The Rat Bastard Campaign Chronicle (Updated 3/28/05)

[RatPunk]

Chapter 3: The Dwarven Ruins, Part 1

The group waited patiently for Jackie to join them. Once he had, they continued the discussion of what they should do next. Ostler, Shuglin and Chao were in favor of heading back to Travensburg. The rest wanted to follow the tracks to see if there were more bandits and solve the problem once and for all.

In the end, they decided to split up. Chao and the dwarves would take the wagon back to Travensburg. Hugh, Jackie, Jeb, Rumblethorn and Brush would see where the tracks led. With any luck, they’d be able to surprise the rest of the bandits, if indeed there were more, before the bandits even realized that the group who had attacked the wagon was missing.

And so they set out. Just beyond the road, the tracks entered the woods. Even through the foliage, they were easy to follow. The bandits obviously weren’t concerned about being discovered. Eventually, the group noticed a small hill up ahead. In its side, freshly cleared of vegetation, was the mouth of a cave.

Suddenly, Jeb spotted movement in the darkness just inside. The group took cover and quietly formulated a plan. Jeb and Jackie would fan out and sneak up on the cave from either side of the path. Hugh and Rumblethorn would hold their positions and keep an eye on things from the front while Rumblethorn sent Brush down the path to check things out. Being a wolf, she would draw the least amount of suspicion if she were spotted.

Jackie and Jeb started off, taking their time to make sure they were quiet and remained within the cover of the woods. Brush began her slow approach to the cave mouth as well. She took her time, wandering back and forth across the trail checking out everything. She may have been an animal, but she was one heck of an actress.

She had closed to within several yards of the entrance, when a shout came from inside. Jeb and Jackie both froze for a second, but satisfied that they hadn’t been spotted, they quickly continued to inch their way forward. Brush kept moving as well. A second yell from the cave was followed by a rock aimed in the wolf’s general direction. Still, no one could be seen inside. Brush took the rock as a sign that she had gotten close enough for the time being and sat down.

Jeb had almost reached his side of the hill, but Jackie was still a few feet away. Suddenly, he felt a breeze blow up, which caused the branches above to move. They parted and a ray of mid-day sunlight pierced the forest canopy to shine down on the exact spot where Jackie stood. This did not go unnoticed by whoever was in the cave and a louder, more excited shout went up.

Hugh realized that the stealthy approach had been blown, so he leapt onto the path and charged. Brush, Jackie and Rumblethorn did likewise. Jeb stood his ground, still concealed and undetected, and watched for anything to emerge from the cave, his short bow at the ready. Whoever was inside decided to wait on the attackers, however, so Jeb was left to bring up the rear as the others entered the cave.

The cave entrance opened onto a tunnel just wide enough for them to enter single file. With the wolf in the lead, they cautiously made their way forward. When they reached a point where the tunnel unexpectedly widened, something took a swing at the wolf from the side. Brush managed to keep her opponent pinned long enough for Hugh to step forward and kill it. A quick inspection revealed the attacker to be an orc.

The familiar twang of a crossbow, as well as the whistling of the bolt as it went by, alerted them to the presence of a second opponent. Hugh’s inspection of the dead orc had also revealed that the tunnel hadn’t just widened, it had in fact branched off. The group used this to their advantage and split up. The side tunnel reconnected to the main one several feet farther down. This junction was where the second orc was firing from, but he wasn’t watching his back and Hugh was able to get behind him. The orc was quickly dispatched. They quickly hid the bodies in the side tunnel and continued down the main tunnel until it ended at a large, wooden door.

They could hear quite a commotion on the other side, with lots of shouting and banging going on. Hugh opened the door and jumped into the room, quickly followed by the others. They had surprised another group of orcs in what was obviously a storeroom of some sort. The orcs were quick to grab their weapons, but by the time they had two of them were already dead as the group flooded quickly into the room. It took only a minute for the remaining orcs to be dealt with and the room secured.

A quick search of the barrels and crates found mostly mining supplies and food, the latter of which was almost certainly from Travensburg’s missing shipments. One thing was for certain, though. No matter what their current undertaking was, these orcs were definitely planning on being here for a while. The group took a minute to grab anything that might be of immediate use, and then cautiously opened the other door in the room.

It opened onto an empty hallway. They lit a lantern and cautiously made their way forward. Within minutes, they came to an intersection. A cave-in blocked the passage on the right, the left continued on into darkness and straight ahead they could faintly make out a door. They pressed forward.

The door was locked, but it took no time at all for Jeb to pick it. Hugh looked at him with mild suspicion, but he paid no heed to the paladin’s reproachful stare. Instead, he opened the door. The hallway continued on for several more yards before opening onto a room of some kind. They could make out no other details by the light of the lantern from this distance.

Hugh took the lead again as they proceeded cautiously towards the room. Hugh was beginning to make out two large, rectangular stone shapes on the floor ahead. The closer he got, the more he could make out. The room was round. The stone shapes looked like sarcophagi. And he began to smell a faint stench. It smelled like something dead.

Hugh entered the room. The stones were indeed two dwarven sarcophagi. The remains of two greataxes were lying on the lids. He turned back to the others just in time to see the ghoul attack. It launched itself out of the shadows straight at Jeb, who had no time to react. Jeb and the ghoul went tumbling to the floor, the vile, rotting creature viciously clawing and biting at Jeb’s face. Jackie and Hugh jumped forward and managed to force the ghoul away from the hapless gnome. They struck at the creature repeatedly until it moved no more.

Jeb was much the worse for wear. He still lived, but not by much. They helped him to his feet, Rumblethorn cast a quick healing speal on him, and they set out to check the rest of the room. The only thing that remained of the greataxes was the axe heads. But they were as clean and sharp as if they had been forged the day before. They were of superb craftsmanship.

"Put some of those hafts we found in the store room to them and these would make fine weapons for Shuglin and Ostler," Jeb said.

"We can’t take these," Hugh protested. "These are tombs. We can’t desecrate them."

"It’s not desecration," Jeb said. "They’re dwarven axes. We’ll be giving them to dwarves. What could be wrong with that?"

"It’s a tomb. They were placed here to honor these two dwarves. It would be sacrilege to remove them."

And so the debate continued for several long minutes. When Jackie and Rumblethorn spoke up in favor of Jeb’s suggestion, Hugh resigned himself to the fact that he would lose this battle. With a loud "humph", he stormed back up the hallway. Under his breath, he asked Mayaheine for forgiveness. Jeb gathered up the axes.

Back at the intersection, they turned down the unexplored passage. The hallway turned to the left after several feet, then continued on until it opened onto a small, square room. In the center of the room was a strange winch and chain system attached to a platform that hung suspended over an opening in the floor. Peering over the edge of the pit, they could see that it extended downward for at least a couple of floors. The strange lift was the only way down.

The lift was barely large enough for all of them, but they squeezed on and began operating the chain and winch. The ride was slow and they were sure the noise from the chain would alert the entire complex to their presence, but eventually they reached the next level. The room was identical to the one they had just left and it was empty.

They found that this level was laid out much like the one above. The hallway leading from the lift room ended in another intersection, with the passages ahead and to the right both blocked by debris. They turned their attention to the open passage on the left. As they did, they failed to notice the movement in the shadows above the debris in the passage they had been facing.

Suddenly, something shot out of the shadows and grabbed Jeb by the throat, dragging him back towards the debris...

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 3 - The Dwarven Ruins, Part 2

Suddenly, something shot out of the shadows and grabbed Jeb by the throat, dragging him back towards the debris. The others turned at Jeb’s strangled cry just in time to see the choker drag him up towards what remained of the rafters. Once again, they ran to try and save the little gnome. Jackie drew his sling as Hugh tried to reach the beast with his sword.

It took several minutes, but they finally succeeded in getting the creature to loosen its grip. Jeb fell to the floor where Rumblethorn and Brush pulled him to safety. He was unconscious, but alive. A moment later the choker was dead.

The group took stock of the situation as Rumblethorn cast another healing spell on Jeb. It was enough to awaken him, but he was still quite weak. He needed to rest. They decided to quickly check out the remaining passage and then find some place to hole up for the night. They found the perfect place at the end of the passage.

The hallway opened onto another small, square room. Piled in the room was trash. Lots and lots of trash. Apparently the orcs were using this room to dispose of all their garbage. With some rearranging, the group would be able to hide in the room with little chance of being detected. That is, if they could tolerate the smell.

With everyone but Jeb taking a turn at the watch, they passed the night uneventfully. The bandits didn’t so much as even rattle the lift chain. As they prepared to set out again, Rumblethorn cast one more healing spell on Jeb for good measure. Then it was back to the lift room and down to the next floor.

As the lift descended, the group began to hear voices. A group of orcs was talking somewhere below them, but they didn’t sound alarmed. Perhaps they remained unaware of the group’s presence in the dungeon. They would know soon enough.

The lift cleared the shaft in the ceiling. There were only three orcs and they were standing in a hallway off to the side, not in the room. Hugh didn’t wait for the lift to reach the ground. He leapt off and charged the orcs, taking them completely by surprise. The others quickly followed and soon there were three orc corpses lying on the floor.

They now faced another decision. There were two hallways exiting the room, one on their left and the one in front of them where the orcs had been. There was no shaft in the floor for the lift to continue down, so for all intents and purposes, this was the bottom of the complex. They could hear faint sounds coming from the left, so they went that way.

Down a short hall and around a corner and they were faced with another door. The shouting that came from the other side was orcish, but didn’t sound angry like what they had heard from the storeroom the day before. In fact, it sounded almost jovial. Then Jeb heard the tell-tale rattle and clatter of dice being thrown. The occupants were gambling.

Hugh kicked the door in. The orcs and hobgoblins inside leapt to their feet, scattering the coins on the floor as they scrambled for their weapons. The party pressed their advantage and forced their way into the room. The orcs fell quickly, but the two hobgoblins put up a tough fight. Eventually, they too were overcome. As the last one hit the ground, Jeb was already gathering up all the coins.

The locked door in the back of the room was no trouble for Jeb, who opened it with ease. The small room inside was empty except for a cot, a makeshift desk and a locked chest. Jeb quickly found that the chest was not only locked, but trapped as well. He took his time, disarmed the trap and the chest was open in no time.

The contents were worth the effort. A bag of coins, a spellbook, some scrolls, an enchanted short sword, and a backpack that held much more than looked possible. They loaded everything up and went back the way they’d come.

Once in the lift room, they turned down the hall where they’d left the dead orcs. It continued on for a short distance, then turned to the right, where it ended in a large, intricately carved wooden door. Once again, they could hear noise coming from the other side. This time it was the ringing sound of metal hitting stone. Hugh opened the door.

The room looked as if it had been a temple at one time or another. It was a long room, with a high ceiling supported by two rows of columns running down either side of the room. The far end of the room had apparently collapsed some time ago. There were two orcs digging at the rubble with picks. Standing beside the middle column on the left was a human male. He was studying the wall in front of him intently.

The door creaked as Hugh opened it. The man turned and Hugh could see the holy symbol hanging around his neck. Wee Jas. Before the priest could make a move, Hugh was on him. The two orcs also turned at the noise. They lunged for their greataxes, which were leaning against the pillars. They never made it. Jeb and Jackie took them both down with quick shots from their crossbows. The priest was dead before the orcs hit the ground.

They surveyed the room. On the wall near the entrance, carved in dwarven runes, were the words "The dwarven spirit is filled with secrets". There was a strange design on the floor as well.

In one corner stood several small crates. Contained within were tapestries and religious items of Wee Jas. Hugh surmised that the dead priest had been planning on using them to consecrate the temple to the Goddess of Death.

Hugh destroyed what religious items he could, but the tapestries were packed back into their crates. They decided to take everything of value back up to the storeroom. It took several trips, but eventually the entire complex was stripped of virtually everything that could be sold. But how to get it back to Travensburg?

In the end, they decided to send Rumblethorn and Brush back to town. When he arrived, he found Ostler and Shuglin at the local tavern. Chao was nowhere to be seen. The two dwarves explained that, as soon as they had arrived back in Travensburg, Chao had decide that he didn’t want to travel with the group anymore. He had left town shortly thereafter.

In turn, Rumblethorn told them what had happened in the dungeon. They were quite disappointed that they had missed out on all the fun. After another quick drink, they went to see Alexei. He was ecstatic to learn that the bandit threat appeared to be over. He gladly provided them with a wagon and horse and the trio soon departed for the cave.

The wagon made for slow going through the forest, but eventually they arrived. It took several hours to load everything from the storeroom onto the wagon. By the time they were finished, it was getting dark, so they decided to stay the night. If their had been any doubts in their minds that any bandits were left, the uneventful night spent at the cave convinced them that they had, indeed, cleared it out.

In the morning, they headed for Travensburg. Alexi and the townspeople greeted them like heroes, showering them with thanks and praise. Naturally, they ate it up. When talk turned to selling their newly gotten merchandise, Alexi quickly pointed out that no shop in the village would be able to buy everything they had acquired. They would have to travel to Dyvers for that.

They decided to rest and recover for a couple of days, then head to Dyvers. Alexi again provided them with a wagon and horse and even a couple of his scouts to show them the most direct path through the forest. Before they left, he also gave them a letter of recommendation to be given to the High Priest of Pelor in Dyvers. He would make sure that the group found everything they needed.

And so, with their treasure loaded and final farewells made, the group set off on the road to Dyvers.

 

[RatPunk]

Interlude: Dyvers

The trip to Dyvers was long and uneventful. Ten days after leaving the tiny village of Travensburg, the group could see the sprawling expanse of the free-city ahead of them, the shimmering blue vastness of the Nyr Dyv shone in the morning sun behind it. It still took them several hours to reach the city gates.

They arrived at mid-day, along with just about everyone else from the surrounding countryside, it seemed. Once in the city proper, they made short work of finding the Temple of Pelor. It would have been hard to miss. The white stone building was massive. It was easily the largest building any of them had ever seen in their lives.

They went in and were quickly greeted by acolytes, who politely refused to let them see the High Priest until Hugh presented the letter from Alexei Travensburg. One of the acolytes quickly snatched the letter away and hurried off down one of the many long hallways in the temple. The acolyte returned several minutes later to escort them to the High Priest’s office.

They waited for another couple of minutes in the antechamber until another acolyte stepped through the door and asked them to come inside. The man behind the desk was an average looking middle aged man, with hair that was thinning on the top. He stood, excused the acolyte and offered his hand to Hugh in introduction.

"I’m Jean Baptiste, High Priest of Pelor here in Dyvers", he said warmly.

The group looked at each other for a moment, then Hugh shook his hand and made the introductions. Jean asked them to be seated and offered them refreshments. As they waited for the acolytes to return with snacks and drinks, they got down to business. The group filled Jean in on what had happened at Travensburg and the dwarven ruin. Hugh offered him the tapestries and remaining religious items of Wee Jas "for disposal". The High Priest readily accepted them.

Once the tale was done, Jean offered to make arrangements for the group to stay in town. He introduced Hugh to Beatrice Teraquin, a paladin of Mayaheine who could help him further his training in the paladin arts. He instructed Jackie to seek out Brother Lars at the Temple of St. Cuthbert. Rumblethorn he directed to the druid’s grove outside the city and told him to seek out Leafinger Twigblower, High Druid of the region.

For Jeb and the dwarves, however, he was at a loss. He suggested that they try Kholar the Merchant. Kholar was a highly successful and respected businessman and was generally considered to be the highest ranking dwarf in town. He would definitely be interested in the information they had about the dwarven ruin. And he would most likely be able to buy any of the excess treasure that the group was looking to sell.

As it turned out, he could do better than that. Kholar not only bought everything the party wanted to sell, but he also "knew some people" who could help Jeb learn a thing or two about the more stealthy aspects of being a "missile warrior".

With the arrangements for lodging and further training taken care of, the group settled in to the temporary routine of daily life in the big city. It was almost three weeks later when they decided to meet at their favorite tavern to discuss the prospect of further adventuring.

It was the week of Growfest, which meant certain religious obligations for Hugh, so he told the group he would be late. The rest of them decided to go to the tavern early to get a good table and wait on Hugh to finish up.

No sooner had they walked in the door when all hell broke loose...

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 4 - Ratik, Part 1

At the beginning of this session we switched DMs as Hugh's player took over the game. I came in as Knuptar the Ranger and began keeping the official game journal. Another player joined the group at this time in the form of Pyro, a big hulking fighter.

And now, without further ado:


---From the Journal of Knuptar---

So there I was, relaxing in some nameless tavern in Dyvers, when this fighter-type walked in and sat down next to me. The place was completely empty and he picked the stool next to mine. Terrific. So much for an afternoon of quiet reflection.

After a couple of drinks, we started to chat. The guy’s name was Pyro. Where he was from or why he was there, I don’t know, but he seemed like an ok sort of guy. We traded war stories and the like and bought each other a couple of rounds.

This had gone on for about an hour or so, when I declared that I was too drunk to even fire my bow straight. Pyro said I seemed sober enough to him. I told him he was full of crap! “I wouldn’t even be able to hit that dartboard across the room,” I said. To which he replied “Wanna bet?”

Now, far be it for me to pass up an opportunity to make some easy money, so I said, “Yeah, I’ll bet you that I am too drunk to hit that dartboard”. He said, “You’re on.” So I notched an arrow to my bow and took aim. I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right! I hit the stinking dartboard dead center, right in the bull’s eye!

About this time, a group of hardy looking adventurers made up almost entirely of short people (2 dwarves, an elf (with a wolf), a gnome and a halfling) walked in. They didn’t even make it to a table before the room started filling with mist and I began to get a bit dizzy. As the room started to disappear around us, I grabbed my mug of ale off the bar and finished it off. I had a feeling that I would need a good, stiff drink when whatever was happening finished happening…

Turned out, I was right! When things got clear again, we were standing on a road in the middle of what appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be nowhere. By we, I mean me, Pyro and the short adventuring group. Anyway, in front of us stood a guy with a scroll in his hand. He looked quite confused at first, but then yelled, “Kill him!” and pointed behind us. Naturally, we all turned around. Standing behind us several yards away was another guy, who looked equally confused and just a tad scared.

Even though the suggestion to kill this guy sounded intriguing, I personally didn’t feel like it at the moment. Unfortunately, some of my newfound comrades did. The gnome whipped out a crossbow and let fly with a bolt that nailed the guy right in the chest. Then the two dwarves started running towards him, waving their axes over their heads as they went. They looked none too comfortable wielding their axes in this manner.

Pyro and I, however, decided that the first guy was a big dick, so I let loose with an arrow in his direction. I may not have been drunk enough to miss a dart board, but I was definitely drunk enough to miss this guy. The arrow whistling over his head shook him up a bit, though. He dropped the scroll and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

I ran over to where he’d been standing and picked up the scroll. Other than some gibberish written across the top, it was completely blank. I checked around, but didn’t find any tracks, so I turned to see what was going on with the other guy. I’ll be damned if he wasn’t lying on the ground unconscious and bleeding, with everyone else standing around looking at him. Everyone except for the gnome. He was going through the guy’s stuff.

Since the situation appeared to be under control, I went into the woods a little way to see if I could spot any sign of the disappearing guy. I did find a few tracks, but they led to a rather large tree. I climbed up a bit, and took a look around, but there was nothing to be seen, and the possibility of being ambushed entered my mind, so I climbed down and went back to the others.

When I returned, they were all standing around looking confused. They weren’t sure why they had attacked the guy lying on the ground. It had just sounded like a good idea at the time. As it turned out, one of the dwarves (Ostler by name) was a cleric, so he healed the guy enough to bring him around. He sat up, but he was understandably more than a bit nervous about being surrounded by the very people who had just tried to kill him. Under considerable questioning, with more than a little skepticism and hostility, he told us his story.

His name, he said, was Corian. The guy who wanted him dead was Vortigern. The whole ruckus was over an amulet that belonged to some wizard named Eralion. It turned out that several years ago, this Eralion discovered a method of becoming a lich by making a deal of some sort with Orcus. Recently, Corian had found a letter from Eralion that explained the whole deal and included the amulet, which was the key to Eralion’s secret crypt. Corian had learned that Eralion hadn’t been powerful enough to actually become a lich, so he was headed to Eralion’s place to check it out. Vortigern had somehow learned of this and was trying to kill Corian so he could take the amulet and get Eralion’s stuff for himself.

Or something like that.

This was all well and good, but was he telling the truth? With no way to tell for sure, we agreed to accompany him to the nearby village of Fairhill, which had been his destination anyway. The gnome, Jebeddo, refused to return any of Corian’s stuff to him until he had proven himself reliable. This sounded reasonable to everyone but Corian, but nobody cared what he thought at that point, so we packed up and headed for Fairhill. Corian did tell us that we were now in Ratik. Only a couple of thousand miles from where we had started.

Well, it turned out that “nearby” village meant three days travel on foot. The end of the first day found us on the road, deep in the middle of the forest. It was decided that we should find a suitable campsite somewhere off the road, which we quickly did, and I rustled up some rabbits and the like for supper. The forest seemed to be plentiful with wildlife.

Around the campfire, we sat and talked. Pyro and I filled the group in on who we were and they made introductions as well. They had gone to the tavern in Dyvers to wait on a friend, a paladin named Hugh. Now they had no idea how (or if) they were going to hook up with him again. Perhaps they could find some answers once we reached Fairhill.

With supper out of the way it was time to set the watch schedule and get some sleep. Since I opted to take the last watch, I settled down in a nice warm spot near the fire and dropped quickly off to a light sleep.

Sometime after midnight, I was awakened by a noise in the distance. I sat up and grabbed my swords, but waited to hear it again. I didn’t have to wait long. It sounded like a baby crying in the distance. Jeb, who had been on watch, had obviously heard it too. He noticed that I was awake and indicated that he was going to head off in the direction of the sound. I grabbed my bow and followed after him.

We crept quietly through the foliage for a short distance until we saw the source of the noise. Ahead was a creature that looked something like a deer, but it had a badger-like head. I had heard tales of such creatures when I lived in the Vesve. It was a leucrotta. And it had spotted us.

It charged. Jeb and I brought our bows to bear and started shooting. We wounded it, but not enough to dissuade it from its attack. I dropped my bow and drew my swords. The beast was much more agile than I had suspected and it had little trouble dodging many of our blows. But not all. We were slowly wearing it down.

Then we noticed the second leucrotta. And it was bigger.

Now we were in trouble. I had already thrown down my bow and Jeb’s shots wouldn’t be enough to slow the bigger creature down. It took a couple of steps toward us and made a noise. The smaller creature turned away from us and ran back to its parent. Jeb and I took a step back and lowered our weapons. The larger leucrotta looked at us menacingly for another second or two, then they both disappeared into the woods. Jeb and I sighed in relief and returned to camp.

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 4 - Ratik, Part 2

--- From the Journal of Knuptar ---

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. In the morning, we ate a quick breakfast then resumed the journey to Fairhill. Sometime in the afternoon we made it out of the forest. We hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when we heard a loud buzzing noise. We looked around for the source of the noise. There were three bird-like creatures with extremely long beaks in the sky above us. Stirges. And they were coming right for us.

Those of us who had ranged weapons made use of them. Unfortunately, Jeb was the only one who managed to hit. His target practically exploded from the crossbow shaft that pierced its tiny body. We managed to keep one of them at bay by swinging our weapons at it. The other one, however, latched onto Shuglin’s back and sunk its long snout into his body. He immediately went white and became unsteady on his feet, but he didn’t fall. I’m sure it was through sheer willpower alone.

As the rest of us fought to keep the airborne stirge at bay, Ostler ran to help his friend. Interestingly, his idea of help involved swinging his greataxe at the stirge on Shuglin’s back to try and dislodge it. Fortunately, Ostler wasn’t proficient with said weapon and all of his blows managed to miss not only the stirge, but Shuglin as well.

Finally, someone managed to connect with the still flying stirge and it crashed to the ground. At about the same time, the remaining stirge decided that it had drank its fill from Shuglin and detached itself. As it leapt from his back, I stepped up and sliced it in two with a swing of my short sword. The stirge menace was no more.

Everyone gathered to see how Shuglin was. He was weak and more than a little wobbly, but he would survive. Unfortunately, we were out of healing spells. He would have to slog along as best he could until tomorrow. He smiled and gave a weak thumbs-up. He was a dwarf. Of course he would make it. Once again we set off towards Fairhill.

After a few hours of walking, Shuglin began to feel better. His color had returned and he walked without assistance. He still needed healing but he wasn’t on the verge of collapsing in the middle of the road. We hoped the rest of the trip would be uneventful. It wouldn’t be.

As we rounded a bend in the road, we spotted a farmhouse and barn ahead. We could tell right away that something was wrong. It was mid-afternoon and there wasn’t any activity. We approached cautiously. As we drew closer, we saw the bodies lying in the front yard. There were animal and human corpses alike.

Upon closer examination, the human bodies appeared to be those of the farmer and his family. What’s more, they had only been dead for a couple of days. We decided to spread out and search the farm. Rumblethorn, Jackie and I headed for the barn while Jeb, Pyro and Corian went to the house. The dwarves checked the outside perimeter.

Inside the barn, we found that not all of the animals had been slaughtered. There were a handful of pigs and chickens still alive, along with a large draft horse. We finished searching the barn, which turned out to be empty, then located some feed and fed the starving animals. The draft horse was most appreciative and Rumblethorn and I spent some time cleaning it up and taking care of it.

The house was empty as well and the dwarves had likewise failed to turn up anything of consequence. With darkness approaching, and the area at least temporarily secure, we decided to spend the night at the farm. Jeb and the dwarves thought it would be a good idea to bury the farmer’s family, so they went out to the front yard and began digging graves. Pyro and I opted to take advantage of the farm’s kitchen and started cooking supper.

That was when Vortigern caught up with us again.

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 5 - The Farmhouse of Death, part 1

--- From the Journal of Knuptar---

So there we were, messing around in this recently de-occupied farmhouse. Pyro and I were frying up some grub in the kitchen as Corian the Useless watched. Jeb, Ostler and Shuglin were digging graves in the front yard for the farmer and his family. Rumblethorn was in the barn trying to bond with the draft horse and Jackie was in the hayloft checking things out.

Suddenly, there was a yell from the front yard. Pyro and I glanced out the window. Jeb and the dwarves were surrounded by four skeletons, which had apparently just sprung from the ground. Jeb had nothing but his crossbow ready, but Ostler had already drawn his axe. Shuglin had his axe out as well, but he was still weak from the stirge attack earlier in the day.

Pyro and I sprang into action. We pushed Corian out of the way and grabbed our weapons. Pyro raced for the door. I took up a firing position at the window. Unfortunately, the only targets I had were the skeletons, and a bow isn’t too terribly effective against them.

Then Jackie yelled from the barn. Standing at the edge of the woods across the yard was Vortigern and two half-orcs. They had pretty good cover behind the bushes, but Jackie and I opened up on them anyway. Jackie’s higher vantage point in the hayloft gave him a more effective firing position and he started filling the half-orcs with crossbow bolts.

At the gravesite, Jeb and the dwarves were holding there own. Even in his weakened condition, Shuglin was dancing around like a teenage girl at a barn dance. So far, the skeletons hadn’t laid a finger bone on him. Unfortunately, the three of them hadn’t touched the skeletons, either.

As Pyro joined them, Ostler drew out his holy symbol and began praying to Kord. I could only assume he was trying to turn the skeletons. He raised his hand toward them and concentrated really hard. Nothing happened. The skeletons continued to flail away at them.

Jackie and I continued to pepper Vort and his half-orc buddies with arrows and bolts. Their cover rendered my shots ineffective and I didn’t hit a damn thing. Jackie, however, was lighting the half-orcs up pretty good. When one of them eventually dropped, the other one decided he’d had enough and bolted into the woods. Vortigern was alone, except for his big-ass raven familiar.

Ostler tried again to turn the skeletons. Again he failed. Pyro, Jeb and Shuglin continued to swing away, but the skeletons were difficult to hit. Then I caught a glimpse of sunlight shining off of something in Jeb’s pack, which was lying on the ground near his feet. It was the Amulet that we had relieved Corian of earlier. Vort noticed it, too. He pointed at it and his raven took off.

Jeb saw the raven coming and grabbed the amulet just as the bird reached it. The bird, which was much larger than a normal raven, latched onto the amulet and the two of them began struggling over it. The bird must have been incredibly strong, because Jeb was obviously having trouble holding on. Suddenly, the raven changed. It was no longer a bird, but a bat winged creature. It was an imp. That wasn’t a good sign.

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 5 - The Farmhouse Of Death, Part 2

--- From The Journal Of Knuptar---

Oblivious to the struggle for the amulet, Pyro and Shuglin continued swinging away at the skeletons. I don’t know how Shuglin had managed to avoid being hit so far. He was a true testament of the dwarven spirit. Ostler took a deep breath and raised his holy symbol once more. At the top of his lungs, he yelled for Kord to grant him the strength to turn the undead abominations.

This time, Kord was listening. The skeletons turned and moved away from Ostler as quickly as they could. Pyro and Shuglin let them go and turned their attention to the imp, which was still struggling over the amulet with Jeb. The little bugger was tough. Most of their blows just bounced off of it. I decided it was time for a new viewpoint, so I moved to the doorway.

With only Vort and his imp remaining, Jackie decided that the hayloft was no longer where he wanted to be. Calling on all of his monk training, he leapt from the loft doorway, did a somersault in mid-air and landed lightly on the ground. Show off. He readied his crossbow again, keeping his eye on Vort. Rumblethorn and Brush came out of the barn as well. Everyone began to converge on Jeb and the imp.

Now Corian decided to get involved. He stepped out of the doorway and fired off an Acid Arrow at Vort. It didn’t seem to phase Vort much, but he returned the favor. One quick Magic Missile to the chest and Corian was laying on the ground unconscious. I guess he hadn’t completely recovered from us trying to kill him a couple of days earlier.

I decided it was time to take the fight to Vort. I ran out of the house and tried to tackle him. Of course, from that distance, he easily saw me coming and stepped aside. On the plus side, Ostler and the wolf arrived at about the same time. Vort responded by disappearing, leaving us flailing helplessly at the now empty air.

The imp, meanwhile, finally managed to wrest the amulet from Jeb and took off, heading toward the woods. Fortunately for us, the imp wasn’t too bright. It didn’t gain much altitude and its flight path took it past those of us who had been fighting Vort. We all moved to grab a hold of it. Pyro managed to grab a leg and pulled the imp down so he could hold onto it with all his might. I grabbed on as well. Hopefully, the two of us could hold on while everyone else beat the snot out of it.

Rumblethorn cast Entangle into the woods. Since the spell had a fairly wide radius, not to mention a huge area of effect, he figured it might still entangle Vort, who wasn't likely to be far away. At the least, it might block any straight approach he had to where we were trying to beat on his imp.

Even holding it down, our attacks against the imp were rather ineffectual, thanks to its tough hide and other worldly nature. We spent several minutes struggling with, and beating on, the imp. Then Vort made his presence known again. He cast Daze at Pyro. This stunned the big lug for a few seconds. It was a good thing I still had a grip on the creature.

Jeb spotted Vort at the edge of the woods, maybe 50 feet away. He realized at this point (or perhaps he already knew) that he was carrying a magic short sword which might be able to pierce the imp’s demon hide. Jeb dropped the sword on the ground next to Pyro and moved to bring Vort into crossbow range. Pyro picked up the sword. Shuglin turned his attention to Vort and fired off a Sleep spell. Vort shook it off.

Then the imp broke free. It had struggled, slapped and clawed enough that I just couldn’t hold on any longer and it slipped out of my grasp. This time, it turned invisible and, we assumed, began to fly away. In desperation, we all started swinging at thin air. The gods were smiling on us. Someone managed to hit it. With a thud, it reappeared as it hit the ground unconscious.

Suddenly, everything went completely black. Vort had cast Darkness, centered on the imp's body. That left Jeb, Rumblethorn and Shuglin, who were outside the area of effect, to face Vort. Those of us who had been around the imp dropped to the ground and began feeling around for the amulet.

Rumblethorn ran over and cast Cure Light Wounds on Corian in the hope that he might have some spells to use against Vort. Meanwhile, Jeb took another shot at Vort but missed. Shuglin moved around the edge of the darkness until he could see Vort and let loose with his final Sleep spell. This time, Vort didn’t shake it off and down he went. Leaving no time for debate or discussion, Jeb ran over and slit Vort's throat. Once the Darkness cleared, we recovered the amulet. We also made sure that the imp was quite dead as well.

Then the looting and pillaging began...

We gathered up everything of value from the dead bodies and put it in a pile. Corian cast Detect Magic and we picked out the magic items, which amounted to a ring, a vial of some liquid, the amulet, and the rusty short sword from over the fireplace in the farmhouse. We packed everything away and went back to prepping the house for our night’s stay.

In the morning, we resumed our journey to Fairhill.

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 6 - Fairhill

---From The Journal Of Knuptar---

As we packed to resume our trip to Fairhill, we realized that we were accumulating more stuff than we could comfortably carry. Someone suggested that we use the draft horse and wagon in the barn. Nobody was using them now and the horse was likely to die if we just left it. It sounded like a great idea. We named the horse Pilsner and hitched it to the wagon.

Since Corian had proven himself somewhat useful in the fight against Vortigern, Jeb relented and gave back his crossbow and a handful of bolts. Jeb kept the amulet for safekeeping, though. We didn’t trust Corian that much. With everything loaded on the wagon, we hit the road and left the farmhouse behind.

The rest of the trip to Fairhill was uneventful and we pulled into town just after mid-day. Of course, our first task was to locate a tavern. We stopped one of the locals on our way into town and asked him where one might be. Fairhill must have been a swinging town, because there were three such places: The Three Kegs, the Cask & Flagon and the Drunken Cockatrice.

We thought it best to make the rounds. The first tavern we found was the Three Kegs. We found a table near the door and sat down. When the serving girl came to our table, Pyro’s jaw hit the floor. He was in love. To his credit, she was very attractive, but she was also a halfling. We tried to tell him it wouldn’t work out, but he would not be deterred. He began flirting. Sadly, his people skills aren’t all that good. She was gracious and polite, but she wasn’t interested. Just as we had predicted.

We pumped the clientele for information about the area. Mostly we got crop reports and weather predictions, but there were also a few vague rumors that sounded promising. We tore Pyro away from his new love and moved to the next tavern. That turned out to be the Cask & Flagon. It was a bit more upscale than the Three Kegs, if the word ‘upscale’ could really be used in a podunk little village like Fairhill.

Our discreet inquiries about potential adventuring opportunities, however, met with the same results. Only when we dropped the name ‘Eralion’ did we get more specific wild rumors and speculations. Apparently, his keep was located somewhere in the old forest near town. The townsfolk all agreed that it was occupied by some “shadowy figure”. Most believed it to be a vampire.

Swell.

We moved on to the Drunken Cockatrice. It was definitely the nicest of the three taverns and this time we managed to dig up some solid information. A drunk named Fendrin was rambling on to anybody that would listen (which was mainly us) about a manticore that had killed his wife and son. A couple of quick questions to the barkeep corroborated the missing family, although nobody but Fendrin had seen the manticore. Still, it was a prospect.

We inquired about lodging at the Cockatrice and rented a couple of rooms for the week. With both rumors and lodging secured, Pyro, Jeb, Corian and I felt it was time to explore the town. The rest of the group wanted to stay at the tavern and rest. Wimps.

Fairhill was fairly average for a village its size. There were several rows of shops and houses arrayed in a semi circle around a common marketplace area. Opposite the main town area was a small stone tower on a small hill. It was obviously the seat of power. Down a short path to the north of the tower was another, smaller hill which contained several small shrines to various gods. The largest of these was the shrine to Freya, a fertility goddess of the nearby barbarian countries that I had never heard of. She seemed to be quite popular in Ratik and had a large following in Fairhill. And the High Priestess in town was HOT.

Her name was Shandril. She was an elf, which was odd since elves almost always worship elven deities. It just added to her mystique. We had decided to venture over to the temple area to pay our respects to whatever gods happened to have shrines there. We arrived just in time to witness the end of one of Shandril’s sermons.

Sitting on the altar behind her was a large silver bowl covered in strange runes. She picked it up and held it in front of her. Suddenly, she plunged the bowl, and her entire arm, into the flaming brazier that stood beside the altar. She then began to chant in a language that none of us recognized. This went on for a couple of minutes, then she withdrew her arm and the bowl, both unharmed.

We were suitably impressed.

As we walked back towards town, Jeb had an idea. Why not set up shop and try to sell some of our excess baggage in the marketplace? We were skeptical about what we could sell to villagers, but Jeb was insistent. What could it hurt? At the worst he wouldn’t sell anything and we’d still be stuck with the stuff. It was worth a shot. But we also needed to get the rusty short sword from the farmhouse cleaned and repaired, as well as look into getting some armor made. So first it was off to visit the blacksmith.

The blacksmith’s name was Voril and at first he was reluctant to do the job. In fact, he seemed pretty reluctant to do anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t like us, though. It seemed to be more of a depression thing. Of course we asked what was up and he told us. His daughter, Arialle, had recently disappeared. Arialle, it turned out, was quite the local celebrity. She was an excellent singer and could often be found singing at any one of the town’s taverns. And yet she had yearned for a life of adventure.

Don’t they all?

She had apparently run off a week or so earlier and he hadn’t heard from her since. He was, of course, terribly worried. We huddled and talked it over. We told Voril that we would look for his daughter. Rescuing damsels in distress is what we were all about. He was greatly appreciative. So much so, in fact, that he offered to make one of us the best set of full plate mail we had ever seen if we brought her back. In the meantime, he would work on the short sword and the other jobs that we had asked for. We compensated him with a large gem from our stash and went on our way.

Jeb wanted to spend the rest of the day playing merchant in the marketplace, so while he went to get our stuff from the wagon, Pyro and I decided to hit the taverns again and see what we could dig up on Arialle. We learned that she was a popular attraction in and around Fairhill. Everywhere we went, people told us about her fantastic singing voice. She was always a big draw. The barkeeps, however, also told us about her propensity for hanging around with adventurers. Just our luck that she would blow town just before we arrived.

Whenever a group would come into town, she would latch on to them and learn anything she could. A little over a week ago, she had hooked up with a group that agreed to let her accompany them. They left town shortly thereafter, heading north. That was the last anyone had seen of any of them.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Between the drinking and the investigating, we had managed to kill a couple of hours. We went back to the marketplace to see how Jeb was doing. Predictably, he hadn’t sold a damn thing. He decided to pack it in and we went back to the Drunken Cockatrice. The rest of the group was still there, so we filled them in on what we’d learned during the day. Those of us who had talked to Voril decided to leave in the morning to search the area for any signs of Arialle and her friends. The other lazy butt-heads still wanted to rest.

Since everyone seemed to agree that Arialle’s group had gone north, that’s where we decided to start. We went into the wilderness due north of Fairhill and hiked all day. The terrain alternated between low wooded hills and flat grasslands. As we walked, I tried to pick up signs of their passing, but tracks were few and far between and consisted mainly of animal prints. When it began to get dark, we found a small glade and set up camp.

The whole watch system really kind of breaks down a bit when you only have 4 people in camp, but we did the best we could. Pyro took first watch, I took second and Jeb took third. Corian did whatever the hell he wanted. He could have wandered off for all we cared.

So I sat there on my watch in the middle of the night, watching the campfire die out and keeping my ears open. Suddenly, I heard the sound of snapping twigs in the distance. As it got closer, it started to sound more like sticks and limbs than twigs. Whatever was coming our way sounded big. I woke the others and they got up just in time. Four goblins burst into our little clearing, yelling and screaming and waving their little weapons all over the place. Behind them was an ogre.

Jeb and I immediately dropped back and started shooting at the goblins. Pyro drew his sword and charged the ogre. Corian just stood there and did what little he could, being the useless lump of a sorcerer that he was. After a couple of spectacular misses on my part, I was forced to drop my bow and draw my swords. Jeb and I made short work of the goblins after that.

We turned our attention to Pyro and the ogre.

Jeb and I could only look on in amazement at the scene before us. There stood Pyro and the ogre, toe to toe, swinging away at each other. Not hitting, just swinging. We stood dumbfounded for several minutes before we thought about helping Pyro out. We rushed forward and surrounded the ogre. In no time it was on the ground breathing it’s last.

We rifled the bodies for anything of value, then resumed our camping. In the morning, we continued traveling north. Eventually, the ground started to get rockier. We were heading into another area of wooded hills. As we walked, we began to notice a smell so horrific that our noses felt like they would spontaneously combust. Then came the crunching noise, followed immediately by the tree falling onto the path in front of us.

When the dust cleared, we saw the owlbear standing in front of us. Its chest was covered with fresh blood and it held the remains of a recently deceased deer in its paws. It looked at us for a second, quickly decided that we looked much more appetizing, and charged.

Pyro drew his sword and met the owlbear halfway. Jeb and I spread out on either side and started taking pot shots. And Corian… well, he was Corian. We didn’t pay too much attention to him.

Things went well for the first minute or two. Jeb and I got a couple of good shots in and Pyro managed to land a blow or two. Unfortunately, it only seemed to make the thing mad. Suddenly, it lunged forward, wrapped its arms around Pyro in a big owlbear hug and started squeezing. All Pyro could do was let out a muffled “hunh” as the beast slowly tried to crush the life out of him. It seemed to be working.

I threw down my bow and drew my swords. Jeb moved in closer, still shooting. He was so close, in fact, that he was almost standing right next to the damn thing. The owlbear was focused on Pyro, however, and seemed oblivious to the damage we had begun to inflict on it. Then it threw its head back, gave a loud, gurgling roar and fell to the ground, dead. Even in death it maintained it’s grip on Pyro and it fell on top of him.

It took a few minutes, but we finally managed to drag Pyro out from under the beast. He was alive and relatively undamaged, but very, very sore, not to mention smelly. Well, more so than usual, anyway. We took a moment to catch our breath, then explored the area. It didn’t take us long to locate the owlbear’s lair.

It was an abandoned house, only a few hundred feet away. Near the house was a small cluster of old graves. We managed to tolerate the stench long enough to give what was left of the house a quick once over. There didn’t appear to be anything of value, but more importantly there was no indication that any of the owlbear’s recent victims had been human. We opted to leave the graves undisturbed.

We were only two days out of Fairhill and we had already been hard pressed fighting two large, tough opponents. If the ogre and the owlbear were any indication of the things roaming the wilderness around the village, then it was a good thing we had arrived in town. These people obviously needed our protection.

Even though we had yet to find any sign of Arialle or her friends, we decided to return to Fairhill to regroup and maybe talk some of the others into joining us.

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 7 - Jackie and the Ogre, Part 1

We returned to Fairhill and managed to track down Jackie, Rumblethorn and Shuglin. Ostler was nowhere to be found. We regaled them with the tale of our failed attempt to locate the blacksmith’s daughter and then decided to head to one of the local eateries for a good hot meal. Except for Pyro, who just wanted to lie down and recover from his encounter with the owlbear.
_
It’s always good to have a nice, hot meal after a few days in the wild and the fare at the Drunken Cockatrice was no exception. Afterwards, we were just settling in for some nice quiet conversation, when we heard a commotion outside. One of the Fairhillites ran in and announced that the shrines were on fire. Our curiosity got the better of us and we went outside to have a look.

Sure enough, an orange glow filled the evening sky in the direction of the temples. As we approached, we noticed Shandril and Arlen (the mayor) talking urgently. Several members of the village guard also stood nearby. I went over to get some information and offer my services. The rest of the group followed close behind.

Shandril explained that a band of orcs had come out of the woods near the shrines, set fire to them and stolen the Crucible. She was pretty sure they were headed towards the ruined keep located several miles northeast of town. She and Arlen were in the process of assembling a group of guards to go after them.
We quickly volunteered to go. Orcs, ruined keeps and recovered treasure. That was what we were all about. Besides, the keep in question was the same one that reportedly had belonged to Corian’s buddy, Eralion the wanna-be lich, so it was already high on our list of places to check out.

“Count me in, too,” said a voice from behind us.

We turned to see who had spoken. It was a tall, thin man dressed in dark clothes. He wore a holy symbol around his neck.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked.

“My name’s Peshal. I was in the tavern just now. I’d like to help”, he said.
_
“But you’re a priest of Wee Jas!”

“Hey, we’re not all bad…”

We mulled it over and decided what the hell. Ostler wasn’t around and we needed somebody to do the healing.

Arlen wasn’t big on the idea of “outsiders” going to recover his town’s holy relic, but Shandril talked him into it. She obviously recognized our potential. He still felt the need to assign three of the town guard to lead us to the keep. No doubt they would also have orders to “take care” of us should we turn out to be untrustworthy.

Laurial, Jarinor and Hathol were their names. Like Shandril, Laurial, the sergeant in charge, was another elven follower of Freya. She also seemed particularly displeased at the idea of us going on the mission. No doubt she felt threatened by the obvious aura of confidence and success that we projected.

Since the orcs had been on horseback, Shandril provided us with mounts of our own. She even said we could keep them if we succeeded in returning the Crucible. Then she drew her longsword and held it out to me.

“This is Valkyria,” she said. “You won’t be able to make use of all that it can do, but it will help you in what is to come. Return it to me when you’re finished.”

Yes! It appeared that all the time I’d spent chatting her up was finally paying off!

I accepted graciously, of course, and strapped Valkyria on in place of my own longsword. Then we quickly gathered up what equipment we needed and went off in hot pursuit of the dastardly orcs. Laurial and her friends led the way.

Jarinor and Hathol seemed like decent enough people. They were just doing their jobs. Laurial, however, definitely had an attitude problem. She refused to offer any helpful suggestions or useful information and openly scoffed at practically everything we did.

A couple hours out of town, the road crossed a wide stream via an old stone bridge. It wasn’t a particularly big stone bridge, but the opposite side was wooded and overgrown with bushes. It was the perfect place for an ambush. We stopped and debated the possibilities for a long time. I mean a really long time. But better cautious than dead, I think.

While we debated, Laurial sat on her horse, rolling her eyes and refusing to offer her own suggestions or advice. Eventually Shuglin, in typical dwarven fashion, grew tired of all the talk and walked across the bridge. He examined the area for a minute and then yelled back that there was no ambush. Laurial shook her head and rode on. She’d change her tune once she saw how impressive we were in combat.

As we rode, I kept my eye on the path. It was obvious that the orcs had gone this way. They had made no effort to hide their tracks and obviously didn’t consider the Fairhillians to be much of a threat. Eventually, we reached a place where both the path and the tracks split. Branching off to the left was a smaller, less traveled path. The tracks indicated that several of the orcs had dismounted and gone down this side path on foot. The horses had continued down the main path.

We halted and I jumped off my horse to get a closer look at all the tracks. It seemed apparent to me that all of the horses but one had been rider free and had probably been led down the main path as a diversion. Immediately, the debate began.

Some of us wanted to follow the orcs who were now on foot. We would be able to gain ground on them quickly and they most likely had the Crucible. Laurial, on the other hand, insisted that the main path was the fastest way to the keep and we might be able to get there first and ambush the orcs when they arrived. In the end we chose to follow the main path.

It was the wrong choice. The main path ended up being so overgrown that we ultimately had to dismount and lead the horses on foot for the remainder of the journey, which ended up being several hours. Strike one for Laurial. Once we reached the keep, there was no doubt in our minds that the orcs had arrived well ahead of us. The sounds of their partying could be heard, albeit faintly, from where we stood.

We halted at the edge of the woods and secured the horses out of view, then we took in the keep and its surroundings. It was located in a clearing and we couldn’t see any place where the woods got close enough for us to make a stealthy approach. The keep itself was in need of repair. We could see where the walls had cracks and the towers were beginning to crumble, but for the most part, the place appeared to be intact. At least from our vantage point.

The orc celebration sounded like it was going on in the back of the place, so we decided that the wall in front of us, which included the main gate, would be our best bet. At this point, Laurial informed us that she would not be going. Neither would Jarinor and Hathol. They would guard the horses and come to our rescue if we needed them. Yeah, that sounded about right…

Jeb and Jackie moved forward to scout the place out. They quietly made their way to the front gate and gave it a quick once over. Whether it was locked or simply rusted shut, I don’t know. Either way, it wasn’t moving. They crept along the wall toward the corner towers, one in each direction.

Before either of them had made it halfway, Shuglin got up from where we were watching and walked to the main gate. He made no effort to be quiet about it, he just went. When he reached the gate, he looked it over quickly then went over to Jeb and told him there was a door in the tower on the right. Next he walked over to Jackie and told him the same thing. Finally, he came back across the open area between the keep and the woods and returned to our hiding place.

All we could do was look at him in stunned silence. Jeb and Jackie returned and told us that they had seen no sign of guards on the wall, which Shuglin’s stroll had pretty much confirmed. We made our way around to the tower with the door.

Of course the door was locked, but Jeb made short work of it and soon we were inside. The room was round and the floor above us had partially collapsed. The most interesting aspect, however, was the greenish brown gunk that occupied the center of the floor. It definitely wasn’t a rug and it didn’t look like any form of plant growth. It just didn’t look right. Plus there was a very obvious path cleared along the wall all the way around it.

Still, Rumblethorn felt the need to test it. He jabbed the end of his quarterstaff into it. When he pulled it out, the gunk that was stuck to the end began eating through the staff. It was green slime. Rumblethorn didn’t know what to do. He began waving it around, showing everyone what was happening. With about half of the staff now gone, Shuglin grabbed it, sliced it in two with his axe, and kicked what was left of the eaten part back into the slime. He then handed Rumblethorn his new eighth-staff and announced that he was going back to the horses to keep an eye on Laurial and her cohorts.

Dwarves. Go figure.

We made our way around the slime without further incident and approached the door on the far side of the room. It was also locked, but again Jeb made short work of it. We opened it and stepped cautiously through.

We were in the main courtyard. The noises of partying were louder than ever and obviously came from behind the wall across the courtyard from us. From inside, it was easy to see that the back part of the keep was in much worse shape than the front. Through holes in the wall, we could see the dancing glow of several large campfires. At least we knew where most of the enemy was.

We set about locating any guards that might be lurking in our vicinity. Jeb began inching his way down the wall on our right, while Jackie did the same down the one to the left. They did this so slowly that it took several minutes. The rest of the group was content to huddle quietly in the corner until they finished. I, on the other hand, was getting antsy. I decided to follow Jackie down the wall.

I caught up with him just as he reached a stairway leading to the top of the outer wall. We both ascended and took stock of the situation. Looking over the wall, we could see the spot where Laurial and the horses were. They were well out of sight. To our left was the top floor of the green slime tower, on our right, the upper level of the gatehouse. We decided to head that way.

Bow at the ready, I covered Jackie as he opened the door. The room was empty. It was large enough that it provided cover for the entire gate area, complete with murder holes in the floor and two ladders leading down into the guard rooms on either side. Jackie started browsing around. I opted to keep going.

I went out the door on the other side of the gatehouse, onto the next section of wall. I was slowly making my way towards the far tower. I learned later that my companions considered this to be somewhat rash, but I thought it sounded like a good idea at the time. It was fairly obvious that the front part of the keep was empty; why not nip down to the tower just to make sure? If I ran into any trouble, the group would be right there. Or so I thought.

When I reached the tower, I took a moment to look around. I couldn’t see any of the others in the courtyard. They must have still been huddled up over in the corner. Since the gatehouse was blocking my view, I couldn’t tell for certain, although I could make out Jeb still slinking along the far wall.

I opened the door. Layout wise, it looked to be about the same as the tower with the slime in it, the major difference being that the second floor, which I was currently looking at, seemed to be intact. The key word there is “seemed”. I took a step forward and plunged straight through the floor.

Apparently, the section of floor I had fallen through was also the only part holding the remaining floor up since the entire thing collapsed around me. On the plus side, I was saved from any permanent injury I might have received from hitting the floor. On the negative side, I was saved by a giant spider web that stretched across the room. A web occupied by two large spiders. And I was now stuck.

 

[RatPunk]

Chapter 7 - Jackie and the Ogre, Part 2

Most of what happened next was told to me later, since I was otherwise occupied at the time.

It seems that my falling through the floor created such a racket that it alerted the orcs to our presence. Within a matter of seconds, the orcs came flooding out of the back of the keep into the courtyard. They came in two groups, one from a gap in the wall closest to the group (squad 1) and the other from a gap in the wall closest to the tower I was now in (squad 2).

Since they were reacting with no idea of what had made the noise or where it had come from, the orcs were initially unaware of the group. Squad 1 spotted them quickly, but Squad 2 was on the far side of the courtyard. Jeb took advantage of that by using his innate gnomeness and throwing Dancing Lights at a building near Squad 2. They took the bait and stopped to check it out. Squad 1, however, raced into combat with the group.

Squad 1 outnumbered the party by 2 to 1, but that didn’t deter my comrades from going all out. Rumblethorn and Corian began chucking spells and taking up defensive positions while Jackie and the wolf waded into the thick of battle. Peshal stayed toward the back in case anyone needed healing. The orcs had missed Jeb completely. He had been hiding in the shadows next to a building and they had gone past him without so much as a glance in his direction.

Realizing that he would quickly get crushed in the onslaught, Jeb decided to take a quick jaunt to where the orcs had come from to see if he could locate the Crucible. Fortunately, he hesitated for just a second. Had he left his hiding place immediately, he would have come face to knee with an unexpected friend of the orcs. It was an ogre. And it had decided to come out and play.

While all this was going on, I was struggling to break free of the spider webs. They were strong and pure physical strength hadn’t done me any good. To make matters worse, the spiders were beginning to move towards me. It was becoming imperative that I free one of my weapons. Valkyria was out of the question, since it was too long to draw in my restricted condition. It had to be the short sword.

I struggled for what seemed like an eternity and was finally able to work the sword free of its scabbard. Not a moment too soon. The first spider came at me quickly. I swung the sword around and pierced it through the side. It slid off the blade and landed on the floor below with a wet thud. The other spider slowed a bit, allowing me time to take a whack at the webbing. It cut the strand, but didn’t go through. This was going to take awhile.

Back in the courtyard, things were beginning to look more desperate. The group had done a pretty good job of taking out most of the orcs, with only the leader of Squad 1 (a particularly tough and nasty orc) and a couple of his buddies left. Squad 2, however, had finished checking out Jeb’s Dancing Lights and now raced across the courtyard to get in on the action. They had also split up, with some of them ascending the wall to come at the party from behind. And, of course, there was the ogre.

The ogre had waded in and started swinging with his club. Peshal and the wolf were tied up with the orc leader. Rumblethorn and Corian were busy trying not to get hit by either the remaining orcs or the ogre. Jeb was several feet away trying to pepper the orcs with bolts from his crossbow. Jackie decided the ogre was up to him.

He tumbled over and gave the ogre a couple of fists in the leg. That only seemed to piss the beast off, so Jackie tumbled away before he got smashed. He could see only one way out. He had to get face to face. He ran up the stairs to the top of the wall. The ogre followed him, just as Jackie had hoped. With a running jump, Jackie leapt onto the ogre’s shoulder.

Jackie refused to discuss what happened next, but everyone else gave me explicit details. Since their stories were exactly the same, I’ve accepted them as the truth.

When he landed, Jackie gave the ogre a quick fist to the nose, followed by another shot to the head. Then everyone, including the orcs, seemed to pause for a second to take in the sight before them. There stood Jackie on top of the ogre. He had one hand on top of its head as he slapped it repeatedly in the face with the other, all the while thrusting his hips forward and back, yelling, “Who’s your daddy?! Who’s your daddy?!” at the top of his lungs.

I could hear the resulting silence from where I was. I only wish I could have seen it.

The ogre recovered it’s composure and tried to swat at Jackie, but the little monk came to his senses and tumbled off of the creature’s head (a nice double somersault to the ground, from what I’m told). He then spun around, grabbed the back of the ogre’s knee with both hands and pulled in opposite directions. There was a sickening ripping and cracking noise as Jackie pulled the ogre’s kneecap out from behind. The mighty ogre crumpled to the ground, dead and humiliated by a halfling.

Everyone was stunned by the spectacle that had just unfolded. The orcs, however, continued their attack, although undoubtedly with a newfound respect for Jackie. It was about this time that the second squad of orcs arrived on the scene.

Peshal had run to the top of the wall to try and hold the gatehouse door against the orcs who had split off in an attempt to outflank the group. Jackie turned his attention to the leader of the squad that had just arrived, Jeb continued to fire bolts into the orcs and Brush ran to and fro getting bites in wherever she could. Rumblethorn and Corian, however, weren’t doing so well. They had done their best to avoid being hit, but they looked much the worse for wear. The arrival of the second squad did not bode well for them. In a brief fit of panic, Rumblethorn unleashed a spell.

In the meantime, my efforts had started to pay off. In franticly flailing the short sword around, I had not only managed to off the other spider, but I had partially freed myself as well. With the spiders no longer distracting me, it only took a moment more for me to cut the last of the strands and drop to the floor. Now to see what all the commotion was outside…

I threw open the door and stepped outside, both swords at the ready. The far end of the courtyard was covered in a thick fog from Rumblethorn’s Obscuring Mist spell and all I could make out were vague shapes near the edge. One of those shapes was very obviously Jackie. Another was the rather large orc he was paired up against. I started to head that way.

Suddenly, I saw Jackie fall to the ground. I knew the orc hadn’t hit him, since it still held its axe over its head. Then I noticed that a couple of the other orcs near the edge of the mist had dropped suddenly as well. Rumblethorn had followed up his Mist with a Sleep spell. At a dead run, I reached Jackie in seconds. I slapped him lightly but firmly with the flat of Valkyria as I went by and blocked the orc’s axe swing with my short sword. The tap was enough to wake Jackie from his magical slumber and he leapt back to his feet.

We squared off against the orc leader. He was big and tough and wielded a nasty double axe. He even launched into some kind of barbarian like rage, which made him almost unstoppable. Almost. Working together, Jackie and I managed to keep him off balance and, eventually, we brought him down. There was no time to rest. We split up and began moving from orc to orc, hacking, slashing, punching and kicking as we went.

Then came the gurgling yell from Rumblethorn over by the wall. I worked my way towards him. The mist was starting to clear a bit and I could make out Rumblethorn’s body lying on the ground, with Corian standing wearily near by. Brush had reached the area before me and taken care of the orc that had dropped Rumblethorn.

As I turned back to the remaining orcs, Peshal come running out of the fog. He knelt beside Rumblethorn, put his hands on him and a second latter Rumblethorn staggered to his feet. He was right. I guess some priests of Wee Jas weren’t all bad. But if Peshal was down here, who was guarding the gatehouse door? I sprinted for the stairs.

I needn’t have worried. Jackie was already there. There were a couple of dead orcs on the other side of the door, and two more trying to get through. Again, Jackie and I hacked and punched away. Within moments, the door was secured once more. Another gurgling cry came from the courtyard, this time closer to the stairs. We raced back.

It was Corian. By the time I reached the stairs, Brush had once again taken care of the offending orc and Rumblethorn was bandaging Corian’s wounds. I ran down the stairs and into the courtyard as Rumblethorn picked Corian up (as best he could) and headed towards the slime room.

The mist had now dispersed enough for us to see reasonably well. Only a handful of orcs remained. Jeb had finally dropped his crossbow and waded in. Peshal was holding his own against his opponent, but wasn’t doing much damage in return. Jackie, Brush and I were doing reasonably well. Then came that now recognizable sound from behind us. Rumblethorn had fallen once again. It just wasn’t that boy’s day.

Again, Brush took care of the orc and Peshal made with the healing. While he was there, he took care of Corian as well. Both of them struggled to their feet as Peshal and Brush stood guard. They needn’t have worried. The sounds of battle were dying off and the next thing I knew the fight was over. We looked around the courtyard at the extraordinary number of dead orcs, not to mention the ogre. They had outnumbered us almost four to one. Somehow, we had won.

Jeb immediately began searching the bodies, while Jackie ran over to the ogre to claim anything of value as a trophy. The rest of us more or less collapsed where we were, exhausted from the fight. After a few minutes rest, Peshal and Rumblethorn laid what healing they still had on whoever needed it. We continued to be amazed at what we had just accomplished.

Our reverie was interrupted by a creaking noise coming from the direction of the slime room. We struggled to our feet as best we could and prepared for whatever onslaught was about to come. A large figure stepped through the doorway.

It was Pyro.

“Hey guys! Did I miss anything?”