling between her fingers. But rather than allow herself the relative luxury of a healing spell, the dwarven priestess of Aerik counterattacked, swinging her warhammer at her now-visible foe, clocking him a good one that nearly sent him sprawling. Even knowing he was fully flesh and blood, the rogue had an unearthly look about him, his flesh very pale and his hair practically white despite his young age; it was no wonder Jolinda had so easily believed he was a ghost!</p><p></p><p>The intruders downstairs were having trouble hitting their respective targets, for the fighter was constantly wary (to the point of distraction) of not stepping on any of the nearby caltrops that had helped do in his friend, while Thurloe was just faster than the rogue had expected and his dagger continued to just miss. With a practiced swing of his heavy blade, Thurloe skewered the rogue through the midsection, then pulled out his blade and watched as the man dropped lifelessly to the floor. Xandro managed to hit his own foe with the tip of his rapier, drawing a line of blood across the fighter's cheek, but he hadn't yet managed to finish him off. With a snarl of rage, the fighter swung his blade at the bard, but Xandro nimbly leapt aside in time. And that allowed Thurloe to run the fighter in through his back, the blade erupting from the man's stomach in a spray of blood that drenched the front of Xandro's clothes.</p><p></p><p>Seeing how weak Ialgo looked after the dwarf's attack, Zander opted to cast an <em>acid splash</em> spell at Jolinda's tormentor; his spell struck true but failed to drop the black-clad rogue, although he did look like he was barely managing to stand on his own at this point. Staggering away from his foes, Ialgo reactivated the power of the magic ring he wore and once again disappeared from view, hoping the cover of invisibility would allow him to escape this deathtrap. No stupid dame, not even one as good-looking as the dressmaker, was worth his life!</p><p></p><p>Wakuren surged forward, grabbing at where Ialgo had been when he turned invisible. The half-orc's grasping hands grabbed nothing but air. He could hear the panicked rogue climbing over the furniture again, desperately trying to gain the freedom of the rooftop garden.</p><p></p><p>Alewyth did some mental calculations in her head and cast her <em>ray of frost</em> – the special ability she'd apparently been born with, and which set her apart from her fellow dwarves, even those from the temple – at a likely area where Ialgo might be. But no such luck; Ialgo had by that time staggered off to the side from the spot where the dwarf had aimed.</p><p></p><p>Wiping the worst of the blood away as he raced over to the stairs – careful not to step on any errant caltrops along the way - Xandro headed up to the second floor, Thurloe following in his wake. There they saw Alewyth and Zander swinging wildly at the air in the doorway, Wakuren right behind them. They rushed to follow the rest of the team outside onto the rooftop, where a lucky swing by Thurloe's bastard sword cut down the invisible rogue before he could stumble over the railing and make his escape. Popping back into visibility as he died, Ialgo's body was saved an ignominious drop to the alleyway below by a quick snatch of the rogue's collar by Thurloe. Then the fighter dragged Ialgo's lifeless body down onto the rooftop floor.</p><p></p><p>Alewyth turned back immediately and returned to the building interior, to tell Jolinda the danger was over and let her out of the pantry. Mr. Frisky's frantic yowls from behind the bathroom door demanded he be extended the same courtesy, but the group decided to let Jolinda field that one.</p><p></p><p>In the meantime, Thurloe bent down at Ialgo's side and pulled an expensive-looking ring from the dead man's finger. “Yep,” the fighter announced. “Figured it would be something like that.” He tossed the ring over to Wakuren. “You might want to claim this,” he advised. “Might not be a bad idea for us to have an invisible source of healing on the team,” he suggested.</p><p></p><p>“Well, there's also Alewyth...” began the half-orc, not wanting to claim what he recognized was a very valuable bit of magical treasure for his own without allowing the others on the team to stake their own claim.</p><p></p><p>“Don't take this the wrong way,” replied the young fighter, “but she's much more of a bad-ass than you are. I think we'll let you stick to the healing and let her go crazy with that hammer of hers.”</p><p></p><p>Even Wakuren couldn't argue against that logic.</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>Jolinda wasn't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but she insisted on paying the group 50 gp for their assistance and offered to do any mending they might ever need for free.</p><p></p><p>Incidentally, we're planning on getting in as much gaming as possible between now and 11 Jan 21 (when Joey returns to school and we have to start worrying about COVID contamination again). So I'm cranking out the “skeleton” write-ups the day of the gaming session but won't necessarily get around to writing up the Story Hour segments until later on; after all, we'll have another COVID break from 11 Jan 21 until two weeks after both Harry and Joey get out of school in May or June, so there will be plenty of time to write up the goings-on of the adventures we go through now (in both this campaign and my son Logan's “Raiders of the Overreach” campaign) during the enforced break.</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>T-shirt worn: I had originally planned to wear one of my “Walking Dead” T-shirts for this adventure (and the next one, as it would have been appropriate for both), but in the ended decided to wear a Duck Dynasty shirt with the image of Phil Robinson and his favorite saying, “Happy Happy Happy.” I thought it was a particularly good representation of the feeling we all had that we were once again gaming together, after an absence of gaming since August.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 8160796, member: 508"] [B]ADVENTURE 4: INVISIBLE STALKER[/B] PC Roster: [INDENT]Alewyth Putterpye, dwarf priestess of Aerik 1[/INDENT] [INDENT] Thurloe Pulver, human fighter 1[/INDENT] [INDENT] Wakuren, half-orc cleric of Cal 1[/INDENT] [INDENT] Xandro Silverstrings, human bard 1[/INDENT] [INDENT] Zander Quilson, elf sorcerer 1[/INDENT] Game Session Date: 30 December 2020 - - - Thurloe stood up and stretched, his back stiff and sore from a night lying upon the cold, hard stone of a cave floor. As he climbed over the wagon, tipped on its side the day before to keep predators away from the cave's entrance, Wakuren woke up and saw him. “Where are you going?” the half-orc asked. “Takin' a leak. Be right back,” Thurloe promised. By the time he returned, the others had all awakened as well and Wakuren, Xandro, and Zander were carefully tipping the wagon back over to its normal orientation. Then Alewyth led the two mules, Mica and Perseverance, out of the cramped cave and into the restraints that allowed them to pull the wagon behind them. The three horses, White, Eddy, and Horse (Thurloe didn't believe in wasting a lot of time on sentimentality when it came to naming beasts of burden), seemed glad to have been freed from the close confines of the cave in which the adventurers had all spent the night and they eagerly went grazing nearby while the others geared up in their armor and loaded up the wagon. It was a seven-hour trip back south to Port Duralia, but the group wasn't in any particular hurry and let the animals trudge along at a comfortable speed. Once they left the mountains and got back on the main road, they saw plenty of traffic; not unusual, for Port Duralia was a major merchant hub and goods brought in from sea were sent elsewhere throughout Armaturia via the numerous Trade Roads. After stopping by the roadside for a mid-day meal (and several stops at the roadside stopping points that sported small shrines and – more importantly – covered latrines) they rolled into their home city just as the sun was about to go down. The group had taken rooms in an inn Thurloe had recommended and they were headed that way when all of a sudden a white-garbed form came crashing into their midst, screaming in fear. This was a young woman of some twenty-odd summers, with dark, brown hair and a white nightgown reaching down to her ankles. “Help!” she cried. “He's going to kill me!” Wakuren slipped down from his perch in the front of the wagon and helped the young woman to her feet. She looked in fear for a moment at his orcish features but then saw the holy symbol of Cal around his neck and painted on the front of his shield and any such fears were instantly dissipated. Instead, she clung to his arm and looked fearfully back at the building she had just fled. “He was there – in my room!” she cried. The others slipped out of their saddles and formed a protective ring around the frightened young lady. “Who's trying to kill you?” asked Alewyth. With a deep breath – somewhat calmer now that she had five seasoned adventurers, two of them even clerics no doubt best suited to dealing with ghosts – [B]Jolinda[/B] calmed noticeably and began her tale. “It began several weeks ago. A man approached me in the street and started making advances. I told him I wasn't interested but he wouldn't leave me alone. I ran back to the shop - I own a dressmaker's shop - and locked the door. I thought that would be the end of it, but he began following me. I would look out the window of my shop and he would be there, across the street, watching me. I would go to the market and he would follow me - always at a discrete distance but close enough that I was aware of his presence. "Last week, I don't know whether he got tired of waiting or felt that the time was right at last, but he grabbed me as I was returning from the market, put a hand over my mouth, and dragged me into a back alley at knife point. I struggled and tried to pull away. He grappled with me, trying to pull me to the ground. I managed to wriggle away and when I looked back-- the knife was sticking out of his neck! He was dead! “I-- I ran. I didn't know what else to do! I locked myself in my room and stayed there until the next morning. Later that day, I informed the city guard what had happened but by then the body had been taken from the alley. "Several times since then, I could swear I've felt him nearby, watching me, or imagined I heard his voice, whispering to me. I put it down to my imagination, ignored it, and tried to go on with my life. "Then, tonight, after I closed up shop, I went upstairs and got ready for bed. I was brushing my hair, when-- when I looked up in the mirror and saw him appear - THERE IN MY ROOM! He said, 'I have come for you, Jolinda,' in a ghastly whisper and he held out his arms as if to grab me! I ran - right into you! Please, please, you must save me from him! You must!" “So you killed this guy, and now he wants to kill you right back,” Thurloe observed. Alewyth gave him a stern look of displeasure; in her mind, Jolinda's accidental slaying of the man who had attacked her was completely justified. “Where were you when the ghost appeared?” asked the dwarven priestess. “Upstairs, in my room.” “Can you show us?” “Yes, if you'll be there with me,” replied Jolinda. She led them back the way she'd come, through the front door of her shop - “JOLINDA – DRESSMAKER” was painted on the wood of the door, to the right of a display window with four mannequins displaying the quality of her work – and gave them all a quick tour of the place, half expecting to see the ghost pop out at any moment. The lower level was the shop itself, with a payment counter up front, a work table in the middle of the room, a smaller room to the northwest where finished articles of clothing (some Jolinda had made herself, others that had been brought in for repair) hung on racks, a pair of fitting rooms, a fabric storage closet, and a small room under the stairs where she kept some of her supplies. An unlit fireplace sat in the back of the room, beside a door that led out to an alleyway behind the building. Up the stairs there was a small kitchen and pantry, Jolinda's bedroom, a bathroom, and a door to a rooftop garden that took up the western half of the building's upper level. There were two windows on the upper level, one in the bedroom and one in the kitchen, but while neither had any glass they both had strong shutters and were barred from the inside. Thurloe opened each in turn and looked outside; there was no ledge on which to stand so anyone breaking in through the window would have to do so while hanging precariously from the rooftop. “A ghost wouldn't need to come in through the window,” pointed out Alewyth. “It could just fly through the walls.” “Is that what it did?” Thurloe asked the dressmaker. “Fly through the wall?” “No,” admitted Jolinda. “I was here, at my desk, brushing my hair” - and here she indicated a mirror atop a small desk along the eastern wall of her bedroom - “when he just sort of...appeared behind me, out of thin air!” Zander had cast a [I]detect magic[/I] spell and was giving the entire building interior a thorough once-over with his enhanced eyesight, while Alewyth had done the same thing with a [I]detect undead[/I] spell. Neither one saw anything out of the ordinary. But Xandro had a bit more luck in his investigations. On a whim, he stepped outside into the back alley and examined the lock on the back door. Sure enough, there were recent scratch marks on the lock – it looked as if it had been picked by someone trained in the arts of thievery. “So what does this mean?” asked Jolinda. “It's not a ghost trying to kill me? But the way he just appeared--” “I think your stalker's still alive,” Thurloe cut her off, then followed up with a question of his own. “Are you sure you killed him in the alley?” “Well, his knife was sticking out of his neck, and there was blood all around....” “So he could have survived. And there was no body there the next day.” “No, but I just assumed it had been taken away by the city guardsmen....” “A knife wound like that, it could have done some damage to his vocal cords,” pointed out Xandro. “You said he was speaking in a ghostly whisper – maybe that's as loud as he can talk now.” “But he appeared out of thin air,” argued Jolinda. “That's easily explained by invisibility,” countered Thurloe. “Maybe a potion, maybe a spell, maybe even a ring or something. But no, I don't think we're dealing with a ghost here. A ghost wouldn't need to pick a lock.” “Then he isn't after me for killing him...” began Jolinda. “No, it sounds like he's still coming after you for the same reason as before,” sighed Alewyth, shaking her head. “Let's make sure the place is secure,” said Thurloe, leading Wakuren and Xandro back downstairs to check the doors. The door leading out to the rooftop garden suddenly swung open, as if by a strong gust of wind, and a ghostly voice no louder than a whisper came from outside. “I will have you before the night is out, Jolinda. Any that get in my way, will die!" Zander sped forward to the doorway, activating another [I]detect magic[/I] spell, hoping to catch the outline of somebody using invisibility magic. But he saw nothing; if the “ghost” had been there on the rooftop he wasn't there any longer. The elf walked over to the metal railing ringing the rooftop area and looked down at the bricks of the building, recognizing that a trained thief would likely have little difficulty in scaling them. And sure enough, while Zander looked over the western wall directly across from the doorway into Jolinda's living quarters, [B]Ialgo[/B] was climbing down the northern wall, lowering himself down to the back alley. So, the little wench had gotten herself some protection, had she? Well, two could play at that game! Ialgo would go round up a few of his most trusted lads; they'd do whatever he said, especially it if meant they'd get to have a go at Jolinda after he was done with her! With an invisible smirk on his invisible face, he headed down the alleyway to go gather his reinforcements. Jolinda's guardians, in the meantime, were doing what they could to reinforce the security of the building. The two doors on the ground level were both closed and locked and they started up a nice, blazing fire in the fireplaces on both levels, for they shared a chimney and while Xandro judged a man could fit down the chimney and enter the dwelling by that method, it wouldn't be a very good idea to try it with smoke rising up the narrow chimney and a fire waiting for him at both floors. Wakuren had a small pile of caltrops, which he scattered on the floor in front of the back door, given that had apparently been the prior means of entry. Upstairs, Alewyth and Zander had stacked a pile of furniture in front of the door to the rooftop, so even if the “ghost” managed to open the door he couldn't just rush right in. And then they waited. At Zander's insistence, Jolinda stepped into the pantry and closed the door; the elf stationed himself at the top of the stairs where he could keep an eye on the pantry door. The dressmaker's cat, [B]Mr. Frisky[/B], was placed in the bathroom where he was out of the way, but his indignant howls let everyone know what [I]he[/I] thought about this particular plan. Alewyth stood in the kitchen, a final guard against anyone trying to get to Jolinda's hiding spot in the pantry, the dwarf's warhammer out and ready for business. From her position she had a good view of the door to the rooftop. Thurloe stood at the bottom of the stairs, a tanglefoot bag in hand ready to throw and his bastard sword strapped to his back where he could reach it at once. Xandro stood, rapier in hand and lute hanging on his back, facing the back door, while Wakuren was over by the front door – more specifically, he stood by the front counter. Many minutes later, all at once as if by some pre-arranged signal, the heroes heard slight scratching sounds at the various doors; the intruders were making a multi-pronged attack, it seemed. Zander quickly cast a [I]mage armor[/I] spell upon himself, now that combat seemed imminent. The rooftop door swung open and the dark-clad rogue standing there swore quietly to himself at the pile of furniture blocking his way. At the same time, the furtive scratching at the front door continued; apparently the thief trying to pick the front lock was having a bit of difficulty. But not so the thief in the back, who opened the door and stepped boldly inside – only to trod upon a set of caltrops that pierced the soles of his shoes and caused him to yelp aloud in pain. His leaping around caused Thurloe's thrown tanglefoot bag to go wide; with a snarl the fighter pulled the bastard sword from his back as another human male stepped in behind the hapless rogue who had stumbled into the caltrop trap; forewarned, the lowlife streetfighter in studded leather armor stepped to the side, avoiding the hazards as he brought his longsword out to threaten the dress-shop defenders, heading towards Xandro. Wakuren stepped up beside Thurloe and cast a [I]shield of faith[/I] spell upon his friend, certain it would come in handy in the upcoming fight. The half-orc edged past the fighter, deciding he'd best check upstairs to see if the intruders were coming from that direction as well. But by then the rogue at the front door had mastered the lock and barged into the room, the glint of a dagger shining by the light of the fireplace across the room. He raced along the stairwell to slash his blade at Thurloe, who handily dodged. As the rogue upstairs started climbing over the side of Jolinda's propped-up bed, Alewyth stepped forward and swung at the intruder with the full weight of her dwarven warhammer. The head of the weapon collided with the head of the dark-clad rogue, crushing in the side of his skull with one blow. He collapsed in a heap and Alewyth only noted too late the sounds of someone else – someone unseen – scrambling over the furniture they'd placed as an obstacle before the back door. A silent prayer on her lips, Alewyth swung her weapon at the spot from where she thought the sounds were coming; Aerik, God of Protection must have hear her unvoiced prayers for her warhammer struck true a second time, hitting the invisible rogue attempting to fight his way to Jolinda, wherever she might be. Bastard sword out, Thurloe stabbed it into the caltrop victim, piercing the man's clothing and slicing a wide gash along the side of his ribs, but the man was still in the fight, although not doing much but frantically trying to pull the spikes from the bottoms of his feet. Xandro ran him through with his rapier, killing him, but then took a hit himself from the man's fighter compatriot, whose longsword blade slashed along the bard's left arm, drawing blood. Zander saw a humanoid outline in his [I]detect magic[/I]-enhanced vision and cast a [I]magic missile[/I] spell at the invisible assassin; Ialgo was surprised at the magical assault when he thought he was undetectable. Hearing the sounds of combat from above, Wakuren raced up the stairs, looking about for foes but seeing only the dead form of the rogue Alewyth had slain. But then Ialgo popped into full visibility as he sent his dagger stabbing into Alewyth's side. The priestess winced in pain and dropped a hand over the wound, where blood was pooling between her fingers. But rather than allow herself the relative luxury of a healing spell, the dwarven priestess of Aerik counterattacked, swinging her warhammer at her now-visible foe, clocking him a good one that nearly sent him sprawling. Even knowing he was fully flesh and blood, the rogue had an unearthly look about him, his flesh very pale and his hair practically white despite his young age; it was no wonder Jolinda had so easily believed he was a ghost! The intruders downstairs were having trouble hitting their respective targets, for the fighter was constantly wary (to the point of distraction) of not stepping on any of the nearby caltrops that had helped do in his friend, while Thurloe was just faster than the rogue had expected and his dagger continued to just miss. With a practiced swing of his heavy blade, Thurloe skewered the rogue through the midsection, then pulled out his blade and watched as the man dropped lifelessly to the floor. Xandro managed to hit his own foe with the tip of his rapier, drawing a line of blood across the fighter's cheek, but he hadn't yet managed to finish him off. With a snarl of rage, the fighter swung his blade at the bard, but Xandro nimbly leapt aside in time. And that allowed Thurloe to run the fighter in through his back, the blade erupting from the man's stomach in a spray of blood that drenched the front of Xandro's clothes. Seeing how weak Ialgo looked after the dwarf's attack, Zander opted to cast an [I]acid splash[/I] spell at Jolinda's tormentor; his spell struck true but failed to drop the black-clad rogue, although he did look like he was barely managing to stand on his own at this point. Staggering away from his foes, Ialgo reactivated the power of the magic ring he wore and once again disappeared from view, hoping the cover of invisibility would allow him to escape this deathtrap. No stupid dame, not even one as good-looking as the dressmaker, was worth his life! Wakuren surged forward, grabbing at where Ialgo had been when he turned invisible. The half-orc's grasping hands grabbed nothing but air. He could hear the panicked rogue climbing over the furniture again, desperately trying to gain the freedom of the rooftop garden. Alewyth did some mental calculations in her head and cast her [I]ray of frost[/I] – the special ability she'd apparently been born with, and which set her apart from her fellow dwarves, even those from the temple – at a likely area where Ialgo might be. But no such luck; Ialgo had by that time staggered off to the side from the spot where the dwarf had aimed. Wiping the worst of the blood away as he raced over to the stairs – careful not to step on any errant caltrops along the way - Xandro headed up to the second floor, Thurloe following in his wake. There they saw Alewyth and Zander swinging wildly at the air in the doorway, Wakuren right behind them. They rushed to follow the rest of the team outside onto the rooftop, where a lucky swing by Thurloe's bastard sword cut down the invisible rogue before he could stumble over the railing and make his escape. Popping back into visibility as he died, Ialgo's body was saved an ignominious drop to the alleyway below by a quick snatch of the rogue's collar by Thurloe. Then the fighter dragged Ialgo's lifeless body down onto the rooftop floor. Alewyth turned back immediately and returned to the building interior, to tell Jolinda the danger was over and let her out of the pantry. Mr. Frisky's frantic yowls from behind the bathroom door demanded he be extended the same courtesy, but the group decided to let Jolinda field that one. In the meantime, Thurloe bent down at Ialgo's side and pulled an expensive-looking ring from the dead man's finger. “Yep,” the fighter announced. “Figured it would be something like that.” He tossed the ring over to Wakuren. “You might want to claim this,” he advised. “Might not be a bad idea for us to have an invisible source of healing on the team,” he suggested. “Well, there's also Alewyth...” began the half-orc, not wanting to claim what he recognized was a very valuable bit of magical treasure for his own without allowing the others on the team to stake their own claim. “Don't take this the wrong way,” replied the young fighter, “but she's much more of a bad-ass than you are. I think we'll let you stick to the healing and let her go crazy with that hammer of hers.” Even Wakuren couldn't argue against that logic. - - - Jolinda wasn't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but she insisted on paying the group 50 gp for their assistance and offered to do any mending they might ever need for free. Incidentally, we're planning on getting in as much gaming as possible between now and 11 Jan 21 (when Joey returns to school and we have to start worrying about COVID contamination again). So I'm cranking out the “skeleton” write-ups the day of the gaming session but won't necessarily get around to writing up the Story Hour segments until later on; after all, we'll have another COVID break from 11 Jan 21 until two weeks after both Harry and Joey get out of school in May or June, so there will be plenty of time to write up the goings-on of the adventures we go through now (in both this campaign and my son Logan's “Raiders of the Overreach” campaign) during the enforced break. - - - T-shirt worn: I had originally planned to wear one of my “Walking Dead” T-shirts for this adventure (and the next one, as it would have been appropriate for both), but in the ended decided to wear a Duck Dynasty shirt with the image of Phil Robinson and his favorite saying, “Happy Happy Happy.” I thought it was a particularly good representation of the feeling we all had that we were once again gaming together, after an absence of gaming since August. [/QUOTE]
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