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Adventures in the Eastern Provinces
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 5025906" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Our heroes have seen the <em>fungal rot</em> that Novak can create employed on their enemies. The spores take root in flesh, rotting flesh and weakening muscle. Now it happens to them. </p><p></p><p>An explosive series of movements- our heroes scatter, with several of them rushing towards their erstwhile ally and now betrayer. Coughing and gagging on the thick bloom in the air, Shifty tumbles away from the rest of the party, trying to get some distance to keep himself out of any other area effects that Novak might be able to conjure. </p><p></p><p>Cavemouth charges the traitor. His axe whistles through the air, and Novak jerks back just in time to avoid a lethal blow. Still, Cavemouth manages to wound him, and an instant later a rock- propelled by Sepia’s slingshot- smacks into the side of the villain’s head. He cries out, staggered, and Shar sinks an arrow into his thigh. </p><p></p><p>Novak backs away a little, trying to keep enough distance to take advantage of the enhanced reach that his <em>vine lash</em> gives him. Unfortunately for him, Cavemouth presses forward, cutting Novak over and over with blows that the druid barely avoids. </p><p></p><p>Shifty springs in to flank him. “I knew you were a bad guy!” he cries. “I’m ready for you!” He feints at Novak’s belly; when the druid tries to block it, Shifty sinks a <em>torturous strike</em> hilt-deep in his eye!*</p><p></p><p>Novak topples over with a scream. He cries out, “The Shadow Circle will destroy you all!” Then he spasms once and moves no more. </p><p></p><p>“I knew it,” Shifty repeats. “I knew it!”</p><p></p><p>“Now what?” asks Cavemouth. </p><p></p><p>“We go home,” says Sepia.</p><p></p><p>“No, what about the crystals?”</p><p></p><p>All eyes fix on the hard case holding the strange crystals that is strapped to Novak’s belt. </p><p></p><p>“I guess we take them,” answers Shifty. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>When they open the case and examine the crystals, something makes the hair on the back of their necks stand up. Their skin crawls. The very presence of the strange stones seems to provoke an uncomfortable mild nausea.</p><p></p><p>“We shouldn’t hold onto these for too long,” Sepia opines. “I can talk to my fence and see if we can sell them.”</p><p></p><p>“They aren’t supposed to fall into the wrong hands. We should be careful getting rid of them.” Shifty frowns. “On the other hand, we probably don’t really want to keep them for very long, either.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ve got a solution to that,” says Karl. “This is the bag that the sneakier cat guy had. It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the inside.” He demonstrates. “I believe that it’s a <em>bag of holding.</em> And that means that we can probably safely store the stones in here.”</p><p></p><p>This excellent idea is quickly executed; even so, the party agrees, they need to figure out what to do with the gems.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The party stops long enough to decide that Karl should hold the bag, and to give the armor that the head cat guy had been wearing to Shifty. It, too, is magical. Then they resume traveling outward, away from the center of Burnt Field, back towards home. A day and a half of slogging through ashen drifts and moving through the ghostly burnt stakes of the dead forest leads them at last to the road; one more day sees them home to Overland.</p><p></p><p>The question of the strange jewels remains, however. After some discussion over a couple of tankards of ale at the Silver Fish, the party decides that they must be very discrete when trying to get rid of them, but get rid of them they should.</p><p></p><p>To that end, Sepia contacts her fence, Wilcox. She dances around the subject perhaps too well, asking him if he has seen or heard of anything unusual lately.</p><p></p><p>”What kind of unusual?” he asks.</p><p></p><p>”You know, unusual items, gems, things like that.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean by ‘unusual?’ I see a lot of gems...”</p><p></p><p>“Something with, uh, unique properties... maybe some kind of powers.”</p><p></p><p>Wilcox squints at her. “I will keep my ear to the ground for you, but I haven’t heard of anything like that recently.”</p><p></p><p>“This would be recent. Well, thanks anyway,” the tiefling says, and leaves. When she reports the details of the conversation to her friends, Shifty groans. </p><p></p><p>“You didn’t learn anything, get a value on the gems, or... or anything!”</p><p></p><p>“Well, at least he doesn’t know that we have the gems,” she counters.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Cavemouth, meanwhile, goes to the local smith and drops his axe off for repairs. (It was damaged when he attempted to cut the strange silvery material in the central crater in Burnt Field.) </p><p></p><p>“I should have this ready for you by the day after tomorrow,” the smith tells the huge warrior. </p><p></p><p>“Good,” Cavemouth responds. “Do you have a loaner or something that I can use in the meantime?”</p><p></p><p>The smith cocks an eyebrow at the goliath. “Well,” he drawls, “I could always <em>sell you</em> a second axe, but I don’t loan my work out. It loses a great deal of its value once it has been used.”</p><p></p><p>Grumbling, Cavemouth walks away without an axe. The expense of buying a second one just seems too high for a day’s worth of benefit. So the party instead waits until his axe is ready, drinking and whoring with their newfound wealth. An extra two days is nothing, when you’re flush with gold and have no pressing concerns.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Wilcox’ door swings open. The fence glances up- he is working on a dwarven pebble puzzle- and raises his eyebrows. “Haven’t seen you in town before,” he says.</p><p></p><p>Dour-faced like most of his kind, the strange dwarf replies, “I am not from here.”</p><p></p><p>“Right... well, if you have some merchandise that you need to sell, you’ve come to the right place. Of course, I don’t deal in stolen goods, but I am sure that a member of your honorable race would never bring something like that to me anyway, but good business requires that I tell you that up front.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course. But you misunderstand me. I am not here to sell; I am looking for something to buy.”</p><p></p><p>“Ahh, well, look around my shop and feel free to make any inquiries you come up with.”</p><p></p><p>“I do not think,” the dwarf answers, “you have what I want on the shelf. I doubt whether you have it at all. And yet, if it is in your town- if it comes through your town- I suspect that you may become aware of it.”</p><p></p><p>“Now you have me intrigued, sir.”</p><p></p><p>“I am looking for some unusual stones,” the dwarf says.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Cavemouth exclaims, “Good as new!” He takes a few practice swings with the greataxe, cleaving through empty air, then turns a broad smile on the smith. “Well done!”</p><p></p><p>“I always strive to do quality work,” the smith replies. </p><p></p><p>The two clasp forearms and then the goliath returns to the street, where the rest of the party awaits him. “Good as new!” he repeats enthusiastically.</p><p></p><p>“Maybe next time you can avoid trying to cut strange cloth in the first place,” Kane says, needling his friend.</p><p></p><p>“The question is, what do we do now?” asks Karl.</p><p></p><p>“Well, the answer is obvious!” Shifty proclaims. “We only have one paying job on offer right now. We need to go finish off the bullywugs and drive their tribe away from the mud baths, and then Bylla will pay us again.”</p><p></p><p>“Good call,” agrees Karl.</p><p></p><p>“Gold is a powerful argument,” nods Kane. </p><p></p><p>The party sets out for the mud baths, walking north out of town. As when they made the journey before, they expect it to be a day and a half worth of walking to reach the place. Linden trees, as well as oak and various types of scrub, dot the land and virtually line the edge of the creek that the trail runs alongside. When the sun’s descent in the west starts to touch the ocean, the party stops to make camp. They set up a nice sheltered area to sleep in, build a small fire and have dinner. </p><p></p><p>Then a voice emerges from the darkness: “May I join you?”</p><p></p><p>The party looks up to see a dwarf in leather armor with brown robes hanging loosely over it. He bears a garlanded staff. </p><p></p><p>“Certainly, rock brother!” Cavemouth says. </p><p></p><p>The dwarf moves up to the edge of the fire and begins to warm his hands. He glances around at all of them, his eyes flinty. “I understand,” the dwarf rumbles, “that you were working with someone named Novak recently.”</p><p></p><p>“Why, is he a friend of yours?” asks Shifty.</p><p></p><p>“And how do you know that?” adds Kane.</p><p></p><p>“You were seen by associates of mine, traveling with him and wearing his black armbands.”</p><p></p><p>“<em>I</em> never wore his armband,” retorts Shifty. “So what’s your relationship with him? Is he one of your friends?” Surreptitiously, the gnome’s hand falls on the hilt of one of his daggers. </p><p></p><p>“Hardly,” the dwarf responds. “And I doubt whether he was a friend of yours, either.”</p><p></p><p>Shifty and Shar exchange a glance. “You’re right about that much,” the elf admits, as Shifty’s hand drops away from the dagger.</p><p></p><p>“What happened to him?” the dwarf asks.</p><p></p><p>“He betrayed us, and now he’s dead,” Shifty states. “I put a dagger in his eye.”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf nods. “Good. And I suspect that you have something that I am interested in taking off of your hands.”</p><p></p><p>“Really? What would that be?” </p><p></p><p>“The crystals.”</p><p></p><p>“Who are you, anyway?” demands Sepia.</p><p></p><p>“I am called Nom,” the dwarf answers. “And I am a druid, opposed to Novak’s faction.”</p><p></p><p>“And what do you know about the crystals?” inquires Shar. </p><p></p><p>“I know that they are very dangerous in the wrong hands. I know that you worked with Novak to retrieve them, and now I believe that you have them. But they are cursed. If you bear them for too long, you will fall under their curse, and eventually it will kill you. Your hair will fall out; your limbs will grow weak; over time, you will grow sores and chancres.”</p><p></p><p>“Yuck,” opines Sepia. </p><p></p><p>“We don’t really want that,” admits Shar. </p><p></p><p>“Give them to me,” Nom says, “and I will ensure that they are properly disposed of.”</p><p></p><p>“How so?” demands Shifty.</p><p></p><p>“To be honest, I don’t know the details myself. But believe me, the alternative is a terrible, slow death.” The dwarf sighs. “I am trying to help you.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, we just had these appraised,” lies Cavemouth, “and we have a very nice offer for them...”</p><p></p><p>“Believe me, you do not want them to fall into the wrong hands,” Nom sighs. “How much are you being offered?”</p><p></p><p>“Five gold for the lot of them.”</p><p></p><p>“I will pay you ten.”</p><p></p><p>“Give us a minute,” Shifty requests. “We have to talk this over.”</p><p></p><p>Nom nods, withdrawing from the fire. Keeping one eye on him- <em>We’ve had enough weird druid issues already!</em>- Shifty and the others discuss the situation. They certainly don’t want to die a terrible cursed death; and Nom doesn’t cause Shifty the same kind of discomfort as Novak had. Over Karl’s vociferous objections, the party agrees to Nom’s deal. Coins from the dwarf go into the party’s pockets, and in return, Karl reluctantly empties the jewels from the <em>bag of holding.</em> Nom takes them gingerly, and the party throws in Novak’s hard case.</p><p></p><p>Gems in the case, case in hand, Nom leaves our heroes to the night. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>When they reach the mud baths, our heroes find a group of bullywugs lounging about as if they own the place- which, at the moment, they effectively do. But with Kane and Cavemouth leading the charge, Shifty and Sepia (with her new brass knuckles, purchased in Grumbleford) right behind them, and Shar and Karl in the back firing arrows and spells, the frog-men are quickly brought low. </p><p></p><p>“We need to find the leader,” states Shar. “Kill him, and the rest will crumple.”</p><p></p><p>“They are cowardly,” acknowledges Kane. “Why, the mere presence of a demon in our ranks might stir them to flight!”**</p><p></p><p>The party backtracks the bullywugs, this time going well past the site of the mudman ambush where they eventually found Bylla held prisoner. The trail leads them deeper into the mud flats, then into an area where the ground slowly drops into a marsh. The trees gradually change into a mix of cypress, willow and other types that like moister ground. Moss hangs in great wet green sheets from scraggly vines. Strange vapors rise from the ground, and puddles become more and more common. Dryer areas of ground are still soggy; our heroes leave visible footprints in many of the areas they traverse. The bullywugs’ tracks are fortunately equally easy to follow.</p><p></p><p>Soon a fog rises up, thickening the deeper the group goes into the swamp. The daylight seems to wane; whether it is oncoming night or simply an artifact of the fog is impossible to tell. </p><p></p><p>Then, slowly resolving from the mist, the party sees a few crude huts. Outside of them- bullywugs!</p><p></p><p>“We have found what we seek,” announces Kane, and he charges.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Dude, where’s my cow?</p><p></p><p></p><p>*Critical hit with combat advantage... this did something like 27 points of damage in one fell swoop.</p><p></p><p>**Kane, of course, constantly refers to the tiefling Sepia as a ‘demon’, despite her protestations.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 5025906, member: 1210"] Our heroes have seen the [i]fungal rot[/i] that Novak can create employed on their enemies. The spores take root in flesh, rotting flesh and weakening muscle. Now it happens to them. An explosive series of movements- our heroes scatter, with several of them rushing towards their erstwhile ally and now betrayer. Coughing and gagging on the thick bloom in the air, Shifty tumbles away from the rest of the party, trying to get some distance to keep himself out of any other area effects that Novak might be able to conjure. Cavemouth charges the traitor. His axe whistles through the air, and Novak jerks back just in time to avoid a lethal blow. Still, Cavemouth manages to wound him, and an instant later a rock- propelled by Sepia’s slingshot- smacks into the side of the villain’s head. He cries out, staggered, and Shar sinks an arrow into his thigh. Novak backs away a little, trying to keep enough distance to take advantage of the enhanced reach that his [i]vine lash[/i] gives him. Unfortunately for him, Cavemouth presses forward, cutting Novak over and over with blows that the druid barely avoids. Shifty springs in to flank him. “I knew you were a bad guy!” he cries. “I’m ready for you!” He feints at Novak’s belly; when the druid tries to block it, Shifty sinks a [i]torturous strike[/i] hilt-deep in his eye!* Novak topples over with a scream. He cries out, “The Shadow Circle will destroy you all!” Then he spasms once and moves no more. “I knew it,” Shifty repeats. “I knew it!” “Now what?” asks Cavemouth. “We go home,” says Sepia. “No, what about the crystals?” All eyes fix on the hard case holding the strange crystals that is strapped to Novak’s belt. “I guess we take them,” answers Shifty. *** When they open the case and examine the crystals, something makes the hair on the back of their necks stand up. Their skin crawls. The very presence of the strange stones seems to provoke an uncomfortable mild nausea. “We shouldn’t hold onto these for too long,” Sepia opines. “I can talk to my fence and see if we can sell them.” “They aren’t supposed to fall into the wrong hands. We should be careful getting rid of them.” Shifty frowns. “On the other hand, we probably don’t really want to keep them for very long, either.” “I’ve got a solution to that,” says Karl. “This is the bag that the sneakier cat guy had. It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the inside.” He demonstrates. “I believe that it’s a [i]bag of holding.[/i] And that means that we can probably safely store the stones in here.” This excellent idea is quickly executed; even so, the party agrees, they need to figure out what to do with the gems. *** The party stops long enough to decide that Karl should hold the bag, and to give the armor that the head cat guy had been wearing to Shifty. It, too, is magical. Then they resume traveling outward, away from the center of Burnt Field, back towards home. A day and a half of slogging through ashen drifts and moving through the ghostly burnt stakes of the dead forest leads them at last to the road; one more day sees them home to Overland. The question of the strange jewels remains, however. After some discussion over a couple of tankards of ale at the Silver Fish, the party decides that they must be very discrete when trying to get rid of them, but get rid of them they should. To that end, Sepia contacts her fence, Wilcox. She dances around the subject perhaps too well, asking him if he has seen or heard of anything unusual lately. ”What kind of unusual?” he asks. ”You know, unusual items, gems, things like that.” “What do you mean by ‘unusual?’ I see a lot of gems...” “Something with, uh, unique properties... maybe some kind of powers.” Wilcox squints at her. “I will keep my ear to the ground for you, but I haven’t heard of anything like that recently.” “This would be recent. Well, thanks anyway,” the tiefling says, and leaves. When she reports the details of the conversation to her friends, Shifty groans. “You didn’t learn anything, get a value on the gems, or... or anything!” “Well, at least he doesn’t know that we have the gems,” she counters. *** Cavemouth, meanwhile, goes to the local smith and drops his axe off for repairs. (It was damaged when he attempted to cut the strange silvery material in the central crater in Burnt Field.) “I should have this ready for you by the day after tomorrow,” the smith tells the huge warrior. “Good,” Cavemouth responds. “Do you have a loaner or something that I can use in the meantime?” The smith cocks an eyebrow at the goliath. “Well,” he drawls, “I could always [i]sell you[/i] a second axe, but I don’t loan my work out. It loses a great deal of its value once it has been used.” Grumbling, Cavemouth walks away without an axe. The expense of buying a second one just seems too high for a day’s worth of benefit. So the party instead waits until his axe is ready, drinking and whoring with their newfound wealth. An extra two days is nothing, when you’re flush with gold and have no pressing concerns. *** Wilcox’ door swings open. The fence glances up- he is working on a dwarven pebble puzzle- and raises his eyebrows. “Haven’t seen you in town before,” he says. Dour-faced like most of his kind, the strange dwarf replies, “I am not from here.” “Right... well, if you have some merchandise that you need to sell, you’ve come to the right place. Of course, I don’t deal in stolen goods, but I am sure that a member of your honorable race would never bring something like that to me anyway, but good business requires that I tell you that up front.” “Of course. But you misunderstand me. I am not here to sell; I am looking for something to buy.” “Ahh, well, look around my shop and feel free to make any inquiries you come up with.” “I do not think,” the dwarf answers, “you have what I want on the shelf. I doubt whether you have it at all. And yet, if it is in your town- if it comes through your town- I suspect that you may become aware of it.” “Now you have me intrigued, sir.” “I am looking for some unusual stones,” the dwarf says. *** Cavemouth exclaims, “Good as new!” He takes a few practice swings with the greataxe, cleaving through empty air, then turns a broad smile on the smith. “Well done!” “I always strive to do quality work,” the smith replies. The two clasp forearms and then the goliath returns to the street, where the rest of the party awaits him. “Good as new!” he repeats enthusiastically. “Maybe next time you can avoid trying to cut strange cloth in the first place,” Kane says, needling his friend. “The question is, what do we do now?” asks Karl. “Well, the answer is obvious!” Shifty proclaims. “We only have one paying job on offer right now. We need to go finish off the bullywugs and drive their tribe away from the mud baths, and then Bylla will pay us again.” “Good call,” agrees Karl. “Gold is a powerful argument,” nods Kane. The party sets out for the mud baths, walking north out of town. As when they made the journey before, they expect it to be a day and a half worth of walking to reach the place. Linden trees, as well as oak and various types of scrub, dot the land and virtually line the edge of the creek that the trail runs alongside. When the sun’s descent in the west starts to touch the ocean, the party stops to make camp. They set up a nice sheltered area to sleep in, build a small fire and have dinner. Then a voice emerges from the darkness: “May I join you?” The party looks up to see a dwarf in leather armor with brown robes hanging loosely over it. He bears a garlanded staff. “Certainly, rock brother!” Cavemouth says. The dwarf moves up to the edge of the fire and begins to warm his hands. He glances around at all of them, his eyes flinty. “I understand,” the dwarf rumbles, “that you were working with someone named Novak recently.” “Why, is he a friend of yours?” asks Shifty. “And how do you know that?” adds Kane. “You were seen by associates of mine, traveling with him and wearing his black armbands.” “[i]I[/i] never wore his armband,” retorts Shifty. “So what’s your relationship with him? Is he one of your friends?” Surreptitiously, the gnome’s hand falls on the hilt of one of his daggers. “Hardly,” the dwarf responds. “And I doubt whether he was a friend of yours, either.” Shifty and Shar exchange a glance. “You’re right about that much,” the elf admits, as Shifty’s hand drops away from the dagger. “What happened to him?” the dwarf asks. “He betrayed us, and now he’s dead,” Shifty states. “I put a dagger in his eye.” The dwarf nods. “Good. And I suspect that you have something that I am interested in taking off of your hands.” “Really? What would that be?” “The crystals.” “Who are you, anyway?” demands Sepia. “I am called Nom,” the dwarf answers. “And I am a druid, opposed to Novak’s faction.” “And what do you know about the crystals?” inquires Shar. “I know that they are very dangerous in the wrong hands. I know that you worked with Novak to retrieve them, and now I believe that you have them. But they are cursed. If you bear them for too long, you will fall under their curse, and eventually it will kill you. Your hair will fall out; your limbs will grow weak; over time, you will grow sores and chancres.” “Yuck,” opines Sepia. “We don’t really want that,” admits Shar. “Give them to me,” Nom says, “and I will ensure that they are properly disposed of.” “How so?” demands Shifty. “To be honest, I don’t know the details myself. But believe me, the alternative is a terrible, slow death.” The dwarf sighs. “I am trying to help you.” “Well, we just had these appraised,” lies Cavemouth, “and we have a very nice offer for them...” “Believe me, you do not want them to fall into the wrong hands,” Nom sighs. “How much are you being offered?” “Five gold for the lot of them.” “I will pay you ten.” “Give us a minute,” Shifty requests. “We have to talk this over.” Nom nods, withdrawing from the fire. Keeping one eye on him- [i]We’ve had enough weird druid issues already![/i]- Shifty and the others discuss the situation. They certainly don’t want to die a terrible cursed death; and Nom doesn’t cause Shifty the same kind of discomfort as Novak had. Over Karl’s vociferous objections, the party agrees to Nom’s deal. Coins from the dwarf go into the party’s pockets, and in return, Karl reluctantly empties the jewels from the [i]bag of holding.[/i] Nom takes them gingerly, and the party throws in Novak’s hard case. Gems in the case, case in hand, Nom leaves our heroes to the night. *** When they reach the mud baths, our heroes find a group of bullywugs lounging about as if they own the place- which, at the moment, they effectively do. But with Kane and Cavemouth leading the charge, Shifty and Sepia (with her new brass knuckles, purchased in Grumbleford) right behind them, and Shar and Karl in the back firing arrows and spells, the frog-men are quickly brought low. “We need to find the leader,” states Shar. “Kill him, and the rest will crumple.” “They are cowardly,” acknowledges Kane. “Why, the mere presence of a demon in our ranks might stir them to flight!”** The party backtracks the bullywugs, this time going well past the site of the mudman ambush where they eventually found Bylla held prisoner. The trail leads them deeper into the mud flats, then into an area where the ground slowly drops into a marsh. The trees gradually change into a mix of cypress, willow and other types that like moister ground. Moss hangs in great wet green sheets from scraggly vines. Strange vapors rise from the ground, and puddles become more and more common. Dryer areas of ground are still soggy; our heroes leave visible footprints in many of the areas they traverse. The bullywugs’ tracks are fortunately equally easy to follow. Soon a fog rises up, thickening the deeper the group goes into the swamp. The daylight seems to wane; whether it is oncoming night or simply an artifact of the fog is impossible to tell. Then, slowly resolving from the mist, the party sees a few crude huts. Outside of them- bullywugs! “We have found what we seek,” announces Kane, and he charges. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Dude, where’s my cow? *Critical hit with combat advantage... this did something like 27 points of damage in one fell swoop. **Kane, of course, constantly refers to the tiefling Sepia as a ‘demon’, despite her protestations. [/QUOTE]
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