Ravenloft-Beyond the Mists

[SolidSnake]

Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil - Prelude 2 (or “We are all mortal. It is more a question of how, rather then when.”)

"Orcs two of them."

-twang-

-twang-

[Scream of pain]

[gurgle]

"MOVE!"

Aramek: "Son of a goat! Were sittin duks out ere. Son of a bluddie goat! Aargh!"

Stella: "We need to get to the doors."

Aramek: "Aye, ya be right with that las."

Faust: "As soon as we break from this wall they can fire down on us."

Strider: "Falcon, run to that nook over there while I provide missile cover. As soon as you get there, provide missile cover for the rest of us. Once you all get to the door, I will draw they’re fire to give you time to get inside"

Aramek: "Ai dont mean ta burst yer bubble lad, but they’re firing out of slots 2 inches wide. Ya-“

Strider: "Trust me. Falcon, NOW!"

Elhonna. Guide my hand; let my aim be true this day. (As an aside, the orcs on the inside of the stronghold had 9/10ths cover. Strider only missed once. Can I get a BOO YAH?!)

Aramek: "Strider, les go. Come on. Yer as slow as pregnant mule. COME ON!"

Strider managed to only get struck once and a graze at that. Upon gaining the entrance, Falcon immediately set to lighting a torch so he and Strider could see. Aramek was busy closing the door with Stella. Strider and Faust were reloading. As the torch ignited with a flare, the party had only a moment to react to the rain of arrows fired from the opposite end of the precarious rope-bridge (visible only to Stella, Faust and Aramek before). The torchlight was only bright enough to reveal the opposite edge of the apparent bottomless chasm. With everyone’s eyes readjusting, no one could see who it was on the opposite edge. Aramek charged the bridge while the rest of the party set to returning fire. Guessing from the angle of the incoming arrows and seeing the outline of stalagmites on the other side, Strider took aim.

-gurgle-

Elhonna truly had heard Strider’s prayer.

The rope bridge was a death trap. Aramek fell off less than 10 feet across and by the luck of Moradin was able to clasp a hand around part of the bridge. Strider dove to catch him while the faceless enemies, Stella and Faust were exchanging missile fire. Falcon noticed a door to the partys left and wisely guarded it. Strider managed to prevent both himself and Aramek from falling. However, Aramek was intent on getting to the other side and started monkey bar climbing his way to the other side of the bridge. Strider took up missile fire again. By the time Aramek was two thirds across, an orc broke from cover and started hacking away at the rope bridge with his axe. He managed to cut one side before Strider could pelt him with arrows. Falcon hearing movement around the corner (beyond the door to the partys left) surprised the oncoming orcs and managed to take the both of them out. When he returned Aramek had gained the other side. Falcon seeing the other side was secure carefully made his way onto the bridge after tying a rope around his waste and securing it to the bridge. Tiptoeing to the center of the bridge, the monk had a moment of clarity before he saw his end. For that one instant, the universe was clear. The bridge tipped, having had one of its ends cut by the orc, and Falcon plummeted to his death. His last thoughts were memories of him denying the usefulness of rope use to his sensei.
Falcons descent was met with silent shock. Stella numbly took out her rope and very carefully secured one end to the door while. Strider did the same with his own rope. Strider was the next to brave the crossing. With the added structural support of the two additional ropes, Strider made it across.

Faust was not so lucky. The bard had practiced tightrope walking before. However, fate frowned on Faust this day. Stellas numbness abided overcome by rage. She did not stop screaming until Faust was no longer visible.

Aramek: "Go back las. Strider and Ai will take it frum ere."

Stella: "Im coming across. So help me Pelor, I am coming across!"

Aramek: "At least take off yer armor."

The gear was sent over first. With Stellas first precarious step, every one of Strider’s muscles tensed. Each inch was witnessed by Aramek’s release of a bit more of the breath he was holding onto. When Stella had both feet planted on the opposite side, Aramek literally hugged her.

Within a few seconds, the weakened party was underway. Throwing open the doorway on the other side of the bridge revealed a series of tunnels dug by the dwarves in an age long ago. Strider instinctively moved to the lead, but was quickly reprimanded by Aramek for being a complete human fool. Strider would have contested the point had he actually had the ability to see in darkness. Aramek’s excursion didn’t last long. Within a few yards, he came across what looked like a makeshift prison. Inside were two human figures. Aramek reported this to the group before he had them come near the wooden cage. Both men instantly sat up as they saw the party approach.

"Wat ar ye in fer?"

One of the humans pressed his face to the bars and gave Strider a long, hard look.

"I am here because I am human," the man spoke in chilling tones.

"Dusnt seem rite if ye ask me. Strider?"

"No it doesn’t Aramek. I believe that the sentence was rather harsh."
In a few moments the wooden bars were hacked away by Aramek’s handaxe. The human who spoke to them through the bars named himself Braxis and the other called himself Cascio. Braxis instantly swore fealty to Strider and Aramek for saving his life. Cascio, on the other hand, seemed too self-absorbed playing with a snake wrapped around his wrist to notice that he had actually been freed. With a reinvigorated party, Aramek led the way through the tunnels once again.

After many dead ends and wrong turns, the party finally made their way back into an area of worked stone. The long hallway contained many doors. A decision was upon the party on how to proceed. It was obvious that evil humanoids lurked beyond the portals, but everyone had a theory on how to proceed. Braxis suggested working from one room to the next, quietly slitting the throats of unprepared orcs and thereby reducing their force dramatically before an inevitable confrontation. Strider found this to be sound advice. Cascio thought it might be a better idea if someone had a magical potion that would turn his snake into a demon, so that it could kill everyone. Everyone stared blankly at him for a moment before trying to pretend that actual words did not come from his mouth. Braxis and Strider were fine-tuning their plans, when Aramek said "ferk it" and kicked down the nearest door, pandemonium instantly erupted.

Aramek awaited in the hallway with his companions as orcs poured out from every available portal. Steel met steel and the pain of battle was on everyone’s lips. The adventurers bunched together, a tactic that saved them from certain doom as wave after wave of orcs attempted to sunder them. The battle was going in favor of the party before an ogre and his two pet wolves showed up. The wolves tore into their ranks as his greataxe dealt heavy damage to both Strider and Aramek. Eventually the party prevailed through sheer tenacity, but with great cost. Stella had taken a blow so fatal that not even the divine power of Ehlonna could undo. In all the days Strider had fought by his side, he had never seen Aramek even close to tears. Not when the orcs tore his flesh with their weapons, not when Belaks dark powers had been used upon him, not even when he threw himself off the side of a chasm…no, not once did he cry. Yet at the sight of Stella’s motionless body, tears began to well in his eyes. No one needed encouragement to leave him alone with her body as he gave her the last rights.

It seemed like a few hours before Aramek had finally finished. Without so much as a glance at the rest of the party, he started to head onward into the depths of the dwarven stronghold.

"Wel, what ar ya waitin fer ya bunch of firgin yaks!"

The next few days were spent watching Braxis set off every single trap the dwarven stronghold ever built and resting once they had been triggered. The groups exploration eventually led them to the lower levels of the complex, an area called the Glitterhame. There they met up with a man Aramek knew as Eblis and his dwarven companion Bandar. Eblis was mercenary, according to Aramek, but still a damn good man to have in fight. With the addition of Eblis and Bandar to the group, everyone’s moral instantly improved as they saw their chance of survival go up dramatically.

More exploring led to an ironclad door that not even Braxis could open.

Braxis: "This lock is too complex for me. We need to find a key."

Eblis: "Let me try mine."

Within a few moments Eblis was able to carve through the steel like a hot knife through butter. Even Aramek couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping.

With the door demolished, the group entered the depths of the stronghold. Reclaiming the forge was a battle hard fought. Cascio went down in the first couple of seconds completely beyond revival. Strider was also beaten into unconsciousness. Only, Bandar, Aramek, Braxis, and Eblis were left standing. Braxis looking for healing potions made the fatal mistake of exploring the nearby rooms on the level of the forge and literally woke the dead. An undead orc beat Braxis’ body into a pulp while the rest of the group was apprehending the duegar who had laid claim to the forge of fury.

Aramek: "That was e nasty hit, lad."

Strider: "Where are we?"

Aramek: "Back in Blasingdale, lad. Ya had sum nasty wounds there."

Strider: "…"

Aramek: "A letter has cum fer ya. If Aim not mistakn it be the same as the one Ai receivd. Ya ever heard of Homlet?"

 

[SolidSnake]

Richfest, 591 CY

These past few days have surpassed all of my expectations. It seems as if the group that had traveled to Blasingdell has not met its end prematurely. As I had expected, most of the members were slain. This is to be expected with the solemnity of the task before us. I never place all of my hopes on a single group of people, which is why I have been cultivating other skillful men and women elsewhere on Flanaess…

Over the years, Otto and I have had many discussions about the concepts of fate and destiny. Many conceive of prophecies as instructions for precise cause and effects to bring about a predefined outcome. I; however, have a different opinion on the matter. Instead of the usual epic hero destined to slay the great evil, I think of prophecy as a way of stacking the odds in one’s favor. There is no one man or woman destined to change the course of history; instead many men and women attract favorable outcomes through interactions with other players. One important man changes another, who changes another and so on and so forth. As the critical mass is reached, the favorable outcomes attract to these persons like gravity. I would never have guessed that the one they call Aramek would have survived the trials thus far, but he did and in so doing brought Strider and Eblis to him. Is Aramek the one destined to destroy the Temple and rid the world of the Taint? Most likely not, but maybe Eblis and Strider will be…Aramek; thus, has played his part by increasing the odds of our survival. And yet how can anyone be sure that it is indeed Strider? Could not Bandar be the one? Perhaps…or perhaps Bandar will be the one to find that great champion…but then again no such person exists. It is the collection of Eblis, Strider, Aramek, Bandar, and the future Champions of Flanaess that will slay the great evil. No one man can change the course of our destiny…no…it will be the will of many that decide this outcome. I fear that my writing has suffered as a direct consequence of sleep deprivation; however, I will allow this journal entry to survive…maybe the future readers can discern some form of logic from my meager ramblings.

-Mordenkainen, High Defender of Flanaess and Leader of the Circle of Eight

 

[SolidSnake]

October 17th, 747- “Even though you know a thousand things, ask the man who knows one.”

Only after Monsette had made sure that he was nearly hoarse did he allow everyone proceed into the town. The main road was fairly easy to spot; everyone trudged onward. Although it was late in the night, Monsette did notice the familiar glow of torchlight not too far in the distance. Within moments a young man dressed for battle intercepted them. He had on a chain shirt and wore the raven’s tunic Monsette had seen in Zidendorf. Although the man did not brandish his weapon, Monsette was clear on one thing: if he was provoked there would be a battle here.

“Gentlemen, how may I assist you,” the man spoke. It was more a demand than a question.

“Could you tell us where we are? It seems that we have lost our way,” Monsette replied in a raspy voice.

“This is the village of Vallaki. What business do you have here?”

“We are here to speak with a local merchant by the name of Gunter Edel. However, we are very tired at the moment and require lodgings for the night. Could you recommend any places to stay?”

The tension visibly melted from the young man’s face.

“Come with me, I have just the place. It is a quiet place called the Blue Water Inn. The innkeeper is named Takoff…he is a good man. Stay there the night and let me berth your horses. I am the Watch Captain tonight, but it is almost the end of my shift anyway.

The young captain led the party through the streets of Vallaki. For a village, it seemed rather large to Monsette. The main road ended in the center of the village, where a great cobblestone plaza had been built. The plaza was complete with a well, a small park, and most manner of shops anyone could conceive off…for a village, it seemed rich indeed. As it was late, the captain had to wake Takoff from his slumber so that the party had an opportunity to acquire rooms. The rooms were fairly steep for Monsette’s tastes, but it was better than freezing to death outside. Takoff made no fuss about Raul being a Vistani and his wife even offered to take care of the baby for the night. Everyone was so enamored with this show of generosity that even Monsette’s naturally paranoid behavior evaporated.

_____________
October 18th, 747

The next morning, Monsette awoke rather refreshed. The rooms they had rented were simple, yet very cozy. As he existed his room, Monsette found Raul playing with his baby in the company of Helga (Takoff’s wife). Breakfast had already been laid out on the table, so Monsette politely obliged by taking a pastry and cup of coffee. While he ate, he began to go over the events of the previous night in his mind. What did that man mean about “half-dead?”

Sam and Shinlaiden joined him a little later in the company of an older gentleman. The man was garbed in simple blue robes and almost completely bald. As Sinlaiden and Sam sat down, so too did the old man. Both of the warriors exchanged perplexed glances with each other and with Monsette. The man didn’t hesitate to help himself to everything available on the table. Monsette was just about to ask them man if he could help him, when he began to launch into a litany of questions.

“Came in last night, eh,” the man asked murmured.

“Yes, last night…we are travelers from a distant land,” Monsette replied smoothly.

“Distant land eh? Where did you say that was again?”

“A small country far to the south…I’m sure you never heard of it.”

“Come, come. Tell me the name. I am a traveler as well, I am sure that I know it.”

“It is called…Gamoosh,” Monsette declared quickly.

“You’re right. I never heard of it, which explains your funny accent. I would have said that you were from Invidia, but there is something wrong with your pronunciations. So what are you folks here for?”

“We came looking for a man called Gunter Edel. Do you know him?”

“Of course I do. Gunter is a good friend of mine. Why one time-”

“Do you know where he is, I meant to say.”

“Well he did leave town a while back, but his daughter runs his store in the meantime. Here name is Anya. Beautiful girl she is.”

“I’m sorry, I never properly introduced myself. My name is Monsette Dezerai.”

“Fezzini, at your service. And may I give you folks some advice about Barovia?”

“Every little bit helps,” Monsette answered knowingly.

“This land is ruled by Count Strahd von Zarovich. Is a ruthless man; a true tyrant…lives in Castle Ravenloft, a large keep overlooking a huge lake. He only has two rules: don’t ever go to his castle uninvited and don’t ever harm a Vistani. No one really much likes the Vistani, but anyone who harms them is executed. The people in this town mind their own business, so don’t go poking around too much if you know what I mean.”

“Thank you Fizzini, you have been most helpful.”

Leaving Raul with Helga and Fizzini, Monsette took Sam and Shinlaiden to the shop Fizzini had described. It wasn’t difficult to find as it was directly across the plaza. It was a small shop, devoted mostly to common items useful for long journeys. Anya was as Fizzini described her: beautiful. Monsette nearly forgot was he was going to say, until Shinlaiden bumped into him in an attempt to enter the building. While Monsette recovered his sense, he asked Shinlaiden to remain outside with Sam. He then proceeded to strike up calm conversation with the lovely Anya. From little dialogue Monsette was able to piece together a very important bit of information: namely that Gunter Edel had traveled to a festival in Karina…the capitol of Invida (the country the group had traveled from)! In a fit of rage Monsette ran out of the store and began to punch a confused Shinlaiden in the chest. Once he had calmed down Monsette reentered the store and began to explain the whole story of why he was in Vallaki. Anya patiently sat there and listened to everything. Monsette asked many questions of Anya: where Gunter was staying in Karina, what day he and his wife were married, what he looked like, what kind of nicknames did he have, who he was traveling with…and so on. At first Anya was hesitant with the information as some of it was of personal nature, but Monsette assured her that this information was crucial to the group finding him and warning him of a possible assassination attempt. Monsette was so persuasive that Anya granted him a hefty loan to save her father. Still…Monsette wasn’t satisfied with the amount of information he had received…he needed to be sure. Before heading back to the Blue Water Inn, Monsette visited the local baker (Petrov) and a rich merchant named Aressek…both knew Gunter and would be able to corroborate any information Monsette had. Although both had nothing terribly interesting to say, Aressek let slip the fact that there was a ship about to set sail from Zidendorf. The captain’s name was Timothy and if Monsette could catch it, he could make it to Karina in no time!

Dropping by the Blue Water Inn to pick up their things, the party said goodbye to Raul who had decided to stay in the village. Raul suggested picking up a guide in a village called Berez; someone who might be able to secure safe passage through the woods to Zidendorf…if it was indeed Monsette’s intention to take a shortcut through the forest.

The trip down the Old Svitch Road was fairly uneventful. Monsette and the rest of the party had no trouble locating Berez, as it was the only other village on the Old Svitch Road besides Vallaki. Whereas Vallaki was near in stature to a small town, Berez was closer to a hamlet in size. Only one large building graced this dirty, ragged community: The Boar’s Tavern. As it’s name implied, it was mostly filled with disreputable men forced to hide from the reality of life with large quantities of ale…well it was mostly that way. The rough tavern was typical…except for the dark armor-clad individual that no one would sit next to. He was a very tall man, endowed with obvious physical strength. His armor was freshly polished and decorated with many markings of a distinguished military officer. Clasped to the armor was a rich blue cape and adorning his hands were thick leather gloves. Covering his face was black hood with three red lines streaking across the face. The man would occasionally lift the mask to sip at the small mug of tea in front of him. No one dared to look in his direction, for the pale blue eyes that the mask did not hide were as cold as steel.

Summoning his courage and his entourage, Monsette walked calmly over to the intimidating warrior and asked if he could sit. Without speaking the man motioned for the only other chair at his table.

“Hello good sir, my name is Monsette Dezerai and I as I am new to these parts I am need of assistance,” Monsette said through forced calm.

“What can I do for you Mr. Dezerai,” the man intoned coldly.

“Well, you see…my companions and I need to get to Zidendorf quickly, but the only obvious way to the town is on the Old Svitch Road. Now if someone knew how to-”

“-navigate the forest, it would get you there much quicker,” the man finished smoothly.

“Yes…that’s right.”

“I happen to be going in that direction and I wouldn’t mind escorting you and your friends. My name is Sullivan Dane,” the man said as he extended his gloved hand.

Monsette shook it vigorously with thanks and was willing to pay the man for his services, when Dane refused. As it turned out Sullivan was a priest for a deity named Ezra. The faith he described was very similar to Monsette’s and the two had a long theological discussion before setting out on the road. Dane rode atop a large black war horse; an animal that seemed to fit him all too well. The group rode in absolute silence, with Dane stopping every so often to get off his horse in order to allow it to rest. All day and all night did the group travel until by divine intervention did they reach the town of Zidendorf without any encounters with the Children of the Night. Monsette and the rest of the party were only able to stay awake through sheer fear of being devoured by evil…Dane had told them he had been hunting vampires a few days before, but that others might come to avenge them at any time…he coincidentally timed this story when it was too late to turn back onto the road.

________
October 19th, 747

The town of Zidendorf was a sight to see at sunrise. True, he had cursed the town most of the way to Vallaki, but somehow it had changed from a thug-infested border town to bastion of hope! With a bright smile plastered to his haggard face, Monsette and the rest of the party walked down to the docks in search of Captain Timothy. As it turned out, he wasn’t a very hard man to find…his ship, “the Virgo,” and him were infamous in these parts. He looked and talked like an old sailor…which wasn’t saying much for him as person. Negotiations were slow going as he really didn’t want anyone on else on his ship. Monsette had to agree to a hefty sum of money to get all the members of his group on the ship…and even still, Captain Timothy didn’t agree to allow any horses on. This left Monsette with the task of selling the horses off at nearly half their price to the local merchants. The only other passenger on the Virgo besides Monsette, Shinlaiden, and Sam was an alluring woman by the name of Miss Romaine. She also claimed to be headed towards the festival. Miss Romaine was a quiet and soft-spoken woman whose voice resembled crushed velvet. Her scarlet dress clung to the contours of her body, testing Monsette’s powers of will. The only way the priest was able to distract himself from the seductive woman was to listen to Captain Timothy’s racist remarks on the Vistani. Apparently he had an endless supply of stories on Vistani cursing sailors and the consequences of such evil magic on their lives. Monsette listened to the bigot drone on for hours before he had had enough. Before going below deck to his “sleeping quarters” (the cargo hold floor), he took one more look back to see Shinlaiden and Sam staring up at the stars in the company of Miss Romaine. Although neither Sam nor Shinlaiden could communicate in the local language it was interesting to watch them try. Smiling to himself, Monsette went to bed…it was going to be one of those trips after all…

 

[SolidSnake]

October 21st, 747- "He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword."

Monsette watched the acres upon acres of vineyards wash by his vision as the Virgo approached Karina. Captain Timothy was talking about something, but it couldn’t distract Monsette from the gorgeous view. The leaves were beginning to change color…

“So I’ll be staying at the Black Swan if you are interested in REAL entertainment,” Captain Timothy announced.

His attention now diverted, Monsette began to ask about the city of Karina and where one could find the “Maiden’s Kiss.”

“That is far too expensive for my tastes…but since you asked…go down East Front Street to the Wine Garden until you hit Brewer Street…even you three can’t miss it,” Timothy said with a slight chuckle.

Entering the city with weapons proved to be rather expensive, but almost worth the economic impediment. Everyone appeared to be joyous and merry. No one was without a glass (or in some cases a bottle) of Karina’s finest wines as they danced through the streets adorned with colorful costumes and masks of interesting design. Monsette was about to go explore a small stand selling interesting trinkets when Shinlaiden grabbed him roughly and pointed into the crowd. The investigator couldn’t see anything at first, but after a few moments he spotted Vanyel in the throng of people! Using Sam and Shinlaiden as human plows, Monsette pressed forward. Grabbing Monsette, the group made for the nearest quiet area…which turned out to be Vanyel’s room (located in the Maiden’s Kiss). As it turned out, Vanyel had no idea how he got in Karina, or even that any time had passed at all. Right after he vanished into thin air, Vanyel remembered floating a void with a grey, white, and black orb. The orbs told him that he would be tested and then he woke up in this Inn. Needless to say Monsette wasn’t satisfied with this answer…

“The creature that kidnapped you said that you were ‘half-dead’…care to explain that,” Monsette said with a rather penetrating stare.

With a heavy sigh, Vanyel began to recount his tale.

“Ever since I was a young boy I had been deemed “special” by all those around him. I have powers that come naturally, beyond the arcane instruction the True Way have so generously donated. I am attuned to the life energies around me; I feel the life in all living things.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before,” Shinlaiden demanded.

“I am your superior Shinlaiden…you need to know whatever I decide is necessary,” Vanyel said with a hint of irritation.

Sam burst out laughing.

“We are fighting for our lives out here and you are still concerned with pulling rank,” Sam gasped between fits of laughter. “We are finished out here!”

“Sam, we shouldn’t lose hope. We are doing good deeds while looking for a way out of this situation,” Monsette declared in the hopes of diffusing the situation.

After checking into the Maiden’s Kiss, Monsette inspected the guest list for any signs of Gunter Edel. Sadly, the man had checkout out of the Inn a few days ago. Angry, Monsette decided to call it a day. The rest of the night past quickly in slumber once every door and window was checked…with the addition of a secret passcode only known to the party…

___________
October 22nd, 747

In the morning Monsette saw his reflection in the wash basin smile wickedly back at him. The day pretty much started the way it ended…badly. A pipe full of tobacco later the group was off looking for Gunter Edel. The search party consisted of Sam, Shinlaiden and Vanyel. Monsette wanted to stay behind in the off chance that Gunter would come back.

The excursion party seemed to do more sightseeing than searching. Karina was indeed a beautiful city; the huge clock in the center of the city was testament to the creativity of the people. Nestled between two rivers, Karina seemed to have mild weather at any given time of the day…the drawback was that the humidity produced fog. Vendors littered the streets, making it difficult not to sample many of the wines available. People from all over the realms were at the Festival: Borkans, Barovians, Falkovians, and even merchants as far as Dementlieu. The only contrast to this joyous occasion was that for some reason gallows had been erected in the middle of the main plaza of the city. Further inquiry revealed that at the completion of the Festival, prisoners were to be executed.

Sam, Vanyel, and Shinlaiden returned to the Inn empty handed and a bit inebriated. Getting anywhere in the city was difficult because of the sheer number of people in the streets. Luckily everyone made it back without injury, even after an arrogant nobleman attempted to ride the party down because they did not move quickly enough for his tastes. Shinlaiden and Sam rested a bit before Monsette switched places with Vanyel…More searching and questioned revealed little, if not the layout of the city. The city seemed constructed around the great plaza housing the clock. To the east lay Brewer street, with its rich shops, eloquent minstrels, and lovely cafés. To the west lay what people referred to as the Maze…it was an extremely poor section of town, inhabited with prostitutes, street thugs, and other degenerates society had to offer. Directly south of the Maze was the Falkovian Quarter. Apparently Falkovian merchants were able to purchase an entire section of the city together. Where the Maze was chaos, the Falkovian Quarter was absolute law. Apparently the Falkovian merchants brought some soldiers from their home country to ensure that none of their goods were “liberated” by the local populous. In the center of the Quarter stood a small fortress with a flag bearing the symbol of a hawk on it. The locals described the Falkovians as cold and ruthless disciplinarians...no one with half a brain would antagonize such people. Monsette made a quick appraisal of the environment: “east part of town nice, west part of town bad.”

While staying on the pleasant side of the city, the party the party was privy to many wonderful sights and sounds of the Festival. The day was not completely without its brush with reality; however. While through the Wine Garden, the band noticed a duel break out between two important members of a wedding: the man to be married and what appeared to be the “Best Man.” The fight was quick and brutal, with both men dying instantly after drawing blood…Monsette didn’t need to be an alchemist to know that poison was at fault. That wasn’t the strangest part…during the fight a woman approached Sam as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Between the screams of horror and rage, the woman began to flirt with him! Monsette agreed that she was well beyond the bounds of gorgeous, but he refused to let Sam endanger his vows of chastity over a woman. Monsette explained the reason for Sam’s inability to speak: mental retardation. The priest of Viminau, sworn to the pursuit of the truth, told the fair maiden that Sam couldn’t speak because a donkey had kicked him in the head when he was a boy. Needless to say that the woman didn’t stick around for much longer once she was presented with that piece of information.

Sam was about to ask why it was that the woman left when he noticed Shinlaiden staring down a man in the crowd. It was the very same noble that had nearly run down the party earlier in the day! Cracking his knuckles, the 6’ bruiser strode forward with purpose. Stopping two inches in front of the noble, Shinlaiden simply stood menacingly. The noble seemed no stranger to fights, because his eyes bore right into Shinlaiden’s skull. Things might have gotten out of hand had Monsette not intervened with soothing words for both men. The priest was so successful; in fact, that the noble invited the party into the nearest tavern for a drink. Ordering Sharp (local ale), the noble sat down with the members of the party.

“I can tell that you men are foreigners from your manners. Frankly I don’t care where you’re from or what you are doing here. My name is Matton Blanchard and I have invited you here to offer you a very important job,” the man said contemptuously.

Before anyone could respond to the man’s “offer,” he continued on unabated.

“A woman of great importance was recently kidnapped by a she named the “Gentlemen Caller.” I have found out that she is being held captive in a mansion not far from Karina. The man who holds her is evil beyond understanding, which is why I will pay you five gold marks per day to find and return her to me. There is some entertainment scheduled tonight at a warehouse in the Falkovian Quarter…if you want the job, meet me there at the stroke of midnight.”

Leaving the tavern in a contemplative mood, Monsette directed the party back towards the “Maiden’s Kiss.” The group was about to turn down Brewer Street when they heard a barker hail them.

“Brave the ghosts of the past for a modest fee,” the man challenged.

He was instantly recognizable as a Vistani from his dark skin tone and colorful clothing. He stood next to a large wooden box with a curtain hanging over the face. An exotic bird was perched on top of the box, squawking at the pedestrians passing by.

“Come…it is safe,” the man encouraged.

Monsette was really in no hurry to get back to the Inn and it seemed that Shinlaiden was in need of some entertainment, so he sanctioned the immense warrior to give it a try. Logically speaking, Monsette didn’t really know what a box with a curtain over it could really accomplish in the way of entertainment. From the look of its depth, it would appear that Shinlaiden would only be able to walk in and out…if barely. Shinlaiden stepped into the box and the Vistani closed the curtain behind him. Sam and Monsette starred at one another with looks of confusion for a few minutes and then went back to watching the box. What could he be doing in there that could take this long? It was then that his questions were answered. Shinlaiden fell out of the box on the verge of tears; he looked like an emotional wreck, but he was physically fine.

“What have you done to my friend,” Monsette demanded.

“The help you need can be found at Vulpwood…if you have the courage,” the man replied just before slipping inside the box and disappearing altogether.

Trying to drag the troubled Shinlaiden back to the Inn was difficult. His eyes were wide with fear and he kept yelling about how he was a dead man. Monsette waited until they got back to the Inn before questioning the poor man about what happened. Recounting the tale was slow going, because Monsette was barely able to piece together the fragments of fear Shinlaiden was experiencing. To the best of his ability, Monsette managed to get this out of Shinlaiden’s incomprehensible story: the were-panther that had attacked him back in Invidia was somehow contained in that box. This was impossible as Shinlaiden barely fit in the box, not to mention that no sound was emitted the entire time Shinlaiden was inside. However, according to the story he had fought with it inside and managed to wrestle it to the ground somehow. In a fit of rage, he snapped its neck…or so he thought. When he looked down again it was himself he was holding and his neck that was snapped…very disturbing indeed. Monsette would have continued to try and piece things together had not Raul burst into the Inn’s common room!

The Vistani looked haggard, like he had run all day and all night with no rest in-between. Dashing over to the table the party was sitting at, he sat down quickly…a wild look in his eyes. Before he could speak, Monsette spoke:

“Raul, mind telling me how you got here? Never mind the fact that you don’t have Nikki with you.”

“Nikki is back at the camp with my people in Vulpwood! The Mists transported me somehow from Barovia in order to fetch you for the Zarovin clan. They are the oldest tribe of the Vistani people and they summoned me here to get you! You must come quickly,” Raul said out of breath.

No one wasted anytime talking, they just acted. Within minutes, they were heading towards Vulpwood completely ready for anything that could possibly happen.

The group was heading towards the North Gates on the High Road when Vanyel and Monsette heard “Watch out!” from directly in front of them. People had only seconds to react to the oncoming barrels. The driver of the cart was thrown out of his seat as his horses went wild and bolted down the street. His cargo unfortunately was casks of heavy liquid that were hurtling towards children playing in the street. Everyone reacted at once. Shinlaiden ran towards the kids while Sam tried to stop the horses from trampling any other innocents. The burly man did manage to save one child from injury, but he could not rescue the other from a broken leg caused by the heavy barrel. As soon as the danger was over, the parents of the children ran up to Shinlaiden and Monsette to retrieve them. Everything instantly went back to the way it was…like no one had seen anything. Monsette was livid! The driver of the cart nearly killed two innocent children and he didn’t even apologize for his negligence! Monsette was about to grab the nearest pedestrian and demand what was going on when he spotted a child scowling at him from across the street. He was obviously a noble of some sort from the way he dressed: black and white finery. All time seemed to slow...the boy and the man simply looked at one another. A group of revelers unconcerned with the chaos passed between them laughing…once they had passed, the boy was gone. Monsette continued to stare at the spot where the boy was.

“What should we do Monsette,” Raul asked.

“Nothing…no one cares anyway,” Monsette replied sourly.

The group moved quickly to make up for lost time. I want answers! This had better be worth it!

 

[SolidSnake]

Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session One – “A DRAGON? ALREADY?!?”

“News? Strange things have been going on. Why, just yesterday, a huge pack of wolves carried off all our children! Then Bigby himself showed up to take possession of the castle on that hill for his own personal use, and an evil dragon came rampaging through town eating only people who had black hair..."

The bartender’s dripping sarcasm stunned Strider. All he had asked the woman was if there was any news in the quiet little town of Hommlet, and she’d rolled her eyes and launched into that litany of tall tales. What’s her problem?

Just after cleaning out the Forge near Blasingdale, Strider, Eblis, Aramek, and Bandar had received summons signed by an undersecretary of Mordenkein to go to Hommlet. Aramek had decided to take care of some business and catch up to the group later, saying “Bah, wu’ll be fightin’ side by side soon ‘nuff.”

The other three followed Mordenkein’s directions, though no explanation about the summons was provided. Throughout the ten-day journey, silent helpers provided them with fresh horses, and their lodgings and fares were all pre-paid. Someone wanted them in Hommlet, and fast.

Which is why their welcome made no sense. Nobody in the sleepy, homely town gave the trio further directions. Hommlet was ordinary, peaceful, friendly, and boring. What now?

Strider showed the sarcastic bartender his summons from Mordenkein, and Bandar produced his copy as well. The poor woman’s nasty tone faded into silence as she read the notice. Showing it to her didn’t help much, because she was so stunned that all she could do is gape at Strider. Apparently she hadn’t heard about the summons…

The guards at the castle were not too helpful, either. They said they would pass word to Rufus and Bern, the reclusive rulers of Hommlet, but the group waited the rest of the day without hearing anything.

What was going on?
---------------------------------------

A walking suit of full plate armor came into town from the North, covered by a thick cloak. The suit walked up to the Temple of Pelor and knocked. The acolyte who answered did not recognize the armored man who lifted the face guard and claimed to be Lathandar, a cleric of Pelor. High Priest Yethir came and listened to the newcomer’s brief story, noting Lathandar’s gorgeous, almost feminine face and serious tone. Lathandar had summons from Mordenkein to proceed to Hommlet for an unknown reason. Yethir knew nothing of the summons, but allowed Lathandar to stay at the Temple as long as he performed his share of chores. The somber cleric agreed and did as he was told, praying to Pelor during his spare time.

---------------------------------------

A strange but beautiful elven woman sauntered into Hommlet, seeming to know her way there though she had never seen the town before. She wore provocatively tight black leather that hugged her lovely form and exposed plenty of skin. Her hair, lipstick, eyeshadow, and nail polish all were pitch black, which tended to unsettle normal folk she met. Around her neck clung her ferret Slim, and she carried a longsword and bow.

After poking around Hommlet, seeming to reacquaint herself with her surroundings, the elf found a grove of trees near the castle and ventured into it. A young man and a wolf confronted her as she trespassed, but she easily won over the wolf using her familiarity with animals. Introducing herself as Merkaeytl Thelandria, she put the young man named Yundi off guard with her direct manner. Learning that a druid named Jaru owned the grove, she asked for him, and soon the old man arrived, put out by the disturbance.

Merk wasted no time in grilling Jaru about the foremost topic on her mind – the latest news on the Moathouse and Temple. Jaru bristled at her attitude and probing questions, but she did learn that the Jaru and the two men who lived in the castle, Rufus the warrior and Bern the wizard, had been part of the group that had destroyed the evil in the Temple twenty years ago. The old druid had retired from adventuring and had no current knowledge of the Moathouse and Temple, and had no interest in finding out. Jaru then shooed Merk out, telling Yundi not to let anyone into the grove without his permission.

Merk wandered back toward the street and saw a handsome man emerge from the Welcome Wench Inn, and with her usual subtlety, shouted “Hey! You!”

Strider turned and noticed the gothic elf. Full of curiosity and drawing himself up to his full height, he approached. The two introduced themselves and took stock of each other, having a conversation that was half-inquisitive and half-flirting. Strider showed Merk his letter from Mordenkein explaining why he was in town, eliciting a scornful laugh from the elf, who’d been alive too long to believe anyone even mentioning the great wizard. But if there is evil in the Temple again, maybe Mordenkein would summon adventurers such as Strider…Merk caught Strider’s ears with snippets of knowledge about the Moathouse, demonstrating that she had hints about what was going on and could be valuable. Strider asked Merk to dinner at the Inn in the evening so they could discuss this matter more, and she acknowledged his invitation with a playful smile.

Merk had a way with some people, but not with others. She entered the Inn and rented a room. She talked with the bartender Meridisan over the terrible, screeching ‘music’ that a flamboyant elven minstrel named Redethador was playing to the nearly deserted room. A man sitting and drinking an ale seemed to be physically pained by the bard’s howling, but the other patron, a small gnome, actually seemed to be enjoying the performance! Quickly reaching the end of her rope, Merk screamed “SHUT UP!” at the minstrel, who immediately stopped, looking at her in outrage. One thing led to another – Merk described exactly how bad the elf’s music was, he challenged her to a duel, and the next thing they knew, they were both outside, taunting each other and getting ready to throw daggers in a duel.

The touchy Redethador bemused Merk, and she felt no regret over telling him exactly how bad his music was. When he declared they would march five paces and then turn and throw, Merk prepared to knock him out when his back was turned. The town militia put a stop to her fun, pouring out of the building next to the Inn in heavy armor, led by a scarred and grim man who ordered their weapons down. Both elves continued to taunt one another as they laid down their arms, each trying to get in the last word. The militia master, Elmo, threatened to throw them both out of town if there was another disturbance. Redethador soon stalked off in a huff, and Merk pushed her way back into the Inn.

Merk topped even herself shortly thereafter, telling the friendly innkeeper Vesta to “shut up,” and being completely banned from the Inn. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but at least I got my deposit back. That throws a kink into my plans…

The cocky elf wandered over to Elmo’s building, where the experienced fighter sat in his office with his boots on the table. One of his eyebrows raised as she entered, but he became friendly after she started asking about the details of guarding Hommlet. Seeing Strider returning from his run, she called him in, and both adventurers chatted with Elmo about the Moathouse and Temple. Apparently, he had helped clean out the Moathouse twenty years before but hadn’t explored the Temple, and as far as he knew there was nothing in either place any more. However, none of his town patrols got close to either site, and the retired heroes of the town showed no interest in learning if anything was living in those places. Strider and Merk agreed to meet the next morning and travel to the Moathouse to see if anything was going on, and parted ways.

At dinnertime, Strider sat down with Eblis and Bandar and reviewed what they had learned that day. As they quietly discussed their plans for going to the Moathouse, the flamboyant Redethador approached their table, clearly expecting an invitation to sit. Awkwardly, Strider asked him to join their table. The trio soon found that the elven minstrel took offense easily at imagined slights, and was very emotional. Lacking any subtlety, Redethador told the group that he has all sorts of tales of the adventurers who destroyed the Moathouse and Temple, which caught their attention. Shortly thereafter Redethador, oblivious to the group, was nearly in tears because the Moathouse is mere rubble these days. He sighed, bemoaning the lack of a great struggle against evil where he might play a central role and be sung of forever more in legends. The group was beginning to tire of the elf’s rambling, interminable discourse.

Strider said “Redethador, things may seem quiet…on the surface.” He looked slyly at the bard and continued “But what if something is going on…behind the scenes…” he trailed off, looking at Redethador knowingly, assuming the minstrel would catch on to his joking manner.

Instead, Redethador grew suddenly very intrigued and very serious: “Behind the scenes…yes…something behind the scenes might be going on…I see…” he intoned, fascinated by Strider’s suggestion.

“Mwwfff!” the three adventurers barely suppressed their laughter.

“I shall investigate what is going on – behind the scenes!” Redethador said with a flourish, his stage whisper quite possibly audible to every individual in the noisy room. Then he snuck out of the Inn, his eyes shifting back and forth, his cloak pulled cloak as if he were already outside and hiding from prying eyes.

“HA HA HA!” the table burst out laughing, scarcely believing that someone could be so naïve and so easily manipulated. In between bouts of laughter, Strider wondered if there actually was something going on “behind the scenes” that someone as clueless as Redethador might stumble into and wind up dead. Could I have just doomed that foolish man? He thought, uneasily, but brushed the thought aside.

The three adventurers slept overnight in rooms at the Inn. Accustomed to living in the forest, Merk found a nice tall tree and went to sleep on one of its branches, comfortable as possible.
---------------------------

After breakfast, Eblis announced that he had “things to work out” and wouldn’t be joining the others for an exploration of the Moathouse. Strider and Bandar accepted this excuse with curiosity, and went out of the Inn. They soon found Merk, no longer as stunning because she wore bulky leather armor for the journey.

Just at that moment, Lathandar emerged from the Temple of Pelor, having just learned from High Priest Yethir that other individuals had Mordenkein’s summons to Hommlet. He could easily identify the trio as strangers to the area and approached them, introducing himself very formally. The others invited him to go to the Moathouse, and he accepted, having them wait until he suited up for the journey. Lathandar wore his shimmering suit of full plate and carried a strange box, as well as his weapons.

The Moathouse was a full day’s journey from Hommlet – the group struck out at daybreak and reached there before sunset. The only person they ran into was a trapper named Odel, who claimed to have seen walking dead, strange priests, and a dragon around the Moathouse, and warned the party to stay away. Maybe it isn’t abandoned.

Lathandar opened his curious box, which contained holy texts inside, and he sat down to pray for thirty minutes, with little explanation. Once he was done, impatient Merk asked whether he’d be doing that often, to which Lathandar icily replied “I stop everything for God. What is more important than God?” Surprised, Merk backed off.

As the shadows grew long, the four adventurers approached the ruined Moathouse. Its towers and roofs were caving in, walls crumbling, and nothing seemed to stir. The swampy moat around the place limited them to entering through the front gate. As the party neared the drawbridge, they spotted something round and greenish hidden in the reeds. While the others readied their weapons, Strider stealthily neared the object. The huge frog that reared up caught him by surprise, and in an instant its tongue shot out and wrenched him bodily to its razor-sharp teeth.

Strider’s longsword was useless at close-quarters, so he drew his shortsword and dagger and slashed at the creature, inches from a horrible bite. Lathandar rushed forward to help, soon joined by Bandar as Merk shot at the frog from afar. Strider took the brunt of the monster’s attacks as the group slowly wore it down. Finally the beast collapsed, dead, and the group heaved a sigh of relief. Lathandar healed Strider, and the group cautiously entered the Moathouse.

Immediately apparent was the streak of dried blood proceeding from their spot, all the way across the courtyard and up the main steps into a large room some distance away. Merk and Strider silently explored the immediate area for any dangers, and once they determined all was safe, Merk told the rest about what creatures had resided in those places when the last group had cleaned out the Moathouse. She apparently has studied with some elf who had adventured with the prior group, and had told Merk all about their exploits.

Strider and Merk explored the tower to the right of the entrance and found that the coast was clear, so Lathandar and Bandar entered behind them. As the two in the vanguard moved down the hallway, followed closely by their friends, their world erupted in light and pain. An instant later, Bandar lay unconscious; Lathandar and Strider stood burnt and shocked; Merk’s quick instincts had saved her, so she remained unscathed.

The party members’ brains caught up with events, and those still able leapt behind the closest wall as the blue dragon down the hall chuckled and approached. [Player’s aside: I’ve been playing AD&D for eight years and never dreamed of sending an adult dragon against a group of four fourth-level characters! Even though we’re very experienced players, eight of our PC’s died in the Sunless Citadel and Forge of Fury. Now our DM throws a DRAGON at us? Oh, how I hate him.]

Strider and Merk scampered away from the monster, firing at it ineffectively as it easily pinned Lathandar. Merk continued to shoot in desperation, but Strider understood what the dragon was telling them – he threw down his weapons and held up his hands.

“Alright, you win! What do you want from us in exchange for getting our friends back and leaving you alone?” he called out.

Bemused, the creature stoked a claw across Lathandar’s face, and answered, “Give me all your valuables and I’ll let you and your friends go.”

Minutes later, all the party’s treasures from past adventures were in the dragon’s possession, including gems, money, potions, scrolls, and magical armor and weapons. Strider retrieved Bandar’s charred body, and Lathandar was freed after he stripped off his beautiful armor.

The blue dragon remained in good humor throughout the group’s humiliation, urging them to kill the “pesky little holy men” who resided in the dungeon levels of the Moathouse. He warned the party not to try to bring a band to kill him because “You won’t win,” he confidently announced. As a parting shot, the arrogant creature offered to have the group stay the night. “I’ll cook!” he joked, roaring with laughter, “Get it?”

Slinking away in shock and defeat, the dragon’s laughter echoing in their ears, the band recouped briefly. Lanthandar healed Bandar back into consciousness, and the others briefly explained what had happened. The dwarf thanked them somberly, shame-facedly. After vowing to free others who suffer in slavery as I did, I disgrace myself by needing to be saved again.

The party trudged back to Hommlet through the night, not speaking to one another, each immersed in dark thoughts. Strider and Bandar had to wake Vesta to get into their rooms, while Merk found her tree and Lathandar returned to the Temple of Pelor. A poor first attempt at the Moathouse – we lost everything and barely stayed alive! Strider thought as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
-------------------
Coming together after breakfast, the party members, joined by Eblis, debated what to do next.

Merk announced “We should tell the town leaders – they’ve all crushed evil before, and they certainly can’t ignore a dragon and evil priests next door! We can’t face that dragon alone without lots of experienced help.”

Strider spoke up “Notifying the authorities won’t help us. They either already know about the dragon and haven’t done anything about it, or they’ll learn about it and not care. They haven’t been helpful so far.”

Merk: “You don’t want to raise the alarm that there’s a dragon in the area? We could save their lives, and what ruler wouldn’t find that information helpful? What’s the worse that could happen?”

Strider: “We don’t know what’s going on, it’s best not to go telling everyone what we’ve seen and done. It could be dangerous.”

Lathandar: “We can return and go through the dragon’s lair to get at the evil priests, as it offered. It might give us our equipment back, it seems set on getting rid of the priests. I must get my armor back. It’s extremely important to me.”

Merk: “You’re going to negotiate with a dragon? It’ll let you do its dirty work by killing the priests, then take all the treasure we get and kill us as well!”

Lathandar: “It’s a choice of greater evils: priests and their undead, or a powerful dragon whom we know is willing to abide by an agreement. He could’ve killed us and taken all that we had, but he didn’t.”

Bandar: “There must be a back entrance to the lower levels of the Moathouse – the priests can’t possibly have to get past the dragon every time they have to get out or in. Then we wouldn’t have to negotiate with the dragon and worry about him holding up a deal. We can’t fight him and win.”

Merk and Strider debated the merits of talking to the authorities or not. After Eblis pointed out that they could not divine what the town’s leaders were thinking or what they would do, the group eventually sided with Merk, and Strider conceded.

They went to the castle and asked to see Rufus or Bern, or both, about an urgent matter. No matter how much they argued and warned, the captain of the guard permitted them only to relay a message, which they did. The group talked some more and decided that they should take on the dragon with as much help as they could muster

As the party waited for Rufus and Bern’s response, Merk tried to recruit Jaru and later Elmo, using all the powers of persuasion she possessed. Neither budged. Jaru got angry and said “I really don’t care what’s over there, and neither do Rufus and Bern. We’ll deal with what comes when it comes.” Merk soothed him as best she could, and eventually Jaru offered to send Yundi to help, if he wished to go.

Doubtful, Merk talked to Yundi and sensed that he was inexperienced, but she knew the group needed all the help they could get. She did not paint a pretty picture about the upcoming battle, but she urged Yundi to come because the cause was good and he could be useful at the rear doing healing. Yundi agreed.

Strider talked to the gnome and the man who hung around the Inn. He found that the gnome was a cartographer seeking to map out the Moathouse and Temple, but had no skills in a fight and wouldn’t be too useful against a dragon. He did recruit Chatrelan, the bald human warrior who was looking for such a challenge. He also convinced Eblis to join the group. Although no response came from Rufus and Bern, the party was now a sizable group, their minds focused on the upcoming fight.
----------------------
The next morning Strider, Merk, Lathandar, Bandar, Eoblis, Yundi, and Chatrelan set off for the Moathouse. They discussed many different plans of battle before settling on one. Everyone who had helpful spells would cast them on Strider, who would hopefully corner the dragon in its lair so it couldn’t fly, or in the trees where he could entangle it with growth. As they neared the Moathouse at dusk again, Lathandar cast all his best spells on Strider, including bless, magic weapon, protection from evil, shield of faith, aid, bull strength, and resist lightning. He bound his lifeforce with Strider’s using shield other. They were set to go.

The group wanted to catch the dragon in its lair, but instead found it waiting for them in the courtyard of the Moathouse. Quickly adapting the plan, Strider charged forward, hoping to catch its breath weapon with his protective spell still activated. Merk ran as fast as she could to the side, quickly arriving in the beast’s lair, arriving at its rear. The others fingered their weapons or readied spells.

The blue dragon beat its wings, hovering in the air and driving the dust in the courtyard to swirl around it, effectively blinding everyone. From then on, the dragon could use its blindsight to hit whomever it wished despite the cloud, while the party was lucky to unleash spells or arrows in the right area. I hate smart dragons! Strider thought, running to where it had been and slashing with his enchanted weapons. He connected and was pleased with the pained roar in reply.

Over the next minute, Strider and the Dragon ripped into each other as the others tried to help. Everything rested on Strider – if he died, the dragon could kill the others without much of a problem. As Merk flailed around with her longsword behind the dragon, Chatrelan and Eblis fired their bow in the dragon’s direction. Bandar used his powerful mind to mentally pummel the dragon, sending waves of force to it every few seconds, which took their toll. Lathandar set vials of oil on fire and threw them at the dragon, but his main function was to share Strider’s pain and suffering through the shield other spell. Yundi stood by Lathandar and healed him frequently, greatly aiding the party.

Strider hacked at the dragon, occasionally missing, but often goring it horribly, although he could not see. The beast raked him with its claws and mauled him with its teeth, until he was on the verge of collapse. Having fought more furiously than he ever had in his life, Strider was horrified that the creature was still alive, and he was grimly certain that his death would mean the death of all. With his last remaining strength, he slashed at the dragon, only to find that the dust was settling. The monster had flown off! He sunk to the ground in total exhaustion and relief.

The group postponed its celebration until it got into the dragon’s lairs and secured the entrances as best it could. They retrieved their equipment that the dragon had taken. However, there was no treasure horde, and Lathandar’s magnificent armor was nowhere to be found. The bodies of two priests of some rare and evil cult lay on the floor, the source of the blood across the courtyard. Nothing was in the adjacent rooms on the first level, but there was a stairwell down. [Player’s note: Sometimes the toughest fights have the least award – no treasure, and only 217 experience per person! Reference above note about how I hate my DM.]

The group returned to Hommlet with their heads held high.

 

[SolidSnake]

October 22nd, 747- “We all labour against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases.” -Sir Thomas Browne

With their heads held high, the party walked into Vulpwood. The forest in question was barely a few miles north from Karina, but everyone still remained tense as soon they left the safety of the stone walls the city provided. Raul seemed to have a good indication of where he was going, as he guided everyone through the dense deciduous forest. Shinlaiden remarked on the abundant wildlife, something that was nonexistent in the dark woods of Barovia. The attempt to lighten the mood was earnest, but unfortunately everyone was too deep in thought to embrace such emotion. After a good bit of walking, the forest began to thin out and eventually reveal a clearing. Within this clearing stood a circle of wagons not unlike the one Raul used in their first encounter...although these seemed to be much more elaborate in design. Campfires gave off warmth and light within the circle...just enough to notice two figures standing infront of the wagons: the Vistani the party had encountered in Karina and an elderly woman!

Before the party even closed the distance, Shinlaiden was running towards the man with a look of hatred in his eyes. Sam and Raul had only seconds to react before the great warrior attacked the Vistani with his bare hands. Luckly, the combined effort of Sam and Raul's body weights was enough to bring the behemoth to the ground. Restraining him was a bit more difficult and consequently required the physical strength of Monsette as well as the soothing words of Vanyel. Once the anger from Shinlaiden had subsided, Raul began to apologize profusely to the old Vistani woman. During the litany Raul gave, Vanyel was picked up the names of both of the mysterious figures: Vincenzo and Madame Eva. Neither one of them seemed to be concerned with Shinlaiden's blatant act of violence; in fact, Madame Eva waved the attempt on Vincenzo's life away as she would a pesky fly.

With some short introductions from the party, Madame Eva invited everyone inside the circle of wagons to the revelries contained within. Vistani danced around the fires to the sound of Raul's violin. Monsette noticed over 20 wagons (Raul's included) and 5 campfires. As the party approached the fires, the investigator began to flesh out Madame Eva's features...it was obvious from her wrinkled flesh that she was very old; however, her eyes betrayed a hunger for life that Monsette had not seen before. Not the hunger of youth, but the one of the wise man who had too much to do before his time expired. Once everyone was seated and with drink, Madame Eva whispered something to Vincenzo that not even Monsette's keen ears picked up.

"It is time for the Daroq," she said solemnly.

A look of confusion passed over the party as they were completely unfamiliar with the customs of the Vistani. As they began to question what Madame Eva had said, another woman by the name of Marsella, supported by Vincenzo, made her way to the campfire the party was seated at. She was young and attractive woman, but her eyes seemed glazed over. It was as if she was not looking at anyone now, but some far off place that only she could see. As soon as she was seated, she
began to speak in a melodious voice.

It was a story of a mother in need and a treacherous daughter…the story of Gabrielle Aderre, a Vistani woman cursed by her own evil. After watching her mother die from a mortal wound inflicted by a werewolf, the Vistani woman wondered the Realms and finally arriving in Invidia. Using her powers of seduction, Gabrielle was able to weaken the previous ruler, a tyrant named Barkolis, and slay him in his sleep. As the new ruler of Invidia, Gabrielle enjoyed much power afforded by the position…power, which she exploited much as the former ruler to harm the people of Invidia. Then, one day all of that changed when the great seductress was enchanted by a man she called the “Gentleman Caller.” It wasn’t long before the “Gentleman Caller” disappeared, leaving Gabrielle with child.

“It is this child that the Zarovan clan is concerned with,” Madame Eva interrupted. “He is the Dukkar…a creature of evil beyond your comprehension. You must find this creature for us…it is our responsibility to deal with it.”

“What of our needs,” Monsette retorted. “Why should we risk our lives in pursuit of this…Dukkar?”

“What is you wish for Giorgio,” Madame Eva asked.

“First, we want to know how to remove a curse that was placed upon us. Second, we want to know how to cure lycanthopy. Finally, we seek knowledge in the Occult,” Monsette recited.

“This is fine,” Madame Eva said impatiently.

“Could you tell us more about the creature,” Vanyel interjected. “Can it assume different forms? I am also curious why is it that you have selected us for this task.”

“As far as we know, the Dukkar cannot change shape. The reason you were selected was the fact that you can pass easily through Karina and the surrounding area. The creature can sense Vistani…this makes it very difficult to find it.”

“What of the Mists,” Monsette said intently.

“That subject is not to be discussed,” Madame Eva hissed.

“Why not,” Monsette demanded. “It is the Mists that brought us here and they can get us home. I want to know what is going on right now! We were brought here and soon thereafter cursed by a ghost…I want to know how to fix these this!”

Calmly allowing the angry investigator to vent, Madame Eva simply watched him from across the fire.

“The Mists brought you here…for what purpose I do not know. The curse is your fault. You wished to save Raul against his wife…noble, but foolish. I have a proposition: find the Dukkar and you will be rewarded. If you don’t like what I offer that is your own problem,” Madame Eva intoned calmly.

“I am through with your riddles and your games,” Monsette screamed. “Find this thing yourself for all I care!”

Bolting up, Monsette began to stomp away from the camp. Vanyel and the others were soon upon him inquiring what had just happened. Both Shinlaiden and Sam did not have a good grasp on the language yet, so the events had to be explained to them…the facts did not please Sam.

“You did WHAT?!” Sam was enraged beyond the belief. “That was the only chance we had to get home and you THREW IT AWAY! You FOOL! I can’t believe that they put you anywhere near the concept of responsibility back in Nymbardax.”

“Be careful Sam, I am still your commanding officer out here,” Monsette warned.

“Oh yes sir, how could I forget? May I polish your boots sir? I am at your command. Can I fetch your pipe?” Sam’s voice dripped of sarcasm.

Both men then stalked off in opposite directions…Vanyel went after Monsette and Shinlaiden went after Sam.

“Hold on Monsette,” Vanyel called.

Stopping a few paces away, Monsette began to fervently stuff tobacco in his pipe.

“That IMBECILE,” Monsette yelled.

“He is just high-strung…you have to apologize to him to fix things.”

“I will do NO SUCH THING!”

“Come…let’s talk about it back at the Inn,” Vanyel spoke softly.

The two walked back towards the town, discussing how to reign their subordinates under control. Monsette still wanted Sam back but only if he knew his place. Vanyel attempted to explain that the environment was eating away at everyone…himself included. Monsette still wasn’t convinced, but he listened nonetheless. Back at the Inn both men engaged in a long debate on authority and the rights it had. Monsette believed his power was absolute when men were entrusted to his command. Vanyel, on the other hand, tended to think of Shinlaiden as man like any other…but he still agreed that it was better to keep the strong warrior under control…he had seen what the man was capable of in a fight.

Monsette was just about finished relaying the finer points of etiquette to Vanyel when his discussion was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. Looking up, he saw the bloodied body of Sam lying near the window. Screaming erupted from all corners of the common room as people dashed out the door. Monsette followed suit to intercept whatever had done this to Sam when he noticed a man out of the corner of his eye. It is him…Gunter Edel! Not now! Monsette cursed as he saw his target being carried off by the crowd. Not stopping to indicate his plans to Vanyel, Monsette rushed after him. Forcing his way through the throng of people, Monsette followed Gunter Edel into an alley next to the Inn. Rounding the corner, Monsette came upon his worst fear: Gunter Edel was face to face with the monster that had thrown Sam through the window. The creature was over seven feet tall with jet-black fur. It was cross between a man and a panther; it’s eyes glowed a malevolent green. Rushing up to the monster and throwing Gunter aside, Monsette slashed into it with his sword. The were-panther brought its forearm up to block the attack…the sword bit through bone and sinew, stopping halfway through the appendage. The monster merely roared with stronger ferocity. Backing away in fear, Monsette watched as the creature slowly approached him with a look of hatred in its eyes. Fumbling with divine power, the priest of Viminau attempted to freeze the creature in place with enchantments…it did not work. Monsette was saved by the sounds of the local Guard and the sight of many lit torches. The creature, sensing danger, ripped the sword from its arm and leaped to the roof of the nearest building. As the guards poured into the alley, Monsette began to give them instructions on how to defeat the creature while simultaneously retrieving the unconscious form of Gunter Edel.

Dashing back into the Inn, Monsette lay Gunter Edel next to the bloodied form of Sam. With little to no success in rejuvenating Sam (courtesy of the curse cast by Leyla), Monsette asked the guards to fetch for a local healer. While the local herbalist was retrieved, Monsette and Vanyel worked to rekindle Gunter Edel’s dying flame. Apparently the shock had been too much for his frail heart to handle. The old man had stopped breathing and only through the combined divine efforts of Vanyel and Monsette did he begin to breathe again. The healer did come in time to patch up Sam’s mutilated body. With a few words to the guards, Vanyel and Monsette called that a night…well they went to their rooms armed to the teeth anyway.

__________
October 23, 747

Shinlaiden awoke with a start. He didn’t remember what happened…one minute he was talking to Sam and the next minute he was here. Where am I? Looking around, the great warrior found himself near stream in a heavily wooded area. This still must be Vulpwood. Searching the area thoroughly, Shinlaiden found no trace of Sam anywhere. His clothes were shredded, his sword belt torn, and his boots were in pieces. Not understanding what had happened, Shinlaiden set out for Karina. It was a long walk without footwear, but eventually he managed to haul himself back to the Inn. The guards gave him reproachful glances, but this was a festival after all!

Upon arrival Monsette began the questioning with Vanyel’s help. Shinlaiden tried to answer the questions as best he could, but he simply didn’t remember anything. He did remember going after Sam and talking with him. While they talked, he remembered feeling rather hot…odd since it was late fall. His memories ended there. Taking the warrior upstairs, Vanyel began to berate him in the presence of the unconscious Sam and Gunter.

“You will never go off without my permission again,” Vanyel ordered. “You are under my command, do you understand?!”

Shinlaiden nodded sheepishly. With his head bowed, Monsette noticed something that he hadn’t noticed before…it seemed as though there was a needle prick at the base of his neck. It was too centered to be haphazard. Even the best shot in the world wouldn’t be able to land it in that spot.

“I would say that you were the were-creature that attacked us last night Shinlaiden if it weren’t for the fact that yesterday say a new moon, not a full moon,” Monsette remarked.

“His illness might not be normal lycanthropy…his might be a different infection,” Vanyel observed.

The two went on about any strange occurrences they had noticed with respect to Shinlaiden for some time, completely oblivious of the man’s presence. After some time, the two decided to wake up Gunter Edel for some questioning. The answers they received were troubling at best. It seemed that the old man neither remembered where he was or his name. When asked, he even managed to get the year wrong. Vanyel was convinced that he was lying and was about to use more extreme methods of magical interrogation had not Monsette stepped in with a more gentle hand. Monsette was not being charitable in any way; he was simply convinced that Gunter was the shapeshifting creature that had nearly killed them back in Valetta! It took some more questioning before both men came to the conclusion that Gunter’s memory had been erased somehow…but most likely it was the doing of the evil force working against them or what Monsette classified as “the Bad Guys.” Just to make sure, the men waited for Gunter’s traveling companion Carl to see if he could corroborate Gunter’s facts. The men waited all day, but Carl never came back to check up on his friend…

__________
October 24, 747

Monsette spent the day accomplishing many errands while Vanyel and Shinlaiden waited back in the Inn. His first order of duty was to hire a local blacksmith to make huge chains and a lock to secure Shinlaiden should the desire to become a beast overtake him in the future. His next stop was in the city prison to talk with the Lieutenant of the city guards. He explained about the “hit-list” his party had found and left his contact information with the man should anything come up as it pertained to the investigation he was conducting. Finally, using a messenger service, Monsette drafted a long letter to Gunter’s daughter explaining exactly what had happened. The rest of the day was spent feeding Sam through the corner of his mouth.

__________
October 25, 747

Monsette jolted awake with the sound he had so desperately been waiting to hear:

“Ow,” Sam whispered.

Everyone was awake in seconds, mostly through the efforts Monsette made in kicking everyone as hard as he could.

“I really am sorry,” Shinlaiden murmured.

“It’s not your fault. I tried to warn you about the monster, but you feinted before I could speak out.”

“So you definitely saw both Shinlaiden and the were-creature at the same time,” Monsette asked pensively.

“Yes…I am sure of it,” Sam replied in a hoarse whisper.

Leaving Sam in locked room, Monsette and Vanyel went to investigate the area Shinlaiden claimed to have passed out in while talking to Sam. It did take a while, but eventually their efforts were rewarded. The patch of land was much as to be expected: the floor of a forest, littered with dead leaves. However, a few hours of inspection revealed a small pile of blackened herbs. Vanyel suggested that the herbs were used to cast a spell, but that theory was quickly discarded within minutes of examination. Placing a small sample into a pouch, Monsette headed for the Vistani camp to set up a meeting. Marsella and Vincenzo greeted him even before he reached the edge of the circle of wagons. It was decided that within one hour the meeting would take place on neutral ground, so that no one would gain an advantage. Monsette was elected to do the bargaining even with his tarnished record with the Vistani.

The meeting did proceed as planned. Madame Eva, Marsella, and Vincenzo met Monsette, Vanyel, and Shinlaiden at the edge of Vulpwood. There it was agreed that both sides gained with the following arrangements:

For the Giorgio: 1) information on were-creatures (enough to cure the infected Shinlaiden), 2) removal of the curse, and 3) a way home (at this point Monsette didn’t care about knowledge on the Mists themselves).

For the Vistani: the party would determine the location of the Dukkar and immobilize it with a special item the Vistani would create for the party. The party’s task was to find the Dukkar and throw the object at it…their contract ended there.

While they deciphered the location of the Dukkar, the Vistani would begin the creation of the object in question with the help of Raul.

“Where do we start to look,” Monsette asked.

“Look for a man called Scar in the Maze of Karina…or if you prefer, go to the “Dog Fights” your friend Captain Timothy generously invited you to,” the last words were uttered with a knowing smile by Madame Eva.

Monsette only had time to stand dumbfounded as the Vistani melted back into the forest…

 

[SolidSnake]

Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 2- “Third time is a charm…or is that fourth?”

The adventurers stumbled into Hommlet late in the evening. Everyone was extremely weary from the battle and the ensuing march back from the Moathouse. Strider didn’t even bother to wave goodbye as Merk trudged towards her favorite tree…well it was a place to sleep anyway, as she was banned from the Inn. While the strange elf climbed through the foliage of the great elm, her companions were greeted at the Inn with a warm plate of cookies. Vesta, the compassionate woman who took care of the Inn in her father’s absence, had been thoughtful enough to leave a plate of cookies and three glasses of milk. Chatrilon and Eblis wasted no time digging in, while Strider wrote a note to Vesta to thank her for the amazing generosity she had shown them.
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Though the branches were a bit uncomfortable, Merk had suffered worse. Her dreams were of slaying the Ogres that had constantly plagued her life. Well she was pretty sure she was dreaming, but what did smoke have to do with killing Ogres? Looking down from her perch in the trees, Merk was greeted by the sight of blazing wood. Coming to her senses, Merk realized that there was no way to actually climb down the elm without burning to death so she decided to take a gamble and jump. The ground rushed up to meet her faster than she expected and the breath was blasted from her lungs. Bleary-eyed, Merk struggled to her feet...standing directly in front of her was a heavily armored human man with a serrated bastard sword in his hands. The light from the fire poorly illuminated the man’s features, but the wicked scar on his face was obvious even in the darkness. Not even bothering to wait for Merk to get her balance, the man attacked! His sword strokes were brutal and fast, catching Merk off guard. Eventually Merk’s feeble attempts at defense were futile as the man was able to nearly fell her in a single blow. At that point, Merk chose the better part of valor and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Merk to an arrow in the back before she reached the nearest patrol. Gasping, she relayed what had just happened to the members of the militia before slinking away in the shadows…eventually making her way to the Town Hall. As she hid underneath the great oaken table in the center of the Hall, she heard Elmo’s familiar voice call out:

“I knew I would find you here. Get out from under there for Pelor’s sake and let me have a look at you.”

Elmo was a battle-hardened warrior, unused to the subtlety of healing which was why Merk screamed out in horror and pain when he yanked the arrow out of her back. Once she had gotten her breath back, Elmo grilled her for information about why the tree she was sleeping in was currently on fire…among other things. Merk did her best to relay as many details as possible, but for some reason Elmo did not seem satisfied with what he heard.

“Wait here Merk, I think it is time we discussed what is really happening here.”

“Does this have something to do with the Moathouse,” Merk asked excitedly. She hoped that Elmo would slip up and reveal some secret to her.

“This is more important than the Moathouse,” Elmo said as he left the Town Hall.

Within a few minutes, the party was assembled at the Town Hall…or at least most of it anyway, as Eblis did not answer the summons. The elusive Rufus and Burne were also present, as well as Yether. The High Priest tended to Merk’s wounds as Rufus spoke to the party. He seemed to a man in his middle years, but still endowed with the strength his warrior’s history had provided him.

Rufus: “You may be wondering why it is that I am here with all the difficulties you had faced in trying to attract my attentions previously. I am here because I am sure of who you are. I was curious as to your objectives at first…many people come through Hommlet…good and bad. It may have seemed harsh to send you against that dragon alone, but I had to know for sure. Let me say without hesitation that I am truly impressed with your courage and virtues.”

Strider: “Could you tell us why we are here? Why did Mordenkainen summon us here?”

Rufus: “I do not pretend to know the his agendas, but you are most definitely here out of coincidence. For many years, Burne and I have kept our eyes on the Temple…we never doubted that somehow evil would find its way here. Thus far nothing substantial has happened, but recently divination magic has been all but impossible in that area. Burne informs me that magic beyond his understanding is shielding his attempts. Anything could be happening at this very moment…my worst fear is that whatever force is blocking our scrying is also amassing an army of considerable strength in order to attack Hommlet itself. This is where we need your help. As we need to send many able-bodied men to collect accurate intelligence on the Temple, we cannot go ourselves without putting the town in jeopardy. I am asking you men to go and investigate what is happening.”

Lathandar: “We found this on one of the dead bodies at the Moathouse,” he said as he tossed the holy symbol on the table.

Yether gently picked it up and turned it over in his hands. The priest made no attempt to mask his disgust.

Yether: “This is the symbol of Tharizdun, a dark and evil god. Not much is known of him, but the obex is his symbol,” the man spat.

Strider: “Before we do anything, I want to make sure that the Moathouse is completely safe…it is too close to Hommlet for us simply to ignore it.”

Rufus: “Good. Then it is settled,” he said with a smile.

Merk: “The old adventuring party that defeated the Moathouse before told me of a secret passageway. Do you know if it,” the elf asked.

Elmo: “I have map from the old days. It tells you how to get in through the back,” the grizzled warrior said as he tossed a rolled up piece of parchment onto the table.

Rufus: “I will help you in anyway I can. Don’t hesitate to call on me, my Keep is always open to you. Also, I would like to give you a tour of Hommlet tomorrow morning. I think you might appreciate the town more if you knew the fine people in it.”

Everyone thanked Rufus and the silent Burne for their time before going to bed. Merk was instructed by Elmo to stay at the Inn. When she dissented, he informed her that he had asked Vesta to allow her back as a personal favor. Merk was thrilled at spending the night in a warm bed for once and so she resolved to be on her best behavior around Vesta at all times.
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The next morning Merk was pure sunshine. She didn’t stop complimenting Vesta until the Innkeeper had to tell her to stop outright. While Merk made her peace with Vesta, Strider brooded over the strange disappearance of Eblis with Bandar. Everyone in the group had pegged Eblis as loner, but it was still troubling for Strider not to have extra help in clearing out the lower levels of the Moathouse. Strider was rousted from his thoughts by the sound of dwarven yelling. Rushing outside, he was overjoyed to find Aramek “talking” to one of the town guards. The dwarf had changed. Instead of the leather armor he had been sporting in the past, Aramek was encased in black scale armor and a draconian helmet to boot. A large steel shield was strapped to his back and a warhammer hung from a hoop on his belt. The dwarf did not seem to notice Strider’s amazement as he walked up to him. After each man had exchanged ample stories on what had happened during the time they were away, both men went inside to get some breakfast.

During breakfast, Aramek expounded on the stories of how he slew a dragon in the ancient Dwarven Keep a few days from Blasingdell. Everyone listened on with fascination until Rufus and his personal guard showed up to escort the party through Hommlet. Aramek grumbled a bit about being interrupted, but he tagged along anyway. Hommlet was filled with many great places and people: a temple to St. Cuthbert, a temple to Elhonna, a temple to Pelor, tailors, weavers, a general store, a bakery, blacksmiths, a milk market, potters, stables, a scribe, a sage, a brewery, stonemasons, a wagon repair shop, and a man who sold potions.

After the tour, the party went around town unloading some of the treasure it had got from the top level of the Moathouse. The first thing to go was the stone mask, found on a dead priest. Joman Dart, the halfling that ran the Old Trading Post bought it off the party for nearly half it’s assessed value. The wily trader did however agree to begin a Life Insurance policy on for of the party members for up to a month for free if they sold him the strange mask. The party agreed to the conditions and decided to give the contracts to Lathender, Bandar, Strider, and Merk. Aramek refused to allow “a stinkin’ halfin” to bury him. The party also contracted Alphon, the local blacksmith (a halfling much to Aramek’s chagrin), to construct some armor for Lathander as he was unable to recover his after the battle with the dragon. The next few days were spent in complete relaxation as the party waited for the armor to be made. The short vacation started off well enough, but by the second day reality sank in.

One of the local militiamen informed Strider that they had discovered the bodies of the Miller and his family at the bottom of the river. Preliminary observation indicated that they had been strangled and then sunk to the bottom of the river with large stones. Redithidor’s body had also been found. His corpse had been found suspended in the basement of the Mill; his body was brutally beaten and the throat had been slashed. A note had been discovered that was addressed to Strider personally, stuffed at the bottom of Redithidor’s boot. It was crumpled and smeared with blood making it extremely difficult to read; however Strider was able to catch a few phrases:

Strider,
You were right…Master Dunrat…to Naquint…wagon in nearby village of Rastor can be obtained from Tal Chamish…evil is inside the Crater…

Strider looked at the parchment for quite some time before going upstairs. He did not emerge until the group had made all the necessary preparations for the Moathouse. Before leaving Hommlet, Strider nailed a letter he had written the night before to the door of the Town Hall. The message was simple: when he found the people who had harmed the Miller’s family and Redithidor Halfmoon…well, needless to say that it wasn’t very pleasant.
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The trip to the Moathouse was done in a constant phase of paranoia. Everyone in the party was asked to watch the skies for any blue dragons. Luckily, none engaged the group. Merk had no trouble locating the secret entrance to the Moathouse Elmo had outlined in his map. It was a quarter mile east of the structure, hidden in the midst of large boulders. The party knew that they had reached the Moathouse when the earthen tunnel finally gave way to worked stone. It wasn’t long before the party stumbled into a fight with a pair of Cockatrices. Unfortunately, no one really knew just what they were up against until Strider’s heroic swordplay was cut short when he was transformed into stone [DM Note: Strider had made three consecutive saves in a row; then the guy playing him opened his big mouth…it never fails]. At this point the party gave the mythical beasts the respect they deserved by dispatching them with extreme prejudice. As soon as the last Cockatrice fell, Strider’s body was rushed out the secret entrance and back to Hommlet.

Lathander first petitioned Yether for help with the matter, but the Priest of Pelor said it was beyond his power to repair the calamity.

“The only person who can heal your friend Strider is Canoness Y’dey, the High Priestess of St. Cuthbert here in Hommlet.”

Lathander rejoiced at the wonderful news…until he actually met the priestess in person. Canoness Y’dey was the quintessence of St. Cuthbert’s dogma: meticulous, exact, merciless, levelheaded, and strong. This was not the woman Lathander expected to receive him.

“My friend is in dire need of your strengths High Priestess. Only you can save him from the curse put upon him,” Lathender said expectantly.

Canoness: “I see Cleric of Pelor. Are you familiar with the faith of St. Cuthbert?”

Lathander: “Yes, a bit. Why?” Lathander was thoroughly confused at this point.

Canoness: “Then you would know that your pleas of good and righteousness have little effect upon me. Everyone is responsible for earning their own way in life, gifts are a method of weakening the spirit.”

Lathander: “I completely agree High Priestess…perhaps I could undertake a quest that would benefit St. Cuthbert-”

Canoness: “Don’t bother with that, a donation to the church would be enough.”

Lathander: “I see…and how much would this ‘donation’ be?” Lathander spoke through clenched teeth, unaccustomed to such callousness from anyone.

700 pieces of gold later, Strider was returned to them. Thanking the party profusely for the sacrifices they had made in returning him to life, he pledged to return all the money they had spent on him. Before everyone called it a day, Bandar drafted a letter to Rufus describing the day’s events.
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The walk back to the Moathouse was a little more somber than the first trip. No one cherished the idea of defeat…but twice in a row was too much! The area where the party had fought the Cockatrices provided little in the way of evil creatures…in fact they were the only things in that area. Hours of searching revealed a bit of treasure, a skeleton donning Lloth’s medallion, and a hallway with a dead end. Frustrated, the group ascended to the surface and worked their way back through Moathouse’s main entrance. A Grick guarded the entrance to the Moathouse dungeon, but was quickly destroyed by Strider and Aramek. Merk’s unique knowledge of the structure allowed the group to navigate rather quickly through the dungeon. Sure, there were a few undead creatures roving around, but Lathander took care of that problem quite easily. In fact, the only living person they did encounter was a man by the name of Spugnoir. He claimed to be member of the Hommlet community, but Strider refused to trust him. Strider found his story to be completely fabricated. Why would anyone want to take on that dragon alone?! And why is it that if he was hiding none of the evil priests he described found him yet and we have within a few minutes of entering the Moathouse? Aramek managed to quell Strider’s paranoia, enabling Spugnoir to go free.

From there on out it was pretty simple: move into a room, blast the undead out of existence with Lathander’s divine might, and then wait while Lathander prayed for the souls of the vanquished in the very room he had cleansed. Everyone was pretty disappointed that no priests inhabited the dungeon. The only things of interest were a small pool in a room with used mining gear surrounding it and what Merk called the “Maze.” It was series of tunnels that seemed lead in every direction…Merk cautioned against going in there, lest the party become lost. Aramek’s thoughts pretty much summed up the party’s feelings:

“This is wat I came duwn fer? Skeletons and no treasure? This was fun…thanks fer inviting me along with yers,” Aramek said sacastically.
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Back in the Inn of the Welcome Wench, the party was brooding. Lathander had decided to eat dinner with the party for once so that they could discuss their next move. The merriment around them did little to spark happiness in anyone. There were many concerns that needed to be addressed.

Merk: “Well, I think we should prioritize what needs doing first. First, we need to figure out what happened to Eblis. Second, we should be on the lookout for the man who attacked me. Third, we should try to figure out where the priests went.”

Strider: “Vesta said that she moved Eblis’ things to my room as he hasn’t paid for a few days now. The militia doesn’t know where he went either…he just vanished. His sword is gone, but the rest of his gear is here.”

Lathander: “I don’t know about this Eblis fellow, but the main concern should be with the Priests of Tharizdun.”

The conversation went on like this for quite sometime…everyone claiming different priorities over one another until Aramek put a stop to all the bickering.

“Listen you bunch of jackarses! Well go to bloody Nulb and that’s the end of it! Merk said it’s a seedy town filled with cutthroats…well that would be the perfect place to find ‘em! Now shut yer traps before I shut ‘em fer yah!”

With that, Aramek got up and stomped to his room. The Inn had gone silent; all the patrons tried not to stare at the party’s table. Everyone agreed that the dwarf made strong arguments for his case…that or everyone was too embarrassed to continue talking in the Inn’s common room.

While the rest of her companions went to sleep, Merk decided to visit Rufus before calling it a night. It was fairly easy to gain access to the Keep now and even easier to find the old adventurer. He was in the main courtyard tending to his roses.

“Nice roses,” Merk said pleasantly.

“I take it you aren’t here for the roses,” Rufus replied.

“No, not really. I wanted to ask you about Nulb and about any news you had.”

“Nulb is a dangerous place. Be wary of anyone and anything there. Agents of the Temple are usually stationed there at all times, so try not to give anything about yourself away. Speaking of bad news, it seems that Iuz has made his move against Furyondy. King Belvor IV cannot spare any men for my suspicions. His advisor; however, informed me he would pass the word along to all able adventurers willing to come to Hommlet,” Rufus said with a sigh.

“Thank you for your time Rufus,” Merk said sincerely.

As she was leaving, Rufus called out to her from his garden.

“There isn’t much time left…something is happening…find out what is going on quickly.”

 

[SolidSnake]

Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Session 3: A stranger in Nulb
(Or: “Nulb sucks more than last time!”)

The party left the nice town of Hommlet the following morning, heading for the ill-reputed den of cutthroats known as Nulb. They left Eblis’ gear behind in case he returned – he had not checked out of his room, nor told anyone where he was going. The group had no more time to wait, so Merk asked Elmo to look out for the quiet warrior.

The path through the woods to Nulb took three days and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Merk had plenty of time to tell the party as many stories as she remembered about the miserable village from the adventurers she had known who had stayed there.

“Everybody in Nulb is a low-life, an agent of the Temple, or both. Don’t trust anyone, and stick together. The last group got into fights constantly by just being in town and walking around. We’ll have to stay at the dump of a tavern there, but let’s not stay long. Oh, and Rufus said that we should be on the lookout for the priests from the Moathouse, because they probably fled here.”

After the journey the group approached Nulb cautiously, but there was little to see. The place was an abandoned wreck. Those rotten huts that hadn’t collapsed were in complete disrepair, and it was clear that nobody had lived here for some time. Nobody was more surprised than Merk – where had everyone gone? “Aye, lass, there’s nubuddy here!” Aramek growled, annoyed that another reputed haunt of evil was abandoned.

Just then Strider spotted a huge man’s body in front of the run-down building with a faded sign reading: “Waterside Hostel.” The group hushed and cautiously approached. The man’s head had exploded, but the only evidence of what had happened was horse tracks around his body. Inside was a bunch of broken tables covered in dust – nobody had been inside for some time. On the alert, the party drew together; Merk and Strider snuck inside. [Player’s advice: Never enter an Inn with a freshly dead body out front without determining the cause of death.]

Merk headed for the stairs as Strider ventured out into the clutter of tables and chairs, and the rest of the group watched from the doorway. Suddenly, a translucent, decaying creature materialized behind Strider and stashed at his back with a glowing sword. Only the surprised warrior’s armor saved him from a deadly hit. Just seeing the horrible undead spirit weakened Merk and Lathander, but the other’s resisted its powerful evil aura. Shaking from hatred, fear, and new weakness, Lathander stepped forward, holding out his holy symbol of Pelor. Screaming “The sun of Pelor is upon you!,” Lathander willed forth incredible holy power that shone out of his sunburst medallion. The ghost vaporized before Pelor’s rays, ending the battle before it had truly begun.

The whole group was still tensed from the fear and surprise of the undead’s appearance, but the dwarves soon recovered. Bandar and Aramek clapped Lathander on the side and said “Good job” in gruff voices as they walked in. Strider thanked the shaking cleric somberly, knowing that Lathander might have just saved his life. Merk didn’t thank the good cleric, and instead stumbled over towards the group, as white as a sheet (even for an elf). The ghost’s mere presence had stolen her vitality [-2 Str/Dex/Con] – the sense overwhelmed her, and she was violently sick. Strider tried to comfort her, and offered the undead’s weapon to her with the rest of the group’s support. So weak, she took Strider’s magical rapier instead, insisting he take the sword.

Someone heard a sound coming from upstairs, and the party was on guard again. The group snuck up the creaky stairs and found all the rooms abandoned except for one at the end of the hallway. The door to the room was closed, muffling the sounds of wind and occasional thumps from within. Strider signaled for everyone to wait while he went downstairs and outside to climb up to the window of the room and see what was going on. While the party fingered their weapons and strained to hear, Strider climbed onto the roof and swung down, crashing through the window and into the bedroom. He was taken aback by what he found.

The furniture of the room flew around in a whirlwind, smashing into everything except for the room’s young woman occupant, who held her face in her hands and was moaning. Before Strider could ask what was going on, a lamp knocked the breath out of him. As he recovered, the woman approached him and clawed at his face, somehow magically stuffing her hand in his head and causing him excruciating pain and loss [-3 Wisdom; our DM is suddenly big into irrevocably reducing PC ability scores].

With Strider’s audible howl of pain, the rest of the group moved into action. Bandar smashed down the door, and the others poured in, caught off guard by the peculiar scene and clipped by flying objects. Lathander quickly surmised what was happening and tried using his holy power again, but the creature remained unfazed. The group attacked the monster and managed to fend off her terrible ethereal hands, but only enraged Strider managed to score any solid hits, each making it less substantial. The creature began screaming, which magically immobilized Bandar and Lathander. Between hits by swirling furniture and avoiding its claws, Strider managed to dissipate the undead with his magical weapons. The whirlwind stopped, everything fell to the ground, and the party breathed a sigh of relief. Even without people, Nulb was a miserable place!

Lathander purified the building with a lengthy prayer to Pelor while the group rested. Merk examined the body outside the Inn and found some peculiar leather loops on the back of his clothing, and recognition dawned on her face. She said to Strider “This was Gatz, a powerful and ruthless mercenary I knew. Couldn’t tell who he was with his head gone, but this long sheath gives him away.” Strider looked curiously at the ‘sheath’ she spoke of – it must’ve been for an eight-foot sword! “I’ve never heard of a weapon that big!” he exclaimed. “Only a man like Gatz could wield it” Merk said, adding “Wonder where it is now?”

The party was not anxious to venture in any other buildings in dangerous Nulb, but they looked around the abandoned village some more. In a shop with a faded sign reading “Herbs” Strider found a hideous man sitting, looking at them with his good eye, because his other was lost amidst pulpy pink mass of flesh that was the rest of his face. He held a staff with a crystal sphere on top, and looked at Strider in a strange manner.

Taken aback, Strider asked for the man’s name, to which he replied “I am Tianden.” A short conversation revealed that the man was just sitting there, watching things, not doing much, and not very willing to reveal anything else. He was continuously lost in thought, gazing beyond Strider at the wall of the former herbshop. Strider was curious about the stranger who seemed so out of place, and pressed him with questions, introducing the rest of his group.

Merk took one look at Tianden and crept out of sight. The others might want to chit-chat with this stranger, but she knew better. Someone who was sitting around in an abandoned town, doing nothing, within a few miles of the Temple? Rufus had warned her about the Moathouse priests and Temple agents in Nulb, and this doubtless was one of them. Were the others too naïve to realize how suspicious this situation was?

Strider took extra care not to stare at Tianden’s face as he introduced the rest of the part. Tianden’s smile noticeably widened when Strider landed on Lathander’s name. Aramek visibly tensed at this reaction, but his agitation subsided slowly when Tianden offered the group a seat at his table. As there was only one chair in the room, the strange man offered to get more so that everyone could sit at the table. Strider waved the offer away, worried that Tianden shouldn’t have to inconvenience himself. Once everyone was seated, Strider began to warn Tianden of the dangers of Nulb.

Strider: “You should be careful Tianden, there are evil creatures about. Especially at the local tavern…I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”
Tianden: “Thank you for your concern Strider, I will not venture there. What brings your group to Nulb?”
Strider: “It is so good to finally meet someone reasonable after our long trek. We are looking for priests.”
Tianden: “Priests? I have seen a few about while I was here. They are not here any longer I am afraid. They have probably left for the Temple by now.”
Strider: “Really? That’s fantastic. You have been most helpful Tianden. Would I be too forward if I asked you to join our group for lunch…it is noon anyways.”

At that moment Aramek began to cough uncontrollably. Once his fit had subsided he began to grumble something about the dust in the air. Tianden’s expression was one of utter shock. Quickly regaining his composure, the man heartily agreed to the offer. During lunch, Lathander took over most of the conversation with talk of theology.

Lathander: “I believe in Pelor’s overarching plan for human goodness. What tenants do you believe in Tianden?”
Tianden: “Well, I haven’t had a chance to brush up on Pelor’s dogma in quite some time.”
Lathander: “You were a student of Pelor?” Lathander spoke with excitement, hoping to find a kindred spirit in his quest against evil.
Tianden: “Me? No, no…I simply met a priest of Pelor once. He was in a party of adventurers at the time, much like the situation we are faced with now. He was very militant, but I didn’t mind him so much as the priestess of St. Cuthbert.”
Lathander: “You have had problems with them too?! It seems as though their teachings are too strict…I think they lack the desire to help those in need. A priestess of St. Cuthbert I know was more interested in the letter of the law than its spirit.”
Tianden: “They are uncompromising aren’t they? Yes…the priestess I remember was most…disagreeable.” The man’s eyes seemed to wander with the last statement.
----------------------
The elf slid around back, checking in windows, and her suspicions were soon confirmed when she found Tianden’s room. Inside was a bed, a trunk, a chest, a suit of menacing plate armor, a shield with Tharazdun’s eye emblazoned on it, and Gatz’s sword leaned against the wall. Here we have Gatz’s killer… and the former leader of the Moathouse? She slid up the window, making only a little noise, and slipped into the bedroom.
----------------------
As quickly as Tianden’s focus was lost, it was reinvigorated. With a slight tilt of his head towards the door to the rear of the room, Tiaden shifted the gears of the discussion.

Tianden: “Let’s say in a hypothetical scenario that one man owns a castle. Let is also assume that this same man doesn’t want trespassers on his property. What if someone were to invade his castle in the name of good? These men kill all his…retainers and drive him from the very place he had created. Do you think this is right?

Lathender: “Absolutely not! No man can claim to do good by taking what is another’s. It is wrong! Utterly wrong!”

Strider: “I also agree. I man’s home is his own.”

Tianden: “I’m glad to see some reasonable people left in the world today. You are all fine men. Lathander your beauty is only surpassed by your oratory prowess.” Tianden seemed very pleased, indicated by twisted smile.
----------------------
Merk found the door locked and breathed a sigh of relief – she could probably get out before Tianden could charge back here. Unfortunately, she found nothing of note in his trunk, and did not have lockpicks for opening his smaller chest. The chest, Gatz’s sword, and everything else of note was too heavy or too noisy to take out. Merk contented herself with cutting all the fastenings to Tianden’s armor, so it would fall apart upon donning it. She crept out, waiting to hear sounds of battle.
----------------------
Lathander: “I can’t remember the last time I had such an interesting discussion. Thank you so much for joining us.”

Tianden: “No…thank you for joining me. Take care on your way to the Temple.”

Everyone had gotten up and was headed towards the door…Aramek moving quicker than some suspected was possible. The last person out was Bander. He was about to cross the threshold of the doorway, when he heard Tianden’s voice call out.

“That mark on the back of your neck, where did you get it,” Tianden said fervently. The man was referring the tattoo the taciturn dwarf had on the back of his neck. It was a picture of a red hand on a white background.

Bandar: “I don’t know. It was there ever since I can remember.”

Tianden: “I remember that mark. He had it on his sword.” At this point, it became unclear if Tianden was talking with the group anymore. “I would have won! The battle was mine for the taking! But then that stupid little half-elf interfered and cost me the fight!”

Strider: “I am not sure what you are talking about…” Strider spoke very carefully.

Tianden’s voice seemed to rise in anger and the grip he had on Bandar’s shoulder only strengthened.

“Didn’t I invite you into my home?! Didn’t we eat together?! If one man from the party commits a wrong, the ENTIRE party is responsible! I am talking about that elf STRIDER!”

Strider: “I don’t understand…did Merk do something?”

Tianden: “Yes…her. She broke into my room. You know what? It doesn’t really matter all that much anymore. I am glad we are friends.”

The transformation was terrifying to behold. One instant he was on the verge of murder and the next Tianden was as cold as ice. Bandar eased himself from the man’s grip as Strider promised to discipline Merk if as soon as he found her.

The party left Nulb toward the Temple at a brisk walk, putting distance between themselves and the crazed Tianden. Merk had circled Nulb and waited on the outskirts, whistling as she leaned against a tree.

 

[Rune]

The Horror! The Horror!

Hey, SolidSnake! It's great to see the return of some truly wonderful campaign logs! I look forward to reading more!

 

[SolidSnake]

Re: The Horror! The Horror!

Hey, SolidSnake! It's great to see the return of some truly wonderful campaign logs! I look forward to reading more!

Good to see that you have completed the move over here aswell! The next log is seriously becoming its own thread...that will teach me to do too many things in a single session! No, but seriously, it shouldn't be long until the novel/post is completed I look forward to your game, but you haven't posted all of your stuff yet...I'll just have to wait until your new installment is complete. Good stuff coming up though, so keep reading!