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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Altalazar" data-source="post: 29049" data-attributes="member: 939">Chapter Three:  We return to face more Demons from the Pits of HellChapter Three:  We return to face more Demons from the Pits of Hell    To be clear, we didn't manage to find any demons this time out, but it was worth a try.  Even demons can only hold their ground against gnomes for so long before their demonic brains register the need for self-preservation.      Upon our return to the druids, we were introduced to a new savior of the druids, a gnome cleric of Pallas called Skornd.  There's nothing more inspiring than seeing a three foot tall, proud, blood-soaked cleric of war.  I regretted not getting another clothing-cleaning clause in the druid contract.  We found the camp much as we had left it, though upon returning to the dark recesses of the 'secret' place behind the altar, we found two ugly lizard things in a room that we had sworn we had cleaned out on the last visit.  They proved to be tough and vicious opponents, but predictably, being that they weren't demons, and we were gnomes, they fell.  I, of course, got in a few choice stabs in the back.  After that fight, gnomes though we were, we needed to rest, and I, as fearless leader, pointed this out to the others, lest I be remiss in my duties as The Leader.  Alas, I could not contain their enthusiasm to 'scout' further, and so we found some nice bedrooms with black silk sheets and not much else of interest.  Just at the moment when we should have been resting, we instead wandered into a room leading to two more humans in black, an ugly hobgoblin wizard, and a giggly human in black holding the druid-stick.  The druid-stick valet giggled and left, leaving the others to be dispatched upon our blades.  Unfortunately, we hadn't rested, so we had to use up valuable healing elixers and I, once again, had to empty my mind of spells in putting these poor THANGs in their proper place.  We returned to the druids, with all three of them as prisoners (and two of them, including the hobgoblin still alive).  Giggles was no-where to be found.  Skornd gleefully chopped the dead one into handy-sized pieces, and we used these to persuade the hobgoblin to talk and tell us all he knew.  Unfortunately, with hobgoblins, telling all they know never takes very long.  We still didn't even know any of the black-dressed ones' names.  I found that highly annoying.  I mean, THANGs all look alike to me, so I need to have some sort of way to differentiate between them.      We returned with the druids to the encampment, and they spent many an hour attempting to get open the portal that Giggles went through.  They were taking so long I had time to cast identify twice, listen to six arguments between the ranger and the druid, and make some entries into the Chronicles.  All in all, it was a slow afternoon.   We eventually left the druids to play with their portal by themselves, because we had a full load of loot and we didn't want it sitting on our ass.      Oh yes, we didn't bother any interrogation of the other living woman in black.  I didn't think she'd talk either, and perhaps they were both under the influence of some special blocking magic that kept them from talking.  In any case, they were going to have to do their evil deeds in the buff, because we took all of their belongings, went to town, and sold it.  We cleared four hundred gold and some change for each and every one of us (six of us now).  Poor THANGs, financing their own demise.  Stupid bastards.    I had not yet decided to scribe spells in my book.  We found a spellbook with a few spells I could use, but it takes so much time and money to scribe spells that I held off on scribing any new ones.      Oh yes, lest I forget, we found some interesting trinkets.  A magic pearl to recall spells of the first order, a ring of warmth, and some armor bracers.  For some reason, the druid and ranger had a beef about the ring, but when I, in my infinite wisdom, pointed out that Clayton had already acquired an enchanted short-blade, the matter was settled.  The Gnome of the Fist and Feet Fighting Arts now wears the bracers, and the pearl is well soaked in the blood of enemies Skornd.      I have only lukewarm hopes about the mangy druids.  They claimed the portal was for one person at a time, but it would be entirely un-gnome-like to send us through once a day to who-knows-what on the other side.  Especially when there could be demons there.  Fortunately, I remain steadfast in my confidence of my own superiority.  One day, in the not too distant future, we gnomes will have saved the world from itself.  It is a tall job, but then, we gnomes are good at dealing with the tall jobs the giants of the world seem to trip over.  Dumb bastards.</blockquote>

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