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Ghourmand Vale (3.5 campaign)
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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 9261850" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>ADVENTURE 45: THE SUITE</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster: </p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Ageratum Purslane, halfling rogue 11</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Alistair Mandelberen Pastlethwaite, human sorcerer 11</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Chaevaris Noarunal, elf archer 11</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Harlan Starblade, half-elf paladin 11</p><p></p><p>NPC Roster:</p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Orchid, elf druid 11</p><p></p><p>Game Session Date: 31 January 2024</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>Arriving in Littleberg, the adventurers found it to be about as they had envisioned: bigger than a village, smaller than a city, with a thriving marketplace featuring all kinds of wares. They traveled through the marketplace, Harlan's celestial pegasus causing quite a few double-takes, and headed for a tavern at the end of the street. "<strong>Thorndyke</strong>'s Tavern," declared a sign swinging outside from a pole sticking out from over the door. The building was a wooden structure, a single story on the right side but the left side sporting a second floor.</p><p></p><p>There was a hitching post outside, and the heroes tied the reins of their assorted mounts to them. "You watch over them, Shushitan," Orchid instructed her timber wolf, and the lupine beast wagged his tail in acknowledgment. Then Harlan opened the door and stepped inside. The tavern room was pretty full, with pretty barmaids bringing drinks to the customers seated at the various tables, and blazing fireplaces along the back and right-hand walls. An elderly man and woman sat at a small, central table before the northernmost fireplace, smiling over the crowd of customers - mostly human, but with a smattering of elves, dwarves, and even a gnome woman. Automatically scanning the crowd himself, Harlan was pleased to note only a few "pings" of evil in their assorted auras, and of those only at an "I'd steal your purse if you left it behind" level and not at the "I'd sacrifice newborn babies to demons if it would grant me more power" level. He headed over for the only empty table, one that looked large enough to seat eight but with only five chairs placed around it, and was surprised to see a sign propped up against the unlit candle in the middle of the table that read, "RESERVED FOR THE TRAINED PROFESSIONAL ADVENTURERS." Surprised that the owners had apparently known they were coming - a fact unknown to the TPA members themselves until they happened to spot the tavern at about the time they were ready for a noonday meal - Harlan pulled back one of the chairs and took a seat. As the others followed him and took their own seats, the paladin frowned at a cat lounging before the eastern fireplace.</p><p></p><p>"What's the matter, Harlan? Don't like cats?" asked Ageratum as she climbed up onto a chair scaled for a human.</p><p></p><p>"No, it's not that - that particular cat has the strongest aura of evil of anybody in this room," the half-elf replied.</p><p></p><p>"Likely a familiar," opined Alistair, before adding, "Possibly even an imp or quasit!" His own familiar, the grackle Ambrose, sat perched upon his shoulder, scanning the customers.</p><p></p><p>"No, neither of those," Harlan reassured the sorcerer. "Its aura is evil, but not at the level of a denizen of the Fiendish Planes."</p><p></p><p>"Evil wizard's familiar, then," guessed Alistair, looking around the tavern to see if he could see anyone who fit that description. Just then, one of the serving girls approached them and asked if they were part of the TPA. Harlan smiled at her and assured her they were the TPA.</p><p></p><p>"Really?" asked the server. "Because you don't look anything like them."</p><p></p><p>"What do you mean?" frowned Chaevaris.</p><p></p><p>"They got in last night," the barmaid replied. "Five of them, but they don't look anything like you." At that, Alistair's mind started coming up with all sorts of crazy scenarios: there were imposters cashing in on the TPA's reputation, possibly performing nefarious deeds for which the real TPA would be blamed. He surreptitiously cast a <em>haste</em> spell on the group, in case these imposters were nearby and needed dealing with at once.</p><p></p><p>Orchid, in the meantime, had been concentrating on the cat that was giving Harlan so much concern. She cast a <em>speak with animals</em> spell and greeted the little feline in his own language. "Hello," she said. "My name is Orchid. What's yours?"</p><p></p><p>"<strong>Stilton</strong>," replied the cat regally, looking up at the elven druid while managing to appear as if he were looking down at her.</p><p></p><p>"Do you live here, or are you visiting?" prompted Orchid, trying to get the regal cat into a conversation.</p><p></p><p>"I live here," Stilton replied. "All of this you see - it's mine."</p><p></p><p>"Really? That's quite impressive. Where are your-- tenders?" She had almost used the word "masters" but felt that wouldn't go over very well.</p><p></p><p>"All around us," Stilton replied with a sniff. "They all tend to my needs." He looked over to the far side of the room, and Orchid followed his gaze - only to spot a robed wizard walk into the room, see the five sitting around the reserved table, freeze in place, then quickly spin around and return the way he had come, down the hallway leading to the western half of the building. Harlan looked over at the wizard as he started to leave and noticed his aura had the same level of evil as did the cat.</p><p></p><p>"Time for fish," Stilton announced, getting up from his spot by the fireplace and trotting beneath tables and chairs in the direction of the departing wizard.</p><p></p><p>"Well, I can take your orders if you like," replied another barmaid, <strong>Cecily</strong>; the first one had left the table and gone to talk to the elderly couple. The older man raised his glass in a silent toast to the five heroes. "But you'll have to leave the table if the adventurers come downstairs," Cecily added. "It is reserved for them, after all, and Harlan would probably get mad if he saw you sitting in their area."</p><p></p><p>"Would he now?" asked Harlan with a smile. "This Harlan is an unpleasant fellow, is he?"</p><p></p><p>"No, not really unpleasant," hedged Cecily. "But kind of stern, yeah."</p><p></p><p>"This man here is Harlan Starblade," Alistair interrupted, pointing to the symbol of Pelor on the paladin's armor and shield. "Did this other Harlan have Pelorian accoutrements?"</p><p></p><p>"Not that I can recall," admitted Cecily. Then the first barmaid, <strong>Barbara</strong>, returned. "Thorndyke says you are welcome to stay at this table," she informed the group.</p><p></p><p>"I don't think that will be necessary," Alistair retorted, getting to his feet. "'Come downstairs,' you said? I take it these phony TPA members are staying in rooms upstairs, then?" He turned to his companions. "I think perhaps we'd better go have a word with them."</p><p></p><p>"Agreed," replied Ageratum, hopping down from the chair and slapping her bracelet, causing her to slip from the visible realm.</p><p></p><p>"You know," pointed out Barbara, "these five fit the descriptions of the songs a lot better."</p><p></p><p>"But Harlan said the bards just change things around to make the words fit better," argued Cecily. Alistair was already marching over in the direction the wizard and his cat had taken, and before he got too far away, Orchid cast a <em>mass bear's endurance</em> spell upon the five heroes and Ambrose. Then, from across the room, she heard the cat say "TPA" to the wizard in his regal, feline voice. The wizard, <strong>Brostem</strong>, swore and raced for the stairs. The heroes all leaped up in pursuit. Chaevaris passed by Thorndyke's table and noticed he made some sort of gesture with his hands, very similar to what Alistair did when he cast a <em>shield</em> spell upon himself - a likely wizard, then, or a sorcerer like Alistair. Regardless, the archer made a bee-line for Stilton and scooped him up by the scruff of the neck, noting they were past the rest of the tavern crowd and likely wouldn't hurt any innocent bystanders if they got into a scuffle with the five imposters down here, although their intention was to deal with them upstairs where there would be nobody in the crossfire.</p><p></p><p>"Elemental!" warned Ambrose as Alistair swept past Thorndyke's table. The bird had seen the flames in the fireplace behind the elderly couple take on a vaguely humanoid form, look about, and then collapse back into a more normal-looking fire. But since it didn't seem to be bothering anyone and likely wasn't allied with the fake TPA members, Alistair chose to ignore its presence but cast a <em>shield</em> spell upon himself to go with the <em>mage armor</em> spell he'd cast earlier that morning. Then Ambrose flew off of his master's shoulder and approached Brostem at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second floor.</p><p></p><p>Harlan cast a <em>magic circle against evil</em> spell upon himself and drew his longsword once he was past the tavern customers and in the hallway. Brostem was already starting to ascend the stairs, visible through the banister. Harlan called for the wizard to stop, but Brostem ignored him, listening instead to his cat familiar's entreaties in the language they shared: "It's the real TPA, coming upstairs to confront you! Kill them all!" Unseen, Ageratum pushed her way past the crowds and entered the hallway right behind the paladin, as Brostem called up a warning to his accomplices upstairs. "Get ready to kill them!" he yelled, apparently not at all worried that his words might be picked up by the patrons in the noisy tavern.</p><p></p><p>Orchid was still among the patrons when she cast a <em>baleful polymorph</em> spell down the hallway, hoping to transform the known-to-be-evil wizard into a harmless bunny. She hadn't had a whole lot of success in the past with that particular spell, but this time it worked like a charm; Brostem shrunk into his new form on the stairs, all wriggling whiskers and fluffy tail. He looked around in confusion, his actions making it apparent his mind had become that of a simple rabbit as well. In somewhat of a panic at the unfamiliar environment, he hopped back down the stairs and tried to hide behind a chair in the corner.</p><p></p><p>Chaevaris, still holding the cat familiar, advanced to the bottom of the stairs and then drop-kicked the feline up the steps. It gave a yowl of pain and confusion - for its empathic link with its master had just been severed - as it hit the wall, dropped to all fours on a step, and then scrambled back down through the banister to retreat by the front doors to the tavern. Readying her bow, the archer began advancing cautiously up the stairs, arrow nocked and ready to fire.</p><p></p><p>Alistair, taking full advantage of the <em>haste</em> spell he'd cast, raced up the stairs and into the upper hallway. There were several doors visible, two of them slightly cracked open in the corner. He stood in the corner, where nobody could sneak up on him, and peeked into the first of the doors, finding it to be an unlit linen closet. The other door opened into a ballroom of sorts from what the sorcerer could tell, but he could only see but a sliver of the room. Ambrose, after flying up the stairwell, saw nothing upon which he might perch himself and thus settled back on his master's shoulder. Harlan went up the stairs next, sword in hand, and casting a <em>bull's strength</em> spell upon himself as he did so. Ageratum snuck up behind him, advancing into the ballroom, able to slide into the room without opening the door much further than it already was. Inside the room, well out of the range of Alistair's vision, were two armed and armored human men. They were alert for trouble, with their hands gripped on longswords and apparently ready to spring on anyone who entered the ballroom, but they hadn't counted on the little halfling's invisibility and years of training in moving without making a sound. Ageratum made it to the east side of the room, well out of striking range of either of the fighters.</p><p></p><p>Orchid made it out of the tavern and only then wildshaped into an eagle, flying over to the open stairwell. She hadn't made it all the way to the upper floor when the first of the imposters struck. A dwarven rogue opened the door to the linen closet in which he'd been hiding and stabbed at the sorcerer, missing him despite having the element of surprise (for the young nobleman had certainly not expected anybody to be hiding in the storage room where the staff kept their clean linens, nor had he spotted the dwarf hiding there in the darkness). And then, with Alistair's attention centered on the first dwarf, the second one - who had been standing right beside the sorcerer as he advanced to the corner, hidden by the <em>ring of invisibility</em> he'd activated when he heard the attack upon Brostem on the stairs and his resulting bunnification - swung at the young nobleman with a sap, hoping to conk him on the head and knock him into instant sleep. But Ambrose's startled squawk as the dwarf popped back into visibility caused the dwarf to flub his attack, smacking his weapon into the wall instead. Ambrose flapped his wings and was down the hall in a shot, not liking to be in the middle of a close-quarters fight.</p><p></p><p>Chaevaris aimed her nocked arrow at the first dwarf, who had just come out of the linen closet, and was surprised to recognize him: this was Pitkin, one of the rogues whose form had been appropriated by a doppelganger in the Topsy-Curvy Club to establish an alibi for the stocky thief - he was one of the original members of the Wild Coast Club. Unfortunately, the shock of recognition caused the archer to fail to lock on to her target, especially as he was still trying to stab Alistair with his short sword. The sorcerer stepped back, avoiding another swing from the other dwarf's sap, and fired off a <em>cone of cold</em> spell that hit both would-be assassins with a blast of frost that turned both of their faces - and their impressive beards - white. But the sap-wielder, Burkin (also known to the TPA as a member of the Wild Coast Club), managed to roll with the blast, minimizing its effectiveness, whereas poor Pitkin staggered back into the closet from the blast of cold.</p><p></p><p>Harlan raced up, stabbing his flaming <em>Starblade</em> into Pitkin's chest, then pulling it and swinging it over to Burkin, cutting a gash through the dwarven rogue's studded leather armor. Burkin fell back with a dwarven curse, one hand holding his bleeding chest.</p><p></p><p>Over in the ballroom, the two fighters were turning at the sound of combat in the hallway and looked to head out there to assist their dwarven allies. Ageratum dashed straight into the nearest one, <strong>Dalton</strong>, leading with the point of her <em>human bane short sword</em>. Her blade bit deep, the sudden attack returning the fierce halfling into full visibility, and suddenly Dalton opted to leave the dwarves to their own defenses while he and <strong>Patterson</strong> dealt with the foolish halfling girl who thought she was an equal to two full-grown human men. He decided to give her an immediate taste of the results of her foolishness by bringing his own blade down to cut her in two, but she easily dodged the slow-moving weapon and it merely carved a gash in the ballroom's wooden floor.</p><p></p><p>Then Orchid flew through the doorway into the ballroom, veering off to the eastern side as she cast a <em>wall of thorns</em> spell that caused thick masses of brambles to grow up and around the spaces the two fighters were currently occupying, extending from one side of the ballroom to the other for good measure. The fighters' curses and struggles to get free only caused the sturdy thorns to pierce their flesh even deeper. Dalton didn't stay trapped for long, though; activating the <em>cloak of the mountebank</em> he wore over his armor, he disappeared in a burst of smoke and reappeared across the room, over by where Orchid had landed after her aerial entry into the ballroom. Patterson merely continued to struggle, making things even worse for himself, as he was already bleeding profusely from several deep piercings.</p><p></p><p>Chaevaris fired off a barrage of arrows at Burkin, peppering his back as he faced Harlan, thinking him the greater threat. He collapsed forward onto the hallway floor, unconscious and bleeding out. Then, suddenly, Thorndyke materialized in the hallway, having cast a <em>teleport</em> spell after hearing the ruckus coming from upstairs. "Don't be doing too much damage up here," he warned.</p><p></p><p>Alistair pulled open the other door to the ballroom and stepped inside, his <em>metamagic rod</em> out and ready. He channeled a <em>lightning bolt</em> spell through it, blasting a surge of electricity directly into Dalton, all the while frowning at the garish cloak the fighter was wearing. Harlan burst into the room immediately thereafter, swinging his sword into Dalton's side and dropping him instantly. Ageratum backed over by the unconscious fighter, keeping a wary eye on Patterson (who, fortunately, didn't seem to have any ranged weapons on him), and then slit Dalton's throat with her blade once Alistair and Harlan had turned away. Orchid cast another spell, <em>summon swarm</em>, at Patterson, having decided being pierced by numerous barbs and thorns wasn't enough - he needed to be covered in spiders as well. Thousands of spiders manifested all around him, each one too small to worry about the thorns but more than able to bite the hapless fighter. Being covered in biting spiders only made Patterson thrash around all the harder in an attempt to free himself, to no avail.</p><p></p><p>Then Chaevaris entered the ballroom with bow drawn. She took careful aim, having determined a foe more or less pinned in place by a <em>wall of thorns</em> spell made a perfect target for her to practice her "eye shot" maneuver. But Alistair fired first, sending a <em>maximized magic missile</em> spell through his <em>metamagic rod</em> to strike the pinned fighter without damaging too many of the spiders covering him, like another <em>lightning bolt</em> or <em>cone of cold</em> spell would do.</p><p></p><p>Out in the hallway, Thorndyke pressed a bit of clean linen into Burkin's wounds, slowing the flow of blood, while "tsk-tsking" quietly to himself. Ageratum, having determined to her own satisfaction that combat was all but over, started in on looting Dalton of valuables, taking the <em>longsword of wounding</em> from his hand, the <em>cape of the mountebank</em> from around his neck, and shrugging the magical breastplate he wore from his cooling corpse. He also had a ring that looked like it might be magical, so she pulled that from his finger as well, figuring Alistair could check it out for magic later on.</p><p></p><p>Orchid, Alistair, and Harlan all stood observing Patterson, their sole remaining foe (if the tales of there being five of these imposters was accurate), as he struggled to free himself from both the piercing thorns and the biting spiders. Chaevaris released her arrow, the weapon piercing his eye and going straight into his brain, killing him instantly. Seeing him slump forward, Orchid went ahead and dismissed first her summoned spiders and then her <em>wall of thorns</em>. Patterson's unmoving corpse collapsed to the ballroom floor, and Ageratum moved up to him to check out if he had any valuables on him while Alistair cast a <em>prestidigitation</em> spell to clean up the bloodstains.</p><p></p><p>"I think we'll leave this one for the authorities," Thorndyke insisted when the heroes stepped back into the hallway. "You've had your vengeance for their charade, and their attempts to kill you after you found out."</p><p></p><p>"You were aware they weren't the real members of the Trained Professional Adventurers?" queried Alistair.</p><p></p><p>"Of course, at once," admitted the elderly wizard. "They were nothing like your descriptions in the songs, although they argued that the bard who wrote those songs carefully changed the descriptions so as not to give their enemies any warning about their true appearances." Alistair frowned at that comment; he hadn't ever considered the fact that he might be describing his team to their own detriment, if an enemy were able to use that information against them. "But they needed a place to stay, and their coin was as good as any other," Thorndyke added. "They've paid through the week; you're welcome to take over their rooms for the duration, if you like." The heroes opted not to take Thorndyke up on his offer, but they did check the rooms out and took the group's equipment for themselves. Alistair was particularly fascinated by Brostem's spellbook; he didn't use such a tome himself, but he figured a <em>read magic</em> spell would allow him to peruse the book's contents, after which time he could use each page as a single-use scroll if it came to that; the words would disappear as he intoned them, preventing him from ever using the same spell twice, but the book was hefty enough to include dozens of spells, if the sorcerer's guess was correct.</p><p></p><p>Chaevaris caught the bunny still trying to hide behind a chair, and Orchid caught Stilton over by the front door. "Are you sure you won't stay for a meal?" inquired Thorndyke, returning to his seat by his wife.</p><p></p><p>"I fear we must be on our way," Harlan replied. "Another time, perhaps." That suited Alistair just fine; he wanted nothing to do with an establishment that would elevate five common thugs to the level of the Trained Professional Adventurers. Just what was the world coming to, in any case?</p><p></p><p>Once they'd eaten (at a different inn) and moved on (Harlan took the opportunity to purchase a <em>ring of feather falling</em> from a local magic shop), they fed the bunny to Shushitan in the privacy of the interior of their extradimensional dwelling inside the amulet Chaevaris wore. When killing the bunny reverted Brostem to his original (but still dead) form, Ageratum was displeased to see the wizard kept no magical loot about his person. And Shushitan was displeased at having been suddenly deprived of his rabbit meal.</p><p></p><p>But he felt much better when they fed him the cat.</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>We had a bit of confusion when Dan showed us the map to the upper floor, as he had the same three squares being a set of stairs going one way on the bottom floor and the other way on the top floor, but we got that straightened out. Dan said he wrote this adventure specifically to close the loose plot thread of what had happened to the members of the Wild Coast Club who had fled Ghourmand Vale (although that hadn't been anything any of us were particularly concerned about), and we all found it interesting that Brostem, a local wizard from Littleberg, had just been hired to replace their original wizard...who had been <em>baleful polymorphed</em> by Orchid in the only other time she had ever gotten that spell to work. (That's also where we picked up Carruthers.)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 9261850, member: 508"] [B]ADVENTURE 45: THE SUITE[/B] PC Roster: [INDENT]Ageratum Purslane, halfling rogue 11[/INDENT] [INDENT] Alistair Mandelberen Pastlethwaite, human sorcerer 11[/INDENT] [INDENT] Chaevaris Noarunal, elf archer 11[/INDENT] [INDENT] Harlan Starblade, half-elf paladin 11[/INDENT] NPC Roster: [INDENT]Orchid, elf druid 11[/INDENT] Game Session Date: 31 January 2024 - - - Arriving in Littleberg, the adventurers found it to be about as they had envisioned: bigger than a village, smaller than a city, with a thriving marketplace featuring all kinds of wares. They traveled through the marketplace, Harlan's celestial pegasus causing quite a few double-takes, and headed for a tavern at the end of the street. "[B]Thorndyke[/B]'s Tavern," declared a sign swinging outside from a pole sticking out from over the door. The building was a wooden structure, a single story on the right side but the left side sporting a second floor. There was a hitching post outside, and the heroes tied the reins of their assorted mounts to them. "You watch over them, Shushitan," Orchid instructed her timber wolf, and the lupine beast wagged his tail in acknowledgment. Then Harlan opened the door and stepped inside. The tavern room was pretty full, with pretty barmaids bringing drinks to the customers seated at the various tables, and blazing fireplaces along the back and right-hand walls. An elderly man and woman sat at a small, central table before the northernmost fireplace, smiling over the crowd of customers - mostly human, but with a smattering of elves, dwarves, and even a gnome woman. Automatically scanning the crowd himself, Harlan was pleased to note only a few "pings" of evil in their assorted auras, and of those only at an "I'd steal your purse if you left it behind" level and not at the "I'd sacrifice newborn babies to demons if it would grant me more power" level. He headed over for the only empty table, one that looked large enough to seat eight but with only five chairs placed around it, and was surprised to see a sign propped up against the unlit candle in the middle of the table that read, "RESERVED FOR THE TRAINED PROFESSIONAL ADVENTURERS." Surprised that the owners had apparently known they were coming - a fact unknown to the TPA members themselves until they happened to spot the tavern at about the time they were ready for a noonday meal - Harlan pulled back one of the chairs and took a seat. As the others followed him and took their own seats, the paladin frowned at a cat lounging before the eastern fireplace. "What's the matter, Harlan? Don't like cats?" asked Ageratum as she climbed up onto a chair scaled for a human. "No, it's not that - that particular cat has the strongest aura of evil of anybody in this room," the half-elf replied. "Likely a familiar," opined Alistair, before adding, "Possibly even an imp or quasit!" His own familiar, the grackle Ambrose, sat perched upon his shoulder, scanning the customers. "No, neither of those," Harlan reassured the sorcerer. "Its aura is evil, but not at the level of a denizen of the Fiendish Planes." "Evil wizard's familiar, then," guessed Alistair, looking around the tavern to see if he could see anyone who fit that description. Just then, one of the serving girls approached them and asked if they were part of the TPA. Harlan smiled at her and assured her they were the TPA. "Really?" asked the server. "Because you don't look anything like them." "What do you mean?" frowned Chaevaris. "They got in last night," the barmaid replied. "Five of them, but they don't look anything like you." At that, Alistair's mind started coming up with all sorts of crazy scenarios: there were imposters cashing in on the TPA's reputation, possibly performing nefarious deeds for which the real TPA would be blamed. He surreptitiously cast a [I]haste[/I] spell on the group, in case these imposters were nearby and needed dealing with at once. Orchid, in the meantime, had been concentrating on the cat that was giving Harlan so much concern. She cast a [I]speak with animals[/I] spell and greeted the little feline in his own language. "Hello," she said. "My name is Orchid. What's yours?" "[B]Stilton[/B]," replied the cat regally, looking up at the elven druid while managing to appear as if he were looking down at her. "Do you live here, or are you visiting?" prompted Orchid, trying to get the regal cat into a conversation. "I live here," Stilton replied. "All of this you see - it's mine." "Really? That's quite impressive. Where are your-- tenders?" She had almost used the word "masters" but felt that wouldn't go over very well. "All around us," Stilton replied with a sniff. "They all tend to my needs." He looked over to the far side of the room, and Orchid followed his gaze - only to spot a robed wizard walk into the room, see the five sitting around the reserved table, freeze in place, then quickly spin around and return the way he had come, down the hallway leading to the western half of the building. Harlan looked over at the wizard as he started to leave and noticed his aura had the same level of evil as did the cat. "Time for fish," Stilton announced, getting up from his spot by the fireplace and trotting beneath tables and chairs in the direction of the departing wizard. "Well, I can take your orders if you like," replied another barmaid, [B]Cecily[/B]; the first one had left the table and gone to talk to the elderly couple. The older man raised his glass in a silent toast to the five heroes. "But you'll have to leave the table if the adventurers come downstairs," Cecily added. "It is reserved for them, after all, and Harlan would probably get mad if he saw you sitting in their area." "Would he now?" asked Harlan with a smile. "This Harlan is an unpleasant fellow, is he?" "No, not really unpleasant," hedged Cecily. "But kind of stern, yeah." "This man here is Harlan Starblade," Alistair interrupted, pointing to the symbol of Pelor on the paladin's armor and shield. "Did this other Harlan have Pelorian accoutrements?" "Not that I can recall," admitted Cecily. Then the first barmaid, [B]Barbara[/B], returned. "Thorndyke says you are welcome to stay at this table," she informed the group. "I don't think that will be necessary," Alistair retorted, getting to his feet. "'Come downstairs,' you said? I take it these phony TPA members are staying in rooms upstairs, then?" He turned to his companions. "I think perhaps we'd better go have a word with them." "Agreed," replied Ageratum, hopping down from the chair and slapping her bracelet, causing her to slip from the visible realm. "You know," pointed out Barbara, "these five fit the descriptions of the songs a lot better." "But Harlan said the bards just change things around to make the words fit better," argued Cecily. Alistair was already marching over in the direction the wizard and his cat had taken, and before he got too far away, Orchid cast a [I]mass bear's endurance[/I] spell upon the five heroes and Ambrose. Then, from across the room, she heard the cat say "TPA" to the wizard in his regal, feline voice. The wizard, [B]Brostem[/B], swore and raced for the stairs. The heroes all leaped up in pursuit. Chaevaris passed by Thorndyke's table and noticed he made some sort of gesture with his hands, very similar to what Alistair did when he cast a [I]shield[/I] spell upon himself - a likely wizard, then, or a sorcerer like Alistair. Regardless, the archer made a bee-line for Stilton and scooped him up by the scruff of the neck, noting they were past the rest of the tavern crowd and likely wouldn't hurt any innocent bystanders if they got into a scuffle with the five imposters down here, although their intention was to deal with them upstairs where there would be nobody in the crossfire. "Elemental!" warned Ambrose as Alistair swept past Thorndyke's table. The bird had seen the flames in the fireplace behind the elderly couple take on a vaguely humanoid form, look about, and then collapse back into a more normal-looking fire. But since it didn't seem to be bothering anyone and likely wasn't allied with the fake TPA members, Alistair chose to ignore its presence but cast a [I]shield[/I] spell upon himself to go with the [I]mage armor[/I] spell he'd cast earlier that morning. Then Ambrose flew off of his master's shoulder and approached Brostem at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second floor. Harlan cast a [I]magic circle against evil[/I] spell upon himself and drew his longsword once he was past the tavern customers and in the hallway. Brostem was already starting to ascend the stairs, visible through the banister. Harlan called for the wizard to stop, but Brostem ignored him, listening instead to his cat familiar's entreaties in the language they shared: "It's the real TPA, coming upstairs to confront you! Kill them all!" Unseen, Ageratum pushed her way past the crowds and entered the hallway right behind the paladin, as Brostem called up a warning to his accomplices upstairs. "Get ready to kill them!" he yelled, apparently not at all worried that his words might be picked up by the patrons in the noisy tavern. Orchid was still among the patrons when she cast a [I]baleful polymorph[/I] spell down the hallway, hoping to transform the known-to-be-evil wizard into a harmless bunny. She hadn't had a whole lot of success in the past with that particular spell, but this time it worked like a charm; Brostem shrunk into his new form on the stairs, all wriggling whiskers and fluffy tail. He looked around in confusion, his actions making it apparent his mind had become that of a simple rabbit as well. In somewhat of a panic at the unfamiliar environment, he hopped back down the stairs and tried to hide behind a chair in the corner. Chaevaris, still holding the cat familiar, advanced to the bottom of the stairs and then drop-kicked the feline up the steps. It gave a yowl of pain and confusion - for its empathic link with its master had just been severed - as it hit the wall, dropped to all fours on a step, and then scrambled back down through the banister to retreat by the front doors to the tavern. Readying her bow, the archer began advancing cautiously up the stairs, arrow nocked and ready to fire. Alistair, taking full advantage of the [I]haste[/I] spell he'd cast, raced up the stairs and into the upper hallway. There were several doors visible, two of them slightly cracked open in the corner. He stood in the corner, where nobody could sneak up on him, and peeked into the first of the doors, finding it to be an unlit linen closet. The other door opened into a ballroom of sorts from what the sorcerer could tell, but he could only see but a sliver of the room. Ambrose, after flying up the stairwell, saw nothing upon which he might perch himself and thus settled back on his master's shoulder. Harlan went up the stairs next, sword in hand, and casting a [I]bull's strength[/I] spell upon himself as he did so. Ageratum snuck up behind him, advancing into the ballroom, able to slide into the room without opening the door much further than it already was. Inside the room, well out of the range of Alistair's vision, were two armed and armored human men. They were alert for trouble, with their hands gripped on longswords and apparently ready to spring on anyone who entered the ballroom, but they hadn't counted on the little halfling's invisibility and years of training in moving without making a sound. Ageratum made it to the east side of the room, well out of striking range of either of the fighters. Orchid made it out of the tavern and only then wildshaped into an eagle, flying over to the open stairwell. She hadn't made it all the way to the upper floor when the first of the imposters struck. A dwarven rogue opened the door to the linen closet in which he'd been hiding and stabbed at the sorcerer, missing him despite having the element of surprise (for the young nobleman had certainly not expected anybody to be hiding in the storage room where the staff kept their clean linens, nor had he spotted the dwarf hiding there in the darkness). And then, with Alistair's attention centered on the first dwarf, the second one - who had been standing right beside the sorcerer as he advanced to the corner, hidden by the [I]ring of invisibility[/I] he'd activated when he heard the attack upon Brostem on the stairs and his resulting bunnification - swung at the young nobleman with a sap, hoping to conk him on the head and knock him into instant sleep. But Ambrose's startled squawk as the dwarf popped back into visibility caused the dwarf to flub his attack, smacking his weapon into the wall instead. Ambrose flapped his wings and was down the hall in a shot, not liking to be in the middle of a close-quarters fight. Chaevaris aimed her nocked arrow at the first dwarf, who had just come out of the linen closet, and was surprised to recognize him: this was Pitkin, one of the rogues whose form had been appropriated by a doppelganger in the Topsy-Curvy Club to establish an alibi for the stocky thief - he was one of the original members of the Wild Coast Club. Unfortunately, the shock of recognition caused the archer to fail to lock on to her target, especially as he was still trying to stab Alistair with his short sword. The sorcerer stepped back, avoiding another swing from the other dwarf's sap, and fired off a [I]cone of cold[/I] spell that hit both would-be assassins with a blast of frost that turned both of their faces - and their impressive beards - white. But the sap-wielder, Burkin (also known to the TPA as a member of the Wild Coast Club), managed to roll with the blast, minimizing its effectiveness, whereas poor Pitkin staggered back into the closet from the blast of cold. Harlan raced up, stabbing his flaming [I]Starblade[/I] into Pitkin's chest, then pulling it and swinging it over to Burkin, cutting a gash through the dwarven rogue's studded leather armor. Burkin fell back with a dwarven curse, one hand holding his bleeding chest. Over in the ballroom, the two fighters were turning at the sound of combat in the hallway and looked to head out there to assist their dwarven allies. Ageratum dashed straight into the nearest one, [B]Dalton[/B], leading with the point of her [I]human bane short sword[/I]. Her blade bit deep, the sudden attack returning the fierce halfling into full visibility, and suddenly Dalton opted to leave the dwarves to their own defenses while he and [B]Patterson[/B] dealt with the foolish halfling girl who thought she was an equal to two full-grown human men. He decided to give her an immediate taste of the results of her foolishness by bringing his own blade down to cut her in two, but she easily dodged the slow-moving weapon and it merely carved a gash in the ballroom's wooden floor. Then Orchid flew through the doorway into the ballroom, veering off to the eastern side as she cast a [I]wall of thorns[/I] spell that caused thick masses of brambles to grow up and around the spaces the two fighters were currently occupying, extending from one side of the ballroom to the other for good measure. The fighters' curses and struggles to get free only caused the sturdy thorns to pierce their flesh even deeper. Dalton didn't stay trapped for long, though; activating the [I]cloak of the mountebank[/I] he wore over his armor, he disappeared in a burst of smoke and reappeared across the room, over by where Orchid had landed after her aerial entry into the ballroom. Patterson merely continued to struggle, making things even worse for himself, as he was already bleeding profusely from several deep piercings. Chaevaris fired off a barrage of arrows at Burkin, peppering his back as he faced Harlan, thinking him the greater threat. He collapsed forward onto the hallway floor, unconscious and bleeding out. Then, suddenly, Thorndyke materialized in the hallway, having cast a [I]teleport[/I] spell after hearing the ruckus coming from upstairs. "Don't be doing too much damage up here," he warned. Alistair pulled open the other door to the ballroom and stepped inside, his [I]metamagic rod[/I] out and ready. He channeled a [I]lightning bolt[/I] spell through it, blasting a surge of electricity directly into Dalton, all the while frowning at the garish cloak the fighter was wearing. Harlan burst into the room immediately thereafter, swinging his sword into Dalton's side and dropping him instantly. Ageratum backed over by the unconscious fighter, keeping a wary eye on Patterson (who, fortunately, didn't seem to have any ranged weapons on him), and then slit Dalton's throat with her blade once Alistair and Harlan had turned away. Orchid cast another spell, [I]summon swarm[/I], at Patterson, having decided being pierced by numerous barbs and thorns wasn't enough - he needed to be covered in spiders as well. Thousands of spiders manifested all around him, each one too small to worry about the thorns but more than able to bite the hapless fighter. Being covered in biting spiders only made Patterson thrash around all the harder in an attempt to free himself, to no avail. Then Chaevaris entered the ballroom with bow drawn. She took careful aim, having determined a foe more or less pinned in place by a [I]wall of thorns[/I] spell made a perfect target for her to practice her "eye shot" maneuver. But Alistair fired first, sending a [I]maximized magic missile[/I] spell through his [I]metamagic rod[/I] to strike the pinned fighter without damaging too many of the spiders covering him, like another [I]lightning bolt[/I] or [I]cone of cold[/I] spell would do. Out in the hallway, Thorndyke pressed a bit of clean linen into Burkin's wounds, slowing the flow of blood, while "tsk-tsking" quietly to himself. Ageratum, having determined to her own satisfaction that combat was all but over, started in on looting Dalton of valuables, taking the [I]longsword of wounding[/I] from his hand, the [I]cape of the mountebank[/I] from around his neck, and shrugging the magical breastplate he wore from his cooling corpse. He also had a ring that looked like it might be magical, so she pulled that from his finger as well, figuring Alistair could check it out for magic later on. Orchid, Alistair, and Harlan all stood observing Patterson, their sole remaining foe (if the tales of there being five of these imposters was accurate), as he struggled to free himself from both the piercing thorns and the biting spiders. Chaevaris released her arrow, the weapon piercing his eye and going straight into his brain, killing him instantly. Seeing him slump forward, Orchid went ahead and dismissed first her summoned spiders and then her [I]wall of thorns[/I]. Patterson's unmoving corpse collapsed to the ballroom floor, and Ageratum moved up to him to check out if he had any valuables on him while Alistair cast a [I]prestidigitation[/I] spell to clean up the bloodstains. "I think we'll leave this one for the authorities," Thorndyke insisted when the heroes stepped back into the hallway. "You've had your vengeance for their charade, and their attempts to kill you after you found out." "You were aware they weren't the real members of the Trained Professional Adventurers?" queried Alistair. "Of course, at once," admitted the elderly wizard. "They were nothing like your descriptions in the songs, although they argued that the bard who wrote those songs carefully changed the descriptions so as not to give their enemies any warning about their true appearances." Alistair frowned at that comment; he hadn't ever considered the fact that he might be describing his team to their own detriment, if an enemy were able to use that information against them. "But they needed a place to stay, and their coin was as good as any other," Thorndyke added. "They've paid through the week; you're welcome to take over their rooms for the duration, if you like." The heroes opted not to take Thorndyke up on his offer, but they did check the rooms out and took the group's equipment for themselves. Alistair was particularly fascinated by Brostem's spellbook; he didn't use such a tome himself, but he figured a [I]read magic[/I] spell would allow him to peruse the book's contents, after which time he could use each page as a single-use scroll if it came to that; the words would disappear as he intoned them, preventing him from ever using the same spell twice, but the book was hefty enough to include dozens of spells, if the sorcerer's guess was correct. Chaevaris caught the bunny still trying to hide behind a chair, and Orchid caught Stilton over by the front door. "Are you sure you won't stay for a meal?" inquired Thorndyke, returning to his seat by his wife. "I fear we must be on our way," Harlan replied. "Another time, perhaps." That suited Alistair just fine; he wanted nothing to do with an establishment that would elevate five common thugs to the level of the Trained Professional Adventurers. Just what was the world coming to, in any case? Once they'd eaten (at a different inn) and moved on (Harlan took the opportunity to purchase a [I]ring of feather falling[/I] from a local magic shop), they fed the bunny to Shushitan in the privacy of the interior of their extradimensional dwelling inside the amulet Chaevaris wore. When killing the bunny reverted Brostem to his original (but still dead) form, Ageratum was displeased to see the wizard kept no magical loot about his person. And Shushitan was displeased at having been suddenly deprived of his rabbit meal. But he felt much better when they fed him the cat. - - - We had a bit of confusion when Dan showed us the map to the upper floor, as he had the same three squares being a set of stairs going one way on the bottom floor and the other way on the top floor, but we got that straightened out. Dan said he wrote this adventure specifically to close the loose plot thread of what had happened to the members of the Wild Coast Club who had fled Ghourmand Vale (although that hadn't been anything any of us were particularly concerned about), and we all found it interesting that Brostem, a local wizard from Littleberg, had just been hired to replace their original wizard...who had been [I]baleful polymorphed[/I] by Orchid in the only other time she had ever gotten that spell to work. (That's also where we picked up Carruthers.) [/QUOTE]
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