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Adventures in the Eastern Provinces
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 5035336" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Cavemouth peers down into the chasm. “Well,” he says, “I can see some ledges down a ways on either side. The highest one- closest to us- is on this side, but the next one down is on the other side.” He squints. “Looks like it narrows on the way down, too.”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s take a look from the other side and see if we can tell anything else,” suggests Shifty. </p><p></p><p>The chasm itself is only 20’ wide and 50’ long, so it takes a minimum of effort to circumnavigate it. Once on the other edge of it, they peer down again, but cannot tell anything new. Karl drops a stone in, and it bounces off the sides and out of view, but the party hears a distant splash from below. </p><p></p><p>“Well,” Cavemouth says, “since it narrows, if I fall, I will stop before I hit bottom, so...” He starts to clamber down. Shar, meanwhile, uncoils a rope and searches around for something to tie it to; she finds a tree not far from the edge of the rift. </p><p></p><p>The goliath finds the descent fairly easy. There are plentiful handholds and cracks that allow his feet purchase. Shortly, he reaches the ledge. From above, Shifty cocks an eyebrow as he sees the warrior draw out his greataxe and rush into some kind of opening with a bellow.</p><p></p><p>“Uh-oh,” the gnome sighs. “We’d better hurry down after him.”</p><p></p><p>The sounds of battle rise up from below, and the party scrambles after their point man, some of them using the rope, some just clambering down the face of the rock wall. Quickly, they reach the small ledge at the bottom and hurry into the cave opening that greets them. </p><p></p><p>Cavemouth, a few dozen feet ahead of them, has already slain several goblins, and more are coming. The passage opens into a chamber; another side passage cuts into it just beforehand. Goblins are starting to rush out to meet the party’s unexpected assault.</p><p></p><p>Charge!</p><p></p><p>Our heroes meet the oncoming enemy without mercy, hewing and blasting their way through. In only a few confused moments, the first wave of goblins has been slain or thrown back. The party quickly strips the dead of valuables, although this proves to be only a handful of silver and gold coins. </p><p></p><p>“Which way?” asks Shar, but the sound of more running feet answers for them as another wave of goblins, these ones looking meaner and tougher, storm forward. One of them has the look of a chief, with fancy tattoos on his arms and face. They rush forward.</p><p></p><p>The ringing of weapons heralds sprays of blood from both sides. The goblins and our heroes stab and cut at each other; Shar and Shifty hang back, shooting arrows and throwing shuriken. Karl, in the rear of the party, casts <em>magic missile</em> after <em>magic missile</em> into the leader. Sepia makes good use of the alchemist’s fire that she had purchased in Grumbleford.</p><p></p><p>After a few exchanges- during which both the party and the goblins suffer about equally- the two sides break apart and halt a few dozen feet away from each other. </p><p></p><p>“What do you want with us?” snarls the goblin chief. </p><p></p><p>Surprised to find a possible parlay, our heroes hesitate long enough for the priestess of the Sword Cult to speak up. “You need to stop your raiding of the road nearby,” she declares. She gestures to the dead goblins scattered about. “If you don’t, you’ll meet the same fate as your tribesfolk.”</p><p></p><p>The goblin chief stares at the party for a moment. “We don’t want any trouble with your kind,” he finally says.</p><p></p><p>”Well, leave the merchants alone and you won’t have any, but if you don’t, we’ll wipe you out,” Shifty threatens. </p><p></p><p>“All right,” the chief shrugs. “No problem. We will leave your merchants alone.” He gives them a nasty smile. “But if you come back, we will kill you.” </p><p></p><p>“Someone will kill someone, that’s for sure,” Sepia retorts, posturing with her brass knuckles. The goblin chief’s bodyguards chuckle ominously. </p><p></p><p>“Go,” the chief snaps, “before I reconsider.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait,” says Sepia. “I want a slave.”</p><p></p><p>The goblin chief spits. “Not one of my folk,” he states flatly. “But we will <em>sell</em> you one of our slaves.”</p><p></p><p>“Really? You have slaves?”</p><p></p><p>“Of course- kobolds.”</p><p></p><p>“All right,” Sepia agrees with a shrug. </p><p></p><p>“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” says Karl from the back, but Sepia ignores his objection and gets down to haggling. In the end, for ten pieces of gold, she obtains a kobold named Yiddy. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Dirty, sweaty and bloody, our heroes return to the top of the chasm. Shifty says, “You know we’re just going to have to come back here and kill them all eventually. They have no intention of leaving off with their banditry.”</p><p></p><p>Shar shrugs. “So be it. When the time comes, we’ll handle them.”</p><p></p><p><em>And get the rest of their loot,</em> the gnome thinks to himself.</p><p></p><p>The party starts towards home, but the hour is late enough that it is already nearly dark when they reach the crossroads, so they decide to camp there again. It is rapidly becoming a home away from home! </p><p></p><p>Since they have a kobold with them now- around whose neck Sepia has tied a rope- they set watches. In the night, Yiddy makes an escape attempt, but is caught; Shifty uses his innate gnomish mastery of illusion to scare the hell out of the little slave, and the poor little fellow spends the rest of the night curled into a quivering ball. Sepia both socks him in the snout and then tries to give him comfort; despite the beating and scare, our heroes suspect that they are treating the kobold far better than the goblins did. At least they feed him their scraps.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>About sixty miles away, as the crow flies, in the camp of the free company known as the Double Javelins, a rider garbed all in black arrives, dismounts and strides quickly through the pickets, recognized by the other mercenaries. When he reaches the tent of the band’s fiercest warrior (and therefore commander), he stops. The flickering of an oil brazier gives away that the commander is awake, so he claps. </p><p></p><p>From within, a grizzled, rumbling voice calls out, “What do you want?”</p><p></p><p>“Captain, it is Dolorous Pete,” the rider says.</p><p></p><p>“Enter,” the commander replies at once. </p><p></p><p>Dolorous Pete pushes the tent’s flap aside and walks in. Thannox, head of the Double Javelins, glares at him. The huge half-orc has one broken tusk on the side of his face that is split by the wide scar of an old axe blow. Even at night, he wears his thick hide armor; it is said that he never sleeps without it, even when he has whores in his bed. Nor, it is said, does he ever sleep without a weapon at hand. Next to his sleeping pallet a brace of javelins lies; next to that, a pouch of deadly poison. Dolorous Pete suppresses a shudder; he has seen what that terrible venom, extracted from the deadly spider called a tarantella, can do to a man.</p><p></p><p>“Well?” Thannox demands. </p><p></p><p>“Dasserc isn’t worth the effort. Not only aren’t there very many people, they don’t even live in houses. The place is a ruin. The folk huddle under lean-tos to stay out of the rain. There isn’t a standing building in the whole place. But Woodcut is a different story. They have good, strong wooden buildings there. A couple of them are even two or three storeys high.”</p><p></p><p>“Wood,” the half-orc says in distaste.</p><p></p><p>“I know, captain. But even so, the town fronts on the Wildwood, so there would be no help for them from the north or west. South is the Troll River, and there is no ford or bridge closer than the ruins of Thrushton. The only trail out leads to Overland, and we can block that easily. Also, there are less than 200 people there. It should be an easy first step.”</p><p></p><p>“Wood burns.”</p><p></p><p>“I know, boss, but we have to start somewhere. And we can make an example of anyone that causes trouble by locking them into a building and lighting it on fire.”</p><p></p><p>“An example,” Thannox rumbles, “that they might take to heart... and try to burn <em>us</em> out.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, sir, it is close enough to the river that a channel could be dug to provide sufficient water to douse any fire.”</p><p></p><p>The half-orc laughs unpleasantly. “Given enough labor,” he says with a smile. </p><p></p><p>“You wanted my opinion as an old military man, sir, and there you have it. Overland is too big; same thing goes for Grumbleford. We take Woodcut first, then press the men into service by threatening their families. Then we recruit everyone in Overland and Grumbleford who has a stomach for fighting and a wish for glory. Once we have them on our side, there is nobody to resist you. After all, nobody has seen the governor or his men in decades. Or any of the Imperial Legions, since they were withdrawn to Chebonnay. And believe me, sir- I was there- those legions are <em>gone.</em> When the Six-Fingered Hand swept down on the city, they destroyed all resistance.”</p><p></p><p>“People have a very short memory,” Thannox says. “They will forget that they were ever part of an Empire. They nearly already have!” He pours two cups of wine and quaffs one, handing the other to Dolorous Pete. </p><p></p><p>“Yes, captain,” Pete answers, drinking his own wine down. “But they will never forget <em>your</em> rule.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The morning sun creeps up out of the distant eastern sea. Our heroes rise, break their fast and camp, and prepare to set out.</p><p></p><p>“You know,” says Shifty, “that chasm isn’t that far from the Governor’s Tower. Maybe we should let them know about it.”</p><p></p><p>“Nobody’s supposed to go there without good reason,” Karl replies. “They say that the governor dislikes being disturbed.”</p><p></p><p>Sepia snorts and gives Yiddy’s leash a yank. “Bandits seem like the kind of thing that the governor would want to know about.”</p><p></p><p>“It is only about 20 miles from here anyway,” Shar says. “And Shifty’s right- that chasm is pretty close, all things considered.” </p><p></p><p>Cavemouth grins. “What the hell, maybe they’ll have a good recipe for some beer.”</p><p></p><p>The party turns north off of the road. The trail leading towards the Governor’s Tower. It is fairly overgrown and obviously doesn’t see much use. It is not too overgrown for them to follow it easily, however, and they tromp up the trail. By late afternoon the tower itself comes into view, surrounded by a low stone wall that also includes a stable, chicken coop and a well.</p><p></p><p>But there is no sign of inhabitants. The coop and stable are empty, and the tower has the look of a place long-abandoned. The gardens are overgrown and untended. </p><p></p><p>”I don’t think anyone has been here in a long time,” says Shar. </p><p></p><p>The party starts poking around. Cavemouth peers into the well and says, “I’m not sure, but I think there’s something down there.” He squints, trying to resolve it, but to no avail.</p><p></p><p>”Let’s send down the kobold,” suggests Shifty. </p><p></p><p>The well has a line with a bucket attached to it; they force poor Yiddy into the bucket and start to lower him down. Almost immediately, he screams in fear. “HELP!” Quickly, the party hoists the trembling, cowardly dog-lizard fellow back up. </p><p></p><p>“What is it, Yiddy?” asks Sepia. </p><p></p><p>“There’s something bony down there!”</p><p></p><p>Everyone takes another look down the dark shaft, but again, nobody can see anything. Cavemouth shrugs. “I’ll climb down,” he offers. </p><p></p><p>“You sure that’s a good idea?”</p><p></p><p>“Of course not,” the goliath grins, “but if the kobold can get in and out, so can I!”</p><p></p><p>The problem with his reasoning becomes apparent immediately: he is <em>huge</em> compared to Yiddy-in-a-bucket. “I don’t see anything,” he grunts up from below, and struggles back to the top. “But then again, I couldn’t really see past my own body,” he adds sheepishly. </p><p></p><p>“I’ll try,” Shifty sighs. His slight gnomish stature is much more suited to penetrating a narrow well; moreover, he will fit in the bucket, like Yiddy did. The party slowly lowers him down the well. “I don’t see anything, either,” he calls to the others.</p><p></p><p>”Here, take another look,” Shar says to Yiddy. She grabs the kobold and drags him to the edge of the well.</p><p></p><p>“Wait!” squeaks the kobold. “I’m scared! Don’t make me!”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, shut up.” Shar hoists the little fellow over the lip of the well and drops him in. A wail, followed by a crash and a splash, mark his progress. </p><p></p><p>“HEY!!” shouts Shifty from below. “You hit me with him!” </p><p></p><p>“Is he all right?” Sepia yells down. “Yiddy!”</p><p></p><p>Shifty’s voice floats back up from below: “...I don’t really think so.” </p><p></p><p>Sepia turns to Shar and glares at him. “You owe me a new slave!”</p><p></p><p>Shar shrugs. “Fair enough.”</p><p></p><p>“There’s nothing down here,” Shifty calls again. “Haul me back up.”</p><p></p><p>A few moments later, with their gnome back on the ground with the rest of them, the party heads into the tower proper. It has three storeys, although the uppermost is twice the height of the lower two; all is abandoned, but there are old foodstuffs- long spoiled- and uniforms in the place. “It doesn’t look like they intended to abandon this place forever,” Karl muses. “They left stuff behind, and there are no signs that they left in a hurry, either. Something must have happened to the governor and his men after they left.”</p><p></p><p>“Look at what I found!” exclaims Sepia. “A sprig of mistletoe!”</p><p></p><p>“That’s a druidic holy symbol,” Karl states. He examines it closely. “It looks to me like it got left here a year or two ago at most, but everything we’ve seen indicates that the governor and his men must have vanished thirty years ago or thereabouts. A druid must have come and looked the place over much more recently.”</p><p></p><p>“I wonder if it’s connected to Novak,” Cavemouth says. </p><p></p><p>“Well, let’s consider this,” Shifty suggests. “Nobody is here. Nobody has <em>been</em> here for decades. There are uniforms, though- and if we wear them, we can claim that we’re the governor’s new men.” He grins. “And who will contradict us? This is perfect! We can <em>be</em> the authorities if we want!”</p><p></p><p>Outside, the shadows have grown long. The sun is setting. Our heroes elect to stay the night in the tower and see if anything interesting happens (it doesn’t), and in the morning they debate their next move.</p><p></p><p>”Next, <em>you</em> need to get <em>me</em> a new slave,” Sepia tells Shar. </p><p></p><p>She shrugs. “Let’s go back to the chasm, then.” </p><p></p><p>“The goblins probably won’t like seeing us.”</p><p></p><p>“Then we kill them,” says Shifty.</p><p></p><p>But upon returning to the chasm, Sepia stops them. “Wait a minute. I forgot- I already used up all my alchemist’s fire. We should go back to Grumbleford first so that I can restock.” So they turn right around.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Our heroes return to Grumbleford, the crossroads and the chasm!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 5035336, member: 1210"] Cavemouth peers down into the chasm. “Well,” he says, “I can see some ledges down a ways on either side. The highest one- closest to us- is on this side, but the next one down is on the other side.” He squints. “Looks like it narrows on the way down, too.” “Let’s take a look from the other side and see if we can tell anything else,” suggests Shifty. The chasm itself is only 20’ wide and 50’ long, so it takes a minimum of effort to circumnavigate it. Once on the other edge of it, they peer down again, but cannot tell anything new. Karl drops a stone in, and it bounces off the sides and out of view, but the party hears a distant splash from below. “Well,” Cavemouth says, “since it narrows, if I fall, I will stop before I hit bottom, so...” He starts to clamber down. Shar, meanwhile, uncoils a rope and searches around for something to tie it to; she finds a tree not far from the edge of the rift. The goliath finds the descent fairly easy. There are plentiful handholds and cracks that allow his feet purchase. Shortly, he reaches the ledge. From above, Shifty cocks an eyebrow as he sees the warrior draw out his greataxe and rush into some kind of opening with a bellow. “Uh-oh,” the gnome sighs. “We’d better hurry down after him.” The sounds of battle rise up from below, and the party scrambles after their point man, some of them using the rope, some just clambering down the face of the rock wall. Quickly, they reach the small ledge at the bottom and hurry into the cave opening that greets them. Cavemouth, a few dozen feet ahead of them, has already slain several goblins, and more are coming. The passage opens into a chamber; another side passage cuts into it just beforehand. Goblins are starting to rush out to meet the party’s unexpected assault. Charge! Our heroes meet the oncoming enemy without mercy, hewing and blasting their way through. In only a few confused moments, the first wave of goblins has been slain or thrown back. The party quickly strips the dead of valuables, although this proves to be only a handful of silver and gold coins. “Which way?” asks Shar, but the sound of more running feet answers for them as another wave of goblins, these ones looking meaner and tougher, storm forward. One of them has the look of a chief, with fancy tattoos on his arms and face. They rush forward. The ringing of weapons heralds sprays of blood from both sides. The goblins and our heroes stab and cut at each other; Shar and Shifty hang back, shooting arrows and throwing shuriken. Karl, in the rear of the party, casts [i]magic missile[/i] after [i]magic missile[/i] into the leader. Sepia makes good use of the alchemist’s fire that she had purchased in Grumbleford. After a few exchanges- during which both the party and the goblins suffer about equally- the two sides break apart and halt a few dozen feet away from each other. “What do you want with us?” snarls the goblin chief. Surprised to find a possible parlay, our heroes hesitate long enough for the priestess of the Sword Cult to speak up. “You need to stop your raiding of the road nearby,” she declares. She gestures to the dead goblins scattered about. “If you don’t, you’ll meet the same fate as your tribesfolk.” The goblin chief stares at the party for a moment. “We don’t want any trouble with your kind,” he finally says. ”Well, leave the merchants alone and you won’t have any, but if you don’t, we’ll wipe you out,” Shifty threatens. “All right,” the chief shrugs. “No problem. We will leave your merchants alone.” He gives them a nasty smile. “But if you come back, we will kill you.” “Someone will kill someone, that’s for sure,” Sepia retorts, posturing with her brass knuckles. The goblin chief’s bodyguards chuckle ominously. “Go,” the chief snaps, “before I reconsider.” “Wait,” says Sepia. “I want a slave.” The goblin chief spits. “Not one of my folk,” he states flatly. “But we will [i]sell[/i] you one of our slaves.” “Really? You have slaves?” “Of course- kobolds.” “All right,” Sepia agrees with a shrug. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” says Karl from the back, but Sepia ignores his objection and gets down to haggling. In the end, for ten pieces of gold, she obtains a kobold named Yiddy. *** Dirty, sweaty and bloody, our heroes return to the top of the chasm. Shifty says, “You know we’re just going to have to come back here and kill them all eventually. They have no intention of leaving off with their banditry.” Shar shrugs. “So be it. When the time comes, we’ll handle them.” [i]And get the rest of their loot,[/i] the gnome thinks to himself. The party starts towards home, but the hour is late enough that it is already nearly dark when they reach the crossroads, so they decide to camp there again. It is rapidly becoming a home away from home! Since they have a kobold with them now- around whose neck Sepia has tied a rope- they set watches. In the night, Yiddy makes an escape attempt, but is caught; Shifty uses his innate gnomish mastery of illusion to scare the hell out of the little slave, and the poor little fellow spends the rest of the night curled into a quivering ball. Sepia both socks him in the snout and then tries to give him comfort; despite the beating and scare, our heroes suspect that they are treating the kobold far better than the goblins did. At least they feed him their scraps. *** About sixty miles away, as the crow flies, in the camp of the free company known as the Double Javelins, a rider garbed all in black arrives, dismounts and strides quickly through the pickets, recognized by the other mercenaries. When he reaches the tent of the band’s fiercest warrior (and therefore commander), he stops. The flickering of an oil brazier gives away that the commander is awake, so he claps. From within, a grizzled, rumbling voice calls out, “What do you want?” “Captain, it is Dolorous Pete,” the rider says. “Enter,” the commander replies at once. Dolorous Pete pushes the tent’s flap aside and walks in. Thannox, head of the Double Javelins, glares at him. The huge half-orc has one broken tusk on the side of his face that is split by the wide scar of an old axe blow. Even at night, he wears his thick hide armor; it is said that he never sleeps without it, even when he has whores in his bed. Nor, it is said, does he ever sleep without a weapon at hand. Next to his sleeping pallet a brace of javelins lies; next to that, a pouch of deadly poison. Dolorous Pete suppresses a shudder; he has seen what that terrible venom, extracted from the deadly spider called a tarantella, can do to a man. “Well?” Thannox demands. “Dasserc isn’t worth the effort. Not only aren’t there very many people, they don’t even live in houses. The place is a ruin. The folk huddle under lean-tos to stay out of the rain. There isn’t a standing building in the whole place. But Woodcut is a different story. They have good, strong wooden buildings there. A couple of them are even two or three storeys high.” “Wood,” the half-orc says in distaste. “I know, captain. But even so, the town fronts on the Wildwood, so there would be no help for them from the north or west. South is the Troll River, and there is no ford or bridge closer than the ruins of Thrushton. The only trail out leads to Overland, and we can block that easily. Also, there are less than 200 people there. It should be an easy first step.” “Wood burns.” “I know, boss, but we have to start somewhere. And we can make an example of anyone that causes trouble by locking them into a building and lighting it on fire.” “An example,” Thannox rumbles, “that they might take to heart... and try to burn [i]us[/i] out.” “Well, sir, it is close enough to the river that a channel could be dug to provide sufficient water to douse any fire.” The half-orc laughs unpleasantly. “Given enough labor,” he says with a smile. “You wanted my opinion as an old military man, sir, and there you have it. Overland is too big; same thing goes for Grumbleford. We take Woodcut first, then press the men into service by threatening their families. Then we recruit everyone in Overland and Grumbleford who has a stomach for fighting and a wish for glory. Once we have them on our side, there is nobody to resist you. After all, nobody has seen the governor or his men in decades. Or any of the Imperial Legions, since they were withdrawn to Chebonnay. And believe me, sir- I was there- those legions are [i]gone.[/i] When the Six-Fingered Hand swept down on the city, they destroyed all resistance.” “People have a very short memory,” Thannox says. “They will forget that they were ever part of an Empire. They nearly already have!” He pours two cups of wine and quaffs one, handing the other to Dolorous Pete. “Yes, captain,” Pete answers, drinking his own wine down. “But they will never forget [i]your[/i] rule.” *** The morning sun creeps up out of the distant eastern sea. Our heroes rise, break their fast and camp, and prepare to set out. “You know,” says Shifty, “that chasm isn’t that far from the Governor’s Tower. Maybe we should let them know about it.” “Nobody’s supposed to go there without good reason,” Karl replies. “They say that the governor dislikes being disturbed.” Sepia snorts and gives Yiddy’s leash a yank. “Bandits seem like the kind of thing that the governor would want to know about.” “It is only about 20 miles from here anyway,” Shar says. “And Shifty’s right- that chasm is pretty close, all things considered.” Cavemouth grins. “What the hell, maybe they’ll have a good recipe for some beer.” The party turns north off of the road. The trail leading towards the Governor’s Tower. It is fairly overgrown and obviously doesn’t see much use. It is not too overgrown for them to follow it easily, however, and they tromp up the trail. By late afternoon the tower itself comes into view, surrounded by a low stone wall that also includes a stable, chicken coop and a well. But there is no sign of inhabitants. The coop and stable are empty, and the tower has the look of a place long-abandoned. The gardens are overgrown and untended. ”I don’t think anyone has been here in a long time,” says Shar. The party starts poking around. Cavemouth peers into the well and says, “I’m not sure, but I think there’s something down there.” He squints, trying to resolve it, but to no avail. ”Let’s send down the kobold,” suggests Shifty. The well has a line with a bucket attached to it; they force poor Yiddy into the bucket and start to lower him down. Almost immediately, he screams in fear. “HELP!” Quickly, the party hoists the trembling, cowardly dog-lizard fellow back up. “What is it, Yiddy?” asks Sepia. “There’s something bony down there!” Everyone takes another look down the dark shaft, but again, nobody can see anything. Cavemouth shrugs. “I’ll climb down,” he offers. “You sure that’s a good idea?” “Of course not,” the goliath grins, “but if the kobold can get in and out, so can I!” The problem with his reasoning becomes apparent immediately: he is [i]huge[/i] compared to Yiddy-in-a-bucket. “I don’t see anything,” he grunts up from below, and struggles back to the top. “But then again, I couldn’t really see past my own body,” he adds sheepishly. “I’ll try,” Shifty sighs. His slight gnomish stature is much more suited to penetrating a narrow well; moreover, he will fit in the bucket, like Yiddy did. The party slowly lowers him down the well. “I don’t see anything, either,” he calls to the others. ”Here, take another look,” Shar says to Yiddy. She grabs the kobold and drags him to the edge of the well. “Wait!” squeaks the kobold. “I’m scared! Don’t make me!” “Oh, shut up.” Shar hoists the little fellow over the lip of the well and drops him in. A wail, followed by a crash and a splash, mark his progress. “HEY!!” shouts Shifty from below. “You hit me with him!” “Is he all right?” Sepia yells down. “Yiddy!” Shifty’s voice floats back up from below: “...I don’t really think so.” Sepia turns to Shar and glares at him. “You owe me a new slave!” Shar shrugs. “Fair enough.” “There’s nothing down here,” Shifty calls again. “Haul me back up.” A few moments later, with their gnome back on the ground with the rest of them, the party heads into the tower proper. It has three storeys, although the uppermost is twice the height of the lower two; all is abandoned, but there are old foodstuffs- long spoiled- and uniforms in the place. “It doesn’t look like they intended to abandon this place forever,” Karl muses. “They left stuff behind, and there are no signs that they left in a hurry, either. Something must have happened to the governor and his men after they left.” “Look at what I found!” exclaims Sepia. “A sprig of mistletoe!” “That’s a druidic holy symbol,” Karl states. He examines it closely. “It looks to me like it got left here a year or two ago at most, but everything we’ve seen indicates that the governor and his men must have vanished thirty years ago or thereabouts. A druid must have come and looked the place over much more recently.” “I wonder if it’s connected to Novak,” Cavemouth says. “Well, let’s consider this,” Shifty suggests. “Nobody is here. Nobody has [i]been[/i] here for decades. There are uniforms, though- and if we wear them, we can claim that we’re the governor’s new men.” He grins. “And who will contradict us? This is perfect! We can [i]be[/i] the authorities if we want!” Outside, the shadows have grown long. The sun is setting. Our heroes elect to stay the night in the tower and see if anything interesting happens (it doesn’t), and in the morning they debate their next move. ”Next, [i]you[/i] need to get [i]me[/i] a new slave,” Sepia tells Shar. She shrugs. “Let’s go back to the chasm, then.” “The goblins probably won’t like seeing us.” “Then we kill them,” says Shifty. But upon returning to the chasm, Sepia stops them. “Wait a minute. I forgot- I already used up all my alchemist’s fire. We should go back to Grumbleford first so that I can restock.” So they turn right around. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Our heroes return to Grumbleford, the crossroads and the chasm! [/QUOTE]
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