The Reluctant Heros of Dartham

[William Ronald]

This is a continuation of the earlier adventure.

A continuation of the Reluctant Heroes of Dartham -- The Quest for Knowledge

It was mid-afternoon when Rath looked up from the table to see Arronn and Gris. Putting his plate aside, Rath rose to his feet and casually strolled to an adjoining hallway where Arronn, Gris, and Mookesh stood.

The four men walked to Arronn's room, where he explained that the Temple of Toeffer was in possession of a book detailing the early history of the Church of Darien in one of the other counties in the Kingdom of Toeffrus. Apparently, a member of the temple's clergy had come into an inheritance from a distant relative.

Arronn asked for help in recovering the book, with Mookesh saying that he would ask about looking at the book and others in the new collection. The priest handed Mookesh a small bag with coins in case there was a chance to purchase the book. Rath volunteered to accompany Mookesh -- to either help carry some of the books or to be ready in case something went wrong. The Temple of Self Reproach was known as a place where the priests would encourage worshippers to cleanse themselves of sin -- with whips.

Rath walked with Mookesh to the Temple of Toeffer, an imposing structure whose roof was supported by thick columns. Entering inside, the fighter saw several stone beds in a wide hall. A thin man, whom Mookesh hailed as Slane, explained that the books were being examined and it would not be possible to look at them today. However, tomorrow might be a better time.

With some effort, Rath stopped himself from commenting on the red flecks on the gray stone beds and Slane's inquiries about whether either man needed to be purged of sin.

Mookesh and Rath returned to the Temple of Darien. The discussion turned serious with the thought that someone from the Temple of Toeffer might visit Mookesh to ask why he wanted to see the new books. Gris said that he would keep an eye on Mookesh's room at Banthward's leather work shop. Arronn pointed out that there was a guard tower near the shop which would be a good spot to watch the shop. He suggested that left over food and drink from the feast be brought to the guard tower, and that someone could keep an eye on the shop. Rath volunteered, wishing to keep an eye on the wizard's shop and thinking that Arronn would have a hard time carrying a large plate of food to the guards.

The guards welcomed the food and wine, and Rath walked with a guardsmen on the roof for some time. The night was quiet, and no sign of danger could be seen from Banthward's shop.

The next day, Rath woke, nudged by Liath his mule. Rath hurried about the task at the stables, and soon had everything ready for an extended lunch break. He arrived at Banthward's shop to see a dejected Mookesh. The wizard explained that he could not leave, as Banthward said she was going to ask about any leatherwork to be done at the Temple of Toeffer. She asked him to stay to sell some belts and to wait for a customer. Rath decided he would buy a belt, to hopefully give Banthward a reason to let Mookesh be free for a little while of work. Mookesh mentioned two gold pieces as the price, and Rath unthinkingly handed it over. The wizard then asked Rath to return Arronn's money. Rath left, and within a block realized he paid too much for the belt. He reached Arronn at the temple, but his explanation about how much coin Mookesh had returned was a bit mangled.

Rath walked with Mookesh and Gris to Banthward's shop, then left. Later that evening, Mookesh arrived at the Temple of Darien. He said that Slane said he could not look at the books, and that he had quit his employer -- who turned out to be a worshipper of Toeffer. When they were alone, Rath asked Mookesh for a refund of the belt but the wizard said that there were no refunds. Later, a senior priest meet with Arronn, Rath, Mookesh, and Gris. The priest mentioned that a small mission of Toeffer was in the village of Dartham. A swift raid, with the capture of the acolyte in charge of the mission, would give the Temple of Darien something to trade for the book. Arronn, Rath, Gris and Mookesh accepted the task, taking along Rath's mule Liath to help carry back an acolyte from the village of Dartham.

 

[Mark]

The journals are out of sync! We need an update!

 

[Kareyev]

Session 2: Dwarven Folly

Well to jumble up this thread a bit more here is the same tale from the other dwarven brother's perspective. Ejja, I can break this off in a separete thread if you prefer.

Raskilnov laid down upon the wet ground looking up into the night sky. This trip had not gone as planned. The image of Stonebeard pelted with more rocks that any mortal could take filled his mind. Then the guilt came. Instead of moving to his leaders side Raskilnov had fled. No better then a kobold.

It was true that it would of been a death wish to run out by Stonebeard's side, but that was not even the worst of it. As he fled he stumbled into his brother and quickly convinced him to follow him on orders he had never received. "Stonebeard wants us to find support while he holds them off"! It had kept Spats alive. There had been no other way.

He lost all track of time and direction running in what seemed to be the endless moors. They ran until coming to the river, which by chance was being traveled by a stranger upon a raft who offered them refuge. He had let his brother do the talking and though he was not fond of the idea of riding what seemed to be a leaky raft, it was better than walking any further.

The raft stopped in Jalston, a large, walled city of humans. After a bid of wandering and well placed questions they had found their way to a Dwarven inn on the far side of the town. Spats and he talked about the hunt and final battle. It was clear that Spats believed the tale about their final order and had even been asking where stout men may be found.

With the dwarven wiskey flowing they must of been talking a bit louder than intended as it was then the well dressed, spear toting human came up asking about their tale. Seeing a chance to recruit some help Raskilnov attempted to charm the human. "What do you want pretty boy!" Spats quickly took over the conversation and soon the human warrior Rath had introduced his two friends, Griz and Arron, and all three agreed to return with them to the moors. He was sure all of the dwarven band had perished, but the least he could do would be to retrieve their remains for a proper burial.

The next day the quintet had returned to the moors. Though Spats and he knew how to live in the wild, with neither of them being skilled trackers it took the better part of a day find the old trail. By the end of the second day they were sure they had found the old battle ground. Making camp that night so near it was probably not the brightest idea, but the solid day of travel had worn everyone out.

It was during Spats's watch that the kobolds came. Rocks rained down upon them as before, but this time Raskilnov had been ready for battle. Quickly everyone was awake and took cover behind a small rise. Arron had already constructed a beatiful tactic as any good priest of Darien would do. He had not only lit up the kobolds with a stone of light, he had shared the blessings of Darien with them all! He, Spats, and Rath each charged down into the kobold firing line, with Griz taking a kobold down with a percision shot from his crossbow.

Heh. That Rath sure used an odd battle-cry as he charged. Something like "Remember to take a prisoner!" The odd part was each kobold he slew he completely gutted. It had been a beatiful sight to behold. Soon all of their foes had fallen.

Editor's Note: Rath rolled crits in the first two rounds of combat vs. 3 hp kobolds. Yeah, right. There were prisoners. I think we managed to capture one of their livers. I forget who gets the credit for the name, but from that point on his name was Rusty McCrit-Nuts.

It was then things began to go bad again. Arron started screaming something about vicious bugs in the moors. Was he insane? Of course there were bugs in the moors! He spoke of something Spats guessed to be a Moorge, but if there had been one why had it run away? Neith Arron nor Griz looked like they had been hit by a Moorge. Surely they had been delusional.

The conversation turned ugly and the Arron and Griz left heading back to the river leaving Spats, Rath, and himself . Spats and he had inspected the kobolds and found pieces of their fallen comrades upon the kobolds items, with one of the kobolds wearing a belt of beards. But no sign of Stonebeard or his precious items. These monsters would pay for such a disgrace! The dwarven remains were collected for burial in a better local.

The three-some found a new hill to pass the rest of the night on, but with Rath's human eyes they could not go far. It did not matter much for with Spats on guard there was no rest to be found yet again. Moor Hounds had found their trail. Though each of them fell prey to the gastly sound of the Hounds howls, Raskilnov recalled that it was only after all of his comrads had feld that he too succumbed the fear. In the end they were not badly seperated and each managed to take out two of the hounds hunting them. But it had been a close call. Too close.

Yes, they would need to go back and convince Griz and Arron to go on with them. Without them the effort would be doomed. Raskilnov moved over to where his brother was on watch only to find out he was scribbing in his journal again. "What's this! No wonder we are attacked ever time you are on watch! You are such a momma's dwarf!"

 

[William Ronald]

The journals are out of sync! We need an update!

I will do, first finishing the trip to Dartham and then adding in Rath's version of the latest adventure. (In a separate post.)The Road to Dartham, or The End of a Mission

We continued south by night, the moon giving its light to the road from Jalston to the small village of Dartham, half a day's journey south. Mookesh, Grizz, Arronn and I walked down the road, as I lead my mule Liath down the road. Liath carried the extra gear I had brought with, as well as a bedroll that might be useful in hiding an abducted acolyte of Toeffer.

Both Grizz and Arronn seemed to have sound proposals on how to accomplish our goal. I suggested that we needed to have some idea of the lay of the land, to find to see if we might gain some tactical advantage over our foes. As we discussed our plans, the night was interrupted several times by piercing howls coming form either side of the road. Both Arronn and Grizz seemed stricken with fear; their paces pale and their steps uncertain. We hurried faster down the road to escape the unearthly howls, as I wondered whether wolves or worse creatures of the night hounded our steps.

We came to the first of several scattered farmhouses on the outskirts of Dartham. Seeing a distant light in one of the windows, our band resolved to learn a little more about the town. I suggested that Grizz take Liath the mule and talk to the farmers. After all, the sight of a man of over six feet in armor with a sword is perhaps not the friendliest sight in the pre-dawn hours to a farmer.

Grizz returned several minutes later. The farmer's name was Thornton, and he had told Grizz that the town was near .The mission was the tallest building in the town, a two-story tall former inn.

As we approached the town, the dawn slowly lit the eastern sky. A small house stood on a low hill near the road. Already, several people were up and about. So, our plans to find a good spot to hide were ruined by the day light.

The first man we passed, wished us good day and hurried. He seemed to be as wary as a rabbit cornered by a pack of hounds. The next man, who was building a fire to roast some meat, directed us to the mission to register our presence with Duncan, the local sheriff. A paior of mean stabled my mule with some horses, near a large two wheel drawn cart.

Arronn explained that we were travellers on the Road to Kes, and that we needed to rest for the day. Duncan, a tall man in a well maid chain hauberk, ordered an old woman to make room for us in her home. The woman nervously arranged space for our bedrolls, and went to fetch some food from a store.

After removing my scale mail, I fell soundly asleep as Mookesh kept watch. When I awoke, the mage calmly told me were being watched from the mission by men with crossbows. I commented that this was the least friendly villageI had seen in some time.

The old woman had supplied us with a meal of bread, cheese, and fruit. We learned that Duncan was fairly new to the town, as was the mission. She seemed reluctant to speak.

As the day wore on, we meet a travelling merchant and prepared to head out of town. We camped a few miles from the town that evening with the merchant and his family. We purchased some carved wooden goods, including a flask from him and learned that he would be at a trading meet in two weeks. Arronn arranged for the merchant to watch Liath, as our plan to sneak back into Dartham would have been more difficult with a mule in tow. It was our hope to retrieve the mule once we had captured the alcolyte. I did nto intend to carry a grown man back all the way to Jalston.

We found two guards protecting a shed at the back of the mission house, and quickly overwhelmed them. To our surprise, the shed hid a hole with a ladder leading down to rough hewn tunnels. We explored briefly, finding a few chambers full of skeletal remains and a large structure of worked stone where the Toefferites had clearly been digging. Now, we knew there was more than just a casual interest in this village by the Temple of Toeffer in Jalston.

With haste, we returned to the surface. Arronn's mace and Mookesh's magic made short work of two guards by the front door of the mission. With my longspear, I made short work of the guards -- only one who roused himself from slumber to face me. Duncan, dressed in his chain armor and drawing a well-crafted sword charged at us from the stairs. My spear bit into Duncan''s side, as a look of shock passed across his face.

After I pulled my spear out of Duncan's mortal remains, we ran up the stairs, where as we reached the second floor, I felt two sets of hands touch me. I felt a wave of cold and tiredness come over me, as my vision blurred.

I awoke to find a worried Arronn standing over me, explaining that he had to heal me. I was weak and weary, but resolved to go upstairs. Arronn lead the way, when two sets of hands -- one sturdy and broad, and the other delicate -- touched him and he collapsed. I stabbed at a woman in robes with my spear even as Mookesh's staff struck her on the head. The woman lay bleeding on the floor, as Grizz and I urged a frightened young man --Ponsfer by name -- in the robes of a priest of Toeffer to heal Arronn. He agreed to do so, but healed his older companion first. I bound her, briefly noticing a gold locket with the sign of a cat o'nine tails whip, as Grizz ensured that the acolyte healed Arronn.

Later, we found a box that the priestess of Toeffer claimed was hers. Grizz decided not to open it, but to bring it back to Jalston. I rested and awoke to stand guard in what had once been the common room of the inn. A man calling himself Billius had arrived with a large dog, claiming he was here to work. Despite my protests, he insisted on coming to work. It was only an order from the acolyte -- and some of Mookesh's gold --that sent Billius home.

We later talked with the old woman, who was pleased to learn that we had slain Duncan and the guards he brought into the town. She told us that it was the Toefferuns who had built the house on the low burial mound near the road. She told us that Billius was merely a local man hired to do chores and hunt for Duncan -- and most importantly bore no loyalty to the Temple of Toeffer or his late employer.

After sending for Billius, we explained what had happened during the night. He was pleased to see Duncan gone, and even more pleased when Arronn asked Billius to keep an eye on the shed and the entrance to the burial mound.

We gathered two of the horses from the stable and the cart and left for Jalston, with a large tarp hiding Ponsfer and the priestess. Both were bound and gagged, and looked up in horror as we brought them to the grounds of the Temple of Darien in the late afternoon.

Arronn's superior thanked us for our hard work, and urged us to rest as he took custody of our prisoners and the box. Later that evening, he explained that the chest had an ancient tome on the burial mound that would be translated shortly. The chest itself had been trapped so that tampering with it would have destroyed the book. The older priest thanked us for exceeding his expectations, as now the Temple of Darien could exact its revenge on its rivals.

Trainz-- I will discuss the loot in the next post shortly.

 

[William Ronald]

(Sorry for not updating this sooner.)


Journal Entry: New Allies and a Harrowing Journey
It did not take long to divide the wealth after our trip to Dartham. I received Duncan's masterwork chain hauberk and sword along with some gold. Arronn claimed a well-made jerkin of studded leather, while Mookesh and Grizz claimed most of the gold from our reward. I made some more gold from the Temple by selling off my old armor, hoping that the priests of Darien the Just would find a good use for it. The priestess' amulet was to be melted down and made into something useful to the Temple -- which would unnerve the amulet's former owner.

Arronn's superior told us that it would likely be a few weeks before our next mission, and advised us to celebrate. We walked to a nearby tavern run by two dwarves. Among the customers, were two dwarves -- with the smell of the Moors on them and several wounds on their arms and legs. They were enjoying their mugs of ale, after what seemed to be a hard journey.

I greeted them, and one seemed annoyed to be disturbed from his drink. I mended this by ordering whiskey for both, which the dwarven innkeeper offered on the house.

The two dwarves introduced themselves as Spatz and Raskilinov Odipherus, brothers and members of a wandering band of hill dwarves. They were part of a war band led by a warrior known as Stonebeard who had decided to raid the kobolds of the moors. Five of the band fell to the kobolds, and Stonebeard ordered the brothers to seek help in Jalston as he stood locked in combat with several kobolds. They had made their way by raft from the village of Vinebank, and had only arrived that afternoon.

Spatz, the older of the brothers, told most of the story while his brother Ras -- who had disliked being disturbed from his drink but was now pleased with the whiskey -- nodded and added a few supporting comments. Spatz asked for help in either aiding Stonebeard in defeating the kobolds or returning his bodies and those of their five clan members back to their people for burial. They would claim possession of all property belonging to their clan, but we were welcome to what we could find -- and what reward the clan bestowed upon us.

I told the dwarves that I saw the mission as honorable, and I was interested in assisting them. Arronn said he would like to learn more, sounding a cautious note, and recommended that they seek healing at the Temple. The dwarves seemed reluctant until Arronn pointed out that the Temple was near the tavern.

The next day we found the ferryman who had brought the dwarves to Jalston, and bought passage to the Moors just across from Vinebank. The day was uneventful, and we camped on a cairn as night fell.

During Spatz's watch, several slingstones landed in our camp and the yells of kobolds rang out in the night. Arronn whispered a prayer, and touched a rock which glowed like the noonday sun. I hurled the rock some 60 feet where it landed in a band of kobolds. I saw the dwarven beards woven into their clothing, and saw hateful looks flash across the faces of Spatz and Ras.

With a roar, both dwarves charged the kobolds who fell before Spatz's sword and Ras' axe. I yelled, "Remember to take a prisoner." as I charged down. Kobolds were being cleaved in two as I found myself beset by a kobold warrior. To my disgust, I saw bones woven in among the dwarven beards. My sword pierced his heart, even as one of his fellows charged at me.

While neither the dwarves or myself had captured a prisoner, a mistake which I regretted, the kobolds were slain. The dwarves quickly retrieved the dwarven beards and any bones which might have been dwarven from the dead.

when I reached the top of the cairn, Arronn was shocked and spoke of an ogre ridding a bug. Spatz mentioned that the bugs were no problem once you hacked off their legs, appearing not noticing the mace that the priest carried. He informed him the ogre was a Mogre, a denizen of the moors known to ride giant beetles. The priest and the dwarf argued on the right way to fight such a threat, until Arronn and Grizz left to return to Vinebank for the night.

Spatz, Ras and myself moved to a nearby hilltop, and resumed our watch. In the night, our rest was interrupted during Ras watch by bloodcurdling howls. I awoke to the sound, and was urged by the brothers to fire an arrow at a Moorhound. Even as they spoke, a spectral hound ran at us with an unnatural speed. My arrow fell short of its mark, and the noise unnerved me. In terror, I sped from the hill -- and heard other footsteps.

As I ran, I felt something pierce my side and heard shouts in the distance. I paid them no heed as I felt an unnatural terror seize my heart. All I could think of was running, to find some place free of the horrid howls filling my ears.

Writers note: I failed three consecutive Will saves against fear, and Rath was running at a fast clip for a man in chain mail. The character was wounded, and outran the hounds. It hought adding a bit of uncertainty about what happened from Rath's perspective emphasized the sheer terror the character experienced in game. I guess the failed saves made up for my critical hits against the kobolds. /I]

Later, both Spatz and Ras approached me. Ras said that he had tackled his brother and that both slew the moor hounds. I cannot recall whether I fought any or if I had merely outdistanced them. Blood dripped from a gash near my ribs, and I quaffed a healing potion to shake away the unnatural chill in my bones. I felt the warmth returning to my flesh, and the strange sensation of wounds healing in a heartbeat.

We went back to our camp, and resolved to go to Vinebank. Clearly we needed Grizz and Arronn to continue our journey in the Moors. As the night ended, I saw Spatz writing in a journal as Ras casually walked past him.

 

[Mark]

(Sorry for not updating this sooner.)

Ah, but it's always worth the wait...

 

[The messenger]

Come on guys, I need mooooore!