The Goodman Gang in The Mysterious Tower

[Goonalan]

It lacks depth and it's far too disjointed. While there will be an overarching campaign arc it's not something that figures greatly in actual play, therefore I have to superimpose it later, same with character development. The Lost Boys is easy and fun to write, they're that silly- really. The Lost Boys are also more memorable, for me at least, The Goodman Gang (the players) know the rules and how to make the most of their spells, abilities etc. although they're a little head-on at times. The players want to play D&D, the dice rolling game, not hang around in bars and develop their characters, it's a ludology vs narratology debate, the Goodman Gang play because like what they can do, and love the gameplay. The Lost Boys have really very little idea of what the rules are, or their characters full potential, so they overcome the various encounters by shouting as much as stabbing, they've no fear- try convincing a gurning twelve year old that Grand Alf will probably not last long against the assorted Goblins if he tries to "punch them out", or that the Paladin is a fearless warrior and shouldn't, probably, shout "run away", or, "leggit" every other encounter. And the Lost Boys argue, with each other mostly, and while it's frustrating as a DM it's narrative gold because they're making it all up as they go along, and their characters- and their views and opinions, their foibles and and traits are getting bigger and bigger as the game goes on.

I realise that the reason why the Goodman Gang's story sucks, to me, is because we don't have time to do anything else- we meet, we play; by which I mean dive into the scenario, apres a little shopping, the players don't want to do anything else. In game the players talk to each other, it's the only time we see each other, but don't talk in character, or at least very little.

So... I didn't do any updates last week because of time, and because I was thinking of abandoning it for a bad job, I'm not Lazybones, I wish I was though, but prose is not my speciality... which gives me an idea, after this scenario's done (I've already written it to the end), then the next I'm going to try to stand back a little more- we'll see if I can do it. If not I've had another idea for a style change in the scenario after that...

Hey-ho, we'll see.

Thanks for the feedback as always.

 

[Pedestrian]

It lacks depth and it's far too disjointed.

You've hinted at these feelings quite a lot Goonalan. I'm going to say I think you are flat out wrong. Often times, writers are their own harshest critics, and I think you are suffering from the same thing.

There's plenty of depth in your story. Cas's coming to terms with what it means to be a leader, the relationship between him and Ala, Ala and Newt, Bec's low-key psychosis, Jim's nervousness coupled with his obvious valour, Newt's love/hate feelings towards the rest of the group. All of these characters, I feel, could come to blows over a red cow, and we, the reader, would be both deeply concerned how things had reached this end, and hopeful for a positive conclusion.

As for the disjointedness? These are young people, in dangerous situations. I mentioned before about your use of pacing. I like the quick shifts of focus, moving from character to character. It models both the panicked pace of the situations they are in, and also is a nonintusive representation of the way in which encounters are worked in dungeons and dragons. Yet when the action returns to a more sedate situation, you slow it down, working in more detail as the characters themselves have more time to work in the detail.

You're also commenting on having to make stuff up, fleshing out the skeleton that is made in game. To draw from my own experiences both gming and writing the events, I can tell you that I at least also bulk things up. The thing I try to keep in mind is that I am trying to capture the spirit of what went on at the table, even if I didn't get a 100% accurate retelling - which would be hard, given I usually leave about half a week between beginning the write up, and take up to a week to complete each entry.

It's all good stuff here, Goonalan, and you are doing a smashing job. It's ok that you perhaps aren't fond of the style you are using, and by all means change it if that's the case, but don't put down the style you are using, which is engaging, and effective. It's snappy, it's quick, it's conducive to the web-forum format but it doesn't miss details where needed.

 

[Goonalan]

Bloody hell... I mean, Bloody Hell (try it with astonishment).

That's the nicest thing anyone's said in a while, and on the money with the characterisation. Bugger, I'm going to have to write some more.

Honestly, thanks, for taking the time to renew my faith, in lots of things.

Very much appreciated. No really, I mean... Bloody Hell.

Onwards, ever onwards... hope this one's not too bad.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​

Turn 31: The Diddymen.

“Where now?” Newt squeaks and grins.
Anya stares at the map; she points the way- “there”, she squeaks back.

The adventures head off down the tunnel.

Bec is the largest of the Diddymen, or rather people, just a little over one-and-a-half feet tall; the Barbarian, Jim, and Cas are however bulging with muscles, at least for their size- Anya has managed to successfully cast all three of the ‘Bull’s Strength’ spells they found in the locked scroll case.

Newt, on the other hand, is tiny, a little less than nine inches tall, and weighing well… almost nothing at all.

Anya shimmers, her Mage Armour scroll takes effect.

“Remember silver or magical weapons.” Cas squeaks, then heads on.

Barely has he finished the words when ahead comes the sound of squeaking, and not from any members of the Goodman Gang this time.

“Rats.” Newt warns.

Bec charges into the fray, there are over a half-a-dozen of the rodents, each as big as an adventurer; he swipes wildly, and misses.

Fwung.
Fwung.

Newt fires, catches one of the creatures in the throat, it gargles, collapses, and dies. Anya’s crossbow sings, the tiny bolt lodges in the Rat’s maw; it swallows, chokes, hiccups and turns belly-up. Two down.

“Charge” Cas shouts/squeaks.

The second wave hits- Ala slashes and connects, leaving a bloody trail, another Rat flops down dead. Cas stabs forward, another one bites the dust. Jim charges into another, an over-arm blow with his axe- dead.

Five killed in the brief exchange the other Rats flee.

Fwung.

Newt pegs another; it sinks to the tunnel floor, kicks a while, and then expires.

“It’s not bad… being short.” Newt finishes.

They move on- towards a larger chamber ahead, they can feel the change in the air movement, the muddy tunnels seem to breathe, at least echo with the winds passing.

Anya pushes to the front, her wand ready, eager to get an attack in.

The chamber ahead is only ten feet in diameter, but appears huge to the shrunken adventurers, as do the two Badgers that squat at the far side of it, bristling with anger- snarling, and standing, rather towering, over them the Werebadger, Tarn, back in half-Badger half-Man form. Still wounded and yet much healthier looking than before.

Tarn spots them, notches an arrow and lets it fly, and then another.

FWUNG
FWUNG

The first missile shatters into the stone wall by Ala’s head, the second strikes Cas, but only a glancing blow.

Newt is first to react, he tumbles into the chamber, comes up hidden behind a large rock, dodges into sight and fires; another poisoned crossbow bolt shoots towards the Werebadger.

Fwung

And hits, but it’s only a pin-prick in the creatures matted fur.

Then the poison strikes, Tarn stiffens and then just as suddenly relaxes, much diluted the poison has no effect.

“Kill them my furry fiends.”

Tarn sneers; the Badgers rush to obey.

The furious creatures smash into the front rank- Cas and Anya.

Anya is caught by a flailing claw, blood bubbles to the surface, she dodges hard right and out of the melee- Bec fills the gap, swings hard and leaves a bloody gash on the Badgers snout, the creature instinctively backs away. The second Badger claws at Cas, with the same result- a line of blood appears along his forearm

Anya fumbles for a scroll, gets it right, and intones in a whisper- a haze of floating lights appear, circling the giant Werebadger’s head, Tarn shakes and twitches once or twice, tries to clears the fog the Daze spell has conjured in his mind, he fails and is left standing statue silently shaking.

Jim leaps into the fray, swings hard at a Badger, and connects, and yet the creature just snarls some more and launches its counter attack, Jim dodges back, just in time, the giant Badger snaps its jaws shut on empty air.

Ala steps into the fray, slices with all her might, but misses by some distance, the Badger rears up ahead of her, ready to lunge down upon her, pummel her, smash her into the cold stone floor, Cas steps into the gap, swings hard, and splits the beast open- guts and innards tumble out, he dodges back as it deflates and collapses.

He’s not done however; the Paladin dodges past the fresh corpse, and hurtles towards Tarn.

“To the death.”

He cries.

Thwung

A silver crossbow bolt protrudes from the giant Werebadger’s thigh, still dazed; it doesn’t make a sound, nor register the hit.

The second Badger snaps and claws at Bec, full of Rage at its partner’s demise, the Barbarian however is too quick for it, he dodges right and round to the side of the creature, slashes and slices- the Badger finally ceases its struggle and collapses.

Anya fumbles another scroll out, another Daze spell aimed at Tarn, this time however the magic founders, Tarn shakes his head more violently, he’s coming out from under her spell.

“Charge.”

This time it’s Jim who sounds the call, catching up with Cas, Ala swiftly follows in.

The Paladin rushes forward and round-house cuts, his sword strikes a stone on the floor and leaps from his grasp, his momentum sends him tumbling forward, flat on his face, prone before the terrible creature. He struggles to rise, looks up, and up, and up at the towering figure that blinks and comes alive, grins down at the sprawling Paladin, as it looms over him.

Tarn drops his bow and plunges forward onto all fours, sinks claws and teeth into Cas’ back and shoulders, rakes and rips- shreds the Paladin.

The creature stays low to the ground, over the now unmoving Paladin, pressing him down, crushing Cas into the cold stone floor.

Newt scurries forward, crouches behind another fallen rock.

Thwung

He misses.

Bec and Anya lumber forward to meet the seemingly invincible foe, the latter intoning another spell en route, a cold white Ray of Frost lances out and burns a freezing patch into the Werebadger’s side, it hardly seems to notice.

Jim arrives, still charging, rolls under the Werebadger’s swipe and slices, leaving a shallow cut in his axe’s wake. Ala follows Jim in, trying to get to Cas, but is sent scurrying back as the creature lashes out again, she dodges the blow and brings her longsword down on the its clawed hand, another hit, another line of blood- and yet it only serves to further enrage the creature.

A massive clawed hand smashes down and around, thumps into Ala, knocking the wind out of her- leaving her breathless, barely clinging onto her sword, then in the same motion lifts and flings her into the air, sends her flying, spinning backwards, she crashes into the cold stone floor a dozen feet away- unmoving.

Newt presses himself into the stone; his hands shake as he applies another dose of poison to a silver crossbow bolt, he gulps and stares hard at Ala’s crumpled form.

Bec sees his opening, dodges into range and beneath the Werebadger’s thickly furred neck, stabs up and buries half his sword’s length into the creature’s throat; blood spurts out, showering him as he withdraws the blade.

And yet the thing fights on, even as it bleeds, it reverses a little, then snaps its jaws shut on the spot where Bec had just been standing, the Barbarian dances backwards grinning insanely.

Anya points and mumbles; a bolt of force, a Magic Missile, thumps into the Tarn’s side, the Werebadger winces.

Jim leaps in and slashes wildly, nearly over-balances, he catches himself as he stumbles closer, his axe swipe well wide of the mark, and at the last instance dodges back, out of reach, avoiding the creature’s reaction swipe. Buoyed by his non-fatal mistake the Ranger steps into the fray again, axe before him he challenges the fell creature.

“Is that all you’ve…”

And is crunched, a huge clawed hand mashes him into the cavern floor, Tarn reaches down, lightning quick, and bites and gnaws on one Jim’s flailing legs, the Ranger kicks, scrambles and screams and somehow manages to struggle free of the creatures grip- his lacerated leg produces a slick of blood that soaks through his breeches in an instant.

Newt pops up for a second, takes in the situation, “feck”, and then aims and fires.

THWUNG

The bolt hits home, buries itself in the side of the Werebadger’s skull, the creature instantly stops what its doing- looks around, suffers some sort of ‘where am I?” moment, followed by a “who am I?” moment. Then the poison swirls into Tarn’s brain, it shakes its head, letting lose a shower of blood and slather, roars like it’s the end of the world.

“To the death.” It finally whispers, and then grins.

The poison has no effect.

Newt slumps down hard, hidden behind his rock eerie, “well I’m out of ideas”, he intones, but there’s no one there to hear him.

Bec, fortunately, is a lot more single-minded, or stupid, I forget which- he slashes again at the huge beast before him, misses as Tarn shuffles back, a cascade of blood and bile leaking from his wounds.

“Kill it for Pelor’s sake, kill it.”

Anya screams, invoking a god she certainly doesn’t believe in, her voice is steady and yet her hands shake and fumble as she tries again to load her crossbow.

Jim struggles to his feet, drags his axe behind him, the stumbles into a half charge and slashes again, either it’s his vision, or, well… it’s just that Jim’s not that hot when it comes to the toe-to-toe stuff, his blow sails well wide, thung’s into the stone floor almost sending the weapon shuddering from his hands. He stumbles backwards, overbalancing, at the same instant a clawed hand slashes forward; he’s just out of reach.

“Damn.” The Ranger whispers, then, “please… this time.”

Then he spots something, or rather someone, moving, “CAS”, he screams.

The Paladin levers himself up a little, shakes his head- woozy still, and attempts to get his bearings.

The Werebadger follows Jim’s scream, snakes its head down, and spots the Paladin rising, it steps forwards, not back, and brings one clawed foot hard down, slamming into Cas’ chest, crushing him down onto the floor again. Tarn transfers his weight to the back leg pinning the Paladin, ribs crack, crunch and break. Cas wretches and coughs up a river of blood, he flails wildly, no air, no breathe, no last words, almost lost to the dark.

Thwung

Another silver crossbow bolt bites into the Tarn’s flesh, The Werebadger spins back round, the pressure on the Paladin’s chest recedes, blood bubbles from Cas’ mouth as he takes another breathe. Newt slumps against the rock, closes his eyes, remembers to breath, then fumbles to load another bolt, he’s crying.

Thwung

Anya’s shot flies high and wide.

“Damn, damn, damn…” She mutters while trying to slot another bolt into the weapons mechanism, the bolt dances in her hands, she can’t seem to get a grip on it.

Bec rushes into range again, lances his sword forward, then staggers back with the effort, the blade doesn’t even cut the creature’s flesh, the Barbarian dodges but it looks to the untrained observer to be nothing more than a slurred stagger, much too slow, he’s caught by a clawed hand, sent tumbling back, head-over-heals, comes to rest nearly ten feet away.

The Barbarian lies on his back, his blinking eyes trying to focus on something, anything, “I deserve this”, he thinks and then levers himself back onto his feet, stands tall and sucks in a huge lungful of air, he swiftly bends then crouches, stars fill his vision, the blackness between the myriad points of light looks inviting- calm, at peace, “perhaps I can forget now”, he sinks to one knee, sways a little, remembers the cool feel of the stone floor, puts a hand down to renew the memory- he’s sinking.

Jim stumbles forward again, slashes, the momentum of his axe spins him around, on the second circuit the axe connects, bites into Tarn’s leg, and brings the Ranger staggering to a halt, rocked by his own blow.

Tarn looks round and down, to the tiny axe man, the Werebadger meets Jim’s gaze, and grins.

Then pushes off from Cas, crushing the Paladin again, set to launch itself forward to smash into Jim, to finish the job once and for all.

The Werebadger goes nowhere, instead slips and flounders, Tarn looks down and under, to the place where Cas has just sunk his pin-sized dagger, into the tendons at the back of its right leg, it’s a small wound, but it seems to have hit the sweet spot, Achilles would be proud.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH.”

It’s a human voice, and in absolute agony, the giant Werebadger screams.

“feckingSANDWICH.”

Tarn turns forward, just in time to see Bec stab his two-handed sword clean though its right eye, a splurge of gunk erupts from the deflated orb, soaking the Barbarian who still grips tight to his sword.

Then everything stops.

Goes quiet.

The Werebadger blinks its one good eye.

Gulps.

Then again.

But can’t keep it down.

It opens its mouth to a torrent, a waterfall, of blood, bile and worse.

“Nooooooooooo…” Delivered in a soft whisper.

The creature slowly folds, comes to rest on the stone cavern floor- dead.

Silence.

Then.

“ALA.”

A croaked cry, it’s Cas’ voice, and it’s an order.

The Paladin collapses back onto the floor, and closes his eyes.

Next Turn: The Road is Long.

 

[Goonalan]

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​

Turn 32: The Road is Long.

Newt scrambles over to Ala, in a rush, eager to obey the fallen Paladin, checks her pulse “She’s alright, just out-for-the-count.”

Cas stands up, an almighty effort, he’s a mess, covered in his own blood, he wavers for a second and then quickly falls back down again, “Ow”, the Paladin laughs, searches for a healing vial.

Bec sinks to his knees, again, out of breath- exhausted, Jim staggers over and leans on him, there’s not much keeping him up either.

“We rest.” Cas giggles, a chorus of pops as healing potions are simultaneously uncorked signals agreement.

DM’s interlude- the players at this point were wandering back and forth to the fridge, sometimes, actually most times, returning empty handed- the general consensus went a little like this, “bloody hell that was close.”

“Well, it can’t get any worse.” Nobody looks at Newt, Cas continues to guffaw.
“What’s so funny?” The Gnome enquires.
“Honestly?” The Paladin levers himself up a little, his muscles protest, vehemently, he rubs his still battered leg- trying to get some life into it, then continues, “Honestly, I’ve no idea. Except… Woo Hoo, we did it.” The Paladin chuckles contentedly.
Newt shrugs and heads off to Anya who’s sitting on the floor in silence.

“What’s he so happy about?” He whispers.
Anya squints at the Gnome, “being alive?”

Newt it seems still doesn’t get the joke.

Half-an-hour later and they’re all back on their feet, there wounds have gone, as has almost all of their healing.

“We really need to go to the Church now, or rather later.” Ala confirms.
“She’s right- everyone that’s been bitten or clawed by that monster”, Cas points at the Werebadger’s corpse, which has now transformed into a naked, and immensely ugly, looking man- with innumerable rents and gashes “could be infected.”
“With what?” Newt asks.
“Lycanthropy, it’s a curse as much as a disease turns the victim into one of those.”

They all turn to stare.

Newt checks himself for scratches or bites- there’s not a mark on him.

“Damn.”

He whispers, and then a little louder.

“I hate being small.”

Cas sums up the situation.

“So, we finish this, then go back to the Church of Pelor.”

The others nod, except for Newt, where’s Newt?

“Hey, secret stash.”

Newt stops, what’s he saying, he’s found and opened a hidden compartment in the chamber, and there inside has discovered a pair of beautifully cut emeralds, and now, now he’s telling everyone about it.

Newt’s going soft.

Five minutes later they’ve stripped Tarn’s body and recovered anything that’s worth taking, and is small enough for them to carry- which includes a ring that detects as magical.

Anya unfurls the map, has a look around, and then gingerly points to another tunnel.

“That way.”

They trudge on.

Fifteen minutes later, with only a couple of brief stoppages- squeaks and far off sounds that further warrant caution, but prove not to be dangerous.

The adventurers emerge into yet another large cavern, this one lit by sprays of phosphorescent fungi clinging to the walls and ceiling, which bathe the chamber in an eerie blue light. A slow moving stream bisects the cavern, the water crystal clear and not very deep.

Unless you’re really small.

Oh hang on.

Three moss covered, and therefore slippery, stepping-stones signal the way across.

“Wait.”

Newt perches on the bank- watches.

FWUNG

A large Cave Trout flashes and shimmers out of sight.

“He won’t be back in a hurry. And if he is then it’ll be fish for supper, and breakfast, and lunch, and probably supper again… did you see the size of that thing?”

Cas nods and claps the Gnome on the shoulder.

“Now who’s first?”

Newt shakes off Cas’ hand, grins up at the Paladin, turns and measures out twelve paces backwards, grins again and then launches himself helter-skelter at the river.

“NEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWT.”

A collective response.

SPROING

Newt clears the water by five feet or more. Quickly turns, polishing his magical ring, he unfurls a rope.

“Here catch this.”

Newt throws it over; Cas catches the end as the others grin.

Five minutes later a makeshift crossing place has been created, a harness, and a simple pulley system will hopefully ensure safe passage.

It works well.

Until it comes to Ala.

“I’m not very good at this, I always…”

SPLOOSH

“ALLLAAAAAAA.”

Cas screams.

Bec hauls and Ala appears back at the surface of the stream, she clambers up a slick moss stepping stone.

Behind a silver flash in the water, the Cave Trout launches itself out of the stream, and directly at Ala- it’s obviously very hungry.

SPLOOOOSH

It falls well short.

Bec heaves and drags a bruised and battered Ala across the stream.

The Elf briefly lies on the bank, coughs and splutters a bit, and then through her grin mutters.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

She laughs.

“This way.”

Anya points again to another tunnel, she’s all business.

They head on.

And ten minutes later.

There’s a larger chamber ahead, and…

“There’s something coming.”

Newt dodges back as the tunnel ahead is engulfed in shadow.

CLICK-CLICK.

Anya steps forward.

“FLAME ON.”

A fan of fire engulfs the Giant Worker Ant ahead, all that’s left when the flames subside are the charred stumps of the creatures legs still sticking up, that and a slick crumbling charcoal.

“I hate picnics.”

Jim mutters.

“Quickly.”

Cas waves them on and they dart into another chamber.

There are three exits to the west, and another, on the far side, the cavern floor is littered with piles of rubble, the gaster (back bit) of another Giant Worker Ant disappears into a tunnel to the west.

“Which way?” Cas whispers.

Anya fumbles her map.

“Err… Straight over.”

“Run.”

And they do, or at least the best they can on the loose stones and rubble.

“To the rear.”

Cas whispers at Jim and Bec.

They’re in the vanguard, and three-quarters of the way across when another Giant Worker Ant emerges from one of the other tunnels, tastes the air.

CLICK-CLACK

And then heads on over.

But by this time they’re in the far tunnel.

“Safe.”

Ala breaths again.

Just as the second Giant Worker Ant enters the tunnel behind them and scurries forward to attack.

“Now.”

Cas, Jim and Bec charge into the creature.

Cas dances forward with his longsword, lances out, only to be knocked away by a flailing leg, the Giant Worker Ant is easily as tall as him, and three times as long. Bec however sees his opening and slices and severs the flailing leg, the Ant staggers, attempts to circle away from the three attackers but instead ends up facing Jim, he crashes his battle axe into the creatures head, it collapses.

They head off at a rush, eager to put some distance between themselves and the Giant Ant’s nest.

And yet, another fifteen minutes later, they’ve still not reached the next chamber indicated on Anya’s map, although… strange, there are a number of bobbing lights approaching.

“Another party?” Jim asks.
“What of miniature adventurers like us?”

Newt taps his head in disgust.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Ala is watching the lights intently, they’re closer still.

“I think they’re Fire Beetles- no problem, oh hang on. Damn.”

The Goodman Gang get ready for another fracas.

Next Turn: Choker in the pack.

 

[Goonalan]

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​

Turn 33: Choker in the pack.

FWUNG x lots.

“Let them have it.”

Cas announces.

A wave of arrows and bolts smashes into the lead Beetle, and then another.

It has a slightly scratched carapace, and that’s your lot, they’ve not got their eye-in or so it seems.

“FLAME ON.”

The first Fire Beetle is in range of Anya’s wand- it’s engulfed in flames, momentarily.

It smoulders as it charges through the fire, and towards the wand wielder and her crunchy friends.

“FLAME ON.”

Ah that hits the spot, the result is two inert smoking shells, a third creature, bringing up the rear, quickly turns and scurries off back the way it came, figuring it’ll come back to the bar-b-q later.

WHOOOF

A thick pall of smoke washes over the adventurers and engulfs them in choking black noxious fumes.

“ANNNYA.”

Ala screams in frustration, it’s a good job no one can see the look on her face.

“FORWARD.”

Cas charges through the burning Beetle wreckage.

And where Cas goes the others follow.

Thirty seconds later the sextet are through, coughing and hacking, covered in a stinking awful soot, but they’re safe, and the air currents are blowing the smoke away from them.

“That was close.”

The Paladin comments, the others examine their fresh wounds, every one of them is burnt and blistered, everyone except Cas.

“Come on, let’s keep the pace up.”

Cas rushes forward again.

They others suck in air and trudge after him.

The Paladin’s has not gone far; he’s on the very edge of the sunrods light, when-

BUMP

“What’s that, the tunnel’s blocked, it’s… the other Fire Beetle.”

Cas swings wildly, doesn’t even leave a scratch. The Fire Beetle half turns, then Cas gets it right and slips the length of his longsword into the creatures tiny brain, it shivers momentarily then collapses.

They have to climb over the thing, there’s no other way round.

And two minutes later they approach yet another cavern.

“Wait.”

Ala calls them back, they gather.

“Let’s make sure.”

Ala tends to the wounded, another minor rest break, she gets out her healing kits and does her best to tend to every little scratch, bruise and burn.

Ten minutes later and they’re as good as new.

“Thanks Ala.” Cas smiles.
“It’s what I’m here for.” She grins back at Cas, who it seems has been forgiven.

She stows away what’s left of the healing kits, less than half-a-dozen uses left.

They head into a huge chamber, this one with a fifteen foot wide chasm bisecting it.

Newt, with Anya’s help, fires a crossbow bolt with a Light spell cast on it over to the far side, there’s an exit over there, just like it says on Anya’s map.

Then they investigate the chasm.

There’s a rope running all the way across, an iron spike hammered into both sides, between which the rope sags.

BOING

Jim jumps, startled.

Newt’s over.

Thirty second later Newt has a second rope across, and like at the stepping stones a harness and pulley system has been improvised.

“Ala you first.” Cas smiles, not too much.
“Thanks.” The Elf grabs on to, and then hangs from the rope, hands and legs clutching on.

She caterpillars her way over.

She’s a quarter of the way across.

“You’re doing great.” Cas offers.
“Shut up.” Ala offers back.

She’s half way across.

“That’s it.” Cas tries again.
“I said…”

She falls off.

And Bec, and Newt (ooops) hang on to the rope, prevent her fall.

“Err… People.”

The rope begins to slip through Newt’s hands as he skids towards the edge of the chasm.

“Just keep me still.”

Ala reaches up for the other rope.

The line she’s on suddenly springs and bounces.

“Hey…”

Her beautiful Masterwork Cold Iron Longsword slips out of its scabbard and plummets into the dark below.

“You ba… I said keep the line still.”

Bec’s not moving.

Newt has now got a firm grip of the rope and has anchored himself at the lip of the chasm- he’s going nowhere. Bec and Newt hold the line rock steady.

They’re not wobbling the rope.

They’re about to inform Ala of this when-

“Aaaaaaargh.”

A long rubbery tentacle wraps itself around the line, towards the adventurer’s side.

“There’s something down there.”

Ala goes to point, then realises where that manoeuvre might end.

She nods furiously at the offending tentacle.

“There.”

Jim scurries over, looks down the side of the chasm.

“What the…”

FWOOM-SQUELCH-SCREEEEEEE

His arrow strikes something, something now less happy than before.

The rope suddenly catapults up; Ala wraps her hands and arms around the original line and hauls herself up, grips tight.

“Haul her back.”

Anya shouts.

“Quickly.”

Cas concurs.

Jim leaps to his feet, and with Bec begins to drag Ala back over.

A tentacle, an awfully long tentacle at that, lashes out, wraps itself around Ala’s leg.

SQUELSH-SUCKKKKK

And hangs on.

Then nothing happens for a second.

“Cas, I…”

Then, almost in slow motion, a ripple starts somewhere way down the tentacle and rushes towards Ala.

WHIPPP

She falls.

But only for a second, Newt and Bec take the strain again, as the tentacle adds it’s weight to Ala’s.

“QWickkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

Newt screeches.

Blood flows from Ala’s leg.

“Cas, Cas please…”

Ala whimpers.

“Jim.” Cas pleads, and then grabs hold of the rope with Bec.

“Newt keep hold. Jim don’t miss. Ready?”

The last to Bec, who nods.

FWOOM

Jim’s arrow flies.

SQUEEELCH

And unseen by the adventurers above the arrow rips a huge chunk of rubbery flesh out of the Choker below them, down in the chasm.

The tentacle snakes off, and away, in an instant. At the same moment Bec, Cas and even Anya haul at the rope, and in less than ten seconds she’s across.

Ala breaths hard, the wind knocked out of her sails somewhat, then casts a spell to heal her wounds.

“We’re not doing that again.” Ala calls across.
“What do you suggest?” Cas calls back.

Anya marches towards the cavern wall.

“Simple really, we set up our own rope, use the wall as a guide, tie on, and haul ass across.”

Two minutes later it’s done.

Newt and Jim are set to watch for the Choker’s return, the next action comes when Cas is half way across, the strange rubbery creature, seeing its prey getting away from it comes gangling out of its lair, and is spotted by Newt, who lines it up in his sights, and, hands shaking, come on you bas… drops his beautiful crossbow into the chasm.

He has plenty to say on the matter.

“EXPLETIVE DELETED” x lots.

The creature rushes on, and then is momentarily lost from sight in a red haze, did I mention a fiery red haze.

“FLAME ON.”

The rubbery creature, almost vulcanized, squeaks and screeches furiously and heads back to its lair- lesson learnt.

Anya hands her crossbow over to Newt.

“I think this is yours.”

Newt cradles his new baby, googly eyes on Anya- he’s in love.

Next Turn: Like a Dragon.

 

[Mahtave]

Goonalan,

I will also add my two-cents worth here. I am enjoying this story, please don't stop writing it! It is not as humorous as your other story, but there is still a decent amount of humor in the interactions (I suspect there is a bit around the table based on the write-ups you had mentioned previously).

How close was it to a TPK when the gang met up with Tarn for the last time; sounds like it was REAL close.

 

[HalfOrc HalfBiscuit]

It's all good stuff here, Goonalan, and you are doing a smashing job. It's ok that you perhaps aren't fond of the style you are using, and by all means change it if that's the case, but don't put down the style you are using, which is engaging, and effective. It's snappy, it's quick, it's conducive to the web-forum format but it doesn't miss details where needed.

Just wanted to chime in to second everything Loup said. And to stress that those of us who read this storyhour (or any of the storyhours on these boards) aren't looking for a literary masterpiece (or even the next Robert Jordan). We're looking for an entertaining account of a D&D campaign - and you're providing that in spades.

 

[Goonalan]

Thanks for the feedback, I'll keep writing.

Mahtave, as to the TPK they had a way to go, mainly because Newt and Anya generally don't "do" melee. I think the pair had a few wounds from the Rat Swarms but nothing that would prevent them from legging it should the fight go really badly. As for the others, Cas was on 0, Ala stabilised at something like -5, Bec on 2 or 3, and Jim on about 5. It was getting real close, hence the trips to the fridge, my players can consume twice their body-weight when they're in dire straits, someone ought to do a study on it one day.

Thanks again.

And so on we go...

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​

Turn 34: Like a Dragon.

And ten minutes later, via another dark tunnel, the Goodman Gang emerge into yet another cavern, which appears to be… empty.

The floor is dusty, covered with fine rock debris, the west wall glints, more mineral deposits, slick with water and moisture, crystal formations wink and shine in the half-light.

“There’s nothing here, nice walls.” Newt comments.

They head across to the only other exit.

WHOOF

And are suddenly engulfed in flame.

They scatter, Cas and Anya run for the exit, Ala dodges back, Jim and Bec swish and slice… at what? Newt pats the flames on him out. And then a voice, as clear as a bell stops them in there tracks.

“Little dwarves cower before me or again feel my flamey breath, damn that doesn’t work... I mean, feel my flamey breath… again, whatever, you get the gist of it.”

They adventurers look about- who’s talking.

Then they figure it, except for Bec who continues looking, the voice is in their heads.

They’re all burnt a little.

“Where are you?” Cas enquires, aloud.
“What are you?” Ala worries.
“What do you want?” Anya cuts to the chase.

The voice comes again; Bec continues to look confused, searching high and low for the speaker.

“Leave tribute and I will allow you to pass on, one item from each of you. That’s better, that sounded good… fierce… Ohh, forgot to stop talking there, ignore that last bit- hand over the goodies, or else.”

The adventurers grow spikes.

“Missile weapons everyone.” Cas says.

Nothing happens for a while.

Then a while more.

“Leave tribute…”, the voice begins again.

“Run.” Cas suggests, it catches on, the adventurers scarper for the far tunnel.

WHOOOOSH

Another gout of flame, but too late, the Goodman Gang are on there way, and to the far tunnel.

“Now turn and fire.” Cas orders.

Ala spins, bow in hand, arrow notched, ready to fly. Scans the area, her incredible Elven vision spots something, a small something.

“There.” And to make her point she fires, alas her arrow sails wide of the mark, not that any of the others can see the mark.

“What was it?” Jim shouts.
“Like a tiny Dragon.” Ala calls back.

Newt creeps forward, back into the chamber.

WHOOOOSH

He and Ala are once again caught in the flame, although only a little charred this time, the pair dodge back in time to avoid the spells affect.

A tiny Dragon-like creature hovers before them for a second, it has rainbow patterned wings, it’s beautiful, and then it blinks back out of existence.

“Run.” Cas is even more definite, they scarper.

“What do you mean LIKE a Dragon?” Jim wonders as he pelts forward.

There’s a fluttering noise coming from behind them, and it’s moving much faster than they are, the noise of fluttering wings is getting louder, catching them.

WHOOSH

The tunnel is yet again engulfed in flame.

“RIGHT…”

Jim spins and fires, instinctively sighting the now clearly visible Pseudo-Dragon, Blackspine; his arrow sails just wide.

Newt crouches and hurriedly coats a bolt in poison.

Anya points her wand.

“FLAME ON.”

The tiny Dragon is surrounded by flame, and yet there seems to be a void-space, a flame-free pocket, encompassing the creature, the flame dies down and it emerges completely unscathed.

“Magic Resistant, damn.” Anya offers.

“HE-HE.”

The creature’s laughter fills their heads.

“CHAAAARGE.”

Cas hurtles off towards the creature, back the way they came, swishing wildly as he runs, it’s like being menaced by a blender, his blade whirls and slashes all before him.

Bec shrugs, “Sandwich”, grins and follows suit, the others replicate the action.

“Oooo Bugger.”

The voice in their head comes again.

The fluttering wings retreat at speed.

The adventurers emerge back in the like-a-Dragon’s chamber.

“Leave tribute or else more fire.”

The voice is definite.

“What do you want? Who are you?” Cas calls back.

“I am Blackspine, sire of er… Bagpuss the er… Flamey, no, Fiery. I am a mighty Red Dragon sent, no not sent… er… I have decided, of my own accord, to guard this place, to rain down fiery… er… rain, on those that wish to pass. I can be dissuaded only by grand offerings, as befitting my mighty station.”

And then a little later.

“That last bit was quite good wasn’t it?”

The voice inside their heads fades.

“We will leave nothing.”

Jim draws himself up to his full height, strides forward.

“You’re not even a real dragon, pah… Red Dragon, my arse, you’re only like-a-Dragon, Anya says so.”

Jim finishes.

“WHY YOU…”

The voice in their heads is on volume 11.

“Jim, actually I think it is a Dragon.” Anya whispers.
“What?”
“I said I think it is a Dragon.”
“But you said…”

“YOU ABSOLUTE BUGGERS.”

Volume 11 again.

There’s a mad flutter of tiny wings, whatever it is that’s like-a-Dragon is making a bee-line straight for Jim.

SWOOOP

Blackspine swoops.

SAIL

Blackspine sails.

GLIDE

Blackspine glides.

Claws out ready to mess up the impertinent Human’s features, only no one can see it, it’s invisible.

But Newt can hear it.

“DUCK.” The Gnome screams at Jim.
“Where?” The Ranger turns to look back at Newt, slightly confused.

The movement is enough to make Blackspine miss his target, Jim’s face remember, the little dragon flaps heartily trying to arrest it’s dive- climbs a little.

SPLAT

And thumps into the cavern wall above Jim’s head.

“ME HEAD.” The voice is in their minds again.

A ten inch long Pseudo Dragon become visible, on the floor, stunned, only inches away from Jim’s right boot.

Cas slices, rips through a wing, Bec stabs and skewers the creature.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

The feedback squeal finds 12 on the volume dial.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please. I’m a prisoner, that’s it a prisoner, keep going- make it believable, I’ll tell you all I know. That’s got them- suck…”

Cas strides forward, hands up- peaceful, gets to the “O”, of, “OK”, when Bec nudges him aside and swings again.

BLINK

Followed by.

FLUTTER

The Pseudo Dragon disappears and makes a flap for dear life.

FWANG

Newt’s poisoned bolt plunges off into the darkness.

“I said…” Cas starts but Bec just pushes the Paladin out the way and strides past him.

“Tresh-ure.” The mini-hulk points up at a previously unseen ledge, it seems to have a crude nest atop it.

“Bec we can’t hang around, I know you’re pissed off, we’re all battered and bruised…” Ala plays peace maker.

“TRESH-URRRR.”

Bec growls, flecks of spittle spraying from his mouth.

“OK big guy.”

Newt wanders over, as Bec continues to seethe, gets to just below the nest and flings a grappling hook up, it catches first time.

“Tresh-Urrrrrrrrrr.”

Bec calms down a little.

The others give him a wide berth.

“Keep a look out, missile weapons people.” Cas gets back to business, although he glances back at Bec every now and then.

Back on the ground Ala expends more of her healing, the Healing Kits are spent, as are most of her spells.

The cavern is lit up like a Christmas tree, there are over half-a-dozen sunrods flaring, the shadows are all but gone.

A couple of minutes later Newt is back, loaded with goodies. They head back into the tunnel, post a guard while Anya casts Detect Magic, there are plenty of coins, some gems and jewellery, and a pair of magical bracers, and a potion, swiftly identified as Healing, Ala takes it, the rest is for distribution later.

Newt has pocketed a ring, for his troubles, for once though his eye is out, it’s the least valuable piece in the hoard.

They head off again.

“You OK?” Jim asks.
“San-wich.” Bec, half-heartedly, states.

The trek continues in silence, but not for long.

A little more than five minutes later the Gang emerge into another chamber, a little more cautious this time.

It’s huge, and there are no visible exits, at the northern end is a great black altar, a large black tome rests upon it, either side twisting pewter candelabras holding the lit stubs of fat black candles.

Hanging on the wall behind the altar are five human skeletons, arms manacled over their heads, each wears a rusty chain shirt and carries a longsword at its side.

“Whatchamacallit… Saaaaandwiiiiiiich.”

Bec charges.

Although none of the skeletons are animate.

SMASH

He shatters the first.

“BEKKKKKKKKKKKK.” Cas orders.

As the other Skeletons jump to their feet, wriggle from their bonds, and begin to unsheathe their swords.

“Oh Correllon hear my words, banish these foul…”

Ala intones, the four Skeletons are surrounded in a green haze, and in the blink of an eye-

CRACK

Are pulverised in an instant, reduced to piles of shattered bone.

Leaving Bec huffing and blowing, searching desperately for something else to destroy.

Newt is quickly at the altar, Anya in tow; she grabs the book, opens it, begins to read, shrugs once, then closes it again.

“That’s that then.”
“What’s that?” Cas asks.
“It’s Malchor’s diary, your landlord.”
“How do you know?” Cas struts over.
“It’s got his name on the inside of the cover, and… hang on.”

She flops the tome open, skips a few pages and reads.

“I Malchor, supplicant of Crypticus, do hereby swear to rid myself of the sainted, and unbelievably stupid, Lady Arabella, who has usurped my rightful place. I have made my pact and with my Dark Lord in order to rid myself, once-and-for-all, of this pesky child that taunts me daily with her inane blathering, I… Oh nearly forget, get eggs, pay the milkman- does he do yogurt?”

Anya closes the book.

“Satisfied?”

“I’ve found something.” Newt breaks the ice.

And indeed he has, the secret compartment in the altar swings open inside there are some coins- platinum, Newt whistles, two potions, quickly identified as Healing, and a beautifully crafted, and jewelled, Dagger- a silver-blue colour.

“Can I have this?” Newt asks, “please…”, politely.
“Yes.” Cas is on auto-pilot, it was the politely bit that threw him.
The others shrug, or nod, their agreement.

The potions are taken by Cas and Ala.

“I can’t believe that’s it…” Jim states.

As the secret door opens and into the room steps a well armed, and armoured Goblin, he looks all business and has a bow in his hands and an arrow notched.

Behind him an Elf, no what do you call them dark coloured Elves… Drow- that’s it. The Drow, male, looks to be a Wizard.

And in the same instant a Wolf suddenly appears, in the midst of the Goodman Gang.

Actually, ‘a Wolf’, doesn’t quite cover it.

The creature is five feet tall at the shoulder; its fur is as black as night, its eyes gleam, a similar light to the fires of hell.

Oh, and it has horns, nasty looking ones- are there any other kind?

FWONG

Jim grows an arrow, from the middle of his chest; he staggers backwards, flailing madly and finally… falls.

Next Turn: This is the End, My Friend.

 

[Goonalan]

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​

Turn 35: This is the End, My Friend.

FWONG

A second arrow hurtles past Bec’s left ear.

The Fiendish Wolf snarls and leaps at the Barbarian, he leaps aside, reacts quickly, swings and slices, cuts a ugly gash in the creature, it seems not to mind at all.

Newt tumbles backwards, into a shadow or two, grabs a bolt, adds poison.

“PelORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.”

While Cas charges towards the door, into the thick of it.

At the same time a Celestial Badger pops into existence in the doorway, bloody badgers get everywhere, Anya motions and the thing snarls and menaces the Goblin who spills his bow and quick-draws his rapier.

“For Correllon.”

Ala follows Cas into the fray.

Jim gets up quickly, winded- that’s all, stumbles over to help Bec, stabs at the Wolf and draws a drop or two of blood. The Wolf turns with amazing speed, snaps its jaws shut on the space Jim just inhabited, he’s too quick.

The Goblin, Goren, slashes wildly at the Celestial Badger but the creatures hide is too thick, the creature snaps at the Goblin’s heels.

In the same instance the Drow Wizard intones a single word-

“DOOOOOOMMMMMM.”

Points at Cas who struggles for a moment, he seems to be running through treacle, and then rushes on, although the weight of the world, and all his doubts and insecurities are now buzzing furiously in his mind.

Newt creeps in a little closer, crossbow at the ready, looking for the right time to strike.

“FIZZZZZZZZ.”

A sudden Flare of light before the Fiendish Wolf, the creature staggers back, momentarily blinded- Jim and Bec take full advantage, both score hits, the creature looks to be on its last legs.

The Celestial Badger is proving to be worth its weight in gold, Goren, the Goblin, falls back into the chamber beyond, constantly harried by the creature.

Which leaves the doorway clear for Cas, he bursts into the chamber beyond, the Drow Wizard stumbles back, quick draws a dagger, but too late, Cas slashes cuts the Dark Elf’s hand, although its nothing more than a scratch. The Drow slashes back, Cas dodges back and avoids the blow. Ala enters the fray, she swings forces the Drow back further into the chamber, her longsword passes only inches away from its face.

The Goblin gets his second wind, its rapier lances down and skewers the Celestial Badger, the creature fades into vapour and dust.

Newt creeps into the second chamber, he has a clear shot at Goren , the Goblin.

FWUNG

The bolt hits.

The Goblin screeches in pain and then something else.

The poison hits, Goren staggers and stumbles, now borne on bendy legs, the Goblin tries to flee, almost collapses but makes headway.

DM’s interlude Goren’s Strength at this point dropped to ‘4.’

Back in the first chamber, the one with the altar, Bec aims his blow, and neatly splints the Fiendish Wolf’s skull, it fades to smoke and vapour, leaving the Barbarian momentarily confused..

Cas swipes at the Drow Wizard who dodges back again- he’s nimble, light on his feet. Ala repeats the move, with the same effect. Anya charges into the doorway, takes in the scene.

A dry and slightly warm chamber, comfortable, natural light spills in from a passage to the east. A crude bed and a wooden writing table, littered with parchments, on the north wall, on the south wall crates and bales of straw, and a crude straw pallet.

Jim and Bec rush to the doorway, behind Anya, as the Goblin recalculates the odds, and flees east, caroming into the walls as his legs give way.

The Drow Wizard slashes hard at Cas who dodges back.

“You’re all on your own, time to die.” Cas mocks, then remembering his Paladinhood adds, “or surrender?”

THUNG

Newt’s crossbow sings again, and the fleeing Goblin takes a bolt in the back, it staggers out of sight, only just amongst the living.

The Wizard attacks, stabs out with his dagger, the Paladin clangs his shield into the Drow’s arm, knocking the blade away and swings back with his longsword, the Wizard feints and gets away. Ala swipes again likewise to no effect. Jim however sees his chance, flanks the Drow and smashes his battle axe into its leg leaving a nasty rent in the creatures flesh.

The Drow hisses, seems more determined if anything, and stabs his dagger, deep, into Cas’ gut.

The Paladin staggers back, holding the spot, blood flows freely, he turns white, and yet it’s not the wound.

Cas’ head already full of dark biting creatures- his doubts and worries amplified by the Doom spell, is rocked, no… make that Cursed.

He sags, stoops, fights the weight on his shoulders, the angry pain, the buzz-saw in his brain, desperate he flounders, flails, and screams.

“PEL-ORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.”

Light floods into him, his ragged wound instantly closes.

He smiles at the Drow Wizard.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bec completes the circle, they’ve surrounded the creature.

“Surrender?” Cas asks.

“To go back to what?” The Drow spits.

And launches himself at Cas, it seems all the Wizard is doing is trying to touch Cas, but the Paladin is much too quick. Ala, Jim, Cas and Bec take it in turn to poke, slash, stab and flail, the circle surrounding the enraged Drow expands and contracts as the creature leaps, jumps and dodges. And yet for all their efforts not one hit is scored.

The action ceases, the Drow puts his hand up.

“Wait.”

He seems to be catching his breath, either that or thinking about surrender.

“Bec wait.” Cas warns, the Barbarian stares hard at the Paladin but holds his position.

“Who the hell are you?” Cas asks.

The Drow stands tall, smiles at the Paladin.

“You don’t know that?”

He roars with laughter, causing several of the gang to instinctively back away.

Seeing his opportunity the Drow quick-draws a Healing Potion and swigs the contents down, his wounds are almost all healed.

FWUNG

A crossbow bolt, courtesy of Newt enters the mix, snicks against the stone floor and careens on causing Bec to take evasive action.

The Barbarian glares at the Gnome, then lurches towards the Drow, swings and misses by a mile. Ala and Jim have better aims; both score hits, although, again, they’re no more than scratches. Cas doesn’t get the opportunity as the Drow again lunges for him causing him to take all out defence.

“Surrender?” Cas tries again, after all he is the good guy.
“No.” The Drow Wizard grins back; after all he is the bad guy.

The whirlwind starts up again.

FWUNG

It begins with Newt burying six inches of steel in the Drow’s back, and ends with Bec’s longsword slicing a chunk out of the Drow’s side- the Wizard suddenly looks very unwell.

The Drow stoops low, blood drips onto the cavern floor- he breathes hard, the circle waits again.

“Surrender?” Cas just wants it on record.

The Drow looks up, straightens a little, then shakes his head.

Bec steps in and slices, the Drow tries to dodge, but much too slow, staggers, nearly folds, more blood flows.

“Surrender?” Cas is almost pleading.

The Drow looks up at him holds his gaze as long as he can, before folding, sinking to his knees, head only inches from the cold cavern floor the Dark Elf nods.

The Wizard slumps forward, nothing more than a ragged bleeding compact pile on the cavern floor.

The Goodman Gang breathe hard and go to sheath their weapons.

Next Turn: Just Rewards.

 

[Goonalan]

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​

Turn 36: Just Rewards.

The Drow Wizard shimmers for a second and is gone.

And in his place is Malchor, the owner of the Wellow Inn, his magical Disguise Self spell is over.

“Malchor… You…” Cas begins.

But the Innkeeper doesn’t stir.

“He’s dead, let’s fleece him, grab what we can and get back to the Church.” Newt heads off to check out the papers on the desk, Anya follows him over.

Cas wanders over to the Innkeeper’s body, bends to start his search.

Malchor’s head shoots up, the Healing Potion- now empty, falls from his grasp.

“HA HA HA. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

He touches Cas, barely brushes his leg.

Cas screams, like a little girl.

“My eyes.”

It feels like acid burning his eyeballs, he staggers back flailing wildly, and then suddenly stops. The other members of the Goodman Gang turn and instinctively draw weapons- ready again for the fight.

Cas blinks once or twice, arms out before him, staggers forward testing the air with his hands, his feet inching forward, scuffing the ground, making sure of the surface.

He stops.

Grins.

“No, you’ll have to do better than that.”
“You bastard.”

Malchor leaps to his feet, dagger back in hand.

The Goodman Gang dive back into the fray again, Jim slashes with his axe gouges a deep furrow in the Innkeeper’s chest, Malchor grits his teeth, the pain, and slashes back- cutting Jim badly across his face. Blood gushes from the wound; Jim staggers backwards his face pure horror show.


Ala is quickly to him, spills her sword, and pumps Healing into the screaming Ranger.

THwung

Newt’s bolt hits an invisible barrier, Malchor’s Shield of Faith, he begins to coat another bolt with poison

“Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”

The Innkeeper screams, the adventurers take another step back, widening the circle around him.

Except for Bec.

Who rushes forward.

Swings his two handed sword with all his might.

And cuts Malchor clean in two.

“Shut up, I mean, Sandwich.”

The Barbarian looks around at the other adventurers; they seem not to have noticed his speech.

“Thank feck he’s dead.”

Newt sums up their feelings succinctly.

The Gnome sets to, spots a metal strongbox under the bed, drags it out and gets on with opening it.

The other adventurers spread out to thoroughly search the chamber, and yet return having found nothing of interest, even the papers on the table are blank sheets of parchment.

“Arrrgghh.”

Newt withdraws his hand quickly, the poison pulses from the needle protruding from the end of his finger, he feels… weak.

“You OK?” Ala is quickly there to help.
“Poisoned.” Newt shows the spot.
“We need to get you to the Church.” Cas cuts in.
“Money first.” Newt nods at the chest.

And thirty seconds later, and still being supervised by Ala and Cas, he springs the chest open. There’s a pile of coins, gems and jewellery within.

Soon after the gang trudge out, down the passage, and emerge from a river bank running through a farmer’s field, a little way south of Gleethorpe. It’s a straight road, actually no more than a farmer’s track, back into the village, and passed the Wellow Inn, which they avoid for now.

Thirty minutes later the sextet are back in the centre of Grimbo, at St. Jimbo’s, the Church of Pelor, and before Father Whiskin.

Cas’ curse has been lifted, a small matter, a simple ceremony by Father Whiskin and Cas is free from taint, but now the Priest is shaking his head.

“Lycanthropy…” He sucks his teeth.
Ala and Cas plead with their eyes.
“There’s three of us need the cure… Do you have anything?” Cas asks.
Ala hopes, she’s one of the three that maybe infected.

Behind them Newt waves faintly and then collapses- very poisoned, although it’s quickly established his life is not in danger, he’s found a temporary bed.

“Well there’s Wolfsbane…” Father Whiskin offers.
“Will that work?” Ala worries.
“It should, probably… Pelor willing.” The Priest trails off.
Cas nods.

Ala, Jim and Bec are ushered further into the Church, made comfortable in a side room; a pair of acolytes appear and the Wolfsbane is administered, and a minor sedative- it doesn’t take much to put the three to sleep.

“Pelor will watch over them here, they’re safe.” Father Whiskin clutches Cas’ arm, Ala sweats and twitches as an acolyte mops her brow. “Wolfsbane is a poison, they’ll have a fever for a while, we’ll see to them, go… You need to tell the authorities what you’ve found.”

And so Cas and Anya depart- straight to Lady Arabella’s residence, Cas knows the way.

An hour later the pair find themselves in a once serious looking dark oak panelled office, now complete with a collection of dolls from every nation, a very large make-up bag, and an unfeasibly tall pair of patent leather stiletto shoes atop the desk. Behind which sits Lady Arabella, lost in her fathers massive chair.

“NO.” She plunges through a dozen or more expressions- shock, horror, terror, fear, confusion, wanton, trepidation, et al.

Cas and Anya continue with their story.

“NO.” And again with the exaggerated facial expressions.

Till finally she flings herself around the desk and at Cas’ feet, she claws her way up, pawing at him as she goes.

“Owwwww my brave Cassy. Owww how absolutely awful, you must have been so frightened, oh but no. No. You know no fear, don’t you Cassy-wassy… You’re so fearless… So… without erm fear.”

She’s rubbing his arm, thigh, chest, arm again- his bicep, her eyes glisten, she licks her lips. She moves onto his thigh, perches there.

“So very hard, I mean… brave.”

Cas gets up very quickly, Lady Arabella thumps onto the floor, it seems her hand may have strayed somewhere off limits. Cas is beetroot red.

“Ahem, I think we should get off now, we should report this to the appropriate authorities.” Cas clicks his heels, turns around, and then swiftly back, bows and helps a smiling Lady Arabella back to her feet.

“Arabella.” Cas nods and then strides off, with a pronounced limp.

Anya watches on, less than amused.

Lady Arabella readjusts her dress, leans back on her father’s desk and grins at the retreating Paladin’s back; actually it’s his bottom she’s staring at.

“Lady Arabella?” Anya approaches, “our reward.”

Arabella’s reverie is broken; she shuffles around the desk, opens a draw, hefts a large purse of money onto it, mutters “thanks”, and rushes over to the window to watch Cas’ awkward retreat. She never looks once at Anya.

“I’ll leave this with you.” Anya reveals the huge tome found on the altar, Malchor’s diary, but Arabella doesn’t even signal she has heard.

“He killed your father.”

That gets her attention, Lady Arabella turns, her hand shoots out, she grabs at the back of a chair to steady herself.

“I’m sorry, really. I know what it’s like to lose a parent…”

Anya flees the scene, the sound of Lady Arabella’s tears echo through the huge empty house.

A little while later at Grimbo Police Station, on Vicky Street, Cas sits at a desk in an interview room and tells his tale again.

“Right, and who gave you permission to investigate this matter?” Captain Khan enquires.

Cas looks non-plussed for a second, then states clearly, “Lady Arabella Ross, who I believe, is the Council Member for Gleethorpe.”

“Hmmm.” The good Captain smiles.
“Leave it with us… we’ll investigate.”

And stands and makes to leave.

“That’s it?” Cas is less than impressed.

“Hmmm. Oh… Thanks.” Khan smirks and limply proffers his hand.

Cas is up and out of the Police Station almost before his chair hits the ground.

Khan watches the paladin leave from a window, the door behind him opens, he doesn’t turn round, only stiffens slightly- alert.

“So that’s him?”
“Yes, sir.” Khan replies.
“How did he seem?”
“Angry, sir?” Khan hopes he has the right answer.
“Good… Good, that’ll do for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Khan…”
“Sir?”
“Keep an eye on them, all of them.”
“Yes sir, I’ll…” Khan turns to discover he’s alone in the room, suddenly confused, he can’t remember the sound of the door shutting, strange, he thinks.

Next Turn: Review