The Heroes Three (Point Five): Keep on the Borderlands - Cancelled

[Insight]

Awesome, awesome, awesome.
I am full of nostagic glee. You do a good job of capturing the feel of first-time adventurers.

Thanks! I have fun writing it. Most of my players read it too, so it sometimes helps in case they forget anything. Granted, I take a bit of license with some of the events, but the major events are all there.

So, any chance of seeing that Rogue's Gallery thread?

J

Let's see if I can get copies of the characters tomorrow. It's a distinct possibility. I guess I could have them post their own characters...

EDIT: Nah, they're gonna post their own darn characters! I have a story hour to write! Anyway, the Rogues' Gallery thread is up... check my sig for the link!

 

[Insight]

Assault on Merghis Keep Part One

Captain Rand Fairir looked over the bound Goblin, Grex, with disdain. While Fairir was most pleased to have another captive to question, the Captain was concerned about what he had just been told.

His office was a small space, as were many such offices in Merghis Keep. Capt. Fairir stood in the doorway, speaking with the Heroes who had just returned from their raid on a Goblin Encampment.

"So you and your friends found this Goblin in the hills just north of Merghis Keep?" he asked.

"We did," Vanidorr replied. "He had a lot of friends too. We took care of most of them."

"Good to hear," Capt. Fairir said. "But there are more?"

Tamos, holding the captive, smiled. "We are told other warbands are in the hills."

"I have heard something similar to this," Fairir said, turning to the walls, watching his men train and ready themselves. "There is to be an attack then?"

Rytahl chimed in. "There is... at least as far as the Goblins have said. They are quite confident in this fact."

"I wish I knew how many were really out there," the Captain said. "I fear we are understaffed for an attack."

A uniformed guardsman arrived with a set of manacles. "Oh good," the Captain said. "Sergeant, please take this Goblin to one of the questioning rooms. Fetch one of the interrogation teams. I'll meet them in a few minutes."

Taking possession of the captive, the Sergeant led the Goblin to a room nearby. That would not, however, be the last the Heroes saw of Grex the Goblin.

"Unfortunately, we have no idea how many there might be," Tamos explained. "We took care of what amounts to one Goblin Warband."

"That could be half their forces," Capt. Fairir said, "Or one twelfth of their forces. We have no way to know. And doubtlessly, not enough time to contact Specularum to ask for reinforcements."

He turned to face the trio of adventurers. "I wonder if I might ask for your help in this matter," he said. "You have thus far proven yourselves capable of dealing with these scum. The Castellan has asked me to hire on some additional troops from the various mercenaries who seem to have made this place their home."

"You want to hire us?" Rytahl asked.

"I would like to... compensate you for your aid," Fairir said. "Should the need arise, of course."

The Captain beckoned the Heroes inside his office. "Come, we have much to discuss."

...

Lenalia regarded the strange Elven ring on her finger, watching as the emerald at its center glint as its facets hit the lamplight. "Pretty, isn't it?" she asked.

She and her ally, Vanidorr, were in Lenalia's room at the Travelers' Inn. It was a small space, but comfortable enough for two people experimenting with magic items.

Vanidorr, wearing the other Elven ring, looked at his. "Sure," he replied. "It's nice. What did you say these magic rings did again?"

The Elf maiden shot Vanidorr a look. "I can read your thoughts," she revealed. "Quite handy, don't you think?"

"Woah," Vanidorr replied, quickly taking the ring off his finger. "They're not... um... turned on yet, right?"

"Stop your complaining," Sjoberg, the northern barbarian said, entering the room. "Tis a foul thing, this magic you rely on. But you asked what the ring did, and put it on before finding out. I hope she did read your mind."

"Hush," Vanidorr replied. "I just wanted to know what the ring did, that's all. Where have you been anyway?"

"I had need of some lighter armor," the barbarian replied. "And I found a few souls who had not yet heard our mighty tale of vanquishing the Goblin Horde!"

"In any event, gentlemen," Lenalia said, "I think these rings will come in handy for communication, especially for those of you who are keen to scout ahead at times. Those of us in the rear will know what's going on."

Sjoberg smiled. "So I guess you will be wearing the ring after all," he said. "Probably for the best. We need to keep an eye on you, sticky fingers."

"Hey," Vanidorr said, slowly putting the Elven ring back on. "I have never taken anything... that someone else wasn't using!"

Tamos entered the room. "There you two are," he said.

"Boy, it's getting crowded in here," Vanidorr commented.

Tamos smirked. "Sjoberg, we should probably go try to sell those small sets of armor now. Being magical and all, I imagine we should be able to fetch quite a bit of gold."

"You should really just give them to me," Vanidorr suggested. "I can get us a very good deal for selling them."

"I can get us a good deal as well," Tamos countered. "In fact, I'd be willing to bet our old friend Finstan would give us a great deal."

"That the merchant from the Guild... you saved him from a pack of wild dogs or something?" Vanidorr asked.

"Something like that," Tamos replied. "Anyway, we'd best get over there before the Guild Hall closes for the night."

"Where did Rothrusk go?" Lenalia asked. "I was expecting him to join us at the Tavern later."

"Someone from the Chapel came and got him," Tamos explained. "I think the Curate wanted to see him."

"Sjoberg," Lenalia said, "How about you and I meet Rytahl over at the Tavern? We'll let these boys take care of Guild matters. I could use a nice Elven wine right about now."

"Yes," the barbarian replied. "I have a question for someone there at the Tavern. And I could use a stiff drink myself."

The Heroes went their separate ways, and would later be rejoined in a most unexpected way.

...

Curate Ethelau stood alone in the cavernous interior of the Chapel of Merghis Keep, awaiting the subject of her summons. She didn't have to wait long, as she saw Rothrusk the aspirant enter through the double doors.

"Rothrusk," she said. "So good of you to come on such short notice."

Rothrusk dug into his pack. "I've got my tithe here somewhere," he said, fumbling through the coins.

"While I appreciate your zeal in making sure your tithe is paid," the Curate said, "That is not why you have been summoned here."

He looked up. "It's not?"

Ethelau smiled. "No, it's not. I have an urgent matter I need to discuss with you."

Rothrusk stood up straight. "You have my full attention."

"Excellent," Ethelau replied. "Because it's you that we will be discussing. Let's adjourn to the Library."

The pair entered the musty Library, a place that did not see much use. Before it was the Chapel, this area was an armory, and the Library had been storage for food and water. In that time, and even for many years thereafter, the Library had attracted hordes of rats. Books and scrolls had to be kept in sealed containers for fear of having their pages eaten or covers destroyed.

The Library was a small annex, but was chock full of histories, biographies, religious texts, and magical treatises. Curate Ethelau sat, while Rothrusk remained standing.

"You were sitting here not long ago," the Curate pointed out. "In fact, you spent quite a long time in this place, studying for being ordained. Do you feel that you've learned a lot since you've been at Merghis Keep?"

"Yes," Rothrusk replied. "About myself, and my capabilities. Used to be, I couldn't handle stressful situations much. Especially fights. I was never much of a fighter. Now, I can take care of myself in battle. I have learned how to use my abilities in combat, and to heal my friends and allies."

"Ah, but the life of a Cleric is more than just repelling the undead and healing allies in battle," Ethelau explained. "There is much, much more to learn."

"Pardon me," Rothrusk said, "But isn't that why I am here?"

"It is," the Curate replied. "You have chosen Valerias as your Immortal. You know - certainly better than I - that Valerias is not a patron of battle, but of love and romance. I find it strange that you have only applied your devotions to battle."

"Well... um..." Rothrusk said. "I have done a pretty good job keeping my allies patched up though."

"You have from all accounts done a fine job of healing their bodies," Ethelau said. 'What of their minds and their spirits? Surely, your allies are wounded in other ways." She stood. "Healing the body is a course of action many Clerics take, and it's the most obvious source of pain and trouble in a friend or congregate. But it takes true wisdom to see beyond physical damage and heal the mind and spirit."

"Are you saying I have more to learn?" Rothrusk asked. "I'll gladly do it. Just point the way."

"The time for me to point your way has come to an end, Rothrusk," Ethelau explained. "You are to come into your own in this regard. You will be the master of your own spiritual growth."

"You mean...?"

"Yes, Rothrusk," Curate Ethelau said, smiling. "You are to be ordained a Cleric."

Rothrusk smiled wide. "I am? I must tell my friends! Tamos will be so... happy for me!"

"You should hurry then," Ethelau suggested. "For the ceremony is TONIGHT!"

 

[Insight]

Assault on Merghis Keep Part Two

The two Heroes stood in the Guild Hall's vast atrium, awaiting their potential trade partner. Tamos was there, carrying the magical armors that would hopefully garner the Heroes a fair amount of gold.

"I hope Finstan is here," Tamos said impatiently. He stood next to Vanidorr, who was eyeing the guards posted in the passageway.

"If not, can't we trade with someone else?" Vanidorr asked. "Gold is gold."

"We're not members of the Guild," Tamos pointed out. "It's not exactly an open trading forum."

Before too much longer, Finstan, the Guild Merchant, arrived and welcomed Tamos, one of his rescuers. "Tamos," he said. "I am glad to see you again. You are doing well?"

Tamos smiled. "I am," he replied. "I hope that business is good. How is Rake?"

"Sent the boy to the military academy at Specularum," Finstan replied. "Seems the best place for him. I told Rake if he wants so badly to join the guards, that's where to start. No son of mine is going to be a mercenary."

"Not a bad plan at all," Tamos observed.

"Now, I understand we have some business to conduct," Finstan said. "Why don't you follow me?"

The Heroes did follow, and made their way to a small antechamber, closed off from the rest of the Guild Hall. This is where private meetings took place, and sometimes, under-the-table deals not meant for general knowledge.

Tamos opened his pack, and dumped out the pair of small-sized magical armors, as well as a finely-crafted shortsword. "This is what we have to sell," he declared.

Finstan looked over the goods. "Not bad," he said. "I'd wager all of them are very fine specimens. How much would you like for the set?"

"Well, uh, they are magical," Vanidorr asserted. "The armors are anyway."

Tamos nodded. "Yes, and we suspect they are worth quite a bit. That's why we came to you. Being the local gem-cutter and all..."

"Ah," Finstan said, his eyes brightening. "I am the biggest sack of gold that you boys know around the Keep." He laughed. "I suppose that is true. I do more than my fair share of business in this place. Despite the danger, Merghis Keep and its proximity to the Caves of Chaos... it's been very good for business."

"So we were thinking 1,500 gold pieces for the lot," Vanidorr remarked.

"Hmmm... " Finstan said, looking over the goods. "I don't know if they're worth that much to me. Perhaps a closer examination is in order." He got closer to the armor and weapons loaded onto the table, and his eyes glowed light blue for a few moments. He smiled. "Yes, the armors are indeed magical. I don't know about it, though. Perhaps the Tradesman would be able to meet your asking price."

"We came to you because of our past dealings," Tamos pointed out. "We know that you are a man of your word, and that, being a member of the Guild and all, you will see that these items find their way to a proper buyer, and not back into the hands of the Goblins."

Finstan rubbed his beard. The Heroes had saved him and his son, after all, and this seemed a good bargain. "I know of a few Halflings and Gnomes who might be able to make use of these suits of armor, and this is a fine sword..."

"If you're not sure, we can return tomorrow," Tamos offered. "Though I can't be certain my friends won't try to sell them in the meantime."

"Oh, very well," Finstan said, relenting. "It is a good deal, and perhaps I can make it even sweeter for you. I must go fetch my coin, and I will have something else for you as well."

Finstan left the room temporarily, leaving Tamos and Vanidorr to discuss things.

"What if he's up to something?" Vanidorr asked. "Need I remind you that they have our weapons?"

Tamos dismissed the notion. "Finstan is a good fellow. He'll come through for us."

And so he did. When he returned, Finstan dropped a sack of platinum coins on the table. Vanidorr immediately dove his hand inside to start counting. He was surprised to find something else inside the sack. "What's this?" he asked, producing a large, fist-sized red gemstone.

"That my friends is the 'bonus' I told you about," Finstan replied. "It is a magical stone, a red quartz I believe."

"What does it do?" Tamos asked.

"From what I am led to believe," Finstan replied, "Protects the possessor from the forces of Evil, whatever that means. There are some Orcish runs carved on its face. Came from the treasure horde of an Orcish chieftain. Supposedly, it also has some magical property if you crush it. Not sure about that one."

Vanidorr had just finished his rough count of the platinum. It turned out there was well enough coins to meet the Heroes' initial request in exchange for the armors and sword. "What do we owe you for the gem?"

"It's part of the deal," Finstan said. "Consider it a gift. Now, if you gentlemen don't mind... I have a busy evening planned. You can find your own way out."

Little did Tamos and Vanidorr know what part this strange red gemstone would play in their lives.

...

Lenalia and Sjoberg sat at a small table inside Shardstone Tavern. It was just starting to get busy that night, as the guard shift had just changed. This much was obvious from the sheer number of men in official guardsman tabards littering the place.

Sandros Shardstone was behind the bar as usual, and gave the Heroes a stout salute upon their entrance. He was most pleased that his barmaid had been returned unharmed.

Rytahl returned to the table. "Sorry about that," she said.

"No problem," Lenalia replied. "I didn't like the way those drunkards were looking at you either. I don't blame you in the least."

Sjoberg gave a good belly-laugh. "They'll likely not shoot a glance in this direction again!" he declared. "These fools cannot handle their ale, that much is for certain."

"So what are we doing here anyway," Lenalia asked. "Besides beating up on drunk guards, that is."

"Hey," Rytahl said. "I didn't beat up anyone. They were... reminded that I am a LADY... who happens to have a very nasty pickaxe."

Sjoberg laughed again. "In my village, we do not permit the womenfolk to carry weapons, but even if we did, I doubt too many would wield them with any more skill than our friend Rytahl here."

Mirra arrived at the Heroes' table and smiled broadly. "I would thank you again for saving my cousin and I," she said, serving another round of drinks. "This is, of course, on the house."

The Heroes gladly took their free drinks and gave them a sip. Sjoberg seemed particularly interested in speaking with Mirra. "Tell me, Mirra," he said. "Is your cousin, Ariel, anywhere to be found?"

"Oh, she's around here somewhere," Mirra replied. "Believe me, this is her kind of place."

"Really?" Lenalia asked. "From our prior conversation, Ariel didn't seem to be one to run in these sorts of circles."

"She's not," Mirra answered. "Well, not normally. But in this case, since she's looking for information, well... this is the place to be."

"Looking for information..." Sjoberg said. "Could I have a word with Ariel?"

"I don't see any reason why not," Mirra said. "I'll go find her."

The Heroes awaited, and drained their ales and wine. Sjoberg looked up in time to see the crowded tavern's patrons part almost as if commanded to do so, and a vision in black leather appeared in the midst, headed for the Heroes' table. It was Ariel, and she sure did clean up well. She was almost unrecognizeable from her ordeal at the Goblin Encampment.

The Barbarian's jaw dropped. He had never seen a woman so brazenly wear her weapons and carry herself with such confidence. She was almost manly in her bearing, though unmistakably a woman.

"I understand you wanted to see me?" Ariel asked when she arrived at the table.

Sjoberg cleared his throat. "Yes, I did. Would you like a drink?"

Ariel smiled. "Sure, if you can find anything decent in this hole."

Mirra returned, and gave her cousin a look. "Behave," she said quietly. Taking the drink order, Mirra left once again.

"You have my undivided attention," Ariel said. "Let's talk."

"I saw that you were... unfrightened at the Goblin Camp," Sjoberg said. "Unlike Mirra, you did not run at the first chance, but instead stayed and helped us to finish off the Goblins."

"Well, what can I say?" Ariel replied, smiling. "They had some payback coming. I don't like to be tied up... well, certainly not without my permission." She smirked, causing an unusual reaction in the Barbarian.

He cleared his throat again. "Anyway, I just noticed that you seem like you might be handy in a fight."

Ariel raised one eyebrow. "You and your friends looking to get into another scrap so soon?"

"It's always a possibility with this group," Rytahl noted.

"I'm not really much of a fighter," Ariel said. "Not so bad with this pair of crossbows though. Wanna see a neat trick?"

Lenalia stood abruptly. "Not in here," she cautioned.

Ariel smiled. "Of course not," she said. "I wouldn't dream of starting anything in here. It's not my style. I have been the subject of a bar fight or two in my time... but that's beside the point. Let's go outside."

Quick to his feet, Sjoberg raised an arm toward the door. "After you, Ariel."

The pair left the tavern, and made their way to a set of archery targets set against the walls of the keep.

Meanwhile, Rytahl and Lenalia received Sjoberg's drink order. "Shall we?" Rytahl asked.

"Go ahead," Lenalia said, gathering her things.

Rytahl gulped the whiskey Sjoberg had ordered for Ariel, then looked up. "Going somewhere?" she asked.

"I've got to take a look at that silver urn again," the Elf revealed.

With that, Lenalia was off to the Travelers' Inn, leaving Rytahl to fend for herself at the tavern.

...

***Lenalia Makes Another Potion***
Back at her room at the inn, Lenalia examined the mysterious [color]silver urn[/color], and the runes it bore. While the Elf maiden had not yet been able to precisely determine the many powers of this device, she had learned thus far that it converted certain ingredients into a magical purple potion. Lenalia drank this potion a few days ago, and felt slightly stronger since that time.

She set the urn down, and found the extra set of ingredients she had purchased from the Tradesman a few days before. There was a distinct possibility that drinking another potion would do nothing, or might have a counter-effect, but the curiosity that was building within Lenalia was too great to resist. She would have to try it again.

Mixing the ingredients in the urn, Lenalia was very careful to follow the arcane directions to the letter. The mixture made the same purple goo as before, so she closed the lid and incanted the magic word that would hopefully transform the mixture into another magical potion.

There was a flash of light, followed by a violet haze coming from under the lid. lenalia carefully removed the lid, and saw that a potion had indeed been created. The Elf poured the concoction into a glass vial, but immediately noted that this potion was slightly different than the prior one. Lenalia's immediate thought was that she had done something wrong in either the mixing of the ingredients or had said the wrong the command word.

"Well," she said. "Here goes nothing." She drank the magic potion, draining the vial dry. Still, there were no immediate effects. "Hmmm... I guess it's slow-acting or something."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Lenalia opened the door to find a young boy in Church vestments standing there. "Can I help you?" Lenalia asked. "You look lost."

"No, madame," the boy said. "I was sent to find the Elf maiden, Lenalia. That is you, is it not?"

Lenalia smiled. "You've found me," she said. "But I'm afraid I don't know what this is about. Has Rothrusk done something? Did he befoul your Chapel?"

The boy suppressed a smile. "No, madame," he replied. "Nothing of the sort. Your friend, Rothrusk, he is to be honored tonight."

"Honored?" Lenalia asked sarcastically. "For what?"

"Why, tonight is Rothrusk's ordination," the page said. "And, of course, you and your friends are invited. Curate Ethelau has asked that you attend as her special guests."

Lenalia quickly changed clothes and met the others downstairs, where they had all gathered to get ready for the ceremony. Another page was sent to lead them to the Chapel, where they would witness a very special event in the life of one Rothrusk of Stirrick, and then, something entirely different.

 

[Insight]

Assault on Merghis Keep Part Three

The Chapel, flush with candle light and banners for each of the major Immortals hanging on the hallowed halls, was filled to capacity. It was not normally such a popular place - most visitors were usually of two types: Clerics and warriors who have been wounded in battle. While one would on occasion find more than a dozen people inside the Chapel at any one time, this was a special event, and nearly every important person in Merghis Keep was in attendance.

Curate Ethelau stood at the podium, decked out in regalia commensurate with her position as head of worship at the Chapel. She waited for the gathered crowd to be seated, and then began.

"I wish to welcome all of you to the Great Chapel," she said. "It warms my heart to see so many familiar faces in the crowd tonight, knowing that you have come to the Chapel for this very special evening. Before we begin, I would like to say a benediction, to bless this sacred event."

The Curate spoke in the language of the Immortals, blessing all under the roof of the Great Chapel and the special ordination that was about to take place.

"And now, I would like to introduce the leader of Merghis Keep, and a great friend to the Chapel, Castellan Winmark."

The Castellan, who was not normally seen outside the confines of his fortress, approached the podium. He was a middle-aged man, wearing ceremonial attire, a grand tabard worn over a suit of magical chain mail armor. Unlike most of the visitors, who were required to surrender their weapons, Castellan Winmark displayed a fine magical sword at his side.

"Good evening all," he began. "This is indeed a great event. We are assembled here to honor the ascendance of one of our local heroes to the rank of Cleric, and be ordained into the Clergy of our great kingdom. We have all been touched by the actions of this man, who came to us not long ago from the small farming village of Stirrick, far to the south of the Borderlands. He and his fellow companions have done great deeds for Merghis Keep and its citizens, and it is in part because of these deeds that Rothrusk of Stirrick is to be ordained tonight into the Great Clergy."

Applause erupted in the hall, as Curate Ethelau, ushered Rothrusk to the stage. Winmark continued, "I am pleased to present Rothrusk of Stirrick, candidate for Cleric in the Clergy of the Immortals. Aspirant Rothrusk will now read of the Rolls of the Sacred."

Rothrusk nervously approached the podium and unfurled the scroll that he had been working on for the last few hours in his room. "Good evening, all," he said. "It is with great humility that I accept this nomination, and as is tradition, I would like to read from the Rolls of the Sacred."

He looked into the audience for the first time, and saw many familiar faces. The merchant Finstan was there, seated next to the Dwarven tavernkeep, Sandros Shardstone. Mirra, the bardmaid and Rothrusk's confidante, was also there, seated next to her cousin, Ariel.

Behind them were Rothrusk's oldest friends, those he had come here with from Stirrick, Tamos, his brother, and Lenalia, the Elf sorceress who had shared his life since he could remember. Next to these two were some of Rothrusk's newest friends, Sjoberg, the Barbarian he had helped free from the Caves of Chaos, the roguish Vanidorr, and their companion, the warrior-maiden, Rytahl.

Rothrusk haltingly read from his scroll, losing his place a few times, but kept up a reasonable pace, especially considering public speaking was not his forte. The Aspirant finished to a rousing applause, which brought a tear to Rothrusk's eye. He turned to Curate Ethelau, who shook his hand and took the podium, with Rothrusk just off to one side.

"It is my duty and honor to nominate Rothrusk of Stirrick as candiate for the Great Clergy," she said. "And, with the power invested in me by the Great Clergy of the Grand Duchy of Karameikos, I accept your nomination, Rothrusk of Stirrick, into the Great Clergy, and bestow upon you the title of Cleric Adept, and hereby bequeath upon you the name Rothrusk the Willful."

Rothrusk knelt at Curate Ethelau's feet. The Curate produced a sceptre from her robes, a great jeweled rod made of platinum, and touched Rothrusk with the tip on both shoulders. "Rothrusk the Willful, rise."

He did so, and smiled. "I accept the title of Cleric Adept," he said.

Curate Ethelau handed Rothrusk a silver symbol of Valerias, Rothrusk's chosen Immortal patron. "This symbol is yours, Rothrusk. It is a material symbol of your faith, and the rank of Cleric Adept, which you now hold. Display this symbol proudly, as it demonstrates your status as an ordained member of the Great Clergy."

At this point, the stodgy ceremony broke into a more casual affair, as Rothrusk, Castellan Winmark, and Curate Ethelau formed a reception line to greet all of the guests. Some of the guests had brought tokens for Rothrusk, the newest Cleric of Merghis Keep. Some of them had words of wisdom instead. Time would tell which was the more valuable.

...

There was a reception held afterwards in the Atrium. Mostly everyone was there, though a few, such as Sandros Shardstone, dutifully returned to their businesses. Many of the VIPs, such as Castellan Winmark, were likewise not present at the reception. Most important to Rothrusk, however, was the presence of his adventuring companions.

It was a modest reception, with food and libations provided by the Chapel. The first to approach Rothrusk was his brother, Tamos.

"Well, you did it," Tamos said. "I wish Mother had been here to see this."

"I dunno..." Rothrusk replied. "She was not in favor of my... career choice."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Tamos said. "Mother wasn't exactly jumping for joy when I went off to the Monastery either. I think would have been much happier if we had stayed in Stirrick and became farmers."

"It would have been safer," Rothrusk pointed out.

"I agree," Tamos said, "But how much fun is safe?"

Lenalia wandered over to the pair of brothers. "What are you two doing over here in the corner?" she asked. "The party is over here!"

"Lenalia," Rothrusk said. "Thanks so much for coming. I know these affairs of humans are not exactly your favorite thing to do."

"It's not so bad," Lenalia replied. "The drinks aren't bad either."

In fact, Lenalia had a pair of drinks in her hands, each half full. This was highly unusual, as neither brother had seen the Elf maiden drink like this - ever.

"Is everything all right?" Tamos asked, looking at the half-drunk Elf maiden.

"I'm having a GREAT time!" she shouted, loud enough for everyone in the Atrium to hear. She was, in fact, making a scene.

"Maybe you should slow down a bit," Tamos suggested. "I think you've had enough ale for one night."

"So, do you have to wear those vestments all the time?" Lenalia asked, referring to Rothrusk's ceremonial garb.

"Hmmm?" he said, looking down. "No, these are ceremonial only. To be honest, I feel a little 'naked' without my gear. I have only these robes on me."

"Are you expecting trouble?" the Elf asked. "I think we're pretty safe here," she added, laughing.

Just then, the doors to the Atrium burst open, a pair of guardsmen trodding through into the reception.

"They're here!" one of the guardsmen declared. "The Orcs, the Goblins... they're here! MERGHIS KEEP IS UNDER ATTACK!"

 

[Insight]

Assault on Merghis Keep Part Four

Hordes of Goblins, Hobgoblins, and Orcs converged on Merghis Keep. They brought with them not only numbers exceeding those of the Keep's defenders, but also siege towers and other devices with which to turn the tide against the Keep. It was obvious from the get-go that the Orcs and their allies were very, very serious.

The Heroes, hearing of the assault, charged to the walls straight from the Chapel, where they had been celebrating Rothrusk's ordainment as a Cleric. Though most of the Heroes had given up their weapons at the doors to the Chapel, Rothrusk himself was thoroughly unarmed and unarmored. Despite this, he charged to defend the walls of the Keep, along with his friends and allies.

Tamos stopped when he saw Captain Rand Fairir and got the man's attention. "We heard of the attack just now," he noted.

"Very well," Fairir replied. "I am glad to see that you responded so quickly, but there is little time to work out the details. I must ask you to help, all of you. The creatures are on the march. They will be here in just moments."

The other Heroes gathered around, while soldiers of all types buzzed around them, getting ready to defend Merghis Keep.

"All of the flanks look pretty solid except that one," Capt. Fairir said, pointing to a section adjacent to Fountain Square, Travelers' Inn, and Shardstone Tavern. "Would you be so kind as to take charge of that section... we'll be along to help out if you need assistance. All we have there right now is a crew to man the ballista and a few pikemen."

"No problem," Vanidorr replied. "We're on it."

"Cleric Rothrusk," Capt Fairir said, "While I admire your valor, don't you think you should find some weapons and armor? You look... unprepared to do battle in those vestments."

"Yes, brother," Tamos said. "Our room at the inn... you can find your gear there."

Rothrusk took off around the corner to find Travelers' Inn, while the rest of the Heroes charged to the walls to which they had been assigned.

"You will help us defend the walls?" Sjoberg asked of Ariel as they ran to the walls.

"Of course," Ariel replied. "Why do you even need to ask?"

Sjoberg smiled as he produced his special pickaxe. "You owe us nothing," he said. "You kind does not have a life-debt, this much I have learned."

Ariel readied to climb the ladder leading to the battlements. "I have nothing but love for these subhumanoids. Maybe I can work out the rest of my aggression against their kind."

"Let's get going, you two," Lenalia remarked. Those siege towers aren't going to burn themselves to the ground!"

After the Elf maiden and Rytahl scaled the ladder, Ariel was next, followed by Sjoberg and Tamos. The latter pair could not help but mentally note their fortune at following a trio of comely females up the ladder.

When the Heroes reached the top of the wall, they saw quite a scene. A crew of guards worked the ballista, while another group of pikemen switched to crossbows and plunked shots at the onrushing Goblins and Orcs, coming at the Keep from the ground level. In the distance (and getting closer) was a three-story wooden siege tower, filled with Orcish archers and leader personalities.

The Goblins and Orcs on the ground began tossing grapples to catch them on the battlements, in an attempt to scale the walls and gain access to the inside. Though there were far more grapples than the Heroes could stop, it was a fairly simple matter to chop ropes attached to as many of the grapples as they could get to.

In addition, Orcs on the siege tower began firing flaming arrows at guards and the Heroes on the battlements. Most of these arrows were poorly aimed, and glanced off shields and the battlements themselves, but one in particular caught Lenalia in the shoulder.

Tamos and Rytahl readied crossbows and returned fire at the siege tower, while Vanidorr and Sjoberg readied to face off against any Goblins or Orcs who managed to get to the top of the wall. Sure enough, before too much longer, the Heroes had visitors, in the form of a dozen Goblins armed with maces and shortswords. On the other side of the ballista emplacement, the pikemen who had been using their crossbows on ground troops were beset with a unit of Orcs armed with broad-axes and were forced into defense mode.

Realizing that the situation was becoming dire, Sjoberg, who was becoming a bit of a showman, decided to rally the troops with a tale that he hoped would lighten their spirits. It was a tale of his own tribe of Northern Barbarians, who had fended off a Hill Giant attack. Though the Barbarians did not have ballistae or fancy stone walls, they had resilience and tenacity, which proved enough to repel the giants.

Orcs joined the Goblins on the Heroes' side of the battlements, and swarmed around Vanidorr and Lenalia. Defending the lady Elf, Vanidorr leapt between Lenalia and a pair of Goblins and, faking one out, slew the other, lancing his sword through the creature's abdomen. Lenalia took out the other Goblin, who had been stunned by Vanidorr's ploy.

"Clever," Lenalia remarked.

"That's nothing," Vanidorr replied, jumping to one side to engage the Orcs who were getting too close.

Ariel drew her pair of hand crossbows and fired, tagging two separate Orcs in the process, but not taking them down. The Orcs turned away from Vanidorr, whom they were charge, allowed their former prey to get in behind them. The Orcs' attention thus diverted, it was a simple matter for Vanidorr to hit them in vital spots. Ariel put one crossbow away and drew a shortsword and helped Vanidorr finish off the other Orc.

"Now that's teamwork," Vanidorr noted. "Rytahl, did you see any of this?"

Rytahl did not have a response, as she charged in with Sjoberg to confront the wave of Goblins and Orcs who had popped up between the Heroes and the ballista emplacement. Rytahl, armed with a pickaxe and shortsword, met the Orcs head-on, while Sjoberg, armed with his own unique pickaxe, battled alongside the warrior-maiden.

Tamos had moved in towards the ballista emplacement a little earlier, but now found himself surrounded. On all sides were Goblins, who while not terribly threatening one-on-one, were proving to be quite deadly in great numbers. Seeing his allies charge to his aid, Tamos still felt a bit overwhelmed, so he did the only thing he could - he dove off the side of the wall!

"Tamos!" Rytahl called out, thinking her ally had gone crazy.

Instead, Tamos somersaulted in midair and stuck the landing, falling twenty feet through the air, but landing squarely on his feet, none the worse for the effort.

The confused Goblins looked around just in time to see Sjoberg and Rytahl moving in for the kill. The pair combined to wipe out a whole section of the creatures, knocking them to the Keep floor below.

Despite their success, the Heroes knew that the battle was just getting started. They looked up to see the siege tower's ramp crash down on the battlements, and half a dozen heavily-armed and armored Orc warriors emerge, ready to turn the tide against the Keep's defenders!

...

Tamos ran straight from the walls to Travelers' Inn looking to see where his brother Rothrusk had gone. As soon as he arrived at the doors to the Inn, Rothrusk emerged, a mace in one hand, and his shield in the other, his new holy symbol hung around his neck.

"Brother," Tamos remarked. "What's taken so long?"

"Oh, you know," Rothrusk said, "The usual. I imagine the battle is going well...?"

The pair of brothers approached the battlements. "Yes, although we have a siege tower full of Orcs to deal with. Possibly their leaders."

"Sounds like the rest of you could use with some... spiritual guidance then," Rothrusk replied.

"We'll need a lot more than that," Tamos said. "Your healing skills are going to come in handy, I'm pretty sure."

Tamos was right, and would be proven as such very soon.

 

[Insight]

Assault on Merghis Keep Part Five

As the ramp lowered, Sjoberg and Rytahl could see that trouble was coming, in the form of six battleaxe-wielding Orc warriors, who had just stepped onto the battlements after having been transported thereto on the siege tower which was now affixed to the walls of Merghis Keep

Sjoberg let out a vicious battle cry and charged, taking the Orc warriors by surprise. They weren't used to humans being so direct in combat. Rytahl, her weapons at the ready, followed, though with a bit more care.

"Oh, sure," Rytahl said, "Take them all for yourself, why don't you, Sjoberg?"

Ariel, her pair of shortswords now in hand, followed along, much more cautiously than the others, knowing full well that her allies were far more experienced in this sort of thing. While Ariel was agile and clever, she was more of a seductress and sometimes dancer than a warrior. Vanidorr was soon at her side, his own sword at the ready.

"Stay away from those guys," he warned, indicating the new Orcish axemen. "They look dangerous."

"No kidding," Ariel replied. "You don't see me charging into that mess do you?"

"Just making sure," Vanidorr said. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Awww..." she said mockingly. "Touching, but I can handle myself, thank you."

"I'm sure you can," Vanidorr replied. "Let's go help out. Just let me know if you need to get away."

Ariel smiled. "You'll be the first to know."

Behind them on the walls was Lenalia, the Elf sorceress, who was supporting her allies with her bow and magical skills, firing the occasional arrow or magical bolt of energy into the fray. The problem was that, with the preponderance of enemies on the battlements with bows and slings, Lenalia was not exactly safe where she was, and she would soon learn why.

Just as the Heroes had reacted to the siege tower, the ballista emplacement was overrun with Orcs and Goblins, who slew all but one of the guards working the ballista. This guard, who was lucky to escape, fled to join the pair of pikemen holding off the Orcs who had scaled the opposite side of the ballista.

Half of the Orcs and Goblins split off and headed toward the siege tower and where the Heroes had been defending, and drawing their bows and slings, made missile attacks on the Heroes. Ariel, Lenalia, and Vanidorr were the most frequent targets, as they were not yet engaged with the Orc Warriors from the siege tower. Though Vanidorr and Ariel were mostly unharmed, Lenalia fell unconscious from a few well-placed shots.

As that happened, Rothrusk, the newly minted Cleric, had just finished scaling the ladder. Seeing his fallen friend and ally, Rothrusk knelt and healed the Elf maiden.

Tamos, using a magic potion his brother had given him, climbed the side of the wall, and found himself amidst a pack of bow-wielding Orcs, the very same ones who had launched the aerial assault on Lenalia. Tamos barrelled into one of the Orcs and took the creature to the floor of the battlement, surrounded by many other Orcs.

Gathering around, the Orcs jabbed at Tamos and his captive as they rolled around atop the battlements. While none could get a solid hit on the grappling pair, each combatant sustained several nicks and bruises from the exchange. Just then, one Goblin popped into the crowd and tried to gut Tamos. Seeing this, Tamos instinctively rolled away from the Goblin's strike, using his Orc grappling partner as a shield. The Goblin's shortsword penetrated the Orc all the way through, nearly slicing Tamos at the same time!

Vanidorr was taken aback as a pair of Orc Warriors charged right for him and Ariel. The warriors, well trained in the use of their axes, swung and slashed Vanidorr across the chest, nearly knocking him off the wall to his death. Ariel danced into the space between them and hacked at one of the Orcs with her blade, distracting them long enough for Vanidorr to regain his bearings.

As Ariel turned to make sure Vanidorr was still alive, she took her attention away from the Orcs long enough that one of them batted her away, knocking Ariel to the ground. The Orc Warrior followed that up with an axe strike that nearly slew Ariel on the spot. Vanidorr could do nothing but roll away, hoping to save his own skin.

Rytahl and Sjoberg were faring no better. The Barbarian had slowly pushed the Orcs back into their own siege tower, but the Orc Leaders had not yet even joined the battle. They did not, in fact, until half of their own warriors were down or dead.

Sjoberg, his mind focused solely on slaying whatever creature was before him, did not notice the large Orc Warlord bearing down on him. The Warlord, brandishing a great axe, took one swing and hacked deeply into Sjoberg's shoulder. Were it not for the northerner's battle ferocity and ability to ignore pain, Sjoberg would certainly have been sent into shock after such a blow.

Awakened, Lenalia rose and fired off a pair of magical energy bolts into the crowd of Orcs who were still peppering the backside of the battle area with arrows. Joined by Rothrusk with his crossbow, the pair of allies took out the remaining archers.

Rytahl and Sjoberg, faced with overwhelming odds and a pair of Orc Leaders, had no choice but to battle their way into the siege tower itself, the only place where they could avoid being surrounded on all sides. This separated them from the rest of their allies but not for long. Just as Rytahl began thinking of some way to escape, Vanidorr bravely dove from the walls of the Keep into the siege tower itself, landing just behind Rytahl.

"Never fear," he said, "Vanidorr is here!"

As he said this, one of the large Orc Warlords moved in, taking advantage of Vanidorr's momentary lapse in clarity, and plowed the would-be hero in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him, and toppling Vanidorr to the floor of the siege tower.

In response, Rytahl drove her pickaxe into the Warlord's head, slaying the creature instantly. Before Rytahl could check to see whether Vanidorr was still alive, a pair of Orcs stepped into the breach to distract her.

Tamos, free of the dead Orc whom he had used as a shield, found himself surrounded by other Orcs, as well as a lone Goblin who had tried to kill him. Tamos attempted to roll away from the crowd, but his foes were too quick, and buried a few axes into Tamos, stopping him cold. He was still under the weight of a few dead Orcs, and so the rest of them weren't quite sure whether Tamos was dead or not, and didn't have time to check.

Rytahl and Sjoberg looked briefly at one another as the remaining Orc Warlord bore down on them. Others Orcs also closed in, but it was clear that their morale was broken a bit following the demise of the other Warlord.

Lenalia looked at Rothrusk as she fired off another volley of magical bolts. "You should get up there," she said. "Sjoberg looks like he could use your talents. Ariel too. Maybe others. I can stay back here and keep those other Orcs busy."

Without saying a word, Rothrusk made his way to the fallen Ariel and after saying a devotion to Valerias, brought her back to consciousness.

"Wow," she said. "Those guys hit hard."

She got to her feet and drew her pair of crossbows, loaded them quickly, and fired at a pair of Goblins who were harassing the lone guard left on the far side of the ballista emplacement. This brave soul had been the last of the group that had been holding off the other unit of Orcs from the other side, and now, he was free to help the Heroes with the big mess of Orcs surrounding the siege tower.

Seeing Rothrusk making his way toward the siege tower, Sjoberg backed his way to the edge of it facing the battlements, keeping wary of the large Orc Warlord nearby. "Take care," Sjoberg said to Rothrusk. "Do not get too close, for these brigands have little mercy."

Rothrusk smiled. "Here, let me fix that nasty wound," he said, motioning to Sjoberg and holding his holy symbol. In an instant, Sjoberg was fully healed, and ready to face the Orc Warlord.

In the meantime, Rytahl and Ariel had flanked the Orc Warlord, and were keeping him busy, allowing time for Rothrusk to do his healing bit. As soon as he was healed, Sjoberg charged in heedlessly, and barrelled right into the hulking brute, catching the Warlord off balance.

Combining their efforts, Rytahl, Sjoberg, and Ariel wore down the Orc Warlord. A wild swing did drop Ariel once again, but Rothrusk, who was still lingering nearby, stepped in to save her. Sjoberg dealt the Warlord a nearly fatal blow with his bone pickaxe, while Rytahl finished the creature off with her flail.

As the Warlord fell dead, the rest of the Orcs broke and ran, but did not get far. Captain Rand Fairir and a cadre of guardsmen were waiting on the other side of the battlements, manacles in hand. They quickly took the remaining Orcs into custody.

Meanwhile, Rothrusk had raised up all of his fallen allies, including his brother, Tamos, who was found five-deep under a pile of dead Orcs and Goblins.

"Tsk, tsk," Rothrusk said as Tamos opened his eyes. "Tamos, what have I told you about rolling around with Orcs?"

Tamos stood. "Yes, mother."

"Now, I believe there's a reward waiting for us," Vanidorr said from behind Rothrusk.

Captain Fairir had just finished with the captured Orcs. "I believe you're right. How about you have a drink on me, and we'll discuss your fee."

A joyous evening was had by all, regardless of the nearly successful assault. The Heroes had once again been victorious, and had learned more about each other and their own capabilities. Their status at Merghis Keep as heroes and saviors was rising in the eyes of everyone, and it was becoming plain to all that these saviors might very well be the ones to finally end the threat of the creatures of the Caves of Chaos.

Whether or not this would happen is debatable. But one thing was for sure, our Heroes had earned their rest, as well as more than one round of ales at Shardstone Tavern, all of which were, of course, on the house.

END GAME SESSION SIX

 

[threshel]

Nice.

J

 

[Insight]

A Lull in the Action - Special St. Patty's Day Game - Part One

The Smithy was slowing down after a day's business. Conwulf, the hulking behemoth of a man, operated the bellows in the back, and was getting ready to shut down for the evening. He and his sons, Jarrel and Quiarnek, worked the Smithy and had been until recently very busy. When the mercenaries had been through, the Smithy was flush with orders. In fact, Castellan Winmark basically overran the Smithy with orders for all sorts of arms and armor for these mercenaries.

But now that the mercenaries had been through the place, Conwulf and his sons were back to business as usual. A few repairs here, a few new swords and maces there, Conwulf and his boys could manage this sort of pace - it was what they had become accustomed to, especially for the boys who were barely out of apprenticeships.

But there was one final customer to service. Just as Jarrel was about to close the shop doors, a lanky human darted between the opening and made his way inside.

"Oh are you about to close?" Vanidorr asked. "I'll just be a minute."

Jarrel stared down Vanidorr, and gave him the look of someone who had little patience. "Make it quick. Tis quitting time."

"Very well," Vanidorr replied. "I have need of some armor. Word has it that your smithy is the place to acquire what I need." Looking down at his left hand, Vanidorr realized he had forgotten to remove the Elven ring that provided a mental link between himself and Lenalia. Since Vanidorr wasn't really in the mood to be bothered right now, he quickly took off the ring and put it in his pocket.

"So yes," Vanidorr continued. "One suit of armor is all."

Quiarnek, the older brother, wandered over to see this customer. "Sure, we make armor. Tis a smithy, after all."

"Yes, that's what the sign says," Vanidorr joked. The brothers did not so much as crack a smile. "What I'm looking for is a fine suit of chain mail, or more correctly a jerkin or shirt, something I can wear beneath my clothing that won't weigh me down so much."

"For someone of your size..." Jerrel said. "We have lots in stock already. Mayhap I give you one to try on."

"Well, I was hoping you could custom-make one for me," Vanidorr suggested. "I need to be absolutely sure it's of the right fit and weight. I don't want to get burdened by a suit of armor that's not right for me."

Conwulf, the massive northerner, finally came over to see what was going on. "Looking for a suit of chain mail," he noted.

Vanidorr's head quickly turned to take stock of the smith, obviously of barbarian bloodlines. "Yes, a light suit, hopefully one made specially for me."

"We do that sort of work," Conwulf replied. "It'll cost you much more than our stock suits of chain."

"Oh, I expected as such," Vanidorr said. "I can pay."

"I suppose we could commission a chain hauberk for you," Conwulf stated. "Put down a deposit of say... 125 gold."

"How long will it take?" Vanidorr asked. "I'm sort of in a hurry."

"Custom-fit work takes time," the smith answered. "To make it as light as possible, I have to use certain materials and weaves in the chain."

"Hmmm..." Vanidorr said. "Well, maybe I should check around to see if anyone has magical armor for sale."

"If you're in a hurry and want something like that," Conwulf said, "I would check with Eudes Ironil, the Provisioner."

"Excellent idea," Vanidorr replied. "He's not far from here. Thanks for your help."

Vanidorr took his leave of the Smithy and after following a few would-be marks for his... light fingers, decided better of it and made straight for the Provisioner's Shop.

This place was a far cry from the Smithy. The Provisioner stocked his shop's many cramped shelves with all manner of books, potions, scrolls, trinkets, and other oddities. It was common for Ironil to buy an item, only to sell it in the very same day to another customer. The Provisioner always warned customers not to wait to buy something of value, as he rarely kept special items in stock for long.

Entering the place, Vanidorr was surprised to find old Eudes right next to the door, dusting off a shelf full of different colored potions.

"Yes, yes," Ironil said. "We are still open for the moment. Come right in."

Vanidorr closed the door and entered, his eyes darting here and there, just trying to take in all of the various items and trinkets on the dozens of small shelves throughout the shop.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time," Vanidorr said. "Just looking for some armor. I hope you have some in stock."

"Well, let me see..." Ironil said, waddling behind the sales counter. "Many things back here... I believe someone sold me... yes, here it is." The old man produced a chain hauberk of obviously high quality. The shirt had seen action, that much was clear, but it was still in very fine condition. The Provisioner placed it on the table.

Vanidorr was quick to examine the chain hauberk. "That is quite nice," he remarked. "I've not seen anything like it. Does it have any... special qualities?"

Eudes rubbed his whiskered chin. "The man told me that you can catch a reddish glint on the chain links when it's held to the light just right... says it was forged in dragon's blood... whatever that means."

"Forged in dragon's blood?" Vanidorr asked. "Sold! How much do you want for it?"

"You understand that this is magic armor," Ironil cautioned. "It's not going to be cheap."

"Don't most people who come in here know about the magic items you sell?" Vanidorr asked. "I am willing to part with quite a bit of gold coins if this is indeed magical."

"I can assure you that it is," the Provisioner replied. "You are welcome to examine it."

Realizing he did not have the capability to verify the arcane properties (or lack thereof), Vanidorr simply smiled. "I'll trust you," he said.

"Very well," Eudes replied. "I'd be happy with 1,250 gold pieces, or the equivalent, in exchange for this suit of fine chain mail."

Vanidorr balked. "Um, that's a little more than I was looking to spend," he stammered. "Can I give you a thousand and throw in a suit of studded leather... never been worn!" He produced the armor and threw it on the counter, smiling broadly.

Ironil briefly looked at the studded leather armor, his eyes glowing blue for a moment. "Are you sure you can't come up with the 1,250? I don't really need another suit of mundane armor."

"No," Vanidorr replied. "I'm afraid that's all I really have to spend." This wasn't exactly true. After all, Vanidorr did have the means at his disposal to come up with more money. But, it would take chicanery and probably some pickpocketing to come up with an extra 250 gold. Vanidorr realized he likely wouldn't have that much time, and he didn't want to risk being thrown in the dungeon.

"Tell you what," Ironil said. "I'm willing to take a gamble on you, young one. I'll sell you this suit of armor for 1,000 gold, and I'll take your well-worn suit of leather, but you must make me a deal."

"Sure," Vanidorr replied, not exactly knowing what to expect.

"You must sell me another item of a magical nature, the next one that you come across," Ironil explained. "I know that you and your friends are likely to go back to the Caves of Chaos, and I happen to know that quite a few magical items can be had there."

"Of course," Vanidorr said. This would be an easy agreement, or so Vanidorr thought.

"Ah yes, but the catch," Ironil said. "You must sell me the next one you come across for well below market value."

Vanidorr considered the deal. "All right," he said, not knowing whether he would ever see this old man ever again.

He paid the thousand gold, handed over the old suit of studded leather, and took possession of the magical chain shirt. It would be a while before Vanidorr learned the other special property of this armor, but he would indeed be pleasantly surprised.

...

Shardstone Tavern was alive with energy. Like most nights, it was a busy place, giving Sandros Shardstone, its owner, plenty of ales to sling, and coins to be counted at the end of the night.

But the energy tonight was different. For what had seemed like the longest time, Shardstone Tavern sustained itself on whiskey-laced tales of one-on-one combat, morality lessons, and eager boasting. This night, an aspiring storyteller was here to enegerize the patrons instead, and was doing rather a fine job at it.

A small crowd had gathered around the barbarian from the north. Sjoberg was holding court, telling tales not only of his epic ancestors and the people of his tribe, but also of more recent events, especially the Battle of Merghis Keep.

"And there I was, pitted against the most powerful Orcish warriors I had ever seen," he said. ""Their axes, big as goats' heads, looked even more massive against the backdrop of the pale moon."

The crowd was captivated, and took in every word with bated breath.

"To my side was this lass, Rytahl," he continued, indicating his warrior-maiden ally. "Some of my other allies were there too, and some of them are with us tonight, in this very tavern."

Rytahl blushed and gulped down her ale to avoid the attention. "I did my fair share," she managed.

"Oh, she did more than that," Sjoberg declared. "It was, in fact, this very lass who did slay the final Orcish Warlord that night. You can thank Rytahl here for your very lives!"

A set of Dwarves had found their way into the crowd, and appreciated the northern's storytelling style.

"Tell us more of these Orcs," Gumbadh, the Dwarves' leader, implored.

"Yes," Sjoberg replied. "Well, as I said, we were surrounded, many of our fellow defenders laid bleeding on the battlements. It was quite the bloody scene. Our Cleric, Rothrusk, who had just been sworn as a man of the cloth," he paused and indicated Rothrusk with one hand. The Cleric tipped his cap. "Rothrusk here was saying prayers to heal the fallen, as any good Shaman should do, but it was becoming desperate."

"Fate smiled on us, however," Sjoberg continued, "And we prevailed with the direct aid of one Vanidorr, another of my allies... is Vanidorr here?"

"No idea," Lenalia said. The Elf maiden wore a magical Elven ring which created a bond with the other wearer, the missing Vanidorr. She smiled. "I imagine he's out causing trouble."

Tamos, who stood with Lenalia and Rothrusk, pounded down an ale. "No doubt we'll be fishing him out of the dungeon before too long," he added.

"Anyway, Vanidorr bravely leapt into the siege tower," Sjoberg continued. "Right into a heap of the creatures. He was brave and, alas, almost died for it. Our friend Tamos was there as well, and lent a much-needed hand."

"Brave friends are hard to find," Gumbadh pointed out. "You are fortunate to have them."

The Dwarf moved in closer. Sjoberg and the others noticed that he and his friends bore the symbol of Clan Grumberbel, a Dwarven clan most notable for its vast wealth and standing in the Dwarven community.

"I'll tell ya what," he continued. "You seem a knowledgeable storyteller, and I like your style."

"Have a drink, then," Sjoberg replied, raising his own mug. "A toast to all who served in the defense of Merghis Keep!"

There was a rousing toast, and many mugs were drained.

When it settled down, Gumbadh spoke once again. "Do you know any Dwarven tales of glory? I'll buy the entire room ales and whiskey if you can provide such entertainment on our behalf."

Sjoberg's eyes lit up. "Why, of course!" Running through his mind, and not wanting to let Gumbadh or any of the other patrons down, the northerner strained his half-drunk mind to come up with something. "Perhaps... the tale of... Doundandrick... and the Fire Giant!"

Gumbadh smiled. "That'll work."

The barbarian, unaccustomed as he was to retelling such tales, did an admirable job, recounting the ages-old story of a lone Dwarven warrior, Doundandrick, who was left alone to defend a village full of women, children, and the infirmed, against a rampaging Fire Giant.

When the story was done, Gumbadh grinned. "Not bad... for a HUMAN!" He and his friends had a good laugh. "I've heard better, but you'll be a good storyteller. For the effort, how about a Dwarven whiskey for this fine skald!"

 

[Insight]

A Lull in the Action - Special St. Patty's Day Game - Part Two

The night wore on, and eventually, the crowd inside Shardstone Tavern died down. Taking a break from the storytelling, Sjoberg found himself out back, speaking with Mirra, the barmaid.

"I wanted to thank you again," Mirra said. "You and Rothrusk, and the others... my cousin and I really appreciate your efforts in saving us from those Goblins."

Sjoberg fiddled with his pickaxe as they spoke. "Your cousin, Ariel, she handled herself quite well that night."

Mirra looked upon Sjoberg's unique bone axe. "I understand you and Ariel had a chat about that very topic the other night, right before the attack."

"Aye," Sjoberg replied hesitantly. "I forgot that you ladies like to... speak of your social matters."

"You mean gossip?" Mirra asked, smiling. "I guess you could say that. Ariel and I have grown close in the week or so since she arrived here at Merghis Keep. It's nice to have a female friend around, or in this case, a relative."

"Have you seen Ariel tonight?" Sjoberg asked. "I had a few... questions for her."

Mirra cracked a smile and chuckled. "I don't think she's your type, Sjoberg."

The barbarian frowned. "You truly mean that I am not her type, do you not?"

"I don't mean to disappoint you, but Ariel - "

"Should my ears be burning?" a voice asked from the darkness. It was Ariel, who appeared literally out of the night. "You know, there's a saying in noble circles. You're not really anybody until they're talking about you behind your back."

"Ariel," Sjoberg said breathlessly. "We were, uh..."

"Just wondering where you had gone," Mirra said, covering for the barbarian. "It's been busy tonight."

"Uh huh," Ariel replied, not quite buying her cousin's ruse. "Well, to answer your question, I've been around."

"I bet you have," Mirra said under her breath.

"I did want to speak with you, Ariel," Sjoberg said. "Perhaps if you're not busy later.."

"You know what, I actually have a question for you, Sjoberg," Ariel replied. "My understanding is that you and your friends are to return to the Caves of Chaos. Mind if I tag along? I have something I need to do there."

"There is the matter of the Ogre," Sjoberg said. "Our friends, they need to defeat this beast, and I am going to aid them in any way possible."

"Ariel, I don't know if you should be going into the Caves," Mirra warned. "It's pretty dangerous."

"YOU know why I need to go to the Caves," Ariel shot back. "It's why I'm here at Merghis Keep in the first place."

"And why is that, if I may ask?" Sjoberg inquired.

Ariel took a few steps. "I came to this place seeking a... friend, let's say. He is someone I have known for quite some time, and when he decided to come to this place, I decided to tag along, uninvited."

"And this friend of yours," Sjoberg asked. "Who is he?"

"No one that you would know," Ariel replied curtly. "If you must know, his name is Jared Sarkenin. He went into the Caves about a week and a half ago, and to my knowledge, has not ever emerged."

"How do you know?" Sjoberg asked.

"Oh, I have my ways..." Ariel replied. "Besides, I watched his group enter and leave the Caves. Sarkenin did not leave with the rest of the mercs. I know he's still in there."

"And he's not dead," Mirra sarcastically interjected. "Ariel seems to think she would know if he were dead. Maybe it's a magic power she possesses, like her power to make men drool uncontrollably."

Mirra cinched up her apron. "Well, I've got work to do," she said. "You two have fun." With that, Mirra returned to the interior of the Tavern, leaving Sjoberg and Ariel alone.

"So you would have me along?" Ariel asked.

"You are just looking for this Sarkenin?" Sjoberg replied. "We should be able to help you find him, if he's still alive."

"Good," Ariel said. "Now, you look like a man who could use another ale. Why don't we see if we can rectify that matter?"

...

The Half-elf Rocelin appeared right next to Lenalia as she waited at the bar for her Elven wine.

(The following conversation is in the Elven language.)

"Fair lady," Rocelin said. "Why do you insist on coming back to this place?"

Lenalia turned quickly upon hearing her native tongue. "Rocelin," she said.

"The very same," he replied. "I have been gone from this place for a while. You can imagine how surprised I was to find that you are still here."

"Yes," Lenalia replied. "I'm afraid my friends are insistent that we remove the threat of an Ogre from the Caves of Chaos. I hope it's our last foray into that place. I'm looking forward to a change in scenery."

"I can imagine," Rocelin said. "I too am looking forward to new places, or perhaps, a return to old places."

"You are leaving Merghis Keep then?" Lenalia asked.

"Definitely," the Half-elf replied. "But I would like to speak with you and your friends. I have something to offer you."

(End conversation in the Elven language.)

It did not take long to rustle up Rothrusk, Tamos, and Rytahl. Still, no one could locate Vanidorr, but the Heroes would find him later that night, and not in the Keep's dungeon.

"I am glad to see you again, Rothrusk and Tamos," Rocelin said. "It has been too long."

"Indeed," Tamos replied. "Lenalia said you have something of importance to discuss with us?"

"Right on task as usual, aren't you, Tamos?" the Half-elf commented.

"Sorry," Tamos said. "It's late, and my brother here has had way too much ale."

"Fair enough," Rocelin replied. "What I have to offer may seem strange at first, but I believe it to be beneficial to yourselves, as well as to myself. I am to return to the Caves of Chaos, and I have it on good authority that you are going there soon yourselves."

"Who is this guy?" Rytahl asked. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you from a hole in the ground. How do we know we can trust you?"

"I'll vouch for Rocelin," Tamos said. "He helped us when we first got to the Keep, and that's good enough for me."

Lenalia smiled. "Continue, Rocelin."

"Yes, well, it seems that we have a common interest," Rocelin continued. "My understanding is that you have an Ogre to deal with, and knowing what I do of your travails against this creature, I completely understand your need to remove the Ogre."

"How do you know so much about us?" Rytahl asked. "I don't mean to be rude, but we have a lot of people around here asking questions about our plans."

"As Tamos said, I have known several of your friends for a while now," Rocelin replied. "So, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to the Caves, I will aid you in defeating the Ogre if you will help me in finding what I need in the Caves."

"Only if the rest of us agree," Rytahl said. "And only if the Ogre is first priority."

"That sounds reasonable," Rocelin said.

"So what is it that you're after?" Lenalia asked.

"That is a complicated issue," Rocelin said. "Suffice it to say that finding this will be of great value to me, and possibly to the rest of you as well, but that's hard to say right now."

"Well what is it?" Rytahl demanded.

"I'm sorry, young one," Rocelin replied. "But I'm not sure I should reveal that right now. It's the sort of thing that you need to see in order to fully appreciate it."

It was agreed that Rocelin would join the Heroes, but several members still had questions about the Half-elf's motives. Such questions were left unanswered, as the night was growing extremely late, and there was still the matter of finding Vanidorr.

He was found eventually, safe and sound in the Travelers' Inn, none the worse for wear. He had replaced the magic Elven ring, which enabled Lenalia to quickly track Vanidorr down. The rest of the night passed without incident.

...

The Heroes gathered their things from the Inn, and purchased a few healing potions from the Provisioner, then made their way out of Merghis Keep and into the wilderness.

As it had been the last few times, the Heroes made a relatively quiet trip from Merghis Keep to the Caves. When they arrived at the clearing, it was time to make camp and discuss tactics before heading inside, especially given that there were quite a number of new group members this time, and things had definitely changed.

When camp was made, Tamos took Rocelin aside. "Can you tell me anything else about what you seek within the Caves?"

The Half-elf looked away from Tamos and into the clearing. "There is something there... I don't know if now is the right time to reveal its nature."

"Are you saying you don't trust us?" Tamos suggested.

Rocelin laughed a bit. "No," he replied. "It has nothing to do with trust, although I wish I could say the same for some of your companions. I'm not deaf, you know."

Tamos smirked. "They are... pushy to say the least," he admitted. "You have to understand, most of them do not know you at all."

"Yes, I realize as much," Rocelin said. "This is why we need time. Before I can reveal anything further, I need to be sure. There is much that you have yet to comprehend, Tamos. I believe you and your friends will be well-suited to the task at hand, but I don't want to burden you with the details as yet."

"Very well," Tamos replied. "But the longer you choose to remain silent, the more suspicious they will get, and the more questions they will have."

"I am prepared for that," Rocelin said, looking back at Tamos. "All I ask is that you have patience. I know that you, among all of them, will have patience. Perhaps your resilience will spread to your allies. It is the only hope I have."

"Hope?" Tamos asked.

"It is time for me to go home," Rocelin revealed. "My hope is that you and your friends will help me get there."

Those were the last words spoken between Tamos and Rocelin for some time. But they would not be the last. Rocelin would reveal his purpose soon enough, and it would change everything.

END GAME SESSION SEVEN

 

[Insight]

Update

Just a note for my loyal readers. We had to skip last night's session, so don't expect another update for about a week.

Thanks for continuing to read our Story Hour!