Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way

[the Jester]

Grimlock Gauntlet

4:20 a.m., 5/4/368 O.L.G., on the bridge in the Neversun Chasm, Strogass

Jawbreaker grins. There are twigs in his beard, and there is a stick- his preferred poking stick- in his belt. But his hands are tense on his spear.

Half a dozen grimlocks rush forward at the party. More are coming up behind them.

Jawbreaker thrusts forward with all his strength, roaring in pleasure as he connects. The spear catches one of the grimlocks in the chest, piercing its sternum and heart. Steaming blood bursts all down the barbarian halfling’s arms. He roars again, quickly jerking his spear free, and strikes at another!* This time his blow deflects partially from the eyeless creature’s ribs, tearing a great gash in it but not finishing it off. It growls and makes to leap at Jawbreaker, but then Laodegan catches its head with his sword, smashing through its cranium and brain. Yet another growls as an arrow from Thelonious zings into its thigh, and another still is tripped by the newcomer’s growling and barking dog. Ethel (Federico’s dog) rushes in barking and tears another to the ground in a much more brutal fashion.

The downed grimlock hacks at the dog of the newcomer, but misses. Meanwhile, another moves forward wearing a chain shirt and wielding, rather than the crude axes the others have, a sword surrounded by a flickering green glow. He springs forward and slices into Jawbreaker’s arm. The barbarian drops his spear and whips out his axe, smiling crazily as he begins to dance with the grimlock captain.

“That’s the leader!” cries the newcomer. She has somehow vanished, but she’s still audible.**

Thelonious keeps firing at the others, trying to whittle the fight down to the party vs. the grimlock captain. He is brutally effective, sending arrows into the wounded grimlocks, sinking one deep into one of the monsters’ genitals and slicing them clean off, killing the beast instantly. Another arrow bounces off of Laodegan’s armor when it goes astray. “Watch it!” the other human cries, even as he cleaves through one of the grimlocks and into another.

“Sorry!” Thelonious yells back, continuing to fire.

There is blood slicking the floor, now. The battle is nearly done. Only the leader is still standing, swinging and drawing another red line on Jawbreaker’s chest with the glowing sword, and then Ethel drags him down. Federico springs up to heal Jawbreaker and praise Ethel. “Good job, Ethel!” he cries.

The grimlock manages to parry Laodegan’s strike from the ground and kicks the dog away, but Jawbreaker laughs heartily as he steps up and sinks his axe into the grimlock’s chest as if it were a tree stump. There’s a loud chunk as the axe destroys the monster’s breastbone, heart and lungs. The glowing sword falls from its hand.

“Search ‘em,” Laodegan gasps. Then he looks around for the newcomer. “Where’s that girl?” he demands. “Come out!”

She reappears from the shadows, tiny and camouflaged. “I’m here.”

“Who are you?” the human demands.

“My name it Lita, of clan Alexander,” she replies. “We have to get out of here!”

“We need to get past them,” Thelonious says. “Were you down below? What’s going on down there?”

“I’m an adventurer,” she says. “I descended into the chasm, and there are those things.” She gestures at the bodies. “I was fleeing... I was afraid they were going to catch me and kill me. I couldn’t have taken them all by myself, that’s for sure.” She pauses. “You need to get past them? Well, there’s a stairway that goes up not far away from the bottom of this cave.” She gestures at the passage at the far end of the bridge. “That was their leader we just killed, so we might be able to break through while they’re confused.”

“Are they likely to send out another group?” whines Federico. “We need to rest.” His tail is between his legs.

“We could do it in the mushroom chamber,” suggests Thelonious, but Laodegan’s glare makes it abundantly clear what he thinks of that. “How about their side of the bridge, then? At least over there we’ll have a little more warning.”

“True enough,” Laodegan admits grudgingly.

They make camp after looting. In addition to the sword, the leader wore a chain shirt, and they also find a little over 300 gp in assorted coins and four garnets. Most interesting, they find 21 electrum coins. “These are obsolete,” says Federico. “Nobody really mints them anymore. They don’t really have a fixed value anymore, either, but they used to be worth about half a gold imperial.”

When the group divides up the treasure, Federico ‘forgets’ to include the electrum. The others gently remind him.

Then they rest at the side of the bridge farthest from the cave, setting fearful watches and giving themselves time enough to heal a little and recover from the terrible ravages of their recent adventures.

Midnight, between 5/4 and 5/5/368 O.L.G.

Once again Laodegan makes a futile attempt to talk sense into the mad halflings he’s fallen in with. “I have things to do, I can’t die down here!” he tells them. “Going into a grimlock village! It’s madness.”

“We’re not going into the village, we’ll be sticking to the edge of the cliff until we reach the stairs,” Lita says. “I think we’ll be able to get through while they don’t have a leader.”

“Besides, you keep saying you have things to do, but I think you’re making that up,” Federico says.

“Hmph! I’ll have you know that I have a letter for the Governor of Stempa Province!”

“And he’s here, in the mountains?” Federico asks sarcastically.

“As a matter of fact, yes- somewhere.” Laodegan harrumphs. “But my guide had the gall to go and die on me.”

“Let’s go,” Jawbreaker says impatiently.

They move across the bridge and down the sloping cave. “We might as well light torches, since they can’t see anyway,” Laodegan comments, and they do. The passage has obviously been hewn into the wall of the cliff here by long hard work. Rubble is to either side of the path that our short heroes (and their human friends) walk down. They are unopposed as they follow a series of switchbacks hacked out of the stone, descending for almost half an hour before finally, nervously, reaching the bottom.

“Carefully,” Lita whispers, and moves ahead. The others follow her.

Outside all is dark. Even if it were noon, it is doubtful that there would be any significant light that reached this far down. The group knows there are huts not far away. They swiftly follow the edge of the cliff. There are only scattered drumming sounds from the direction of the huts; the enthusiasm of the early pursuit of Lita has faded.

Suddenly there’s a howl, and a crude javelin clatters past Federico’s terrified head. “Look out, they’ve seen us!” the kobold cries.

The group moves swiftly, running full tilt for the stairs up the side of the mountain. There are more howls behind them and another pair of javelins misses them. The group rushes up the narrow stairway; it’s barely wide enough for two of them to travel side by side, and it’s too narrow to fight comfortably on. The sounds of pursuit follow them for a few minutes, but then the grimlocks give up, seemingly unwilling to go too far up the stairway.

“We made it!” Thelonious grins.

“We’re not at the top yet,” Laodegan snaps. The group climbs for several hours and finally emerges at the top in the sunlight of early morning. Then, clearly, it’s time to break for a meal.

Next Time: Our heroes finally reach the shiny thing! What is it?



*The ol’ ready action plus AoO from reach combo.

**Combo of shrinking to tiny size and chameleon. Her Hide check was something about 40, iirc.

 

[the Jester]

The Gnome-Home

1 p.m., 5/6/368 O.L.G., in the Stern Mountains, Strogass

“There it is!”

Tired, footsore, the halflings (and their allies) have at last crested the shoulder of the last fold in the land before the shiny thing they’ve been seeking since before Mama’s death. Below them, not a quarter mile away and only a few hundred feet below, is some sort of circular doorway leafed in gold and gems and set with dozens of reflective pieces of glass and polished stones. Federico lets out a low whistle; it’s very impressive to see.

Our heroes move towards it. There is a pair of gnomes out front, guarding the place, and inside twenty minutes the group has learned that they have arrived at the Gnome-Home. The entrance is a continuous, ongoing work of art; several large mirrors above the entrance itself in the mountains cast the lights of dawn for miles to certain specific places.

Laodegan fingers the hilt of the magic sword he took from the grimlock captain. On the journey a strange brain-like monster with what seemed like hundreds of tentacles had attacked them, but his new blade had made a noise like thunder and let out a flash of emerald radiance every time it had hit it- and obviously had done terrific damage to it. He didn’t understand why it hadn’t done that to the grimlocks, but the more the blade did the better, as far as he was concerned.

Our heroes are ecstatic to be able to rest for a few days, to have some civilized company and to be somewhere without the constant threat of attacking monsters hanging over their heads. They spend several days at the Gnome-Home, replenishing their supplies and enjoying a break. They manage to buy a healing potion and to have Laodegan’s new sword identified. Federico even finds a scroll for sale; it bears a spell he’s never heard of, delicious aroma, and he purchases it.

The sword, though of minor enhancement, was crafted to destroy some of the least natural creatures that exist. It is a bane to aberrations of all sorts. “What’s its name?” Laodegan asks the sage who identified it for him.

“Cleansing,” the gnome says in a nasal voice.

“Cleansing.” Laodegan frowns. “Doesn’t exactly inspire fear, does it? Not exactly a ‘Goresprayer’ or ‘Brainwrecker,’ is it?”

The gnome looks nonplussed. “I did not give it its name, I merely report it,” he answers sagaciously, and Laodegan doesn’t really have anything to say about that; but he does determine to rename the damn blade as soon as he thinks it over for a while.

10 a.m., 5/9/368 O.L.G.

Laodegan is impatient to get going. He and the kobold talked the others into hiring a guide, and the gnomes, fortunately for him, have given him the direction he needs.

He’s been following the Governor Bastor of Stempa Province for weeks now, since finding that he had left his capitol with a small army. It had seemed as though he was traveling from area to area, gathering the support of his vassals and trying to make accommodations with certain others. Laodegan frowns. At least the gnomes seem to know where he was- it’s hard to miss an army in the mountains!

But, from the sounds of things, at least some of Bastor’s army had gone underground, with the governor himself leading the way. They had descended, according to the gnomes, towards an outpost of dark elves.

The mysterious Drow- Laodegan has never met one, but he has a feeling he might well soon. As soon as the others finish their damn second breakfast and their guide- a fellow named Gelpurt- arrives, they can leave, heading into the Underdark. Fortunately, it sounds as though the waterway they’ll be traveling on will dump them out much closer to the halflings’ goal- some insane asylum. Fitting, really...


Next Time: Into the Underdark!

***

Cleansing- Longsword +1, aberration bane.

 

[the Jester]

Into the Underdark

11 a.m., 5/11/368 O.L.G., the Underdark beneath Strogass

Our heroes are tromping through the sunless world known as the Underdark. Beneath the mountains and hills, thousands of miles of tunnels and caves twist and interconnect, a maze sure to claim the unwary. The stalactites and stalagmites seem to make out the figurative mouth that will consume them. Pillars of stone are everywhere. Weird formations of rock seem to drip down walls and from the ceiling overhead, but when they are touched our heroes find them as hard as any other piece of stone. Moisture seems to be everywhere; little trickles of water are constantly following the downward path towards some unseen subterranean waterway. Weird puffballs, toadstools as high as a halfling’s head, luminescent fungus and more strange growths seem to exude from the walls and floor like strange organs.

The party has already ascertained that they are not alone down here.

Even without Gelpurt’s warnings, they would have smelled and heard the strange white cave lions. Their gnomish guide warned them as they entered the fungal area; the strange underworld bugs and beasts have a food chain of their own, and strangers are welcome to enter it- as prey. Already, the group has fought off one of them, which almost claimed Lita’s riding dog. If it weren’t for Ethel, it would have.

Thelonious and Laodegan walk together and have some good human bonding time. Thelonious explains how the halflings raised him after his parents were slain by wolves in a harsh winter during his youth. Laodegan, for his part, lets a few bits of his background show- it seems his father is someone very important on Strogass.

They walk and rest, walk and rest, walk and rest for days. There are many small beetles and other creepy-crawlies, but for quite some time there is no danger. Then, from a dark crack in the floor, a spider as large as a man, perhaps even larger, springs forth. It is easily killed by the two humans, who then spend a good hour unsuccessfully trying to pull anything of value from its jagged little chasm. Thelonious loses the game of scissors-paper-stone, and grudgingly lowers himself into the chasm. He can make out a few cocooned bodies, but it’s impossible to extract them without either a better climber, better gear, or magic.

Shrugging, they move on through league after league of darkness.

8 p.m., 5/13/368 O.L.G.

Finally, the sound of the waterway starts to be audible. Faintly at first, then increasing in intensity, the roaring sound of an Underdark river comes to the ears of our heroes. It’s another hour or so before they finally reach it, but when they do they are greeted by a startling sight: a small camp of Strogassian soldiers, sporting the flag of Stempa Province.

“Well, well,” Laodegan says with satisfaction, but to his chagrin he rapidly discovers that the Governor and his honor guard have proceeded ahead. The Commander in charge of the camp here, one Porempna by name, offers our heroes room in a tent. Laodegan and he meet for a few drinks of tiley and some conversation, during which Porempna becomes quite impressed by Laodegan’s manner and bearing. He seems like an officer- at least.

“The Governor is building alliance with a group of Drow, and they aren’t the first ones we’ve talked to,” Porempna tells Laodegan. “This looks, so far, to be an extremely successful journey.”

“Well, hopefully all will continue to go well. Now then, when will he be back? I have a very important message for him from my father.”

“Ah, as to that, who can say?” Commander Porempna shrugs. “The Governor does not report to me. He will be there for as long as it takes.”

“Perhaps you could take us there?”

Porempna shakes his head. “I’m afraid my orders are to remain here and ensure that the waterway remains clear for the return journey. You could leave the message with me, however, and I’ll happily see to it that it’s delivered.”

“I’m afraid my instructions are quite specific. I am to deliver it to him, personally. My father would be most displeased if I were to pass the responsibility to another. But on the other hand,” he leans in close, “he would be most pleased if you were to aid me, and he is definitely not the sort to forget a favor done his son. He is in a position of... some authority.”

Commander Porempna arches an eyebrow. “Indeed?”

“Yes. He is Imperator Decius.”

“Decius!” Porempna leans back in his folding chair. “So. I’ve always wanted to see the south... Well, perhaps I could loan you a few men and a boat...”

Laodegan smiles. Nothing like being the son of the steward of the Imperial City.


Next Time: The Outpost of the Drow!

 

[the Jester]

Governor Bastor

7 a.m., 5/14/368 O.L.G., the Stempan camp in the Underdark

Laodegan arrogantly claims four soldiers from Porempna’s force and then gathers the party up. They proceed to a series of small boats and thence down the dark river that flows through the caves. Along either side and above them are strange and colorful mineral deposits, weird formations of stone that look like dripping wax, and occasional growths of weird fungus and mold.

The flow of the water is languid; the soldiers pole along, helping avoid obstacles and keeping the small boats moving. Laodegan has chosen one named Feldikerar as his project and is trying to instill leadership in him, with mixed success. Hours pass; the group eats as they move. They see no end to the snaking waterway, which seems to gradually drop only a few score of feet as the time passes by. Finally the light of the lanterns on the boats resolves something ahead- a few rocky isles, with just enough room for the group to lie out and rest. The eternal darkness all around them makes our heroes wary, but their journey has made them weary, so rest they do, setting a watch.

1 a.m., 5/15/368 O.L.G., a small isle in the Underdark

Suddenly Thelonious and Laodegan snap awake. They can hear cries and shouts-

To their feet, weapons out, whirl and look: a giant crab has crawled out of the water and is snapping its great claws at Feldikerar! He’s already taken a wound to the shoulder, which is bleeding profusely, but he’s standing his ground. “Good show, Feldikerar!” cries Laodegan heartily, stomping forward with his blade. Arrows whiz past him and pierce the creature in several places as Thelonious employs his bow to good effect. The creature turns towards them and scuttles back a pace as Laodegan’s sword crashes into its shell ineffectually. Cursing, he parries its counterattacks, then lays into it again as Feldikerar jabs at it with his spear.

That’s more like it!

Another arrow shoots the crab in the eye even as Laodegan hews into its claw, dealing it a good amount of damage. Crab juice sprays all over as it starts to scuttle away, but it can’t escape now. Both Feldikerar and Laodegan land another blow, and the thing stops moving.

“Looks like we’ve got dinner for the next couple days,” Laodegan says cheerfully.

6 p.m., 5/15/368 O.L.G., along a waterway in the Underdark

Finally, after another day’s travel, the group reaches their destination, where they see a strange, huge purple jellyfish that rises into a gargantuan cavern. A large island in the center contains a gothic-looking tower. A small military force is camped on the edge of the island; the Stempan flag flies there.

“Finally!” declares Laodegan.

They reach the island and disembark, the soldiers meeting the challenge issued by the guards on the bank. They all recognize one another, of course, and it’s obvious that they’re glad to see each other. The party is escorted to the legate in charge of the camp, a man named Nauthrix. He sports an oiled black goatee and has a noticeable scar across the side of his face; clearly, he’s a veteran.

When Laodegan asks to speak to the governor, Nauthrix tells him, “Governor Bastor is in the middle of delicate negotiations with the Drow. I’m afraid he’s not available at the moment.”

“When will he be available?” Laodegan seethes.

Nauthrix shrugs eloquently.

“We’ll wait,” Laodegan snaps.

3 p.m., 5/18/368 O.L.G., the isle of Halli Cialu, the Underdark

Finally, after three days, the summons comes. Laodegan is escorted to a large tent in which he finds Governor Bastor, as well as a number of his advisors and officers- including several Drow. Their meeting is vague and full of innuendo, leaving Laodegan feeling uncertain how that all went when all is said and done. Laodegan delivers his scroll to Bastor- he’s not certain exactly what the message is, but he has a pretty good idea it involves testing Bastor’s loyalty- and watches intently as the man reads it, then burns it.

“I will prepare a response for your father,” Bastor says, “but I need some time to compose it. And I wouldn’t want it slowed by your journeys. You may move on and continue your work; I suspect you have more of these to deliver, yes?”

Laodegan confirms this, and the governor graciously gives a small boat to him. He gets the distinct impression the governor wants to be rid of him; but maybe it’s just the fact that he’s traveling with halflings.

11 a.m., 5/23/368 O.L.G., a river in the Underdark

At last, after days of river travel, the party sees light ahead. Its cold and damp, and they are overjoyed as they at last near the exit and sunlight. When they emerge, they don’t even care that they’re in the Buzzing Fens.

The Buzzing Fens are a low-lying area nestled between the Western Precipice and the Stern Mountains. A lot of water drains into the area, including, apparently, at least one Underdark river. Reeds and other swamp plants are everywhere, and mangroves, cypress and willows dot the landscape. Moss and slime covers everything, and the air buzzes with insects. The air smells of swamp gas.

The boat is useless now; the vegetation is too thick. But our heroes can see hills in the distance- and, according to Sandy, the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment lies in the hills just to the east of the Buzzing Fens.

The exhausted group-they’ve been sleeping in a small boat for days- starts slogging through the fens.

Next Time: Although you don’t usually get the explicit explanation for what’s up with the pcs who weren’t present for a session, you will next time, cuz it matters later! Our heroes head to the Asylum!

 

[the Jester]

The Buzzing Bowels

1 p.m., 5/23/368 O.L.G., on the edge of the Buzzing Fens, Strogass

“Oh, at last!” moans Federico. He’s shaking with fatigue; it has taken all his meager strength* to push through the muck, and now at last he can see the ground ahead is rising out of the swamp. He swats half-heartedly at the cloud of gnats that’s encircling him and grumbles, “This sucks. Ninety percent of all marshes suck.”

“Almost there, dog,” gasps Sandy, but he doesn’t look so well. It’s a warm day and the stinking air around the fens is full of moisture, but sweat is running in rivers from his face. He’s starting to shake, too. It seems that Sandy has caught something, either from the gasses or the bugs or the water or something. And he’s not alone. Lita is flagging, the same sweaty glazed look in her eyes. Ed and Trinia don’t look too good either.

The two humans lead the way as the ground gradually rises and becomes more solid, and then they’re at the first hill. Laodegan and Thelonious pull the others laboriously from the mucky ground and the group collapses on the hillside.

“Be right back,” groans Sandy, and he lurches to his feet and swiftly walks behind a screen of nearby bushes. He’s running when he’s halfway there, a screwed-up look of concentration on his face, then drops out of sight. A moment later, he returns, lacing up his trousers, but minutes later he’s back behind the bush- and the other sick ones are in similar straits.

“I recognize this,” Thelonious says. “I think they’ve come down with the buzzing bowels. It’s a disease native to the Fens. They’re going to be... fairly incapacitated until they throw it off. Uh, we’ll probably here a weird kind of flapping or buzzing noise sometimes when they, er, uh, when they’re indisposed.”

“Is it fatal?” Laodegan asks. Lita is struggling to her feet and stumbling behind the bushes.

“Not usually, but they won’t be able to travel very well, and they’ll be, uh, indisposed a lot. They’ll need a lot of fluids, but they’ll have a lot of trouble eating. Ah, that’s the noise I was talking about.”

The group soon sinks into unconsciousness, worn out by days of poor sleep in boats with no room to lie out. The sick people- and it seems like only Martini, Jawbreaker, Federico and the humans have escaped the ravages of the buzzing bowels. When they wake that night, the two humans go foraging for food and herbs along with Brother He’s dog, which Thelonious seems to be trying to adopt. His bow is at the ready; it seems likely that there’s some sort of game somewhere around here.

Apparently, to some creatures, they are the game.

Three humanoid reptiles, as tall as them, rush at them from the side of the hill. Both of the humans spot them, and Thelonious instantly reacts to take advantage of the fact that his bow is in his hands. He fires an arrow directly into the lead lizard man’s torso, and the reptile hisses and roars. It keeps coming, though, so he shoots it again and again. The last arrow goes wide as the enemy charges forward. Laodegan readies his sword and shield and assumes a fighting stance; it’s clear that he’s a well-trained warrior. The lizard men arrive, screaming and hissing, and Laodegan swings his green-glowing sword but misses. The monster that he’s dancing with slashes at him with its claws and wounds him, gouging his cheek; then it strikes him again on the left arm and tears a rent down it, ripping his shield off in the process!*** “Aargh!” Laodegan yells, and the beast steps in and bites his shoulder!

“Let him go!” Thelonious shouts, but he’s being assaulted by an enemy of his own- an enemy already holding two arrows in his body. Gritting his teeth, Thelonious takes a step back and fires an arrow. With a zisp! it sinks deep into the lizard man’s chest, and it drops. The ranger spins and fires a shaft at the one engaging Laodegan. Unfortunately, Laodegan is between Thelonious and the target- and the arrow strikes him square in teh back instead of hitting the lizard man! Already badly wounded, Laodegan cries out and falls face down in the grass, unconscious.

“Sorry!” cries Thelonious, and keeps firing. The one that was engaging Laodegan is an open shot now, and two arrows find its chest easily enough. It coughs a great gout of blood out and falls.

The final one lurches forward, having spent a few moments disabling the dog, and Thelonious lands a shaft in the side of its leg. It hisses and rushes him, tearing at his arm. He staggers back and fires again, but his arrows go wide.

Behind it, he sees Laodegan drag himself to his feet. With a glare, he charges the last lizard man, impaling it on the blade of Cleansing. The monster screams as Thelonious keeps backpedaling and firing arrows into it. Finally it falls.

“Whew! That was close!” Thelonious cries. “Sorry about shooting you- why don’t you come over here so I can dig that arrow out?” He wipes his brow. “Wow, I don’t feel so hot. I think I’m coming down with something...”

8:30 a.m., 5/24/368, the Brown Hills

Laodegan straps his sword belt on firmly. “Well, your Asylum is somewhere in these hills, and good luck to you. I have a job to do. It’s been interesting.” Shouldering his pack, he strikes off south.****

“Good luck,” Martini calls back. He shakes his head. I can’t believe he left before second breakfast.

Martini, Jawbreaker and Federico help the sick members of the group into a sheltered copse of trees and then discuss their next move. Jawbreaker climbs a tree and grunts, then shuffles down it. “Building,” he says, and points.

“How far?” Martini asks. Jawbreaker shrugs, so the group heads in the direction he had indicated. The sun is already bright; Federico puts on his motley cap and the group moves down one hill and starts up another, following the barbarian’s lead.

Suddenly, from a nearby bush, a tallfellow halfling- or a human child?- bursts out.***** He’s wearing a smock and he has a goofy smile on his face. “Yay, let’s play!” the tallfellow cries. He looks childishly pleased with Federico’s hat.

The kobold does a quick showy tumble. “Hi there!” he says cheerfully.

“Do you wanna play?”

Federico looks at the- boy? Halfling? He has no weapons, no armor, nothing at all save a simple smock that sees to lace up the back. “What are you doing out here with no protection?”

“I just got away from the place.”

Martini and Federico exchange a glance. Martini meanders to the side and little and confirms a guess: the smock has no back. It’s the kind of gown one gets in a hospital... or an asylum.

“The Asylum?” asks the kobold. “Are there doctors?”

“Yeah... they were nice... but now there are mean people.”

“What’s your name?” Martini asks.

“Timothy,” the... lad... answers.

“Are you a halfling, Timothy?” asks Martini, slightly puzzled by the child-like demeanor. He looks like a halfling, yet...

“I’m just a kid,” Timothy avows.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” the lad answers.

There’s a moment of silence as the group considers. Most humans are full-sized by twenty-two, that’s for sure. He must be a halfling, thinks Martini, but he saves the discussion for another time.

“Well,” Federico finally says, “we’re going to go back to the place to free some people who are wrongly held there against their will. Do you want to help us, Timothy?”

“Um, I don’t like the place.”

“Right! And you know, having been in there, just how bad it is, and how much we should free the people imprisoned against their will!”

“Um, I guess so. Yeah, I want to help let people out.”

“You said there were mean people there?” Martini interjects.

“Yeah, bad people. They were mean.”

“Did they touch you in your no-no place?” Federico asks in horrified fascination.

“They... they shocked me.”

“Oh no!” the kobold exclaims. “D-did they... were there chains?”

“No, but sometimes they’d put me in the jacket. Then you can’t move your arms.” Timothy pauses. “That’s what they do if you’re bad.”

“Oh, poor Timmy!” exclaims Federico, and to his shock, Timothy starts rocking back and forth and moaning.

“No, don’t say that! Don’t say Timmy! My name is Timothy! Timothy! I’m Timothy!”

“Oh, no! I’m sorry, it’s okay, it’s okay...” The three halflings try to console Timothy and slowly they bring him out of it with the aid of a fruit show put on by Federico. Soon the lad is laughing and engaged again, but his face tends to a peculiar blankness much of the time.

It’s time for lunch, our heroes realize. They break out their rations.


Next Time: What good is Timothy? Has he any useful talents? I guess we’ll see when- the dirt lobsters attack!


*Federico, you should know, has a strength score of 1.

**As mentioned previously, this is the excuse for the non-participation of the players who weren’t there for this session. (Interestingly, this post spans two games, thus Thelonious and Laodegan.) We pretty much hand wave this stuff, with just the barest nod to realism, but in this case the excuse comes up again in the (spoiler), and the disease itself came up again in our most recent game as well. Those silly Buzzing Fens!

***This was a crit; I have a ‘colorful critical hit’ system that has all kinds of fun effects on the victim, based on the severity of the crit. This one did less than half of Laodegan’s present hp, so the added bonus couldn’t be too severe.

****Unfortunately, due to some personal issues, Elder James hasn’t been able to play with us since this session. In general, if a player is long-term absent I try to retrofit an explanation for where they’ve been- witness also Thelonious’ earlier absence after Bellhold around the time of the jam contest.

*****Geez, tons of annotations this time. Tallfellows in my game look just like a young human child. Halflings can see the difference instantly, but most humans can’t, and one of the reasons the big folk tend towards prejudice against halflings is that tallfellows are notorious for taking advantage of the big folk by playing up on the child thing. Let’s just say that Timothy’s background is very... interesting.

 

[the Jester]

First off, a party update. At this point in the story hour, our heroes are:

Federico (CG kobold bard 3/sor 1)
Martini (CG halfling fighter 1/ranger 1)
Timothy (CG halfling who thinks he's a human sorc 1)
Jawbreaker (CG halfling barbarian 1)
Roscoe (CG halfling ranger 1)
Thelonious (NG halfling ranger 2)
Phenyl "Sandy" Sandybanks (rogue 2/fighter 1)
Lita Alexander (rogue 1/psion 1)

 

[the Jester]

Dirt Lobster

12:30 p.m., 5/24/368, in the Brown Hills, west-central Strogass

Martini pats his belly and burps gently. Now that the group is out of the Buzzing Fens- even if only barely- he can really enjoy his meals again. He looks around the group- many of them are sick with the buzzing bowels, but he, Federico and Jawbreaker can continue- along with their new companion, Timothy. A simple mind, escaped from the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment, Timothy is very child-like, yet withdrawn and blank-faced much of the time. And don’t call him Timmy, the ranger reminds himself, it freaks him out. Compassion blossoms in Martini like a rose. He wants to make sure the Asylum doesn’t get Timothy back. And they’ll never put me in a place like that, he vows. I’d rather die.

The party finishes tidying up their mess from lunch and then moves on into the hills in the direction Jawbreaker had pointed when he climbed the tree. Martini leads the way through the rough, scrub-covered hills. This part of Strogass is dry; it doesn’t seem to have rained much here lately, given how yellow most of the grasses are. Only hardy shrubs and the occasional small oak tree spring from the rocky dirt here. As they walk, Federico gives Timothy a cloak and helps him hood himself to hide his face. He also gives him a dagger- which he clutches in his right hand- and a torch, which he grasps tightly in his left, holding the two items up and in front of him. “This way they won’t recognize you at the Asylum!” Federico announces cheerfully. “You’re disguised, and we’ll just say you’re a boon adventuring companion!”

Martini the ranger picks a pathway for the group that is fairly straight on their direction, trying to avoid larger areas of jumbled rock and sharp slopes. As he moves he scans the ground ahead for signs of danger, and as his sharp eyes move over one area he sees movement.

“Beware!” Martini cries, as three beetles charge out from behind a set of bushes, their mandibles clicking loudly. They rush in to the group, trying to tear succulent chunks of flesh from the halflings, but our heroes backpedal and dodge enough to avoid any injuries. Then Martini pulls out his greatsword a deals a mighty overhand blow to one, cleaving it nearly in two! Its primitive form keeps moving, though barely. Jawbreaker, meanwhile, connects with another with his greatclub, smashing one flat! Greenish-yellow juice sprays out of it. The barbarian laughs heartily.

Federico is laboriously loading his crossbow, his tiny arms trembling with effort. His tail quivers between his legs.

The other two bugs, meanwhile, squirt jets of nasty brownish mist, somewhere between a vapor and a liquid, narrowly missing both Martini and Jawbreaker! A nasty, acrid smell puffs into the air, and where the mist hits a sapling behind Jawbreaker it burns and eats away at it.

“Bombardier beetles!” Martini cries.

Jawbreaker grunts, shrugs and smashes, destroying the other unwounded beetle in a single shot. He chortles gleefully as he spins to face the one that Martini cleaved almost in twain- just in time to see something splash out of Timothy’s hand! A green blob of acid whizzes past the bug harmlessly.

Federico has finally gotten his crossbow loaded and he grunts as he pulls it up to firing position. He pulls the trigger. Spang! His quarrel shoots into the last bug, breaking one of its legs and finishing it off.

The kobold runs forward. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!” he cries. “Dirt lobster!”

2 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G.

Roscoe Hempflower sniffs the air.

There’s something cooking. He can’t tell what it is, but it smells good. He scans the sky, spots the smoke and heads for it with enthusiasm. He’ll be careful on his approach, but if whoever’s cooking that looks friendly, he’s gonna have a little fresh meat.

When he gets close enough to see the cooks, it turns out it’s a couple of halflings and a kobold, which kind of rings a bell for him; and then he recognizes his cousin and approaches openly and with a grin. “What’s up, Cuz!” he shouts to Martini.

Martini looks quite surprised to see one of his clansmen out here, but they are halflings, after all, and they are known for their wandering ways. He greets Roscoe affectionately and introduces him to the others, and soon the group is all eating dirt lobster together. Federico is drooling eagerly long before it has cooked enough to eat, but he waits after burning his fingers reaching into the coals for some.

Then, having had dirt lobster for tea time, they suck the remaining juices from their fingers and continue on their way.

4 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment

Our heroes enter a clearing and halt.

“Th-that’s creepy,” Federico whines.

They stare at the building before them: the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.


Next Time: The Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment! What does that mean, and what’s going on here??

 

[the Jester]

The Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment

See more pictures of the Asylum here: link.

4 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment

“What’s that?” Roscoe asks, gaping at the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.

The intimidating building rises before them, several stories high. A number of smaller outbuildings are scattered around, and gardens of herbs and vegetables are in evidence as well. The main building itself is a large and imposing edifice that looks fairly well-kept.

“It’s an asylum,” Federico whimpers. “And a friend of one of our clan mates is held here unjustly against his will.”

“Who’s that?” Jawbreaker asks.

“His name is Norman, but I don’t know him. He’s a friend of Sandy’s.” Federico’s brow furrows. “Oh, no- how are we going to recognize him?” he whines.

“Maybe Tim here knows him. Do you know Norman, Timothy?” asks Martini.

Timothy’s blank face turns to regard the ranger. “Um, yeah. He’s in the place. He’s all right. He was never mean to me.”

“There we go,” Federico chirps. “Timothy can help us find Norman.”

“Let’s just go up to the front door and fight our way through the evil doctors,” Martini suggests. It seems as good of a way to start as anything, so our heroes walk up and try the door, but it is locked.

“We knock,” Jawbreaker grunts, pulling out his greataxe. He delivers a tremendous blow to the front door. There’s a booming sound as he wrenches the axe free. “Nice door,” he comments approvingly, noting its thickness and quality. He prepares to launch another blow, but suddenly a window above him on the wall opens up and a head pokes out.

“Who’s there?” cries the figure above. “What do you want?”

Before his companions can put their foot in their mouths, Federico does a quick, happy-looking somersault and cries out, “We’re performers! We’ve come to put on a show for you!” His friends keep their mouths shut, trusting the kobold to speak for them.

“What- why did you chop into our door? Who’s going to pay for that?!”

“Why, that is our way of knocking. It’s how we announce ourselves, with drama! And we’ll gladly pay for repairs from the charges we render to you for our performance!”

“But- what- “

“Can we speak to someone in charge?”

Confused by Federico’s sweet tongue and cordial manner, the man’s head withdraws into the building and the window shuts. The kobold turns to his companions. “Okay, so be ready to attack!” he exclaims.

“I don’t know,” Martini says. “Are we sure these guys are evil?”

”They’re holding Norman unjustly against his will!” Federico retorts.

“Are we sure about that? I’m just saying that we shouldn’t be too rash-“

The front door opens. A human man, dressed in a doctor’s coat, stands there, flanked by two orderlies with saps and shortswords. “I’m Doctor Zimmer,” the doctor declares. “What’s going on here?”

“Why, we’re a traveling show, a troupe of sorts, and we wish to perform for the inmates here, to ease the burden of their suffering!” Federico blathers. He goes on at length for a few moments until finally Dr. Zimmer manages to get in a reply.

“Unfortunately, the inmates here are not all in their right minds,” he says. “Different triggers will cause different effects in some of their minds, some of which could be counterproductive to their treatment. We are here to make them well, and you cannot possibly know what sorts of things would cause them distress. I am afraid performing for them is out of the question. However, I’ll be more than happy to allow you to put on your show for the staff this evening.”

“Oh- but our show is light-hearted and harmless-“

“You cannot possibly understand the delicacy of the minds we are dealing with, and the treatments. Some of the dangers are unspeakably subtle in this sort of work. For example, we have a patient who is upset by certain loud noises. We cannot risk an incident. It is out of the question.”

“Very well, then the staff- we shall entertain your staff!”

“Yes, this evening, once our tasks for the day are done.” Dr. Zimmer smiles. “It has been too long since we have seen performers here. We appreciate your presence. Feel free to set up there,” he gestures, “there should be plenty of room and you won’t be in the way of anything. If you need anything let us know, we have stores of food and some drink.”

“Why, that would be fantastic!” Federico answers.

With that, the doctor and the orderlies withdraw. Our heroes walk a hundred yards away, to their designated set-up area, and pitch their tents. As they are finishing making their camp, a pair of workers come out carrying a wheeled table, set with fruits, pastries and cheese, and set it up near the camp site. “Courtesy of Dr. Zimmer,” one of them calls. Jawbreaker pokes a piece of fruit with his stick, then grunts and starts eating.

“Was Dr. Zimmer nice, Timmy?” asks Martini.

“No- no, don’t say that! Don’t say Timmy!!” The ex-inmate starts rocking back and forth. “I’m Timothy- I’m Timothy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, you’re Timothy! Yes, Timothy!” Martini slowly calms the insane tallfellow. “Now, what can you tell us about Dr. Zimmer?”

Timothy gradually relates that Dr. Zimmer used to be nice, but things changed a while back. He started to seem to enjoy cruelty. Our heroes exchange worried glances.

As the afternoon wears on, a group of inmates comes out of the asylum, led by another doctor into the garden, where they peacefully set about weeding after the doctor gives the patients a quiet talk. “Oh, that’s the garden,” Timothy says simplistically. “I like the garden.” Federico wanders over towards the garden to get a closer look and a listen, and finds that it’s some sort of outdoor therapy used to try to connect the patients to the world around them.

”I’m not so sure that they’re evil,” Martini says nervously after the kobold reports what he overheard. “But I don’t like this place. I don’t like the idea of people being locked up.”

“Look,” grunts Jawbreaker, gesturing with his chin. An orderly with a tea service is coming out of the asylum, walking towards them, and Dr. Zimmer is with him.

“Oh, it’s tea time!” enthuses Federico.

The doctor has come to chat with them over tea, and chat they do, the party becoming increasingly uncertain about the kick-in-the-door-and-kill-everyone approach they had sort of been expecting to use. Timothy stays hidden in the back of the party, clutching his dagger and torch. Zimmer claims to have worked at the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment for 12 years.

At one point he asks them if they know of psionics.

Federico tells Dr. Zimmer about the crystals in Bellhold. “They were c-creepy. This goblin was putting them in the heads of children, and they would... freak out. It gave them weird powers.”

“Bellhold, eh?” Zimmer muses.

The conversation continues for a while longer, and then Zimmer, charmed by Federico’s eloquence, offers the group a tour. Timothy declines faintly and Martini demurs as well, deciding that Timothy probably needs a watchdog. But a tour of the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment?

Federico and Jawbreaker can’t resist, and a few minutes later they’ve left all weapons behind and passed through the front doors and into the locked asylum beyond.


Next Time: What exactly is “advanced mental treatment,” anyway?

 

[the Jester]

Advanced Mental Treatment

5:20 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., inside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment

The heavy doors are closed and locked, and Federico and Jawbreaker glance around nervously. Neither has a weapon with them- even the mere sight of a weapon might upset certain inmates of the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment. The foyer is so clean that the tiles of the floor gleam. There are several doors and a hallway that lead away from it.

“The first floor,” says Dr. Zimmer, “is where all the communal rooms are. For example,” leading them down the hallway and past a number of open rooms, “down here we have a series of work and play rooms for inmates who are relatively well-adapted. The kitchens and dining rooms are also on this level.” As they walk, Jawbreaker and Federico see a doctor performing some sort of group speech therapy with a group of patients, a few people snacking in another comfortable-looking sitting room and several off-duty interns lounging around. “Ah, over here are the baths... storage, of course- feeding an institution of this size this far away from a city is an art all its own- and from this window here you can see the sunset. It’s no ocean view, but it is nice enough nonetheless. This level is also where the doctors live- our private chambers, also the private offices of those who have them.” He smiles broadly at the two halflings and adds, “Most of the other staff- such as the orderlies, janitors and so forth- stay in outbuildings, though. That’s about it for this level- let’s go on up to the second.” He leads the group to a stairway that heads up.

As he pitter-patters up the stairs, Federico thinks, So far everything seems okay... I hope there isn’t a terrible surprise waiting for us! I hope they don’t try to lock us up here or something! He shivers, his tail between his legs, as he ascends the stairway. Jawbreaker is keeping his mouth shut, but he doesn’t like this place at all. It doesn’t make any sense to him anyway- what the hell is this place doing out here in the middle of nowhere anyhow? And what does Advanced Mental Treatment mean, anyway?

“The second floor,” Dr. Zimmer explains, “mostly houses our inmates.” The stairs lead up to a long, horseshoe-shaped hallway lined with doors. All of them are locked shut, and most have small shuttered windows in them. “We can look in on certain selected ones through the viewing windows,” he explains, “but there are some to whom even looking in on them would be terribly dangerous.”

“Some with mind powers?” Federico asks timidly.

“Some, yes. Some are simply extremely dangerous. In any event,” Zimmer opens the shutter on one of the viewing windows on a door, “here is an interesting fellow. He thinks that Bleak talks to him, but there is no evidence of divine visitation or magic. Of course, there is always a small chance that Bleak does talk to him, but all the evidence is against him.” He shrugs, closing the window, then shows Jawbreaker and Federico an empty cell.

Jawbreaker looks around uneasily. It’s a small, confined space; there isn’t much to it. He would absolutely hate being locked up in there. He would rather die. He glances uneasily at the orderlies accompanying them on their tour, but nobody tries to lock him up- at least not yet.

“The third level is special,” Dr. Zimmer comments. “It’s where we perform our more advanced therapies.” He halts at the top of the stairs. “You must understand that our techniques may appear unorthodox, but we are well-trained professionals and have a great deal of experience with these things. Our therapies really work.”

Jawbreaker grunts. Federico nods nervously.

Dr. Zimmer leads them on. “Our therapies vary with the patient’s needs. Some, such as this, might seem silly.” He opens a door. Beyond it is a large chamber dominated by a great window to the outside. Before the window are a series of metal rods contrived into a sort of sawhorse-shaped construction. Near the ceiling a long bar runs as the sawhorse’s back; from this dangles a swing, facing the great window. Dangling from the seat of the swing are several shackles. “Some of our more violent patients find the combination of the swinging motion and the view soothing, and sometimes they have to be shackled in to avoid incidents, but the swing here can do long-term good for some of the most badly deranged of our patients.”

Jawbreaker snorts.

“There are many other types of advanced treatments that we perform, as well- for example, different drug therapies- but the only therapy ongoing at this point in time is down here in this chamber.” He strides to a door, followed by our heroes. “Steel yourselves,” he warns, and throws open the door.

“Oh God!” cries Federico.

The room is garishly lit by brightly-burning oil lamps. Several metal tables are in the chamber, occupied by patients who are strapped down into immobility. Straps even run across their foreheads and throats. One of the men is moaning in fear and his head is bloody. Orderlies and doctors cluster around them.

“It’s called trepanation,” Dr. Zimmer explained.

The doctors around the bloody-headed man dab up much of the blood, revealing a hole in the top of the man’s skull. One of them pulls out a vial of fluid and slowly pours it into the hole. The man quivers, his eyes roll, and he gives out an inarticulate shout; then he slumps in his straps. The other man is just beginning to have the hole drilled.

Federico and Jawbreaker flee the room.

Dr. Zimmer follows them, nodding sympathetically. “It’s certainly a traumatic sight. I tried to warn you.”

“Does that... does that help people?” Federico asks incredulously.

Dr. Zimmer nods. “The right people, if their condition is right, can be greatly aided by it.”

“Lets the demons out,” Jawbreaker grunts, nodding. Zimmer looks at him in surprise.

“Something like that.”

“Do they ever die?”

Dr. Zimmer hesitates. “Accidents do happen, of course, but it’s extremely rare. We’re very careful, and frankly, the sort of people these treatments are designed to help are usually so dangerous that they’ll never be released if they aren’t successfully treated. Better some chance than none, eh?”

“You have patients that are dangerous?” Federico asks.

“Oh, yes. We have dangerous patients indeed,” Dr. Zimmer sighs. “We even have a mass murderer.”

“What his name?” Jawbreaker growls.

“Manson,” Zimmer tells him.

“I think it’s time I went to prepare for your show,” Federico quivered.

7:00 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., just outside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment

Federico puts on a one-man show. He does his fruit act, he uses his best self-deprecating humor, he pulls out all the stops.

He bombs.*

But he keeps the staff’s attention while Jawbreaker tries to sneak inside. With Timothy’s assistance, they can hopefully identify the person they’re here to liberate- Norman- and break him out with nobody the wiser. And then hopefully beat a hasty retreat to more pleasant ‘wheres! Jawbreaker scales the outside of the creepy Asylum, going up to the great window on the swing room. He gets to it fairly easily, but once up there he realizes that the window doesn’t open.

With a grunt, he pulls his greataxe free and swings at the glass as best he can. He loses his grip on the wall in the process, but dashes a great hole in the window. And Federico’s show has drowned out the noise. Though he’s badly wounded by the fall, Jawbreaker grunts in satisfaction. Unfortunately, he’s too badly wounded to go on to stage two of the plan and secure a rope for the deer-eyed Timothy. Kid looks well-intentioned, but scared. And definitely some kind of half-wit.

9:15 p.m.

Federico slumps dejectedly back into the camps. “I don’t think they liked my show,” he whines. “Those d-doctors make me nervous.” He shudders in revulsion, thinking about the... the procedures he witnessed earlier. “We can’t let them take Timothy back, we can’t let them do that to him!” he groans desperately.

Jawbreaker limps over to him. “I broke window, but no rope. Fall,” he explains.

Federico casts a pair of bardic cure light wounds on his barbarian pal, and then he looks at him seriously. “If you could secure a rope up there, we could probably all negotiate our way up it, especially if someone could carry me.”

“I don’t wanna go back in the place,” Timothy moans.

“But you want to help people, don’t you Timothy?” Federico asks. He smiles brightly. “We’ll keep you safe. We won’t let them take you back.”

“Okay,” says Timothy.


Next Time: Things get out of control!

 

[the Jester]

Things Get Out of Control at the Asylum

9:30 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., just outside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment

Jawbreaker grins to himself as he scales the wall of the Asylum. There are lots of ledges and sills for him to grab onto; it’s certainly no more difficult than some of the cliffs he scaled as a lad with his tribe.

His dead tribe. Once more, under his breath he curses all giant-kind.

Finally his groping fingers reach the sill of the broken window. Jawbreaker grunts as his hand grasps a glass shard, slicing his hand, but he ignores the pain. His muscles bunch as he easily hoists himself into the chamber with the bondage swing. He glances around warily before moving quickly to lock the door. Then, chortling softly to himself, he secures his rope to the frame of the swing and throws the other end out the window. A glance down reveals his friends starting to ascend. First Martini, then Roscoe, then a reluctant Timothy work their way up. Finally only Federico remains below.

“Can you pull me up?” the kobold whines quietly. “And maybe Ethel?” Jawbreaker and Martini haul the rope up, first bringing Feddie’s riding dog tied in a harness and then bringing up Federico himself. He clings to it with all of his meager strength, and when he reaches safety at the top he lets go with a groan and shakes his tired arms.* Then they look around, Roscoe pulling out his bow nervously.

“Well,” Federico says nervously, “I guess we need to find Sandy’s friend Norman now, right?”

Martini nods. “I’m guessing he’s on the second floor somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s where we stay,” Timothy mutters vacantly.

“All right, then,” Federico whispers. “We’ll need to go down a level....”

Ethel suddenly starts growling, and Roscoe whips out an arrow and fits it to the string of his bow. With an inarticulate cry he lets it fly! Federico whirls to face the direction Martini’s cousin shot, and he sees a terrifying creature seemingly forming from the air itself! It looks like a roughly spherical blob of sickly pink and grey fleshy material, covered in gold eyes and sharp-fanged mouths! Tentacles trail from its body, with two particularly large ones seemingly serving as legs. The arrow strikes it and it quivers for a moment, but it is difficult to tell whether it is actually harmed. The things starts moving forward, biting for Timothy but missing, and Jawbreaker gives out a wordless scream of terror and cowers back in a corner.

Ethel and Martini spring forward, the dog biting savagely while the halfling swings his greatsword into it. Roscoe keeps up his barrage of arrows, landing another deeply in the monster. It lets out a wet squealing sound and surges at Timothy again, but he manages to dodge it, hurling a series of acid splashes before and after.

Finally Martini lands a severe blow, cutting deeply into it and slicing it almost in two. The oily monster collapses and starts to smoke; in less than a minute it has bubbled and evaporated into nothing, leaving only a greasy stain on the floor to mark its passing.

“What the hell was that?” Martini growls, but nobody knows. “Have you seen those things here before, Timothy?”

“No...”

The ranger shakes his head. This place is not good, he thinks firmly.

Jawbreaker doesn’t say anything, but he’s embarrassed by his fright against the monster.

The group cautiously moves to the door and unlocks it. Jawbreaker throws it open, axe in hand, and springs immediately at the orderly outside. The human never even has time to draw his sword. His axe sinks deeply into the chest of the orderly, and blood fountains. With only a minimum amount of noise, the orderly crumples.

The group eases itself into the hall. Timothy looks away from the bloody body of the orderly. “The stairs are that way,” Federico whispers, gesturing to the right. The party begins to move down the hall, and then down the stairs. The hall below is shaped like a U; along it are doors to all the cells. There are small windows at eye level for a human- which means our heroes can’t see through them due to their short stature. Jawbreaker moves next to the stairs down to the first level, his bloody axe at the ready.

“Do you know which room is Norman’s, Timothy?” Martini asks. Timothy shakes his head. Martini purses his lips. “We’ll have to find him another way.” He moves over to one of the rooms. “Hello in there!” he calls.

He hears the sounds of movement, but there is no reply.

“We’re looking for someone,” Martini continues. “Um, someone held against his will. We want to help him.”

“I am held against my will.”

Martini’s interest is piqued. “Who are you?”

“I am the Emperor of Forinthia!”

“Um, sure you are. Well, thanks, but we’re not looking for you.”

“Who are you looking for?” the patient asks.

“Someone named Norman.” Martini sighs.

“I am Norman!” the voice claims from within his cell.

“Really?”

“No! He lies!” cries another voice from a different cell. Obviously someone else is listening. “I am Norman!”

“No, it is I- Emperor Norman of Forinthia! If you free me, I will reward you with a million gold pieces!”

“No!” cries a woman’s voice from yet another cell. “I’m Norman. Me, me, me, me...”

And then a cacophony of voices from dozens of cells: “No, it’s me!” “I’m the real Norman!” “No, they’re lying, you want me!” “Free me, I’m Norman!” “No, I’m Norman!” “Please, I am the real Norman!”

“Oh no,” Federico moans, “we’ve roused the loonies.”

“They’re making a lot of noise,” Roscoe comments pointedly, and just in time.

Suddenly an orderly rushes up from below, a sap in his hand. As he sees our heroes his eyes widen. “Stop!” he shouts. “Intruder- AAGH!”

Jawbreaker’s axe crashes into his chest and the orderly drops in another spray of blood. His body rolls down the stairs. “Uh oh,” Jawbreaker grunts, and glances at the others. “More coming, hurry up!” he calls.

“Oh man, what do we do now?” Federico groans.


Next Time: What will our heroes do? How will they find Norman? And who else will they let free in the process?


*Never forget that Federico’s strength is 1. Just for the record, Timothy’s wisdom is 3 and there are several other very low wisdom and strength scores in the party...