Darklone said:
Stories like these make me think about looking around for some girl to marry
You should try it sometime. I love being married and I'm not just saying that because I want you to be miserable too.
How about a Story Hour update instead? They say it's the next best thing to getting married:
Westward Into Danger (Or “Can I Have Fries Instead of a Salad?”) continued...
The group remained mostly quiet but they made good progress. Thanks to a few magical
Mounts provided by Lazarius, they moved considerably faster than they would have on foot. Thus, as the autumn sky began to grow dark, the group spotted the silhouette of the crenellated turret of the abandoned “Wizard’s Tower” jutting above the treetops ahead. A few minutes later they passed by the tower.
It appeared that it was no longer abandoned as they could see light coming from a few of the narrow windows of the upper floor. Speaks wondered who had taken up residence there but now was no time for a social call as the night fell around them. They pushed on in the dark and quickly found themselves at the eastern gate of Aquae Sulis.
The Glynden guardsmen who manned the gate recognized Speaks and Lazarius and admitted them to the town without question, though they did balk somewhat at the sight of the giant mountain lion that strode at Speaks’ side. The group moved quickly through the sparsely populated town as it huddled, tiny and neglected among its ruined walls. As they went, they could hear a bit of noise coming from the direction of the gate that led to the mines. Whatever was going on there would have to wait as the group sought shelter from the cold night of the Northlands.
Clearly the guardsmen must have been passing their spare time by doing some repairs on the walls and reinforcing the palisades installed by the former, gnollish, occupants. But most of the buildings remained burned out husks with few having intact roofs. Some bore timbers more recently scorched than others thanks to the various
Flaming Spheres unleashed by Speaks on his previous visit here.
While the guards and miners had clearly lay tarps and some thatching over the roof beams of a few of the smaller buildings for their own accommodations, the party would have to make due with camping in the semi-enclosed corner of one of the larger buildings. The weather had started to take a turn for the worse with a cold mist turning into a light rain shower. The remaining boards of a loft in one corner of the old store they occupied would not serve as a decent shelter for long but the group only planned to stay the one night.
Looking for some diversion from the increasingly nasty weather, the members of the party decided to see what was afoot over near the mines. They headed that way and saw that a sizable group was gathered near the smelting works located outside the entrance to the mine. Inside there seemed to be an argument brewing.
One piece of equipment that was housed inside the smelting works was that which pumped the mines clear of water. A large windlass behind the building was hitched to a pair of mules. The windlass turned a gear attached to a shaft that ran through the wall of the building where it turned another pair of gears that ran a series of buckets attached to a rope. These buckets pulled water up from a sump shaft and emptied it into a trough that carried the water out away from the building into a small swampy area nearby.
The trouble was that one of the large gears inside the building had shattered due to age and rot. There was apparently one faction among the miners who had urged the fabrication of a new set of gears, fearing (correctly it turned out) that the old ones wouldn’t last much longer. Instead, the opposition had won out, instead voting to just patch up the existing gears in the hopes of pulling more silver from the mines for the year instead of spending valuable time making new gears that might not be needed.
Boss Brathwaite stood amid those arguing and finally lost his cool and told those arguing to “SHUT UP!!!” He gathered the most skilled pair of carpenters from the crowd and asked them how long it would take to make a replacement for the shattered gear.
They looked appraisingly at each other before one replied, “Probably at least a couple of days.”
A young, red-haired man with a bushy beard yelled from the rest of the crowd, “The eastern shaft will be under water in a day! With the time it will take to remove all the timbers we’ve carried down there and move the ore carts, we’ll lose nearly a week’s work! I guess we can kiss goodbye the idea of sending one more wagon of silver south to Oar before the snows come.” A low grumble of agreement ran through the rest of the men. All of them knew that that would cut their earnings for the year by nearly a third, which sat well with none of them. The fact that all had been separated from their families for several weeks left them in a sour mood and this did nothing to improve it.
“All the more reason to quit your gripin’ and get to work on the new gear! Let’s get moving. Pontius, take your crew down and start making ready to move the equipment out of the eastern shaft if we need to. You others can take turns hauling buckets out of the sump shaft by hand. It’s going to be a long night so the less you bitch and moan the happier we’ll all be!”
The party exchanged glances but none could think of anything immediately helpful so they retired back to their meager abode for the evening. As the night wore on the light showers turned heavier and by morning there was a steady rain. Speaks rose early and walked outside the western town wall with Scipio to conduct his morning prayers in the woods. He returned an hour later and made his way back over to the smelting works.
He took a close look at the gear the men were trying to hastily fabricate, paying special attention to its various dimensions and the number of pegs around the perimeter. He walked off into the woods nearby and found some cut limbs left behind from the timbers cut by the miners to use for reinforcing the mine shafts. He began to hum a song and took the wood into his hands where it became pliant and easily workable. Before long he had fashioned a seamless gear and then spent a few more minutes carving a design on one face of it that strongly resembled the mask he often wore (rolled a 20 on his Craft: Sculpting check). He then rolled his new creation out onto the path between the town and mine and up to the door of the smelting works.
Knocking on the door, he drew the attention of Boss Brathwaite who didn’t appear to have slept the previous night. The halfling’s jaw hung open at the sight of the completed gear that also bore a fairly nice piece of art across one face. “Bless my soul. You’ve done us a good turn there, Speaks With Stone!” The carpenters came around to see what was going on and looked in astonishment at the Druid’s seamless work.
Speaks nearly blushed but held his emotions in check. “Well, I’ve got an interest in this mine too you know.” He referred to the one percent of the mine’s proceeds that he had been gifted for helping to liberate the town from the Gnolls and the mines from the Kobolds. He took a moment to wonder how Frakir was doing these days.
“Indeed you do. Well thank you just the same. Sonto, run in and fetch some of the boys so we can get this thing mounted and get the buckets moving again!” With that, Boss Brathwaite went back to work and Speaks returned to his companions who were already risen and ready to move west.
The weather was growing more miserable by the hour but nobody considered stopping. They were just glad it was rain and not snow that was falling. It was still a bit early in the season for snow but it certainly wasn’t unheard of to get several inches of it a few weeks early. If it were falling already when they were ready to ascend the Black Peaks, it would be a difficult journey.
By late afternoon it was already dark and the weather had gone from bad to worse as the darkness was occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning. The group stopped to make camp and immediately came to the understanding that their preparations for this journey had not included a shelter. “I thought about buying a tent,” Marcus said uselessly.
Lazarius came to the aid of the group by announcing boldly, “I’m damned if I’m sleeping in the rain. My spellbooks must stay dry.” With that he held aloft a piece of rope and spoke an incantation. The rope rose a short distance into the air and he climbed it before disappearing completely from view.
“Neat
Trick” said Marius. He grabbed the rope and tested it. It seemed to hold his weight even though it hung in midair with no visible means of support. He climbed up and found himself in a small room with Lazarius. There was no sign of the outside world, nor could he even hear the sound of the rain and lightning. “Where the hell are we?”
Lazarius’ grin was visible thanks to a golden glow that sprang from his palm. “Remind me to explain the nature of extra-planar spaces to you sometime. Right now I’m hungry and tired and wet. Speaking of which…” The wizard spoke a few magic words and began to wave his hands over his clothing. After a few moments he did the same to Marius who found that the water disappeared from his garments leaving them dry and fresh smelling. “You’re full of neat tricks, aren’t you.”
Lazarius did the same for Marcus as he clambered into the confines of the magical space they shared. Marcus was likewise pleased at being dry for the first time that day. “It seems that Speaks and Cathal will be spending the night out in the weather.”
Marius and Lazarius both raised an eyebrow at such an insane notion. But then again those two were more used to spending the night in the open than the three Imperials who now occupied the pocket realm that the wizard had conjured. “As they like,” said Lazarius, “I’m getting some grub and some sleep.”
Outside, Cathal looked at the rope with a cautious longing. He wished to remain dry as well but the idea of sleeping in close quarters with three men of the Empire who he’d only just met did not appeal to him. And it wouldn’t be the worst weather he’d ever slept out in. He wouldn’t melt. He found a slightly elevated hummock and pulled his cloak over him. He wasn’t terribly exhausted but the drumming of the rain finally lulled him into a restless sleep.
Speaks decided to make the most of the situation and transformed himself into the form of a large boar. He then proceeded to find the muddiest spot he could locate and try his best to wallow. While the action somehow suited his current form, he apparently lacked the instincts that must have made the activity truly enjoyable. Still, he was able to settle down next to Scipio and eventually doze off to sleep.
It was not dawn that woke the companions who slept out in the rain, but rather a brutal assault that took them completely by surprise.
Scipio was the first to react and he leapt upon the nearest of his foes on instinct. As he landed his claws found some purchase in the mass of vines and rotting leaves that comprised his enemy. Cathal woke unpleasantly as a thick club of vines lashed across his midsection. He scrambled to his feet and tumbled out of the immediate reach of his enemy, desperately trying to understand what it was they were up against.
Surrounding the three of them were at least five distinct, Mounds of vegetation that all appeared to be animated. As Cathal watched helplessly, another pair of them Shambled over to Speaks and struck him where he lay sleeping.
It was all over nearly before it was begun. After his initial assault, Scipio was thrashed mercilessly into unconsciousness as was his master. Cathal lasted a few moments longer as he flew into a rage and began to lash out with Mailbiter, the hand-and-a-half sword passed on to him by his father. But his foes outnumbered him and quickly swarmed him under. He fell unconscious to the ground as lightning flashed overhead and rain pelted his body.
Hours later as the day was reluctantly yielding a grey dawn to the sun above, Marcus descended the rope to relieve his bladder. He had donned his plate mail again for the day’s travel and hoped that its rattling wouldn’t awaken Speaks and Cathal. But when his feet touched the ground he looked about and they were nowhere to be found.
“Where did everybody go?”
NEXT: Where Did Everybody Go?