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Part the One-Hundred Thirty-Second In which: loose ends are tied, an invitation is made, and the party boggles at their newfound wealth. The party members take a couple of days to rest, recover their strength, and periodically stare at the pile of loot in Petros’ living room with stupid grins...

Part the One-Hundred Thirty-First In which: Lira and Anvil explore Bountiful at night, and we find out what happens to the treasure. Aboveground, the streets are deserted, and—aside from the party’s own movements—absolutely still. The effect would be eerie, except for the memory of what the...

Part the One-Hundred Thirtieth In which: Kiara demonstrates that her dexterity is higher than her diplomacy score. Thatch lands the first blow, Anvil’s magic weapon spell allowing the sword to connect with reassuring force as the Chieftain attempts to glide through one foot of the arch in an...

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Ninth In which... Annika unshrouds her everburning torch. Lira casts light on Euro, ready to send the glowing mustelid to wherever illumination is needed. Reyu—keen eyes unhindered by the dimness—dashes forward to where the corridor widens into a central chamber...

A map The basements of the keep at Bountiful. Update to follow momentarily.

This update is in honor of WisdomLikeSilence on the occasion of her receiving her MBA today. Congratulations! Incidently, this is the fourth Master's degree earned by a member of the group over the course of this campaign, proving that if even if some of us are underemployed, none are...

I voted for 17th, so it wouldn't feel left out.

Hey omrob! And the multi-media extravaganza continues. Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Seventh In which: guess who’s coming to dinner… Petros gives the party a rough description of the inside of the keep, and reiterates his advice not to go during daylight hours. “The skeletons begin their...

How far in advance do you try to schedule? In our game we figured out that we could only really play on weekends, and so towards the end of every month the DM sends out an email listing possible dates for the following month and asking everyone to send back when they are potentially free...

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Sixth In which: let’s make a deal. Although the journal and notebooks are helpful in shedding light on why Petros came to Bountiful, they do not give the party one crucial piece of information. If Petros’s soul is in the gem, how are they going to get to his body...

Consider Yourself Served jonrog1, I am calling you out. (Yes, even in your own thread.) On March 7, in the year 2004, you came and guest starred in a campaign chonicled in this forum known as Welcome to the Halmae. Ten days later, you last updated this story hour. Over the past 15 months...

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Fifth In which: the party embarks upon a little light reading. Lira rounds on Gemil. “You mean Petros is in there, trapped in the gem?” “What’s left of him, I suspect. He put me in there once. Terribly uncomfortable. Can’t see. Can’t talk. What a shame.”...

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Fourth In which: any lingering hopes for Thatch’s efficacy as a rogue are well and truly put to rest. The next morning, the party cautiously ascends the main staircase to explore the upper levels of the tower. On the second floor they find six doors arrayed around...

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Third In which: Alas! Poor Gemil… we didn’t know him at all, but that changes. Lira is the one who finally clears her throat and asks, “Who… who are you?” “Me?” the skull replies. “Gemil al Zaheed, at your service.” “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but are you...

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-Second In which: the party finds that all Guardians are named Cyrus, but not all named Cyrus are Guardians of the Barrier. “What in all hells are you doing!?!” Eva yells after him. “The infidel Petros will be made to suffer for this!” Cyrus declares, reaching for...

18 months and steaming ahead! Whoo!

Part the One-Hundred Twenty-First In which: we finally put an end to the longest tease in the history of this thread. The man raises his head. He is not Anvil. His eyes widen when he sees the party. “You… You must be the friends of the Justicar. He said you would save us! Bless you...

Part the One-Hundred Twentieth Meanwhile, through the looking-glass Anvil feels an awful wrenching in the pit of his stomach and then… he is somewhere else. His clothing, his equipment is all gone, and he stands completely naked inside some kind of dodecahedral room. The walls are mirrors...