Meet 87, Adv 6, 6/15/19

The party is still gathering information and walking around. However the next set piece occurred during this meeting - a theft in their home and a fire set at the granary - which resulted in an orc's death.

And that is going to cause tons of problems for the party to come.

Write up follows:

After wrapping up breakfast with Sheriff (acting) Thurbarn, we knew we wanted to talk with at least 2 others: The Watcher for the Dead Curio and the former Sheriff’s widow, Hula. There was some discussion about charging the Province for our work or getting another reward from them but Brading and Darius were keeping the group more to the “lawful” side of the equation with the knowledge that our charter say we have to resolve the issue – and we had Sir Durcent sign off on that as well. Since the mandate is so broad and the local lord signed off on it, it sort of prevents us from charging a fee to the Province at this time. Darius did promise to shelve the conversation for now as we have more important things to do and upon our completion, if we even can, we can revisit it later.

We went to the Watcher first – a larger crofter’s hut and small altar situated near a rise dotted with tombstones and markers. The Watcher for the Dead Curio was a human male, just past his 40’s. A bit taller and considerably wider than most of the local populace, he was wearing a simple shirt and breeches, only a cloak colored with Hel’s marking gave any sign to his badge of office.

Through a variety of questioning and getting a handle on what the Watcher saw and his opinions on the recent (and former) dead. The 6 people who died over the last 8 days all dies from cyanide poisoning. Blistering, vomiting, sores and irritation. 4 died at night during their sleep. First was one of the 3 church deacons, found poison in his mouth. Then a 16 year old page died at night, poison in her ear. Then the second deacon died, also poison in his mouth – he died during the day. Then a few days later the tradesmaster died, poison introduced to his eyes. Then the Woodward died in his cabin, at the north end of the province – poison was introduced to his penile and rectal cavities (he was known to be a buggerer, a poorly kept secret around town). Then finally, a day before the party arrived, one of the 2 constables died on the streets while walking near the smithy, poison had been introduced to his ear.

We talked about Scratch – the orcish drug. Outside of it being derived from Lion’s Leaf, it only started showing up a few months ago, maybe longer. One of the Champions, the Hunt Master, was known to be a seller of it – buying a large amount and selling it to others who might want it.

Its effects are different between the races. For orcs it gives younger orcs a barbaric high for a short while before ending with a sense of euphoria. Half orcs get a similar sensation except they run hot, almost feverish. For other races, humans, it does elevate your heart rate and gives the person a low grade fever, but you feel terrible when it’s over and are exhausted.

Auganus, the former Sheriff, died at 51 from a heart attack he had suffered during the night. He had come back from a run he had made to Stivil and Curio was convinced at that time there was no foul play. However, now, 2 months later with Scratch being about the Watcher wonders about the exact parameters of Auganus’ death.

We then went to the widow Hula and spoke with her. She was a no nonsense woman, strong, well aware of her former place in society, and exactly what her husband did as Sheriff for the 14 years he held the position. He was a man of passions and in good health, and yes, he was known to push himself if need be, complaining good naturedly about his advancing years and aching knees now and again.

As for Thurbarn, he is an able and capable person and should not have had any problem being sheriff. Auganus had good relations with all three of the nearby orc tribes and thought often of Chief Glamar as a friend – even going to a number of the clan’s festivals now and again. Something is driving the orc to take such a stance. Yes, younger orcs always think wildly of the long forgotten days and wool gather and wish for a return of glory – but by the time most orcs hit their 20’s or later, they realize that it’s a long time ago and move on.

But not now, and Hula is concerned. Something has to give and give soon – pressures are mounting high throughout the Province.

As for Auganus’ trip to Stivil, he didn’t give her any particulars but did say he was looking into some smuggling and it might have something to do with Canaslan. No, he took no deputies with him but that wasn’t that odd – often liking to gather information before committing his men. We thanked her and left.

Before going to the Tavern for lunch, we wanted to head to our house and drop off and swap some equipment when we noticed one of the shutters had been forced open. We took care, examining the area. No one was inside; the shutter looked like someone worked at it with a crowbar. We dispatched Brading and Barb to go get the Sheriff Thurbarn most likely at the Manorhouse.

Looking inside, it seemed some our bags had been pawed through and returned sort of the way we had them. But an inventory of everything showed that one of Darius’ “D-ring” daggers was missing. The sheriff showed, but also had the Ranger Thog Ranswaller and his 16 year old human apprentice Sunder Longwalker arrive. They looked over the place with great care.

Someone had been here, human sized or a bit smaller – boots, and moving with little worry. They also smoothed out their tracks making details difficult to find and follow. They had forced the shutter and lifted the window inside. Only 1 person had been here. They had then ridden away. The hoof prints showed the person had ridden east and then was lost in a field. Darius wanted to give Thog his remaining dagger for the Ranger to hold when we heard a distant bell ringing and cries of fire. It was at this point that Thog let the group know that there were two gnomes in the area, short like Shim, and he had seen them around furtively travelling. Smuggling? Doesn’t know.

Looking west, we could see black smoke rising from the granary as people were gathering close to try and put the fire out. We joined the run, until there were 50 or so of us combating the blaze with buckets and wells and troughs of water. Shimlagesh, being a gnome and small, found himself watching at first and then wandering around. Just near the granary was the cordoned off fenced in area of the temple grounds.

In the back was a maintenance shed and lying in front of it was a figure partially hidden. He watched but the figure was lying still and he thought trying to hide. Convinced it might be the arsonist, he fired off 2 magic missiles which had a hard time of twisting through the air and striking the target. The figure didn’t move. He then dropped a globe of darkness on it – again no movement. He thought perhaps the figure was dead instead.

The fire was mostly under control by this time. About 1/5th of the gathered crops had been burned and the talk amongst the gathered was that this was going to make more problems for the Province. Throughout all this, the local orcs had come out and were watching the fire, cheering it on and making snide comments to the villagers and their efforts to extinguish it.

By this time someone had come back to the Temple area and noticed the body. Shimlagesh made it his business to bleed back into the crowd while the ranger Thog was called forward. The Sheriff tried to hold most of the people back, Sir Durcent, and a few others being allowed past. The figure was an orc of the Wolf Skull Tribe. His throat had been cut and he had old scratches on his arms. Thog was convinced the orc was slain by a mounted man on a war horse armed with a broad or long sword. The hoof prints were deep and long and the horse was shod with a fancy heeled shoe. Chief Glamar had seen the body and was screaming furiously at Sir Durcent who was also getting fed up and yelling back. The group noticed besides the chief and sub-chief, the 3 orcish champions were here as well and their furious expressions and beetled brows coupled with the tightening grip they were squeezing their weapons with did not bode well. The local populace was also growing angry, buckets, hoes, picks, and shovels were no longer angled down but raised over head and fury continued to rise amidst the stink of burned grain and the coppery scent of spilled blood.

Meet 86, Adv 6, 6/8/19

The party wanted to have a war chest of coins before going back to the Terror Dungeon so was looking for a surface adventure they can do and make some money in. So here they go off to some back water Province in effort to help solve the problems going on up here and get the trade good flowing back to Erylond.

Of course its not that straight forward.

Write up follows:

For 2 weeks the group looked for some sort of employment around Erylond. There was plenty of labor jobs to be had paying a few commons a day for 10 hours of hard work, but anything more material just wasn’t there. If we were willing to take on apprenticeship roles at smiths or scriptoriums that would help. With no journeyman papers to our name and only our good will and badges from the Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventuring Guild to attest for us – there was a lack of honest well paying legal work.

Which is what most of us knew years ago which is WHY we became mercenaries in the first place.

We wanted a stipend of coins at our back before descending back into the Terror Dungeon to help outfit us properly and that meant finding some sort of well paying work that would be suited to our skills. Pha-iyr Carom promised he would help us out if possible and spent many days looking over what jobs might come ibn that would be a fit for us.

And eventually on Spiritmonth the 26 with the onset of snow already here, some good news came our way.

We met up with the Guild Facilitator at his office that morning where he was entertaining a middle aged human woman identified as Vespia Neast, Chancellor and Speaker for the Wizard-Lord Celeste Firesworn from the Tower of Eternals here in Erylond. She had come to Pha-iyr a few days ago looking to have a matter resolved for her superior in a far flung province to the north and end of Erylond’s direct control.

There is a province to the north called the Durcent Province run by a local lord named Sir Durcent. It is composed of three steads run by the Durcent family, the Maciles family, and the Ostlerson family. For the last decade plus, Celeste has been commissioning birch bark from an ancient stand of trees that is found on the Durcent Province. These trees are old and their offspring are all descendant from an infused tree that was supposedly ensorcelled at one time in the past. The bark is superior to most other bark and Celeste uses it often when possible for her commissions on books and grimoires that she makes for her clients. There is other birch that can be used but her clients have gotten used to this superior product and she is loathe to use some inferior if at all possible.

About 6 weeks ago the order for birch bark she made from the Durcent province failed to come in – some 40 sheets she had requested and had committed to using. Never having a problem before in getting the material She had sent some letters out to the Province hoping to speed the material along and getting back that there has been some issues with a local orcish tribe making trouble and preventing the harvesting of the not only the birch bark, but other material throughout the province.

More strongly worded letters went out all coming back without the material and Celeste was now forced to refund part of her commission funds to her clients as well as use lesser quality material to complete what she can. This has aggravated the Wizard-Lord who then about 2 weeks ago sent Vespia Neast and a team of 4 to head 8 miles out to the Durcent Province and see if they can fix the problem and resolve it.

According to Vespia, orcish raiders were running wild across the province and the local sheriff had dies some 2 months ago – with his replacement being ineffective as there was a power struggle between the new sheriff appointed and another sheriff who was also appointed a few days later by the Ostlerson portion of the province. This has made the deputizing of locals difficult at best since thoughts are running high that this needs to be resolved but no one wants to stick their neck out too far and potentially piss off the “wrong” sheriff in this matter. So Vespia and her people returned the Celeste and gave her the bad news. A further trip to the Hall of Nobles has shown that the matter is a local matter and the sheriff can handle it – meaning no one from Erylond’s court is going to get involved on a matter that is so far from the seat of power and no one has died – so they’ll just wait for it to be fixed locally.

Celeste had since put up 500 nobles and gone to the GRSAG to have the matter handled by professionals and that’s where we come in. 60 nobles up front and the remaining 440 upon completion which is resolve the issue with the Durcent Province and bring the perpetrators to the problems there to justice. The job called for 5 to complete the mission and besides the reward listed, 10% of ready coin and treasure found is to be given to the GRSAG and the rest is ours to keep.

We signed the paper and decided on Thalin, Barb, Shimlagesh, Brading, and Darius to best handle this mission. Returning to the house we geared up, left the rest of the material with the party still behind and started our walk north up through the Thakian Gate and on the way to the Durcent Province.

We passed other larger farms and holdings as we went, come castles and keeps, and then eventually as we travelled the holdings grew smaller and the places less grand. Eventually we left the trade road to one of the smaller roads heading east and 8 or 9 miles from Erylond later arrived at the Durcent Province. Many of the homes were simple land-crofter’s huts and the land showed signs of being harvested but strangely still incomplete at this time.

The Main center of the province had 5 larger buildings – the Manorhouse, the Smith and Farrier, the Granary, the Temple, and the Tavern and Meetinghouse. There was a village square that was cordoned off as well but at this time of late afternoon was mostly empty. As we came to the Manorhouse was had the opportunity to check in with the Castellan and leave our weapons.

We could see the manorhouse stables and besides a few riding horses and a nag or two, there were almost a dozen shaggy haired stout ponies and two large silverbacked war wolves each with a modified saddle on them. The Castellan let us know that orcs from the Wolf Skull tribe were here and having a heated conversation with Sir Durcent. They had been at the Province for the last 8 days and things have gotten tense. How so?

6 people who worked for the Province have died via poison since the orcs have crossed the border.

Shit.

We were escorted inside the manor house and led outside the meeting room/dining room where we  could see the local lord and maybe 8 of his people sitting around along with a half dozen liveried and armored guards – while almost 20 orcs of considerable size and ferocity were lambasting the lord.

The orcs were screaming that this was traditionally orcish land and they wanted the sovereignty to ride across it at will and to use it as they see fit. Sir Durcent said that those documents were well over a century old and this Durcent Province has been here and established shortly after the fall of the Randari Ympyr. The orcish chief, a huge woman named Glamar, was telling Sir Durcent that as of now no one has gotten hurt but she cannot keep the Wolf Skull Orcs from eventually coming to blows if things don’t change.

Then the poisoning was brought up and the Chief was furious saying that poisoning was HUMAN thing to do and no member of her Clanar would ever poison – if things were to be decided by killing – then it would be with tooth, hand, and weapon. There was a speaker, a thinnish orc, who was being run over verbally by the shouting at the table and then the meeting broke up and we quickly moved to the side while the orcs left.

Barb and Thalin, both capable of understanding the language, heard the Chief Glamar talk to her sub-chief, a male named Fintok in Orcish and although they were trying to be quiet, spoke differently. Apparently they had until the last 2 months great dealings with the Durcent Province and the former Sheriff was a good friend of all. She is not happy with the way things are going and wants it to be resolved in a way that saves her tribe and appeases the new Champions of the tribe.

From here we then had a chance to meet with Sir Durcent who was exhausted over what had happened. Sir Durcent is in his 50’s and has been running the Province without issue for a while. There was a page, a constable, the lord’s ranger and his assistant, the master at arms, the reeve, and finally the untenured Sheriff – Thurbarn Greensward.

We got caught up on the local issue. The former Sheriff, Auganus, had been sheriff for 14 years and had a heart attack about 2 months ago after a one day trip to northern Stivil. His passing was a loss to everyone and his wife, Hula, was gifted their homestead of 2 acres for the remainder of her life as thanks for the Sheriff’s efforts.

Sir Durcent then went to his people and picked one of Auganus’ deputies, Thurbarn, and submitted his name to Erylond for vesting and appointment. There are typically 4 orders of law officers. The constable is in charge with maintaining order and investigating crime in any city/town portion of a locale – answers to the local lord. The Marshall is in charge of any standing army/military/or mustered militia body should one be called – and if there is no Marshall, the Sheriff takes over that duty. The Sheriff is responsible for the law and order of anything that takes place in a bordered province regardless of city/town limit – and answers to the local lord. The Ranger is responsible for maintaining the larger laws of the greater lords – whether it’s by poachers, timberthieves, smugglers, or the like – and their reach is not limited to a province. Inside a Province the Sheriff’s word holds sway, outside the Ranger of King’s Man’s word is law.

Thurbarn was well liked and capable of doing the job – having been a deputy for 4 years already and having a militia background before. A local who was known and liked, his name was presented and sent down to Erylond, knowing it would take 2 weeks to get it through the courts and ratified before it would come back up here.

Apparently another name had been presented by the Ostlerson Province as Sheriff – Fersic Gregson. Fersic is also a local person who was not a deputy, but had spent the last 3 years as caravan guard for the Reetersbeard Caravans and was also liked in his own province. Taller, broader, more handsome, and having 70 odd pounds on Thurbarn – his paperwork had been sent to Erylond 2 days after Thurbarn – presenting an issue.

Thurbarn had until the end of 90 days to show he was capable of doing the job and if so – would be tenured as Sheriff and that’s it. If he had a vote of no confidence, then Fersic would get a shot for 90 days as well – and if HE had a vote of no confidence – the Thurbarn would get ANOTHER 90 days – until one man withdrew their name or someone was ratified.

With the orcish issue though, the province was in turmoil – no one wanted to risk getting ostracized by accepting a deputy position from either acting sheriff until they know who was the better choice. So Thurbarn has been trying to go about this alone.

It hasn’t been good. And it’s not necessarily his fault.

The orcs every fall have their Fall Harvest Festival where for three days they harvest what they want from their summer home and prepare to follow the herds for hunting in the winters followed by feats of strength and other contests. There are three new champions: The High Runner (fastest in the tribe) the Fire Champion (Strongest in the tribe) and the Hunt Master (best hunter in the tribe). These 3 new champions sit on the orcish council for the next year and help dictate policy.

These 3 are rather hot headed and are some of the loudest voices about taking back ancestral land. This has been a bone of contention for a long time – but only recently it’s gotten worse. The former Sheriff was very good at diplomacy and policy and the situation has gotten out of control. The Orcish Speaker is a thin wiry orc called Scrato and many of the people of Durcent Province say he’s been poisoning the people.

What people?

Durcent Province has lost 2 of its 3 deacons, a page, a tradesmaster, the woodward, and the head constable to date. All died from poisoning – the smell of bitter almonds noted along with blistering. The Watcher for the Dead, a man named Curio, presided over all of them.

As for the orcs- the chief is correct – although the orcish toughs and riders have not actually hurt anyone yet – they have spent the better part of 6 or 7 weeks scaring off the villagers from the fields and harvesting meaning things will be tight this year in the Durcent Province since the snows have started to fall and there is still turnips, winter wheat, and potatoes in the fields to be brought in.

The younger orcs have also been taken to a drug called “Scratch” which gives orcs a barbaric high for almost an hour followed by a gentle euphoria. It also makes their prone to violent outbursts and bouts of rage. There is a similar drug, Lion’s Leaf, that until recently was the drug of choice for hunters and warriors of any race – but the orcs have taken to this scratch and the thought is, it’s part of the problem.

There was some thought that it might come from Canaslan, as a Canaslanian peddler was through here some weeks ago trying to sell it.

After getting all this information, Sir Durcent was pretty much exhausted and understand the Wizard Lord Celeste is angry but he cannot get her birch bark harvested until this matter with the rocs is resolved and now all the unexplained poisonings is stretching the Province’s capabilities thin. He did sign his name to the charter we had, giving us more authority to handle the situation from the locals without needing the Sheriff involved.

He gave us a place to stay near the manor house – a crofter’s hut that wasn’t being used, and one of our meals would be comped at the Tavern – rest of it was on us. We went to the house, it was secure and well maintained, dropped off our items, and then went to see Speaker Scrato – the speaker for the Wolf Skull Orc tribe.

Scrato had 2 pages/apprentices – each roughly 14/15 years of age. As barbaric orcs they did have their letters and numbers (a rarity!) and were earnest if simple in their doings. Scrato was … nothing like an orc. Eating a salad, talking with his hands and voice at a higher octave, he was well dressed and clean – also some 80 lbs lighter than typical orcs. Dark hair with an asymmetrical cut hanging over one side of his head, our immediate thought was – wow – this is a guy who can poison people!.

But after talking to him and his pages – and the 4 orcs charged with guarding him – we started to discount that. He was eloquent, honest (seeming!), and forthcoming. He had until this entire mess a good relationship with Sir Durcent and truly missed the old Sheriff. He doesn’t like the new crop of champions and blames Scratch for the recent antagonistic views the younger members of the tribe have taken.

As for who is poisoning? He truly believes it’s the local Ranger, Thog Ranswaller. We had met him briefly with Sir Durcent – a half-orc of mid 30’s age, quiet and not well liked. To Scrato’s way of thinking – with enough of Sir Durcent’s people being killed and their positions not being filled – the Ranger could have more control of the Province and shape it the way he might want and prefer. The people were all poisoned in their homes, and the Ranger a secretive man, can come and go at will and no one would think twice about it.

We left Scrato with more questions and returned to the Tavern to have a drink. While there Darius made his way to the man identified as Fersic Gregson, the alternate sheriff, while the party spent the time with the barkeep, Fant Ralinson – half orcish proprietor whose family has run this place for 4 generations. Most of the beverages were either beer or ale, identified as “left beer”, center ale and right ale – as placement of the barrels behind the bar.

Darius did talk to Fersic who although younger than Thurbarn, was earnest in his want for a better province. He wanted Thurbarn to just forego his tenure and if so, Fersic would hire him as first deputy. Thurbarn apparently feels the same but the other direction. No one is happy with the orc issue and Fersic did admit he had some of them followed for a few days and let Darius know that one of Scrato’s guards was at the scene of each poisoning earlier in the day before it happened. He is convinced Scrato is the poisoner and is playing everyone off against each other.

We eventually got some sleep and in the morning had the chance to sit with Sheriff (acting) Thurbarn. He verified much of what we had learned and had his own thoughts on what was going on. The orcs are a part of the poisoning, but he doesn’t believe they are actually the cause and culprit.

We wanted to go visit the Watcher for the Dead Curio as we were concerned about the old sheriff’s death and the timing of it – and also to see his widow, Hula, and find out what she might be able to reveal to and for us.

Meet 85, Adv 5, 5/26/19

Wow! Missed updating this for a bit.

This was the clean up meeting for the end of adventure 5 and preparation for the summer. The 6th player was not a good for us so we are back to 5, and one of my long term players takes off the summer to ostensibly take care of his home and sundry issues - but never has enough time to actually get caught up. Se after this meeting we'll be at 4 at the table - until I go through the trouble to find a replacement player.

Write up follows:

With the prospect of being in town for a long period of time, the group had approached the Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventuring Guild about finding them a possible house they could rent/lease for some time.

A number of prospects were brought up, but a block of homes on the south section of town not too far from the original Mage’s Ghetto and the trade gate was offered up as a good choice. The neighborhood wasn’t the best or worst, and being close enough (3 blocks) to the local militia station meant the area was patrolled and often even if the quality of the homes were is less than stellar repair.

The house was single story, with a full basement. Access to the well was less than a block, there was a small cordoned off yard and outhouse, and the roof was slate not thatch, which was something less for the party to worry about. No obvious leaks, the doors were square, the shutters in good repair. The main floor had a large living/dining area and a kitchen, and then 6 rooms as well as a pantry/closet. The downstairs had a single larger chamber and then 8 smaller rooms and a 6’x6’ root cellar. No furnishings, the place needed some cleaning and repair, paint and whatnot – but the price was well within our budget and we could move in early – paying for a full season now with the understanding that a month before the lease was up, they’d come to us again to review and then another payment.

We bought brooms and buckets, ran water and spent time cleaning up for a day or two. Most of us had petered about wondering if the local guilds were going to be able to train them, when we decided to look about for furnishing. Dizzy used his contacts that he had made with the local thieves guilds and they turned the party on to a warehouse they had of furnishing that had been repossessed for poor loan repayments in lieu of coin.

The majority of us them spent the rest of the day talking to the warehouse manager and his adjunct where they purchased beds and mattresses and linens and table, lockers, chests, pots, pans, chairs and anything they thought they might need in the near future to make their home better.

The furnishings were delivered the next day and we spent the majority of that day and the following night putting the material away and cleaning up the locale even more.

But we were going to need to find some employment and the GRSAG had been informed that we were looking for a local job that would pay well and be within our wheelhouse of skills. Four of us were going to train (Negan, Merica, Dizzy, and Darius) so for the next 2 weeks, the group was going to haunt all the local crafters and tradesmen and see what work could be rounded up to add some coin to their pockets.

Meet 84, Adv 5, 5/11/19

This pretty much wrapped up the tail ends of the Crackling Terror - introduction for the party to the lands around Erylond and how the Terror Dungeon operates. Xp was light and on purpose, with the group most likely training, realizing what they need to buy and equip on a going forward, and how the future delves should go.

However, for the first time in a long time (like 15-20 years), we had a person at the table that just didn't fit in with the rest of the group and I had to let him go. He was an earnest player who really wanted to fit in, but his play and conversation didn't mesh with the rest of the table. It sucks, but it does happen, and a good DM and Player recognizes this and without rancor or hard feelings, move on - because as we've all known, there will be other games and other tables and other adventures and the sweet spot will come around at another time. He was decent in his acceptance and we both parted as men without problems.

So I am going to NOT look for someone for a few months to give the party a break and just play - maybe July we'll look for the 6th player again although I have been told by a former player that he strongly anticipates returning to us before the year is up - so we shall have to wait and see.

Write up follows:

The Delving group emerged from the Terror Dungeon exhausted and low on hit points and spells, making their way wearily out of the antechamber and through Bork Keep to the Visitor’s Hall. Once there they removed what armor and filthy clothes they had and then made their way to see if Lord Corface Bork would be willing to meet with them. We were granted a short audience with the aged lord and caught the nobleman up with our exploits in the dungeon.

The larger reason for our conversation was to comment on the issue we had spied in our travels. There was a section of the ceiling that showed a crack in it, 60’ below the ground, in which a small but constant single drip of water was coming through and into the place. Since the Dungeon was not able to be entered anywhere else but the one entrance, this made the group concerned that there might be another way in or out.

Pacing estimated the crack to be north of the keep in the fields beyond, and although there were some wells there, nowhere was there a way in. In fact over the last 15 years, samples of digging and driving of long shafts showed no possible way to breach the dungeon itself – except for the place here within the keep. Lord Bork did inform us that there were at least 3 other small defacements to the dungeon that had appeared over the last year: one that had a bit of smoke coming through, one that had a faint movement of air as if from a breeze, and another ceiling crack that smelled faintly of soil and tilled earth.

By 4 we were done, checked in with Percy and Hjalgrim, and decided that on the morrow, Spiritmonth the 11th, we were going to have out walk back at long last to Erylond.

As for the Surface grouping, when they left Bork Keep on Spiritmonth the 8th, it was with Avulstein, Darius, Barb, Thalin, Merica, and Shim – with the necromancer keeping up a long litany of his anger at the situation, and his constant harping that going into the dungeon was foolhardy and stupid and we shouldn’t do it. What gain? Where is it? We’ve been bleeding health and equipment left and right with nothing to show for it except possibly dying at an inopportune time.

He was rude and condescending to most everyone save Thalin and Barb. The jibes were going back and forth and it was getting heated until at one point he was isolated and hit with a sleep spell while near Thalin (who was immune to it) and knocked out. Picking the half-orc up, we walked with him some time slung across Barb’s shoulders while Darius and Shim had a long conversation with Salarahadra about the fire mephit and her current ties to Avulstein.

She was not happy and wanted Avulstein to change his ways back to the way he used to be some months ago or get out of the bonding between the two of them. After the necromancer woke up, befuddled as to why he fell asleep and accepting of the fact that he was exhausted and worn out from being so emotionally charged, we continued on our way, the conversation not picked up again until we were near the walls of Erylond. Avulstein announced that he was going back to Sorton to train under Speaker for the Dead Payrlis and was contemplating what would occur after that.

We wanted him to reconsider, there is the Arcane Academy here AND 6 different Wizard Towers not to mention other untowered wizards who might want someone to apprentice under them. He was belligerent and suggested strongly we do the same. In the interest of keeping the peace we let the conversation linger and agreed to getting a room at the Flying Pegasus and discussing it tomorrow.

Once in the town we let Avulstein go while we took a circuitous route away from him and around the city to get to the Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventuring Guild. Once there we had audience with Pha-iyr Carom and presented him with the signed Letter of Credit from King Seljack. We discussed with the elven fixer what had happened, why we were delayed, and Seljack’s demeanor during the exchanges we had with him.

We did touch upon the issue that the “blow up” in the warehouse was possibly a plant and executed by one of Seljack’s people for the purpose of embarrassing the GRSAG, getting them to pay Seljack a large stipend (which we did), and more importantly – show a bit of strength and back and forth between the GRSAG and Canaslan’s newly formed adventuring group. In further discussion Pha-iyr conceded there was no clear path to winning for him no matter what tack he tried, and any solution would give King Seljack some sort of leg up over him.

We discussed sleeping here in the common room, and what the cost of a flat would be or a house that the GRSAG might own somewhere in Erylond. We were informed of a place on the south end of town that would most likely suffice for us – and at 45 nobles for the month rent – seemed cheap enough all things considered.

We opted to stay here tonight, avoiding the Flying Pegasus and Avulstein, and just relaxing after a week plus of back and forth non-stop frantic moving. At the end of our conversation Pha-iyr did want to know what our thoughts were concerning Peris and how he performed for the party. The group was…mixed. The grey elven wizard has been difficult to meld with the group and many times his statements and action were seen as grating and at odds with what we would have expected of the potential applicant. We decided to hold off on our final decision until the Delving Group returned from the Dungeon and gave a field report on his last actions down there and with them.

We rested and the next day, split up with Thalin standing online outside the Adventuring Guild to possibly buy some healing potions from Nythil, and the rest of the group heading to Julian the Sage to get some information from him. We learned a few things – Nythil’s potions always heal the same amount every time they are drunk and he was ANXIOUS to sell a case of TWENTY to Thalin for only 150 nobles. Excuse me?

Turns out they were addictive – and if hurt – you would want to drink one to feel better. The first case is really cheap – but after that the price does go up.

Ugh.

And Julian shared some information with the group about possibly a silvered steel weapon – and they can be found in the Terror Dungeon behind one of the Glyph Gates near Entrance 1 – and it has something to do with Lathandar, the elven god of the dawn and champion against undead. Nice – we want to do that.

He was a bit secretive and had locked up his house and on conversation learned that he was visited by an Ambassador from Emberia and Lord Emberwine who was searching for some relic and Siggurd’s father had been mentioned. Julian realized the being was a powerful psychic and got some information out of the sage before his own personal defenses and ward had kicked in and protected him from further prying. Since then he’s been keeping himself ensconced in his home for now and avoiding outside meetings if at all possible.

Meet 83, Adv 5, 5/4/19

The party finished up the "Chime" part of the Glyph Gates which will allow them to no longer worry about the 8 hour limit before the exits move - and should let them explore a bit away from the local rooms near the exits. There are 20 Glyph Gates in the Dungeon and some are common, others less so, and a few rare. They all require different material to open them and once opened, a smaller side dungeon and quest and reward is there.

Write up follows:

Looking into the chamber not one person in the group wanted to actually step in. Created from a dozen or so bipedal creatures all melted together, the figure was a piteous mess of moans and sobs. The smell was rank and it was sitting in a slurry mess of its own waste product. The cancerous wooden lump upon its combined backs and skulls was the zebrawood we would need to “harvest” and hack away – and it would require stepping in and getting close and personal with the beast.

The biggest relief was that the size of the beast made it impossible to step out of the room since the door, sizeable at 8’ by 4’, was still too small for it to navigate through. We tossed bits of food, some of it soaked in blood, and the figure at the offerings disgustingly and with obvious relish. Threats with a spear had it cover away, the beast moving in a wave of barely conflicting flesh. At one point we even managed to see it devour part of its own anatomy, sucking the flesh off its fingers in an orgiastic display of contentment.

We went through our options and the best bet was to have Dizzy and Negan alternate the summoning of creatures and hope we could get one that was capable of wielding one of Brading’s axes to do the job. We ended up with a kobold first, clad in leathers and seeming to be an engineer of so sort. With the axe in his hand he went in and began to hack at the beast.

The chimera sobbed and wailed and cried piteously. Each axe blow cause fresh blood to run down the carbuncle and even though the kobold was making good progress, as it was finishing up the second part of its cuts, it began to cry and sob, moan and wail. It staggered out of the room and curled up into a fetal position, begging not to go back in. We sent it in and it failed to finish the job, dropping its axe and lying on the ground in misery. Gryg stepped in to get the axe and the psychic miasma was almost too much for the dwarf who started to weep as well.

Connal then stepped in and dragged Gryg out before he was affected, the axe coming with them and the kobold was dismissed. Taking stock of the situation the cutting need to be finished and we would need another creature, hopefully one that wouldn’t be as mentally affected by the chimera’s cries. Another summoning occurred and this time – a clad skeleton appeared! Practically perfect!!

Giving the skeleton the axe, we sent it into the room and it had zero compunction in hacking the rest of the zebrawood out of the chimera’s back. Coming out it handed it to us and then, we sent it BACK in to get another chunk! It succeeded a second time and then the chimera finally reared up and tried to smother/absorb the skeleton. We had it toss the wood and axe to us, gathered them up, and then dismissed the creature, letting the door close.

Following the gnomes advice, we loaded the zebrawood into the machine, clamping it place. There was another clunk and the stones on the far wall fell off. The newest stone showed an “R” to go along with the C, A, V, and E we already had. The gnomes were pointing to the north wall and saying, “Per…Fec…Sea…”

A quick look of the letters gave us Carve, so after getting the hint “Cut”, we placed the letters and the last secret door opened. The smell of flowers and fresh earth came out. There was a hall area covered with increasing dirt and loam and wines until it opened to a larger room 30’x 20’ where lots of plants filled the floor and walls. There were firefly looking creatures flitting about slowly – at least a dozen, definitely more. And it seemed like a few pedestals barely a foot and a half tall were on the floor.

Bit by bit we looked around with light stones and tossing food. The fireflies ignored the light but did take what food we tossed in, dragging them slowly through the air and out of sight. Getting closer down the hall but NOT into the room (none of the fireflies ever made it into the hall even once) we could tell they were inch and a half tall naked male and female fairies, each of them illuminating light from their skin. All we heard were strange tinkling when they would get close and they did not seemingly reply to anything we said.

On the pedestals, five we could see, were bells – each of them of differing sizes, composed of brass and with zebrawood handles. We wanted to get a better look at the bells and Connal and Peris both entered with shields at the ready. But the fairies drew closer and eventually got close enough to sit on their ear – and this close, the two adventurers could actually understand them! One was Rose, the other Chrysanthemum, and they wanted the group to pick up the bells and ring the perfect “C”.

We looked under the two closest bells and one had a “3” on the underside, the other had a “4”. A look around the room at this point showed 2 other pedestals buried in the foliage also with bells. So we had 7 of them, which was the right one?

According to the fairies, the right one would have them all be fantastically happy and cause the birth of NEW fairies – the wrong one would drive them all deranged and they would whip around the room in a frenzy of flying burning bodies and some would die. Which is the right one? They don’t know – but they know it when they hear it.

We were leaning towards the 3rd bell since there were 7 musical notes, but we wanted the perfect C and what if they were octaves instead of notes? The only hint we had was the bells were VERY dissimilar in size so the party thought it was octaves instead. Which meant the 4th bell would be the Perfect C – the one in the middle. The gnomes weren’t looking for C, but Perfect C.

So with great care Connal lifted the 4th one and rang it. And it was correct. The room grew with new life and more flowers, the fairies all whipped around in graceful loops and song, and from some of the pods, 4 more fairies were born and were greeted to the room! We left the chamber with the right bell, the fairies remaining behind, and the door closed.

From there we added the bell to the tray and there was more clunks and the stones fell from the wall. The gnomes were now saying “Ack..Tih..Vate.” again and again, pointing at the north wall. Looking at the base of the machine, two more letter stones appeared and “A” and an “I”. We had C, A, R, V, and E already and we were stuck on the word until we touched the machine and the gnomes added the hint “Want” to their repetitions.

AVARICE.

With the letters placed on the wall, the room vented and cooled off a bit and the machine trundled and twisted and ground until there was a series of chiming noises and we had a wire wrapped wound set of chimes on a zebrawood handle that upon taking, had a faint flash of reddish light and we were back in the hall right outside the room of the Glyph Gate. Awesome!

We had Brading give us a guess of 2:30 as to the time (almost 3 hours so far down here) and we decided we were going to go back to the steps and out of the dungeon. Sybil and Dizzy were on point and as we came close enough to the south passage, our two scouts stopped the party and backed us up quick. At the extreme limit of their infravision range, they saw two almost 9’ tall heat sources down the hall. They think they moved back fast enough to avoid being seen but we have a problem – if the party tries to get to the south passage, they WILL be within infravision range of the assumed ogres.

We needed a distraction.

So once again, we summoned a monster and this time a giant rat appeared. Negan gave it explicit instructions to RUN at the Ogres and then if possible, KEEP running. The rat took off and within a few moments we heard excited calls in Ogrish as they tried to hit the rat, missed, and then ran after it giving chase.

Our chance and now.

We booked around the corner and kept going. Sybil thought at the side passage leading to the trashed furnishing room before the portcullis she saw the heat signature outline of a Grue but our approach and torches scared it off. We kept going, getting closer, and closer – close enough to see the portcullis was down.

And 4 goblins armed with light crossbows were on the other side, lying prone, and unloaded on a surprise round on the party. Sybil was missed, Dizzy fell, Peris fell, and the rest of the group was struggling to get out of the way. While they were shooting, the goblins were crying and shouting in their language, “Here! Here! They are here!!”

Crap.

As they launched more bolts at the party, withering more hit points and knocking hit points south, Gryg and Sybil tried to return fire with their own missile weapons, mostly ineffective as the goblins were lying prone and the bars were providing cover. We crept forward trying to close but with the gate down, whoever was going to work the chain was sitting duck.

And then we heard the Ogrish voices from behind us echoing back in our direction as the diversion we did earlier had apparently played out.

And then whipping around the corner came two goblin warriors clad in heavy armor and spinning battle axes into the group. Sybil, Connal, and Dizzy were at the front line as this combat was spiraling out of control. And then the Halfling let us know that MORE goblins and the FUCKING GRUE, with a bag tied to it head, were coming towards us from the furnishing room.

Negan called out for more summoned monsters and shot off THREE giant rats back down the passage to head off the Ogres and slow them down. Magic missiles stabbed out and weaved through the bars burning one of the goblins while missile fire took another. Connal was at the bars knocking aside bolts and trying to stab the goblins who were just outside of range. Brading shot off more healing and the group was trying to get a handle on the combat before the Grue was in the fight.

Peris used his scroll of Summon Monsters and got a hobgoblin…clad in platemail and shield, sporting a wickedly sharp long sword. Directing the militant warrior INTO the furnishing room it assaulted the two goblins their leading the Grue and cut the ropes dragging the blinded creature forward. No longer being guided the Grue sat down and tilted its head.

We needed the damned gate open NOW so Negan charged forward and hit the gates full force. The squealed under his impact and he bent low and LIFTED the 420 lb metal gate straight up WITHOUT the use of the chains, just about 6’ off the ground, arms quivering as he dared to stand in place.

The way clear we all tried coming down the hall, battle axes flailing, sling bolts flying, voices raised and screaming. Negan felt a pop and let us know we had only two giant rats left holding the ogres back. The prone goblins were unable to rise up in time and were dispatched quickly while the hobgoblin spun wildly about and slashed the bag OFF the Grue’s face.

Who went wild from the light and SMASHED one goblin, killing it, and then turning SMASHED another goblin, killing it…before running off into the gloom. Negan lifted the gate HIGHER, and pulled himself under it while he felt another distant pop, we were down to one giant rat slowing the ogre’s down. Peris called for the hobgoblin to RUN and it whistled around the corner and joined the rest of the group just in time for Negan to let the portcullis fall behind him and crash to the ground in a shrill clanking boom.

No longer delaying, we ran for our lives as the goblins and Ogres (last rat popped away!) were giving chase. We hit the stairs and climbed up swiftly, Peris letting the hobgoblin return, and emerged at 2:55 PM back out of the Terror Dungeon and safely once again up top and out of danger.

Meet 82, Adv 5, 4/27/19

Once out of the Terror Dungeon we made our way back to the Visitor’s Hall where Hjalgrim was given a chance to rest. His mortal wounding during the fight meant he was out of action for at least a solid day and should avoid travel as well. The group all agreed it was a good idea and we crashed for the night by 10 PM.

The next day, Spiritmonth the 10th, we awoke early and discussed our options for the rainy day. We were NOT going to travel back to Erylond for now as it was a long trip at this point and Hjalgrim needed the rest, so our earliest departure date would be the 11th. Instead we went back to the map Darius had been crafting and looked at it in depth. There was some information about heading to get the Chime somewhere near Entrance Two, and we knew which corridor we had to travel down to get to the correct Glyph Gate.

We decided that just before 12 when the entrances would shift correctly in our favor again, we would head into the Terror Dungeon and find the gate, getting the Chime if possible. Since Hjalgrim was out of the possibility of entering and Percy was going to administer to him, Brading offered to come with us so we would have a full complement of people to enter and explore.

It was Marketday and even though it was raining, Lord Corface Bork always allowed 4 hours of trading and bartering between 8 and 12 for those who came to sell their wares. We wanted the chance to get some more oil and before all that, Gryg and Negan needed their armor fixed and maybe some new shields as well.

We spent almost 2 and a half hours getting the scale and studded leather armor repaired, bought some clothes, oil, new shields, replacement weapons, and other needed supplies before we would chance another trip into the Dungeon. The fixed armor wasn’t new by any sense of the matter, but it was less likely to fall apart during combat especially since we knew Ogres were close to the area we were heading into.

It was 11:45 when the group of us returned to the Terror Dungeon and descended to the gloomy depths. The smells were foul and the room we were in was the same we had seen before – 4 obvious ways out of the chamber, two of them with archways of stone – one appearing to be a Ogre’s mouth, the other looking like a series of swords and daggers.

With 2 torches lit, Sybil went to look over the western of the two northern exits – the one with the Ogre’s Mouth carving. The archway of stone was just that – mere stone and the paint had been applied in the past and thick, giving it that monstrous look. Beyond it the hallway had painting on both sides showing some larger creatures eating smaller creatures but the paintings had been faded and chipped over time.

We proceeded with care until we arrived at a portcullis in the down position, braced about a foot and a half off the floor by a pair of heavy stones. Beyond it there was a side corridor to the right and the main passage continued north unabated. The chains ran on both sides of the portcullis and could be used to lift and lower the very heavy gate (we estimated a couple hundred pounds) but the amount of wear and rust also let us know to do so would risk making too much noise.

So we discussed options for a bit and decided on Brading hitting the area with a silence spell, the party lifting the gate, Connal chaining it in place, and Sybil inching ahead past the limit of the spell and seeing if she could hear anything else in the distance.

The plan worked without issue and Sybil did note that the side corridor to the east led to some chamber with some broken furnishings in it and BEYOND that, the distant sounds of Ogrish voices.

All together again, we made our way with care and silence beyond the side passage and further for another 20 or so paces until the passage “T’d” to the east and west, just past an area where dripping water was filling slowly from a crack in the ceiling and staining the floor of the dungeon.

At the “T”, to the right was gloom and darkness and somewhere beyond all that, a lone slow-burn torch. To the left the passage went off for 40 odd feet and ended at a doorway. We discussed it and decided the Glyph Gate might be to the left and went in that direction.

Our estimation was correct. There was a door here, 8’ tall, 4’ wide. Atop the lintel was an oversized red glassine gem with 4 pairs of “radiant lines” chiseled next to it and then with some writing around it, and the middle of the door (which had no handles or knobs) had a raised section where numerous hand and finger prints marred its surface. The writing (in whatever language the reader felt comfortable with) read “The Eddas Major Count of High Ones, Less Frigga’s Doomed Blessed Son. Composed of zincs and composed of coppers, Forges horns and bits and stoppers.”

We spent some time mulling it over and decided it meant 11…Brass…Bits. So most of us went back to the “T” and around the corner, Gryg and Sybil watching both passages, while Connal withdrew 11 Brass Bits, held it up to the Glyph gem near the lintel and pressed the worn section in the middle of the door.

The gem glowed bright and a ripple passed through the air as the radiant lines flashed white – and the bits in Connal’s hand faded away – and then the ripple shot down the hall as the radiant lines each grew brighter until it hit the corner where the party was and went past – but enough of the rippling distortion hit Sybil and Gryg, and all their brass bits in their pouch faded away as well.

BUT – the door opened and we all came down the hall quickly and made our way through while the gem seemed to be losing brightness from the top down in a steady pace – we guessed a count of 100 and then it would go out. Once everyone was inside the room beyond the glyph gate the light did indeed fade and the door shut. There was a handle to open it from this end so we assumed we weren’t trapped in here.

The room was huge, 50 by 30, dominated by a large brass and clockwork machine some 7’ tall, 30’ long and 8’ wide. A series of oversized chimes were firmly mounted to the center of the machine, the chimes being 6’ in height. There were broken bits of swords and daggers, spikes, and chewed up rocks as if someone in the past had tried to stop the gears in the machine from turning – the machine was currently dormant but had many open places and pinch points that a person no prepared could accidentally lose a finger or limb in the machine.

At the base of the machine on the east side were 3 large stone blocks, 2’x 3’, each with a carved letter emblazoned on the front: C, E, and A. The south side of the machine had 3 different apertures – the leftmost one had a spindle where wire would be wrapped around the center post and fed into the machine. The next had a pair of clamps that would hold something in place; currently the clamps had wood splinters only along the edges. And the last aperture had a receiving plate where something would be placed but was currently empty.

Finally on the south wall were 4 5’ tall clockwork looking gnomes composed of brass and other metals, faint light glowing from within them and some heat emanating as well. There were scrapes on the floor near their feet letting us know they did move at some point but for now were dormant.

No other doors in or out of the room. We decided to not fuck with the machine or gnomes at this time and after giving the place a once over, looked carefully for secret doors. And our search paid off as we could find THREE different exits from this chamber, one on the east wall, two on the west. But no amount of pushing, prodding, or anything had them budge.

So we went back to the machine and gingerly touched it. And all 4 gnomes become noisy and animated and stepped away from the wall. They pointed to the left most aperture and said in unison “Brass. Why. Her.” And then repeated it. The group mulled it over and deduced it was “Brass wire”. But we had none.

However on the north wall, a trough of stone had opened in the wall about 3’ off the ground, 10’ long. A trough big enough to lay something against it. The group went back to the stone tablets and sure enough, we could stack all 3 of them in place here against the wall like tiles. The thought was to try and match the cadence of the gnomes speech pattern and the party laid them out C, then A, and then E.

The gnomes all vented heat and steam with made the chamber warmer and a bit more moist for now. Then repeated themselves from earlier “Brass Wire” but this time added the words, “First Rate” right after.

With no venting in the room, the steam and heat had nowhere to go so we knew we could only made a small number of mistakes before the chamber grew too warm for us to work in. Looking at the letters we decided to change the order of them to A, C, E – Ace – something first rate.

And our guess was correct. The door all the way on the eastern wall opened up revealing the chamber beyond. Just on the inside of the door was the remains of a humanoid and a large chest; everything had been well chewed and splintered, leaving nothing of value behind. Past that the chamber was 20’ square with a molten pool in the center of the room of brass. An extrusion hand wheel was positioned around the pool, close enough to be hot and skim the top of the pool. A trough would lead the molten yet cooling metal down to a waiting spindle that would rotate and spiral up as the wheel circled the pool. It would take a slow, dexterous, and steady hand to operate this.

However, there was also a 400# clockwork mastiff in the corner with smoke and steam coming from its many orifices, watching the party. We discussed our options and came up with a working plan. Gryg and Sybil would be on sling and crossbow duties, Negan was going to hold the door open with his body. Dizzy and Brading were on spell duties for either healing or whatnot, and it would be Connal walking the wheel and extrusion machine around – with everyone watching the mastiff to see if it did ANYTHING.

It took a bit of doing before he realized how slow he had to walk before the brass wire cooled properly to firm up and adhere to the spiraling spindle. The Mastiff watched him as he walked SLOWLY around the pool and the wire amassed on the spindle. It was at the end of his 2nd circle when we had about 60’ of wire that the Mastiff began to growl and steam was venting from its opened mouth. He stopped and the molten metal separated the wire from the spindle. He picked it up carefully and watching the mastiff, walked out of the room and the door was closed behind.

Going to the machine at the first section of the receptacles was a similar spindle and the 4 gnomes were pointing at it. So he placed the coil of brass on the spindle and it whirred to life and a piece of it fed into the machine and then we heard a CLUNK. Dropping out of the east side of the machine was another stone tablet – this one with the letter “V” on it. As soon as we noted it, the trough on the north wall slid into the stone, dropping the other three tablets there, before popping back out, this time about 11’ wide.

Sybil noted that the A, C, E, and V all spelt Cave so we touched the machine again and the gnomes all pointed at the north wall and said, “Wood…Han…Dell.”

Wood Handle. Got it. A 2nd touch and placing of a single stone had them repeat the next step and this time add “Hollow” to their litany. Good job Sybil, Cave made sense.

We added the tablets to the wall until Cave was spelt and there was a crackling of stone and the secret door on the west wall opened. It was a larger room and the reek of rotting growth was strong. We peered in to see an oversized creature perhaps 10’ around like a melting chimera of dozens of types of beings moaning and sobbing. A carbuncle of wooden growth was on its back, patterned zebrawood, that showed numerous hacks and chunks had been carved out of it. But the piteous figure on the floor flailed its seemingly useless limbs about and cried with almost identifiable words through it dozens of ragged, twisted mouths.

And the gnomes pointed into the room and repeated, “Wood…Han…Dell.”

Great.

Meet 81, Adv 5, 4/13/19

The group had a very successful trip back into the dungeon this go round. Focus driven - slime room and leave. There was LOTS of real world figuring it out and I had them up from the table for almost 20 minutes showing me EXACTLY what they were doing.

So it's a win, but they are again loosing more than gaining - no treasure, material and items being used up, armor and weapons breaking down - and right now no treasure yet to replenish what they are spending. They need a longer trip in and that is the focus of their next foray - to get the Brass Chime to summon the steps no matter what time of day.

Write up follows:

It was 7:35 when we arrived at the Entrance to the Terror Dungeon where we were met with the chronicler Kara and the 2 guards. We made sure our name was entered and was assured that another adventuring group, Fishers and Farmers, had gone in earlier today and by our estimation were at Entrance 2.

After the doors were opened we went down with care, Dizzy and Sybil in the front, Connal and Hjalgrim following, then Peris and Percy, and finally Negan and Gryg taking up the rear. At the main entrance room we could see the slowburn torch on the eat wall was getting low and we heard NO noises from any of the doors. We went back over the map Darius had given us and were aiming for a storage room past the hall with the floating table in it where supposedly the slime in question was located.

We proceeded with care, Gryg once again propping up lengths of wood on the doors behind us to hopefully alert us of anyone’s presence following. When we arrived at the room with the zombies, bodies, and couches, it was obvious that something had happened here as the door was blocked by a large dead body with many blunt force marks about its head. Beyond and further into the room more bodies were strewn about.

We went in with care, Dizzy calling on Sif to assure him that no undead barred our way. Of the 16 odd bodies in here, more than half were dragged off the couches and left upon the floor. The vermin in the room were loud but gave us a wide berth. We continued past, Percy lighting a candle with Tyr’s light and in due time, made our way further into the Dungeon.

The short hall with the slowburn torch was next and then eventually the room with the floating table. We slowed down here and looked around the corner. Where once there had been a single ogre keeping guard, now there was nothing. Sybil thought she heard the door at the far end of the hallway close and that spurred the group on to press on.

At the door to the trophy room, Dizzy and Sybil let the group know the door was not trapped – but was LOCKED and from the inside! Listening revealed only faint breathing and nothing else. In wait? For us? Sybil, Dizzy, Connal and Hjalgrim made their way further down the hall, Peris and Percy staying near the corner, and Negan and Gryg remaining in the room with the floating table for now.

Peris cast a “stick” spell on an arrow and placed that on the door to the trophy room, a last ditch chance to alert us should something try to come out. At the end of the hall Dizzy listened and could hear fair shuffling beyond. He took a rope and tied it from that door back 16’ down the hall to another door handle, effectively stopping both doors from opening. As for the room with the slime, with slow measured care, Connal shifted that door about ¼ open and we were able to see. It was 20’x20’, and there was a line of salt on the floor past the swing of the door from wall to wall, blocking off the entrance corner of the chamber. Lumpy greenish slime shot through with sickly red veins was affixed on the floors, lower walls, and stone shelves of the room.

If Sybil drew too close to the slime, it seemed to rise out of itself and send fingers slowly questing towards her before retracting if she moved away. Taking her allotment of salt, she reached further into the room and drew a second longer arcing line of salt, cordoning off more of the entrance section from the slime.

From there, she drew out her metal tongs and a glass flask. Using a few drops of pig’s blood in the vial as a lure, she placed it near the slime, stretching into the room while Connal stood behind her ready to pull her back if need be. The slime stretch out towards the vial and then entered. When she had a small amount within, she turned her tongs, rolling the slime over the metal and spinning off a small section from the larger amount. Her tongs were beginning to smoke and she pulled the vial back until it was between both of the salt lines. She then turned the tongs over entirely and placed the vial on the floor mouth end down, hoping it would trap the slime within.

Instead it spilled out slowly and made a puddle on the floor about 8’ in diameter. Her tongs no longer useful, she tossed them into the room and the group then thought about how they were going to lay Hjalgrim backwards into the slime puddle.

Upon further thinking it through, they realized it would bring them TOO close to the larger slimes inside the room which were agitated by our presence. Connal tried tossing salt at it and it seemed to make the slime grow frenetic as tendril shot out violently almost 3’ before the slime seemed to slough a bit off the wall and then try to climb the surface again.

At this point a new plan was hatched. Taking one of the older K’Morat javelins, Connal dripped some pig’s blood on it and then dipped it into the slime on the floor while Percy helped Hjalgrim remove his armor, gambeson, and underwear to reveal the “Crackling” afflicted area. As the slime was growing on the javelin he brought it close to Hjalgrim’s back and PUSHED. The pain was terrible and Hjalgrim arced in agony as the slime hit the Crackled area, spread out, and was absorbed – turning to speckled dust.

His back? Still afflicted but less.

Peris moved closer to the group and now realizing they were too far back, Negan and Gryg moved up to the corner near the closed trophy room and watched alternately the party and Hjalgrim and the hall they had come from.

Reintroducing more pig’s blood to the javelin Connal carefully gathered another larger dosing of slime from the puddle on the floor. He did note that a large patch (some 3’ around) had broken off from the rest of the slime in the room and was crawling up the wall at a tangential angle, bypassing the salt on the floor and oozing slowly towards the hallway. Problem for later.

The second dosing of slime was brought to Hjalgrim and PUSHED again. And AGAIN the dwarven cavalier bucked in pain but the slime MOSTLY turned to dust, his skin flaked off to normal, and then it was over! With slime on his back, Percy shoved the lit torch against it, burning the patch away and singing the dwarf a bit – but the Crackling was now gone. Some healing was cast, taking care of the most obvious wounds followed up by a folded length of bandage wrapped about the cavalier’s midsection.

Hjalgrim was just…touched. He was so thankful to the group and appreciative that everyone felt just a bit better.

And it was at this point that Negan and Gryg both realized that there was an odd click or something coming from the hall they had come from…and the light from the candles was now gone. Plus, the smell of rotten eggs was growing stronger and the two of them were suddenly unsure. Gryg looked forward, creeping up and saw two ogre sized shield bearing figures coming closer from the opposite hall of the table room.

Company, and now. As the dwarven ranger came back, the half-ogre cleric called on Odin to produce flame in his hand. A ball of fire the size of a volleyball appeared in his palm and began to spark blue fire and he whipped it away and deep into the room.

And the dungeon seemed to implode. Air rushed TOWARDS the room and then LIT, and then a concussive blast raced AWAY from the room along with a wall of fire. At the last moment Negan slammed his large shield down between Gryg and the fire, hugging the dwarf close and the wall of fire hit the corner and blew the two of them off their feet and back. The shield absorbed most of the blow, crackling apart and raining burning brands everywhere while his armor snapped upon impact and caught flame.

The fire continued down, most of its impetus stolen but it was still enough to drop Peris on his ass and burn the form of the elven sorcerer. As the group was trying to figure out what was going on, from the table room we heard an Ogrish voice shout out, “GET THEM!” followed by pounding feet. From the trophy room, the door tore open and two ogres each with 14# mattocks strode into the hallway and laid into Negan who was still on the floor and struggling to his feet. Gryg fired his crossbow and Sybil let bullet fly. Percy and Hjalgrim quickly started relacing the chainmail hauberk back in place while Dizzy tried to get down the hall to heal Negan as the Half-ogre finally rose to his feet and met clubs with great sword.

From around the corner we could see the upended floating table being used as a barrier as the ogres behind it maneuvered it into the hall and prepared to rush down. Peris let fly two magic missiles and Connal enticed a large swath of Slime onto his javelin by literally stabbing himself in the leg and then shoving it at the wall patch of slime.

Negan took another smash to the head and Gryg dodged blows from the furious ogre while more sling bullets and magic missiles when flying. Dizzy managed to get a much needed heal on Negan who was staggering down to single digit hit points and then we heard voices at the END of the hall trying to rip open the door that we had tied shut!

Connal charged down the hall and told the group to DUCK and everyone did, including the ogre Negan was fighting, and the green slime coated javelin flew out and slammed point first into the table being used as a barrier – transferring slime to it!

Hjalgrim finally dressed charged down the hall spear and shield at the ready and took front line with Negan. The cavalier plied weapons hard on the ogre already weakened by bullets and bolts, driving his spear up under its ribcage after 30 solid seconds of furious combat, killing the monstrous foe. Bless spells hit the party and our blows fell with more accuracy as we struggled.

With the ogre line slipping down one and Negan doing terrible damage to the other one, the three ogres in the back, one dropped the table on its face (burying the slime beneath it) and with its own two handed sword, two more of them marched forward to do battle while the last lifted its crossbow and fired, shooting into our tightly packed group. The last poorly armed ogre fell as the battle line closed to the two armored ones and the fight was a chaotic mess. From the closed door behind us we could hear goblin voices chanting, dozens and dozens of them as the door thrashed and bounced and the rope began to fray

Gryg lost a shot at one point, driving it into Hjalgrim’s back, mortally wounding the cavalier who redoubled his efforts against the ogre before him. Negan was once again horribly wounded and was beginning to bleed terribly as his hit point total plummeted. Using the rest of Connal’s rope we went back to the roped off door and tied a second length again between the two doors, giving us another precious handful of minutes.

Another ogre died and the one with the crossbow shot into our ranks as the table in front of him grew softer, and eventually succumbed to the slime which was consuming it – and then the dead ogres on the floor around it! Deciding it was time to leave, he turned and ran back around the corner while more magic missiles and sling bullets helped finish off the last ogre.

Hjalgrim was staggering, Negan had perhaps 1/10th of his health, goblin horde was breaking into the door at the hall’s end, and there was now a 12’ swath of green slime on the floor between us and the way out. Connal took Gryg’s hammer axe and smashed the green slime door down, pulling it away and bringing it to Negan who took aim and threw it into the middle of the 13’ puddle of slime. We then tossed two of our folded up bedrolls on top of the lime and using the entire thing like a bridge, the entire group ran and jumped their way across the mess until we arrived at the other side and then dodged into the trophy room. A well places ray of frost rolled the slime away from us as we ran in and then shut the door behind us.

Percy and Dizzy managed to pull the bolt out of Hjalgrim’s back and get him a healing. The cavalier was going to power through it but he was mortally wounded and would need some rest when this was all over. More healing was dispensed on Negan and the rest of the party and we took stock of our situation.

We didn’t want to stay. At all.

So after 5 minutes we cracked open the door and then ignoring the now 16’ puddle of slime in the hall and the door at the end of the hall the goblins were forcing open, we made a run for it, charging out of the room and back towards the now burned out room where the table once was. No ogre was here but we kept going. At the zombie room we could hear suddenly MUCH louder goblin voices in the hall behind us, indicative that they had forced the door open. We moved double time into the hall, through the zombie chamber, and then down the long hall.

We paused briefly at the door to the entrance room and once sure it was not filled with ANYONE, we made our way to the stairs and up fast until was arrived at the top and at 9:33 on Spiritmonth the 9th, emerged back out of the Terror Dungeon and safely once more in Bork Keep.

Meet 80, Adv 5, 4/6/19

The group spent this meeting following the clues which had them running back to Erylond and then again to Paxian and finally Bork Keep. The "solution" involves going into the Terror Dungeon and gives the party an opportunity to adjust the makeup accordingly and try the delve again. Their mission is focused on a particular locale and destination and then leave - but that remains to be seen if it'll be the play of it.

Write up follows:

It took us a few minutes to ready ourselves for the trip back to Erylond from Paxian, the bad news about Hjalgrim weighing heavily on the cavalier’s mind. The decision was to go back to the Wizard-Lord Shandrila, present her with the stoneware jug, and then ask her if she know of the Freyleaf Astringent and possibly a way to ameliorate its effects.

We decided that we would force march our way westward, trusting to the night, our strength of arms, and the purpose of our trip to keep us safe. We left Paxian through the main gate, passed through Slopover, and then made our way to the main Trade road where we espied one of King Seljack’s mounted knights sleeping on the side of the muddy roadbed using his horse’s stomach as a pillow.

By a quarter after 6 we were out of Canaslan and moving at a ground eating lope westward. This late in the day we say few travelers until almost 8 when a 3 cart caravan coming our direction on its way to Canaslan reported the road behind them was clear all the way to Erylond save for a Thorpe to the north of the road where some villagers were have a local festival. We both passed without issue and by quarter to 10, passed the merriment making village as we had expected.

We trouped on, growing more and more tired and weary as we travelled, the miles passing behind us until we eventually saw the lights of Eylond in the distance and we arrived at the East Gate by 11:15. The guards passed us in and we stayed along the main road along southwall until we managed to come to the Mages’ District on the east end of town. We went to the Tower of Winds, expecting to leave message that we’d like audience in the morning when we were informed that Wizard-Lord Shandrila is currently up and often stays awake for days at a time. Yes, she would see us now.

We dropped weapons and were made welcome once again at her study on the third floor where Shandrila met with us. We gave her the jug, she checked the seal, checked the contents, and declared herself happy with the matter. She asked as to Thimbles and his wares and then we turned to Hjalgrim and his affliction on his back. She looked it over and gave Hjalgrim a pitying look.

The “Crackling” is indeed fatal – faster is a multiple or concentrated dosage does get upon one’s skin. Freyleaf is not grown anywhere near here, instead it appears in an area between here and Asgard referred to as Freystag – a sort of pocket garden where the lord of nature grows wondrous things and tries them out to see if they can be incorporated here in Midgard. Freyleaf is harvested there (often without Lord Frey’s knowledge or consent) and then it is rendered down, dried, pulverized, and reconstituted under exacting parameters to become the Astringent – the entire process taking the better part of a half year.

As for cures, there is none – its job is to dry out spores, molds, slimes, and fungi – anything without a skin. We asked about gelatinous creatures and she said to a lesser degree – gelatinous creatures such as cubes have a membranous skin and is not the best. She did suggest that if a slime or ooze of sufficient mobility and virulence were placed upon the Crackling area, it should be enough to cease its spread and end the affliction – but this was educated conjecture at best.

Does she have any slime, or do we know anyone who does? The long answer? No, that sort of stuff is highly dangerous and typically needs a dark wet area to grow and thrive. A few crazy people in the past have tried to transport and sell it but the damage done was astronomical and 11 of the nearest 15 cities have such types of slimes and oozes declared as illegal to have, own, buy, or sell.

We thanked her and left, heading north to the Livestock district where we took a pair of room at workman’s tavern called the “Fox and Hen.” Ok, Does Thimbles have green slime? Trip back to Paxian. Terror Dungeon? Maybe it’s there, that’s a day to the east. The group remembered seeing some at a lake near the Base Camp in the Moratian Mountain passed Sorton – 6 SOLID days to the west. And no guarantee it was still there.

According to Shandrila, it was maybe 4 or 5 days of spreading Crackling as it works its way further across the person’s skin and then 5 or 6 days of terrible agony and it continues to consume them outside and works its way deeper into their body and then death. Hjalgrim thanked the group for their efforts and we decided to send some aviaries out tomorrow. One to Thimbles in Paxian to see if he had any and green slime and if so, get it ready for us. One to Connal @ Bork Keep and ask him to let us know if the group had found any green slime and where to go and get it – reply to us in Paxian if need be. And Hjalgrim wanted one to be sent back to Sorton to the Temple of Tyr there – because he was under the impression according to his vision at the time of his knighting that he had a “purpose” and was not supposed to be this close to death. The entire situation had shaken the cavalier and he was much more tractable and understanding to the group.

We slept and Dizzy might have gone out to ask his contact at the Stinky Cat if they had any avenues on where to get green slime from before coming back and the group getting to sleep. We decided not to eat hear and instead went further south to a restaurant called “Salted Toys” where we ate our full and were back on the road by 9ish going east to Paxian. Hjalgrim had sent off the 3 avians earlier and we hoped to arrive in Canaslan with some good news waiting.

It wasn’t.

He had none on hand and only a small number in the time in the past had he ever had an opportunity to get some. Of all the adventuring groups, only the Unseen Hand, run by a dwarf named Walt Grimbeard, ever had the green slime to sell, and it was a few small vials that he transported in enchanted glassware to withstand blows. How much? Thimbles had paid at one point as much as 20 crowns for a vial but its only if he has a market and buyer for it because it’s terribly dangerous to store and transport and illegal as hell.

Hjalgrim helped pay for Thimbles to write to Walt in Erylond (we assumed) if he would know WHERE to find green slime in the Terror Dungeon and if so, forward that info to the group there as soon as possible.

We then pressed on to Bork Keep – arriving there just after 8 PM that night. We got to meeting from the outriders, informed of what was required of us, and then met with the locals in the Keep and directed to the Visitor Halls where we saw our companions were actually in the Terror Dungeon at this time. We looked into the aviary where we received OUR note addressed to Connal and Thalin…wrote a missive to Pha-iyr Carom that we DID have King Seljack’s signature on the Letters of Credit and we got sidetracked in order to help a hurt companion.

We had an opportunity to then meet with Lord Corface Bork, learn about the group’s efforts so far, and then rested.

It was Spiritmonth the 9th in the morning when the Vanguards of Ragnarok were all together again. We all shared our experiences over the last 4 or 5 days with each other. The decision was that half the party head back to Erylond with the two Letters of Credit and the other half go into the Terror Dungeon armed with Darius’ map in order to find the room we suspected had the green slime in it. Avulstein was belligerent and commented often that he had survived death twice and for now was NOT going back into that fucking hellhole. He had some nasty words with Dizzy and Hjalgrim who called him out for not paying him back for the cavalier laying out HIS share of the Terror Dungeon Amulet.

We decided that Hjalgrim, Percy, Negan, Sybil, Gryg, Peris, Dizzy, and Connal would be going back into the Terror Dungeon for the third time after 7:30 this evening to take care of Hjalgrim’s back. We made some purchases, moved some equipment around, and after resting the day and adjusting our spells, were ready to go to the Terror Dungeon again.

Meet 79, Adv 5, 3/30/19

The original write up for this portion of the adventure was to have a random person in the party have the planted vial placed upon them. However, we've had some shifting at the table and the player running Hjalgrim is away from our group for the time being. I am not sure what his long term viability for the taciturn dwarven cavalier was to be, but I found him to be grating to the rest of the group. So since I have taken him for now as quasi-NPC/DM's character, having him be the recipient of the Crackling seemed best as it gives me a chance to role play a serious character change into his story - ie: he is GOING to die.

Something that he has been strangely unaware of until this day.

Write up follows:

We decided to stick around the Black District a bit longer and then made our way back to the Bawdy Wench Tavern. Once there Dizzy made a brief contact with the local guild personages there to get some information on King Seljack and Barb took a more prosaic approach and hit up the bartender with a hefty bribe.

Between the two of them they got some information and we discussed their findings. When King Seljack got the Sovereign Stone there were two other hirelings in the party – an assassin woman who joined him as his King’s Thief and personal bodyguard (we met her standing behind the king at the meeting today) and a wizard of some skill who was struck and cursed with a permanent invisibility. He’s taken to becoming King Seljack’s fixer and spymaster – but he has become strange over time and taken to not wearing clothes, personally spying on those he needs to instead of relying on spells.

He can become visible but only when he polymorphs himself into something else.

The Fox and the Henhouse is directly owned by King Seljack and the wizard has the place under surveillance should need be. The Bawdy Wench pays a stipend to King Seljack based upon volume of business and the king’s wizard tends to shy away from scrying unless need be. Just to be safe, we bounced from the 2nd floor to the 3rd, taking a room there. And we also learned that the wizard can easier scry on someone if he has a small token, personal, to them.

So we sat and ate and surreptitiously checked everyone over to see if anything was missing. It was later in the dinner that Thalin and Shim both noticed that one of Percy’s beard fetishes was missing a charm – something small and personal to him. Thalin escorted him upstairs to the 3rd floor where there seemed to be a serious number of plants in the hall – 2 on the right hall, 2 on the left, and 3 by the stairs. The majority of the plants were fichus, but the three by the steps were a transplanted juniper bush and 2 other smaller white dusted ground plants.

After getting Percy in the room, Thalin fired off a light spell on a coin wandered by the plants, gave it a piercing look, and then dropped the coin by the plant before walking away. When he turned back the juniper plant was gone and the window at the end of the hall had opened and someone was out there excited about his luck at finding a glowing magic coin.

Closing the door he informed Percy of the missing fetish and the dwarven priest was worried. Was he part of the King now watching the group? Should he stay behind? The thought was to be honest in our dealings and not give the King any reason to be concerned about us or our doings.

Meanwhile down in the Common Room, a guy came in with his friends, clutching a red glowing copper common and declaring it was a lucky magic coin and he needed to play darts again with that guy who beat him last week – triple stakes. The party left the Common Room and made their way upstairs where we saw two small white dusted ground clearance plants in pots outside our room.

As we were entering, Barb got pissy and moved the plant, pinching one of the leaves real hard to break it. The plant suddenly yowled in her hand, and BIT her, turning into a large tabby cat who then clawed the hell out of the barbarian before running down the hall and leaping out the window. The 2nd plant did the same, another cat. Inside the room Percy felt horrible for the cause of this and healed Barb of her injuries while we discussed the invisible wizard and then eventually fell asleep.

We awoke on the next day the 7th, knowing we were checking out today, where we were going to walk around town for a bit before meeting King Seljack for lunch @ 12. While touring the western ends of town, near a series of malters, we were stopped by a group of 5 green clad elven folk who were doing surveys. They were representative from Greenmourning, and the Emerald Queen Nylwire and they were wondering about the beers we had drunk and what flavors we liked. Greenmourning was looking to set up trade with Canaslan but wanted to send only what the people would want to drink and taste – not what the vendors were willing to purchase.

We answered as best as we could and then made our way to Castle Whitehall. The King had a meal set up for us and we ate and talked for a while, discussing our past adventures, killing kobolds, and things we had done and seen in our past. Eventually he decided the group was well meaning enough and wanted to have a better relation with Erylond and Pha-iyr Carom so signed off on the two letters of Credit and returned one to the party to take back to Erylond. We left on good terms and decided to head off to the Black District and get our required delivery package from Thimbles and the Canaslan Export Company.

There were 4 larger style companies in the district and Thimble’s organization seemed to be about the same as the others. He had 9 people working the warehouse and about a dozen shopping the wares. We went back to an office in the rear of the building where a human with leather pants and sword was waiting but Thimbles had him sit down and express this was all ok. As we were entering, it was noted that 2 people left the selling floor after watching our party, and headed out the door.

He is an acquirer and is always in the market for anything interesting that comes out of the Terror Dungeon or other places that he can turn a profit on. King Seljack has an intense hatred from below the board smuggling and thievery – as long as it’s known and he can get a piece of the action, he’s ok with the operations. The blood of the crested dracomen was in a stoneware jug, corked, covered, and wax sealed. We took property of it, signed off on the manifest that we had done so and then asked him to keep it here. He refused saying it was not his job but agreed to warehouse it for 30 bits until tomorrow.

We left, pushing our way through the crowded selling floor and eventually back to the open air. We went to the Bawdy Wench and was going to stay one more day, leaving on the morning. Arranging a room we went to the Common Room and ate a hearty lunch, listening to the minstrels ply the crowd. It was closer to 3:30/4 ish when there was some drunken brawl going on behind us. Barb thought she recognized one of the guys when he was shoved hard and hit Hjalgrim, bowling the cavalier forward.

He had his arm pressed tight against Hjalgrim’s back, partially inside the backpack and seemed to be fumbling about. As the group got up and it was about to get ugly, the man’s companion gave him a full on body check, smashing him into Hjalgrim’s back and then he pulled away, grimacing in pain and holding his hand cradled to his chest as the two of them made a mad dash for the exit.

We were going to follow when Hjalgrim started complaining about his back hurting and we quickly took a look. Something was broken in his backpack, the back of his backpack was dried and cracked looking, and his shirt was damp. We went up to the room and took a look. There was a spot on his back about 5” in diameter that looked like dried cracked flakey skin, the flesh below was angry and red. He was complaining that it hurt and a fast Cure spell fired into him..but nothing happened to the wound – it stayed.

We also tried a restoration, again no difference. Whatever happened, something broken against his back OR inside his backpack and the other guy was responsible for it. But why? We looked through his back pack and although a few things looked messed up, it was all still there. However, there was a broken small vial/ampule in there, the label affixed to broken glass read “Freyleaf Astringent”.

No one knew what that was and the back of the label showed that it came from the Canaslan Export company – Thimbles organization. Maybe he would know what was going on? As for Hjalgrim, we even tried putting on a layer of bear grease but it only caused the cracked looking skin to spread, giving the cavalier a bit more pain for his efforts.

It was almost 5 when we came back to the Black District and Thimbles business where we found his people pointing and shouting at each other and Thimbles angrily telling the group ,”no refunds – you paid for a full day.” He didn’t have much time to talk to the group, seems someone robbed his place earlier today and his staff were frantically pointing fingers.

Shit.

We asked if it was Freyleaf Astringent and he grew cold, telling us to come in and tell him everything. Turns out the Astringent was stolen earlier today, around the time we were in the shop. The belief was one of the “shoppers” planted it in one of our backpacks “Hjalgrim” with the assumption they would retrieve it later far from the Black District. During the altercation at the Bawdy Wench it broke and covered the thief’s hand and Hjalgrim’s back through the pack.

It is used to rapidly dry the flesh of various oozes, slimes, and molds in the preparation of crafting components and inks. And it is expensive – that little ampule was 900 nobles, money that Thimbles was out. He did know it was not supposed to get on anyone’s skin ever and if it does happen, the person will die in horrible agony in about 2 weeks – nothing to be done for it.

Hjalgrim asked, “So, I’m going to die?!” Yep – nothing for it. And you’re going to die in agonizing pain.

The group was stunned. Surely SOMEONE knew something that could be done? Thimbles didn’t know anyone but suggested the party try Erylond as they might have some luck there.

So we took the jug of blood and decided to brave the 7 to 8 hour trek to Erylond now, leaving Paxian @ 5:30 and won’t arrive back @ Erylond until maybe 2 in the morning.