Meet 78, Adv 5, 3/23/19

The Party had a chance to explore part of one of the Stolen Kingdoms, or Sovereign Lands; Canaslan. This is headed by a former mercenary Seljack of Madar, a fairly successful swordsman with 12 years of skill under his belt before he lucked out and had the Sovereign Stone on exiting the Terror Dungeon. His place is a "sellsword's haven" and the principle city is a former orcish trading city known as Paxian.

What's strange to the group, although the entire place stinks a bit of BO and beer, there ARE some redeeming qualities about the place that does sound attractive. For now.

Write up follows:

Paxian was at one point a minor trading city in the Ympire of Rand over a century ago but had been sacked during the dwarven assault and remained either a veritable ghost town and shattered remnant of its former self. When the Sovereign Stone was found almost 13 years ago and the Mercenary Seljack of Madar was lucky enough to be found holding one, the next area around Bork Keep that was open encompassed the moldering city of Paxian and it’s barely 1,000 residents.

Paxian, now the crowning jewel of the Kingdom of Canaslan, houses a bit over 10,000 souls and is known for having one of the largest and most active black markets in the nearest two dozen leagues. The group walked their way up to the city, having to pass through a shanty town of slurry roads and broken lean-tos where the scent of despair and drudgery filled the air. The walls to the city showed long ago damage that was inexpertly repaired and there was a run off from the wall to a pool where the people living outside the city brought buckets and gourds to get something to drink.

The outer gates were long gone, the portcullis had been torn free, and as we passed through the breezeway, we could see other signs of disrepair. The Courtyard was cordoned off by a palisade of wooden slat fencing, piled stone, and other barriers, the main gate was an ox cart laden with long sheets of metal, spears and spikes, and lengths of undressed lumber. We could tell that we were inside a “kill box”, bracketed on all sides by crossbow wielders on the other side, while two guards stood at the gate, each with a kris-bladed broadsword and a halberd at the ready.

They wore a mix of brigandine and scalemail and had tabards on, red, with a large “X” inside a circle. We identified ourselves, Barb taking point on the discussion where we got a list of rules and generally accepted behaviors in Paxian and Canaslan at large. Freedom of speech important, freedom of religion important, freedom of love and sex important ONLY if both parties interested, murder or the like sentenced to immediate death. All rules were sacrosanct and violation of them would result in being beheaded and your head stuck on a spike outside Castle Whitehall.

Touching on Castle Whitehall, everything else in town seemed to be in poor condition and barely held together, ruts in the cobbles, poor drainage, questionable buildings – but King Seljack’s castle was…perfect. White alabaster marble walls, blue tower tops, 4 or 5 stories tall, minarets, flying buttresses, and a the huge flag of red with a the X and circle – in complete contrast to the rest of the town.

We were invited to stay at the Fox and Henhouse Inn and Tavern in White Shadow (upper class district near the castle) and made our way inside. The main market square was mostly empty, a few vendors selling some meat on a stick or some left over vegetables that were remaining on their carts. A towering large half-ogre in an over-sized trench coat was watching the group as they entered and looked around. He motioned them closer and then asked them if they wanted to take a shit.

What?

He opened the trench and showed he had a cup of wet rags tied on his right knee, a foul bag tied on his left knee, and between them on the floor was a brass chamber pot. Yep, a portable outhouse. Most of the businesses won’t let you use their facilities unless you were a paying customer and being caught crapping on the streets of Paxian was a punishable offence, so for a bit – there were a group of a dozen or so half-ogres who set up this business for citizens who needed to go.

Thalin went, dropping a bit for his troubles, and we talked to the half-ogre, named Eydis, for a bit, getting his take on the city. On an average day he makes about 150 bits (his share) but on Marketday he could clear over 300 bits in 8 or 9 hours. We asked him the best place to stay and where to go and he suggested the Bawdy Wench Tavern, take the western main street up and around to White Shadow and the Tavern was there.

As we walked the streets of Paxian we saw some signs of commerce and industry, but easily 1 in 3 or 4 buildings were being underutilized, leading us to understand that Paxian could continue to grow and had plenty of room to do so. There were chicken about, quiet a number of them. And we also noted many of the shops and businesses had something to do with the brewing of beer. Malters, mashers, strainers, fermenters, conditioners, and the like – there was an aroma of sugar in the air as well as hops and barley.

We arrived at the Bawdy Wench Tavern and after getting a place to sit in the Common Room, a pair of wenches took care of us, taking our writ of stipend from the GRSAG to cover our room and meal, but also introduced us to a variety of local beers: Paxian Brown, His Majesty’s Deep Lager, Two Cask Beer, even something called Pumpkin Head Beer that Dizzy enjoyed. No one wanted to try the brew referred to as Grimyrian Shadow which we understood came from a trading deal with the nearby Sovereign Kingdom where the fields of barley were fertilized with “god knows what” and came from “the undead kingdom – no thanks!!”.

We drank, ate, sampled some braised steak on a stick and crusty buttered rolls, and had a nice night. The thought was to get some information about the crates and their costs as made locally here from whoever would craft such things, getting a price and seeing if we could use that the help sell the idea of the Letter of Credit to King Seljack. A few of the wenches and bandy-boys did try to make a run at the group but we shut them down and they knew that there was going to be no business for them tonight.

We rested and awoke the next feeling pretty good. The rooms were in good repair and had numerous safeguards and measures in place to dissuade casual thievery. At breakfast we asked the locals where the best place was to see about boxes and were told to head to the east end of town to the carpenter’s district.

We went on our way and say a number of men (and women) working with a variety of saws and the like, stripping long boles of trees and getting useable lumber out of it. We questioned a few now and again, learning that there was crate maker who made for the King himself on the next block named Hongor. Hongor was a middle aged dwarf who was working with his 3 journeymen when we arrived.

Once pleasantries were dispensed we learned that the King had indeed commissioned 24 such crates almost 5 months ago, first time he had done so with the specifications that they were more than twice as sturdy as the normal shipping crates (5’x 3’x 3’). When tested they could withstand 800lbs of force and had a double cross buck system supporting the inside and out. Each crate was built to exacting specifications and took about 2 days each to make interspersed with normal business.

So it was a surprise when a bit over a month ago he requested 19 more of them and only a week ago Hongor and his people finished the order. He would not tell us what the King paid for them, but if we wanted a similar crate, it would cost us 80 nobles per crate, with a probably discount if we ordered multiples of them. We thanked Hongor and armed with that knowledge left the woodworking district and made out way back to White Shadow and eventually Castle Whitehall.

We had a better feel for how we were going to handle the King and the Letter of Credit and arrived at the line outside Castle Whitehall where some 2 dozen stood in line in front of us. The King was meeting with people from 8 to12 and then again from 1 to 4. We were assured we would NOT meet with the king before lunch but would be shortly afterwards as he was with each group some 15 to 30 minutes before moving to the next.

Eventually another Half ogre with a trench coat and chamber pot arrived and we took advantage of his presence and then a travelling meat seller arrived and we took advantage of that as well. Eventually the line snaked in again and then after some traders from Grimyria went ahead we had our chance to meet with King Seljack.

He was well protected in a throne room seated on a raised dais, surrounded by halberdiers and crossbowmen, a leather clad woman was positioned behind him as if a bodyguard, and there was a small cordoned off section where sycophants and courtiers stood in audience. Seljack was about 50, thinning greying brown hair, still a muscular build, bearded and having a few scars and laugh lines on his face. A simple but well used kris style longblade was near his throne and he seemed to have a smirk and smile of a man who was comfortable and just in his place in the world.

Within a few minutes he was apoplectic in his anger at Pha-iyr Carom and the Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventuring Guild. We talked about the missing crates, the ignominy of the GRSAG, Pha-iyr being a cowardly prick, and the group being sent here to face his ire while the half-elf hid back in Erylond.

We tried to present the Letter of Credit in a good light, Seljack noting with irony that the Duke himself had been dragged into this mess. It seemed that Seljack and Pha-iyr had a long standing hatred and rivalry dating back 15 years to before the Terror Dungeon ever opened and the half-elf black listing Seljack when the Adventuring Guild first opened its books. Since then it’s not gotten any better and this “fortuitous destruction of MY property” is just the latest icing on the cake.

He did talk about his trip into the Terror Dungeon, The Glyph Gate for the Sovereign Stone was found on the 7th level, and something about Vampire hair was a component to help enter the place. We paid attention to that (along with wandering Minotaurs on the 3rd level!!) and knew that this could be bullshit or very outdated information since it had been 13 years since Seljack ever wandered the Halls of the Terror Dungeon.

Eventually he sounded like he would agree to it and we should come back tomorrow at lunch, eat with him, and he’d sign the two Letters of Credit then. We left without issue (passing a few guys sharpening metal spikes to put on the walls) and were back in the streets, north of Castle Whitehall and it was almost 2 pm.

We decided to visit the Black District for now but NOT go to see Thimbles until tomorrow when we were ready to leave Paxian and return to Erylond. On the north end of town, taking us the size of a city block, we were surprised at how…open it was. No one bothered us, as long we kept to ourselves and our money was good, we were welcome. We did stop at a weaver who sold double sided clothes and a few of us got some for now, allowing only a short time to effect a quick change of appearance. Some boots with hollows in the heels wrapped us up and we did not where Thimbles location was, a warehouse with the signage “Canaslan Export Company” upon it.

It was almost 3 on Spiritmonth the 6th and we were deciding what to do next.

Meet 77, Adv 5, 3/9/19

At this point we are bouncing to the Surface Group to give them a chance to catch up in time as well flesh out the other part of this adventure. It will be 3 or 4 meetings on the surface than a catch up of both sets and a hopefully another trip into the Terror Dungeon for something. Oooo, Aaaaa.

Write up follows:

We find ourselves going back 5 days in time, at the moment when the two groups diverged, half heading to Bork Keep, and the other still at Erylond and looking to get some work done for the Adventurer’s Guild.

It was Spirit Month the 4th around 9:30 when the party was ready to leave our room at the Flying Pegasus Inn and head off to the Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventurer’s Guild. We had a meeting with Pha-iyr Carom, the Guild’s facilitator who was going to give us a job to perform this early in our charter. It would give us some coin and allow us to show the Guild that we were happy to be promising members and able to help out.

Thalin, Merica, Barb, Dizzy, Hjalgrim, Percy, and Shimlagesh finished their breakfast and then made their way to their meeting. We arrived in a timely manner and two of the Guild’s Enforcers, a pair of Half-Ogre toughs, met us in the foyer and had a brief conversation with us. We divested ourselves of our weapons, chatted with them briefly, and then made our way to the lower library where Pha-iyr Carom was waiting for us along with another person.

An adult male Grey Elf was waiting there along with the Half-elven facilitator. Having that etheric thinness that many Grey Elves develop, the figure was wearing a set of Sorcerer Robes from the Arcane Academy and both him and Thalin expressed enthusiasm as seeing one another.

He was Paris, a nobleman elf from Tiloni, a major city on the northern portion of Rand, and at one point had been on of Thalin’s mentor’s during his time at the mage’s guild there before he decided there was more of an opportunity in potentially striking out on his own and joining up with other like-minded people in mercenary work.

Paris, along with other members of the Academy, had been getting Thalin’s missives for the last 2 years or so, about 1 a month, and following his trials and tribulations during that time. But, it was the seemingly increase in power and influence the one time apprentice had been amassing that was a source of conversation, and indeed envy for those who were still part of Tower life. How can a person in two years equal the skills, experience, and capabilities that a tower worked individual might have spent 2 or 3 decades achieving?

Paris had presented his arguments to the Tower council, including his own family who were on the board, and was told that he should not worry about such things and spend his decades with care building his path one small step at a time. This rankled the normally well balanced sorcerer who after 40 years of indoctrination, realized that perhaps Tower life was not the answer to the way of things. He was instead looking to show his skills and capabilities were beyond that of a neophyte magic user and was hoping to establish himself as a valid enchanter even with a Testing.

Most magics were beyond his skill so he took to performing longer rituals, powered by the blood and mana. Since he was lower level, he used blank requisition documents and presented them to the Local Magistrate for prisoners who were to be executed that day and used their dying to power some of the spells that were normally outside his purview. It did not go well – in fact it went poorly both times he attempted it.

Eventually he was called to Council where harsh words were bandied about and he left in anger and some disgrace. Already knowing where Thalin was and his own successes, he partook of the next caravan heading across the Randari plains in effort to arrive in Erylond and hopefully learn how Thalin was able to amass his skills and power in the face of the Tower’s teachings and learnings. And if possible, join the adventuring guild and the local Mage’s Guild.

Pha-iyr Carom had numerous documents supporting Paris’ skills and abilities, and was willing to have him meet the group – but his time with the group would be limited to his ability to learn to control his baser instincts and how to temper his time and maturity into working with the body as a whole. If his time with the party on this small mission went well, Pha-iyr Carom would green light his admission to the Guild and would pass on the approval to the Arcane Academy here to have his standing and rank transferred from Tiloni to Erylond. If he did NOT do well, then…it would suck to be him very quickly.

We talked for a bit and then came to what Pha-iyr Carom and the GRSAG wanted for us. We were to go to Canaslan, one of the Sovereign Kingdoms (actually the 2nd one) and meet with the King, Seljack of Madar in the capital city of Paxian. The story was that King Seljack had commissioned the GRSAG about 4 months ago for some Steel Wool (metallic wool found on subterranean sheep in the Terror Dungeon) from sanctioned adventurers – delivered after 3 months of gathering to Canaslan. He supplied 24 large wooden crates for the GRSAG to fill with the understanding that all crates, empty or full, were to be returned after 3 months.

A fire in the warehouse caused by an errant former member of the guild fireballing the area, resulted in 19 of the 24 crated being destroyed. So upon the completion of the contract, the GRSAG delivered 5 crates and three large bags of Steel Wool. Since then, there have been a month and a half of increasingly angry letters back and forth with King Seljack getting angrier and more belligerent each time. According to the letter of the Writ and the Esquire’s opinion – the Guild IS responsible for the crates. So, Pha-iyr is sending the party to Canaslan to meet with King Seljack and give him the letter of credit drawn against the Duke of Erylond’s own coffers for the full market value (and then some) for the 19 crates: 85 nobles per crate, for a total of 1,615 nobles.

There is no negotiating, the Letter is what it is – it’s the group’s job to make this offer and make it palatable. His signature needs to appear on each Letter and a copy of the Letter comes back here and the GRSAG will present it to the Duke at that time allowing the money to be withdrawn. We’re getting 3 crowns each for the job and the GRSAG will cover our room, meals, and lodging for 2 days.

While the paperwork is being drawn up we are told that Shandrilar, Wizard-Lord of the Tower of Winds, would like the group to pick up some material she had ordered from Paxian and Canaslan and is now ready – and we split up – Hjalgrim, Percy, Dizzy, and Barb head off to the Stinky Cat Inn (on Pha-iyr’s hint dropping to Dizzy of a potential avenue to meet with the local Thieves’ Guild) while Merica, Thalin, Shim, and Paris head off to the Magic User’s District to visit the Wizard-Lord in question.

The Magic User’s District is along the inner wall of the outer ring on the western side of Erylond. A sizable district, it is surrounded by a low 4’ wall with multiple gates. Six main towers and some 30 to 40 smaller structures make up the District and we follow direction to Shandrilar’s. It’s some 80’ tall, flying buttresses, fanciful carvings, and a spiraling blue and yellow color from base to roof. It has a fenced in area of 100’ square as its yard and we wait briefly to be allowed entrance. A palanquin is seen near the stables.

Once inside we find a dampening field that retards the magic a bit and then are led to meet with the Wizard-Lord in her dining area. She’s human, appearing to be in her 30’s, and is tall, almost 6’ and aloof. Her mannerisms seem aloof and after introductions are made she gives us her job. She requested a quart of Crested Dracomen from a gnomish “acquirer” named Thimbles, found in the Black District of Paxian. This type of blood takes some time to gather and once done, is potent for a few weeks before begins to spoil and she was just informed it was ready. She wants us to get it and bring it back. It’s already been paid for so all we need to do is just pick up the material and return without issue.

Sadly Paris had an abrupt way of speaking to the Wizard-Lord who vented her anger on the novice sorcerer who collapsed down screaming, his clothes whipping off his shoulders and lines and welts appearing on his skin. It lasted some 15 seconds where he then arose shaking and much cowed, convinced he had been tossed into Tartarus. She then repeated her requested and Paris answered much more contrite and willing to listen.

We took the job, she gave us 15 crowns (oh my god, she had NO idea what the job would actually be worth to do, overpaying the party who took the mission without saying a word) and we left going to meet the group back again at the Stinky Cat.

Meanwhile the other half of the group made their way further along the main thoroughfare, coming to the Stinky Cat Inn, a massive 3 story structure with its own stables and small smith house. The plethora of feral and semi-tamed cats littering the outside of the establishment gave credence to the place’s name. There was a large U shaped central bar, a decent sized minstrel stage on the right hand side, and a double wide set of stairs going up to the 2nd and third floor where and overhang balcony looked down to the main Common Room, large enough to seat 4 to 500 easily. Before entering, Dizzy did spot on the lintel of the main entrance and Guild Marking identifying the place as an Elysium: a safe place for all members to come and meet as well as a place where no crimes were to take place.

At the main bar Hjalgrim and Percy took center place attracting the tender over with long sweeps of his arms and a booming voice. Dizzy and Barb took a place furthest away along the left side at the end of the “U” where a tired wench in her 40’s took our order and Dizzy Canted to her a desire to “meet”. She didn’t reply but returned 2 beers to the pair of them and Dizzy was instructed to “drink up and quickly”.

At the bottom of his mug was a scratched message in CANT to “Sit at 3rd booth”. And to the area behind them were a series of booths privacy walled and poorly lit. Dizzy waved to Barb and left her at the bar before taking a seat at the booth in question with his beer. The Half-orc was enticed to join Hjalgrim at the bar leaving Dizzy on his own.

He sat for some time, watching the bar and seeing who might be the person in the Common Room he would peg as a contact for the Guild. Imagine his surprise when a portly, on the edge of obese, sweating man of late 30’s came from out of his blind spot and asked to sit with Dizzy “Just to rest a second”. He made lots of blowing noises and seemed to mop his forehead a bit before getting some information from Dizzy and Dizzy getting some from him. His name was Caetius and he asked Dizzy if he’s be willing to talk to a few of his Friends – since they have a different idea of what’s a good member and that he had been known to make harsher and less forgiving decisions in the past.

After introducing Dizzy to three others, a human woman named Varia with a cold attractiveness and an unsettling look in her eyes, a waifish young and thin boy barely 16 named Arritius, and a late 30’s Halfling named Syppon – Dizzy being entranced into playing a game of checkers.

The game was a ruse and Dizzy was questioned by the 3 of them who had different ideas they were looking for. Varia wanted loyalty and honesty, Arrituis wanted someone who could be part of a group, and Syppon wanted someone who wasn’t into it for the thrill but had more of a clearer view of the long term aspects of his decisions. After the conversation went on for a bit, Caetius returned and flat out said he didn’t like adventurers. They owe allegiances to the guilds and their groups first and the Thieves guild end up getting the short end of the shaft. Their guild has a deal with the mage’s quarter and it’s been working well for them.

Dizzy tried to sell them on his ability to act as an impartial outsider who can vouch for Thieves guild members if need be, plus his party has 5 different mages and sorcerers already in their ranks so it makes sense to tie their skills together. Caetius was unsure and was willing to revisit this later. Right now the group had a mission to Canaslan and Paxian and something to do for Shandrilar of the Tower of Winds and if that went well, he would take it as a provisional ok that Dizzy could be admitted on a trial basis.

At this point the entire group got back together and we shared all we had learned as well as advised Paris to tread more carefully in the future – a consensus he seemed to be more apt to do along with a few much needed flagons of Ale.

We left the following morning on Spiritmonth the 5th, heading east down the maid road out of the Tradegates. The land within 3 or 4 miles of Erlyond was all farms and the like, well traveled and used. However as we went further away the population diminished and we were walking in mostly unsettled territory. It took us the better part of the day until we came upon a singular strange phenomenon – the air before us shimmered as if from a heat mirage, but nothing was there.

As we passed through the temperature rose from upper 40’s to upper 50’s and the air took on the scent of beer and ale as well as the faint underfunk one gets amidst unwashed clothes. The straight lines of the fields took on a bit of a wave and seemed less clean and crisp. A few people we saw welcomed us to Canaslan, and from their stance, seemed a bit…inebriated.

It was closer to 5 when we spied a main road travelling north off the highway, heading about half a mile to a walled city with a singular white castle seen even from this distance. That had to be Paxian, and there we would eventually meet with King Seljack.

Meet 76, Adv 5, 3/2/19

We lost another person at the table this week and it was a blow for me personally being as I regard him as a good friend. I had no direct idea it was coming and for myself, I was ill prepared to learn that he was not coming back and saddened. It happens, sometimes in this hobby people's lives change and the ability to free up time diminishes, but my argument has always been that in a 168 hours, I am asking for 5, maybe 6 if you include drive time. It's not even close to breaking and not every week.

So this means I have to find another person to fill the seat which I hate doing. Luckily I had only done this 7 months earlier when we found Rik and at that time I had 3 other people who I had promised I would keep their information if something worked out.

One of the 3 was still available and we met him, he checked off the minimal amount of boxes I was looking for, and we offered him an invite which he was thrilled to get and will be here on the 9th to roll up his character and sit down with us.

As for the group, they finished a local exploration of Entrance 3 and decided to cut bait while they still had time on the clock. They really want to get the Chime of Exiting and are hoping to make that their direct destination the next trip in.

Write up follows:

The group spent a good amount of time looking over the remains of the trophy room, knocking the walls for secret doors and trying to get a feel for the chamber, meanwhile Avulstein was working on a raising the fleshy skeletal remains of the Ogre. Once the ritual was done it staggered to its feet and took a few instructions to get situated with its new place in life.

Once we were set we lit two more new torches and Sybil checked out the door back to hall. She heard nothing and we opened the door, torch light spilling out when she a gasp from down the hall and then breathing and running feet. She slammed it closed and let us know what was going on. We then waited a few minutes before she opened it again, the torches held away from the portal so her infravision could kick in.

Nothing was out here now and we risked some torch light along with the light already down the hall and then emerged with care. Something had disturbed the bloody area the ogre had been killed in and we came closer to further identify what happened. There were large bare footed bloody footprints running down the hall away from us to the north and along the wall a number of spears in the wall and gore of some taloned 3 fingered hand that was again, taller than us and larger than normal human sized.

We took a blanket and laid it across the blood to avoid trailing our own and Sybil, Connal, and Negan crossed the gore, Brading and Gryg stayed close, Darius and Avulstein (and the ogre skeleton!) watched the hall to the west to make sure nothing snuck up on us. There were three doors on the hall, two on the right, one on the left, and in the gloom it looked like there was a door at the end of the long hall.

The closest door had a number of gnaw marks on the bottom, and a few in the center and top of the door, as if something inside the room gnawed its way out long ago. It was in poor condition and looked like it had been forced many times in the past and then hammered back into place. A faintly wavering orange glow was coming from within the chamber seen through the cracks, but we couldn’t tell what it might be.

The next door, some dozen paces down the hall also looked like it had been forced in the past. The scent of rot, salt, and a vinegary smell. We assumed pantry and decided to move on for now. The last door was on the opposite side of the hall. We gave a listen and heard nothing. That left the main door at the end of the hall. It was closed an according to out torchlight, whoever ran here (whatever!?) hit the door, fumbled for the knob, left bloody hand prints on doing both, and then most likely stepped through.

We decided we didn’t want to do that at all. We scattered a few bags of caltrops just to make sure and then went back to the middle door. We took our time and Darius who was keeping track of it for us, let us know we had time to look at one door only and then we should get the hell out of here. The door was opened and there were stone shelves filled with rotting stuff upon it. In a semicircle pattern just inside the door was a large dumping of salt and the walls and floor has some sort of olive green and red veined slimy coating upon it. We assumed slug?

Either way – we wanted nothing to do with it for now. So we shut the door, reconvened together, and began our walk back to the entrance, supposedly about 2 hours plus before the entrance would move if Darius and Brading’s estimate was good.

Back through the table room, back through the zombie room, and back through the long hall we stopped at the door and could hear voices on the other side. The same deep masculine sounding voices speaking a language we didn’t know, and the feral piping sound of goblin voices. Shit. How many? At least half a dozen, maybe more.

Ok, we listened for a bit and were able to deduce the goblins were talking to the other figures who were guarding the room on supposed adventurers and one of them was named Hrabi. We didn’t think they were leaving any time soon so we hatched a plan – we would cast silence on the ogre skeleton, send him in to attack anything inside there, and then while distracted, we would charge up the stairs and get out before the crap hits the fan.

We all drew weapons and got ready, Brading cast silence and the Ogre went in we waited until we could hear ourselves again and then charged in. It was 20’ to the steps and as we hit them and started climbing, we had the chance to see a dozen goblins and three 8’ tall almost naked blue skinned figures shouting (silently) and pointing. We ran, calling for the dwarves to open the door while whatever was giving chase emerged from the silence spell in the gloom behind us, its roars were rippling the air and we could feel it buffeting the group as we charged the doors.

They were opened and we all ran inside, the amulets doing their job as we cycled through the lock and the doors were shut and chained once more.

We emerged again a bit after 1 in the morning and were met with Kara and the dwarven guards once more. They let us know the blue creatures were Quillians and if they roar long enough, people fighting them become flustered and confused during the combat, swinging wildly.  We went off to the Mess Hall where a round of beer and whatever foods were still available were eaten and discussed what happened and what our next objective was.

Besides going in and checking out Entrance One, the thought was to go back to Entrance Two and find out where the Glyph Gate to the Chime could be found. We knew enough that is was in that area. While discussing possibilities, Brading suggested just asking the two adventuring women we had met in the dungeon and the bar earlier today (Ketik and Abera) to at least eliminate some possibilities for us and offer to pay. We knew they were leaving tomorrow so we decided to switch to the Second Visitors Hall where they were staying and approach them in the AM.

We fell into an exhausted sleep and it was a bit after 8:30 that the two adventuring women woke us up with the sound of their packing. They apologized for their noises and we talked briefly about our 2nd trip in (still not a Foray) and what we had learned. We allowed the conversation to flow for a bit and shared our Ogre sized pipe with them along with some halfling’s weed while the party steered them around the conversation for a bit until we touched upon the Chime and how to get one.

At this point Negan excused himself to go to the bathroom and went outside to the lavatory where he called upon Odin to allow him to Read Mind – pushing his efforts through until he could settle on Ketik and then Abera who although the female fighter had been quiet, her thoughts were different and quite talkative, letting Negan know much about where they should go and what they should do. Meanwhile inside the Hall, we had offered a small pile of gold for some information on what to do from the 2nd Entrance and were told to go down the North Passage, the one with the archways – which Connal using his enchanted headband was able to verify was NOT a lie.

Eventually we thanked them enough and they left, we shared what we had learned and agreed that we should take a day to rest up and swap some spells around, then go back in tomorrow (around 3:30) to the 2nd Entrance and try to find the Glyph Gate. Negan did let us know that Abera had mentioned something about Brass bits so we were going to go to the Castellan and see if we can get some change for the time being.