Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)

[diaglo]

More news (clack); Elves have big ears.

The door to the inn was thrown open. And a patrol entered. They looked weary.

"Wulf," Sabine called out. "Something hot and spicy. I can barely feel my fingers."

Sabine began telling Wulf all the latest news. Veridian heard teh whole report. Her patrol was sent out to the north to investigate the rumors of gnolls at ruins in the forest. They discovered tracks of gnolls, humans, and some large beast before having to turn back because of deep snow and worsening weather.

Veridian also had something new to add to the conversation at the party's table. He overheard parts of a whispered conversation between Himool and the wizard Carl: " northern barrow ...riddle on door ... likely Netherese origin ... strong magic aura ... Mask of Races ... probably Damarran ...". He was unable to determine any more. Veridian seemed overjoyed with himself with his ability to eavesdrop on other's conversations.

 

[diaglo]

Meta blurs with IC...

Fiddle asked, "So what does anyone know about gnolls and their habits? Does this sound a little strange to you? I mean gnolls and humans together. Or a large beast...Hmmm...I wonder...could it be a..."
"Fiddle, I don't think a dragon would be working with gnolls and humans." Richter interrupted. "It may have them as apetizers, perhaps. We still need to figure out what we will do after we talk to this priest of Lathander."
"Dragon, did you say?" Fiddle smiled. "I was wondering about a beast of burden. Though, I'll never be one. Something like an oxen or horse. But a dragon...oh boy, now that would be something."
"Descions?" Richter ignored the halfling.
"Are we killing the progeny of some family? " Fiddle joked and then fidgeted, "no it appears no other decisions are being made as to what direction we will be travelling."
Veridian added, "That depends on whether or not you decide to pick pocket Richter again I suppose. Although we do need to decide if we want to try to get the sword from Himool or not."
"Undead," Richter's patience wore thin. "Decide away. I will have no part in it (the things concerning Himool). I am LG."
"LG?," Fiddle remarked. "Is that anything like Lawful Stupid? One of those rod up the arse paladins."
Hawk shook his head beneath his cowl. Vlad excused himself.

 

[Angelsboi]

oh my god. I cant believe i wrote LG in that damned email LOL

 

[diaglo]

Spring thaw

The winter passed by incredibly slowly. Fiddle spent many hours mooching off of Himool’s hospitality. But he was no closer to figuring out a way to separate the elf from his blade. The female elf also spent long hours in their company. Fiddle suspected she was keeping an eye on him. Ratttsss. This also meant Fiddle knew everything there was to know about Himool. The elf told and retold the tales of his exploits. Fiddle feigned interest. Why not, there was little else to do in Peldan’s Helm.

The Lathanderite priest turned out to be Hawk. His real name was Darian. He like Richter was from a noble family in Cormyr. Darian spent the long winter months caring for Reese the Cobbler. Age had caught up to the old man. And Darian listened to his tales and comforted him as best he could. Richter too was a frequent visitor. But there was nothing they could do to prevent the passage of time. Darian guessed the cobbler would see the Summer, but not much after.

Veridian was busy too during the wait. He sold the horses and riding dogs. He traded in the old party’s supplies. And he wrote messages to his sister. None of this did he share with the others.

Vlad and Erin spent many hours at Wulf’s inn. Erin meditated. And Vlad, well, did whatever he did. He kept to himself mostly.

As the snow cleared the dwarves set off for the Thunder Peaks. And Himool and his band departed for the Barrowfields. The remaining adventurers met one morning for breakfast.

 

[diaglo]

Last minute preparations

“Blessed be the Morning,” Darian blessed the breakfast. “For it gives rise to a new day. In Lathander’s name we give praise.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Veridian mumbled.

“Please pass the marmalade,” Fiddle asked. Fiddle attacked a large mound of butter and toast in front of him.

“Undead,” Richter blurted. “I say we head to the Barrowfields after Himool’s party.”

“Too early,” Vlad smacked his head. “I’m going back to bed. If you leave before I’m awake just let me say Good Luck now.” Vlad stumbled back to his room.

“It was another late night for that one,” Erin mentioned. “I would agree the Barrows do sound tempting. But let me add another opinion. The undead can wait. The people of Peldan’s Helm, I believe, are more concerned with the living dangers. The gnolls, evil doers, and the ruins to the North sound like more of a present threat.”

“Aye,” Sabine from the next table interrupted. “This winter our patrol found signs of activity near the ruins. We didn’t investigate further.”

“Rffruins,” Fiddle sprayed crumbs out of his mouth as he spoke. “Wffhat kindf off twhacckks did you ffindf?”

“A rather large creature, but not a bear,” Sabine replied. “But I’m not an expert. Our scouts were unable to guess. Plus we found tracks of the gnolls and possible humans. How did you know about that? ”

“I am an elf,” Veridian tugged on his ears.

Sabine rose and left for her duties.

“Fine,” Richter conceded. “The ruins it is. But later we must help Eliar defeat the allip.”

“As you wish,” Erin bowed. “Is everyone ready?”

Fiddle reached down and picked up his pack. The others were likewise prepared. Everyone was antsy to hit the road.

 

[Olgar Shiverstone]

You gonna change the title again?

 

[diaglo]

Pop goes the Weasel

Fiddle led the way. The road was muddy in spots but an easy trek. Erin’s pet weasel, Pop, rode on the monk’s shoulders and scurried into the brush from time to time. Veridian and Darian had mounts. But since the going was slow, they chose to walk also. Richter and Darian chatted about their home. Fiddle tried to find tracks. Any tracks. Something to keep his mind and his sanity from straying. The chatter from the birds and insects was unnerving. Spring was in the air. Half a day’s trek from Peldan’s Helm the noise stopped. And then was interrupted by a ghostly whistle. A voice carried on the wind.

“Who’s there?” Richter called out.

“The old hermit,” Darian offered. “That’s my guess.”

No one replied.

“Something’s coming,” Erin twitched. “Pop is being chased back here.”

Fiddle ducked under cover of the bushes.

“Fiddle?” Richter called out.

Pop ran up Erin’s body and onto his shoulder. A very large striped animal shook the brush and poked his masked face out. It didn’t come any closer.

“Let’s get going,” Darian said. “It is protecting its territory.”

“Wait for me,” Fiddle ran to catch up. The dire badger watched but didn’t give chase.

 

[Angelsboi]

And everyone will laugh when they realize Karma does play a part in the fantasy world ...

 

[diaglo]

d00d....

The party reached a fork in the road. A trail meandered to the West and another continued North.

“North,” Erin said before anyone could ask. “I believe I recall Sabine saying the Ruins were off the North trail.”

“And Reese mentioned,” Darian added. “The West trail leads to the Caves of Chaos.”

So North they went. A little while later a large stone obelisk rose up in the middle of the path. Fiddle raised his hand for the group to stop. He saw something. Erin, Veridian, and Fiddle crept forward. Richter and Darian looked around. They didn’t see anything, so they started up a conversation. Fiddle smacked his forehead.

“Hello,” Erin said to the obelisk. “You can come out. We mean you no harm.”

A hairy, dirty fellow stuck his head out from behind the stone. Erin and Veridian talked to the man. He was a human. Fiddle turned back to the others and waved his arms frantically. Richter and Darian didn’t notice. When Fiddle turned back the conversation was still going.

“Del,” the man said. “And these are my friends. Would you like to talk to Del’s friends?” He held out his hand. A flea hopped up and down on his palm.

“D00d,” Fiddle yelled back to Richter and Darian. “You need to get a Dell.”

“Dragon,” Del continued. “Blue and gray with yellow stripes.”

“Dragon, did you say?” Richter beat Fiddle to the punch.

“Yes,” Del answered. “In the ruins over the hill.”

“Thank you,” Darian said. “We must be leaving.”

Veridian, Fiddle, and Richter were already ahead. Erin bowed to Del and followed with Darian.

 

[diaglo]

Eat me...

Maybe Del was just a mad hermit. Dragon indeed. An hour or so down the path, the party climbed a hill. And from the ridge, they could see the ruins. A moathouse or more precisely the remains of one lay below. The water still flowed around the collapsed structure. The drawbridge was down. The three round towers were burnt and crumpled. The larger main tower still had some supports.

"Give me 10 minutes," Fiddle disappeared into the brush.

Fiddle searched for tracks, signs, hints, clues, whatever...all the while staying hidden and moving closer.

"Where'd Fiddle go?" Richter asked. He and Darian had once again been talking and hadn't noticed the hin leave.

"He's down there among those reeds," Erin pointed. "See how they rustle."

SSSpppLLlattt

A very large, very sticky tongue struck Fiddle in the chest.

"AAAAAYYYYEEEEllllpppp," Fiddle screamed and tried to resist.

A large frog had him. Luckily Fiddle had his daggers handy. He leapt forward and stabbed one into the frog's hide.

Guuulllpp. Fiddle was gone. The frog leapt into the moat.

Richter, Darian, Erin, and Veridian ran down to the water's edge.