Obviously an "anger" statement and not one to be taken literally. Except that was definitely on the table and one of the many plans for the elven murderer - and when they had the opportunity, that is exactly what they had made the culprit do.
Let me tell you, for a table of guys, we were all a bit grossed out at it. I also think that the death of Fist'al and our "missing" the rest of the regular adventure was sort of a catharsis for us - and we'll be a tighter group because of it.
Our roster of people are in flux but after the next write-up I should be able to post it correctly without a problem.
Write up follows:
With our false documents in hand we went to Elvengate, a southern entrance to Woodhelven located up against Elvenkeep. The guards there were only nominally suspicious of us, addressing Marcus primarily and reminding him (and the rest of us) that anything that might go wrong would be on his head.
We were through the gate and proceeded as best we could in a south-southeasterly direction, hoping to find the encampment Fist’al was hiding in before he moved on. A three count of elven Dragoons rode out to us, verified our paperwork, and seemed to be only marginally interested in the cover story we had concocted. The party felt a bit out of place, the forest was old – terribly old – and we knew we had to step lightly, and get out.
A number of unicorns had emerged at one point, the group was pretty much ensorcelled by their appearance, but the equines had then moved on. We were looking for the Shimmerstream – a major waterway in Woodhelven that we knew from the scrying before ran very close to the encampment Fist’al was hiding in.
It was just about 10 to 5 that we came upon it, and we were also hailed by a figure in the forest. An elven female emerged from some distance and questioned why we were here. Guessing her to be scout for the encampment, we tried to draw her out in conversation but she was having none of it. Instead she was willing to escort us around the training lands of “The Brotherhood of the Silent Shot” and guide us on our way to Elvenkeep.
We allowed her (Celwyn) to do so, noting that she did walk us some 500 north and then turned at a right angle and walked us some 300 west – giving the group the feeling where the encampment actually was. We also were able to pick up faint sounds and bird calls from behind Celwyn, making us even more aware that the Brotherhood (and maybe even Fist’al) were out there. The jig was about up, because Fist’al would see any of us, or catch our name – he’d most likely run.
It was here that we then turned and dove for cover, while Auri and Mummus tackled Celwyn and finished her off before she could do anything more than bark in surprise. Arrows filled the air as we scrambled off our horses, the group being on the receiving end of the crazy fusillade of feathered shafts falling about us. On the enemy side we did hear one of the member cast a bless spell, which resulted in the arrows falling with a bit more accuracy.
The group returned fire but the amount of trees and cover made it difficult to get an accurate shot on either side. What we did do though, was concentrate most of our fire on the enemy cleric, forcing him to seek shelter and prevented him from casting spells as freely and as fast as expected.
The group sneaked their way forward, jumping from behind one tree and racing to the next one, bringing the fight closer and closer to the elven contingent. Flimflam held onto his precious bottle of “Elven Control” and was trying to get within 30’ of Fist’al – supposedly how far we had to be for the potion to work. But in our struggle to get closer fast enough, we came within range of one of the elven defenders who fired off a sleep spell – which dropped Whosea and Auri – but was NOT powerful enough to also knock out Flimflam. And our gnomish leader quaffed his potion, took control of Fist’al and had the thief/murderer step out and shout, “Enough!”
With Flimflam controlling Fist’al we were able to sort of allow the Brotherhood of the Silent Shot to let us go, Fist’al “volunteering” to lead us out. We went, hoping against hope that we could far enough from the Brotherhood as possible and NOT run across any other elven contingent in the forest. Especially while using an extremely illegal “potion of Elven Control”. We ticked off the minutes – knowing that we had 60 minutes of the potion to be used before it would end.
At 20 minutes north of the Brotherhood, we had Fist’al strip off all his armor, weaponry, and magical items, the rest of the party quickly scooping them us and hiding them throughout the party. And then it became gruesome and Flimflam forced Fist’al to bend himself completely over in, swing his leg over his head…and then physically eat his own manhood from his own body and swallow it. Even though it was something Flimflam had said he would make Fist’al do, it was still terrible to behold; blood running down his chin, the former thief chewing his own flesh off and swallowing it.
From here we then forced him to swallow the potion of polymorph, turning him into a donkey. Which immediately broke the potion of elven control since he was no longer an elf. A calm animal spell eased him up and we dropped rope and bridle on his neck and escorted Fist’al out of the elven forest where we entered Elvenkeep through the main gate. From here we went to the Temple of Poseidon where the priests were thrilled to have the murderer brought in for justice.
And their justice was a multi-tiered thing of brutality and cruelty – rape, torture, death, healing, breaking and battering. Over 30 times Fist’al’s heart stopped beating during the 6 days of torture, the priests continuously bringing back north of 0 hps. But it was midnight the 17th or Workmonth, Fist’al had been broken and we were given supplies for the long journey back to Shakun. The only thing left was the removal of Fist’al’s head with a burning hot sword and the cauterized grisly item placed at the bottom of a leather-lined sack filled with oats.