Meet 2, Adv 8, 11/13/2021

The party was pretty happy to be back at the table. The thought was that we'd be tossing 20's and punching stuff in the face, as one player said, "I just expected less dead kids for our first adventure back." I reminded them that we had a few one shots with D20's flying and some raw combat tossed about already. This was the return to the campaign and giving them their first step back into the world as well as whatever world building was needed to get them started.

Follows:

The group sat around the eatery talking about possible plans on how to check out the Sunrise Rabbits Orphanage. Many were tossed around but they ended up with one of our member acting like they wanted a tour of the place and possibly to make a donation; while Shimlagesh, invisible, would wander the place and hope to find the child, Shala. Darius was the best choice and he already had some wardrobe in place to do so. We were hoping to have a few others go with him, Thalin acting as his manservant and Eoghan going as his guard. Tidra and Vulwulf would make sure to be elsewhere and would instead hope to see what was opposite the wall from the Orphanage, as Sybil had mentioned that she and some of the kids had gotten through the wall at one point.

We had some shopping to do and we were in the right section of town to do so. First we went and visited Strandings Clothiers where we met with Goodwife Standing and arranged to get a shirt for Thalin, a sash (of the same green color) for Eoghan, and a pair of high slippers (also same color) for Shim. Prices were bandied about but it was a rush job that we wanted on the morrow, so the spend of 9 gold, 1 silver, 3 silver, and 2 silver were all accounted for. At the hatters Darius arranged to purchase a 2 crown hat; stylish and yet still commanding. Vulfulf did not get the stovepipe hat that he was assured would be perfect for him.

A detour followed to the Storm Raven’s Fighter’s guild where Darius spoke at length with High Clerk Advild about the steps needed for him to become a knight. He would have to start as an armiger and then work his way up slowly over time. But the process starts with a letter of intent and some noble patrons to add their voice concerning his character.

We returned to the house and talked about what we had been doing, getting some more info from Sybil (who was having a hard time finding her voice at first! Acidic little Halfling!) and her interactions. The Taskmaster’s name was Hisvild and she reported that he was a cruel and ghoulish sort of figure – but not actually a ghoul.

Vulwulf had checked out the area on the opposite side of the Orphanages, learning that it was the Open Market, also known as the Bazaar. He walked it carefully, looking around, checking back by the walls. At some point to avoid interest,  he stopped at the sand merchant and felt the need to buy 2 and a half lbs of coarse virgin sand. He then wandered around and purchased a number of poor and rotting food stuffs from merchants that were shutting down, pissing off another half orc named Gjulleif who was hoping to get enough to eat. Vulwulf felt bad and suggest the half-orc come to his home that night, about 8 PM.

It was sure enough later when Gjulleif showed and we listened to his tale of woe on the street, Vulwulf had purified the poor food and gave him some. We also outfitted him with some clothes and made sure that he got his original foodstuffs back. He thanked us long for the efforts made and when he left, the druid felt pretty good that he had made a good contact for the group with his efforts.

We rested and on the morrow, cold and cloudy, arranged to gather up our purchases. Then Thalin went first to the Sunrise Rabbit’s and arranged a tour at 1 PM with a possible donation to follow. Then to throw off any doubt, went next door and did the same, the Practical that came out was an attractive younger woman named Jori, and she accepted a visit for a few hours later.

Just before we were going to the place, a few spells had been cast (Endure elements on Darius and Shim, then Pass without a Trace, and Snowshoes. Followed by Invisibility on our gnome) and the group set off, leaving Grin with Vulwulf and Tidra, the two half orcs were going to the Bazaar, the area on the opposite side of the wall from the Orphanage.

We were met by a dwarven tough who identified himself as a “Practical” and said his name was Stavern Shephard. He allowed us to enter (Shim invisible and following close). There was more symbology of the Rabbits and an older saying was still visible over the entrance, “There is Always Another Dawn.”

We came to the Waiting room after hanging our cloaks up where we met a prim woman named Findy Ilcinder. She was here to see the Taskmaster Hisvild about some issues. She spoke well of the Orphanage, and some of the others nearby. Turns out she was a representative from a Lord Hoggar from Grymeria and she makes a trip out here every few months to see if the orphanages have any children that have passed on.

Eoghan had his fists balled up so tight, his palms were on the verge of bleeding.

Some small talk followed but Darius did most of the chatting and she was met with Taskmaster Hisvild, who had the look that Sybil had mentioned. They walked off to the north to go to the Hospital wing, and Shim followed along, eyes peeled and moving quietly. The rest of us were disturbed by it all but eventually we met the Headmaster; a half elf named Ghalen Artek. And he was nothing like the Taskmaster. Genial, kind, welcoming, he took Darius and the other two on a tour of the Orphanage, talking about the Sunrise Rabbits and the other Orphanages in the area a bit.

Former temples, the Randari Ympyr was more accepting of other religions and races. This temple was originally to Lathandar, also known as the Morning Lord. God of the dawn, new life, and a warm spot for the young, his symbol was the rabbit and was a fairly well respected god. We were in the Chapel, repurposed to Frigga, original stained glass long gone, but what was left was in good repair if not old.

After the burning of Erylond, many of the temples had laid fallow, but there had been stipends set up by the original patriarchs and curates. So there was still some funds stocked away to keep the place in fuel and taxes paid, but it was rough out there and the orphanages relied on support from Patrons in Erylond and further afield as well. Anything that could be given would be appreciated. There was accommodations for about 100 or so kids, but the Sunrise Rabbits had rarely ever had more that 80 odd at a given time. Currently it was about half full with mid 40’s.

Some kids are dropped off at the doors, others found by guards, some are the results of families that had died. All are loved, brought in, fed, clothed, and taught the basics to get them by in life. There were programs with various guilds that would take the kids when they came of age, getting them into programs and teaching them a skill they could apprentice to. And yes, sometimes families would come and look for children to replace those that had died in their own homes.

The kids we saw were healthy and happy(ish), working in the classroom. We did note that at least half were half-orc…and there were no dwarvish children. Who didn’t fit the racial makeup of Erylond, but for now we didn’t comment on it. He took us around the place, eventually seeing the Dorms upstairs and the nursery, before coming back around and down to an office to wrap up our talk.

Meanwhile Shimlagesh had followed Hisvild and Findy to the Hospital wing where 7 kids were currently – 5 with benign injuries, and 2 with something else. One had fallen down some stairs a few times, spiral fracture, and then the leg had gone gangrenous and had to be removed at the shin. The other was pox ridden and barely breathing. The gnome watched (invisibly) and with growing disdain as it was discussed saving time and money to finish off the worst of the two. Findy took out a travel case and used a blue potion, a few drops, to cure the diseased limb of its gangrene, and sped along the healing of the stump. That child would live. The other though, for the payment of 150 nobles, she used a different potion on the child’s lips…and it took a last breath and died.

WTF?

He then followed them as another Practical (also a dwarf) arranged to have the body brought to the cellar with the others. They went to it, and Shim followed along. Eventually coming to a set of stairs going down. Two doors at the bottom, and it was Taskmaster’s Hisvild’s keyring that had the correct key to open at least one of the two doors (the Practicals had their own keys, but they were larger and most likely for bigger locks like on the front doors, gates, and the like).

It was a storeroom, but there were 5 bodies down here in the cool. Findy checked them all out and agreed on the price of 175 nobles for each one. That was 875 nobles for 5 dead orphans, but another 150 for the one they just finished off. Making it over 1,000 nobles for this macabre situation! The other door was closed and locked and Shim followed them up and out. It was also obvious that Findy and Hisvild had some sort of date planned for later.

Findy was heading off to the Blue Flowers and hoped to see Darius there. She bid the Headmaster farewell and left. The group made more small talk and eventually did the same. But at the last moment, Shim decided to stay behind and not go with the others, following the Practical back inside and waiting for the dwarf to leave before he was going to figure out where to go and where to find Shala.

As for the rest of us, as we were heading to the Blue Flowers, we all felt that the Headmaster might not be in the entire loop of everything the Taskmaster and maybe the Practicals were doing. Also, the deal with Grymeria was less than 2 years old at this time. We had some answers, and more questions, and we hoped that Shim would have some luck on solving them for us.

Meet 1, Adv 8, 11/6/2021

Blessed Frigga! It had been 20 months plus since we had the chance to be back at the table and play the campaign. I advanced time in game some 6 to 8 weeks and pulled them out of the Terror Dungeon and brought them to Erylond. With one of the players no longer here and a new player in place, I had 3 threads for the campaign bustling about - so I picked one of them and fed some power to it, came up with this 8-10 meeting adventure, and sent the party out on it. Gives them a chance to remember their characters, fill their lives again, and reengage with the world that has been waiting for their return.

Follows:

Somewhere lost in time, the party had found themselves in the Terror Dungeon, trapped between two main halls, an unknown foe wandering down a passage. The group discussed their predicament and decided that they had achieved what they needed, they had gotten the Magic Cup from the Runegate, dealt with Decron and the Bandersnatch, it was time to leave.

So they worked their way up out of the dungeon and then slept the night in Bork Keep. The following day had them fill their skins and take the 2 day trip back to Erylond, stopping briefly in Paxian, in the Stolen Kingdom of Canaslan, for a brew and a bed. By this time, there were more days with snow than not, and the group as a whole decided that heading back to the Terror Dungeon during the winter months was a bad idea.

But that led the party to discuss options for now. Most shops wanted a journeyman level personage to work there, and the group not only did not have any journeyman badges, but had no interest in apprenticing themselves to a master, tradeguild, or merchanthouse for a 2, 4, or even 6 year indenture. Because of this, they were able to get work, but at menial rates of pay…a few coppers at best. We had a crate of food stuffs arrive about once a week from Durcent province, thanks and appreciation from the Lordship and Sheriff there for work done, so we would not be starving. But the group was not making any money, and anything beyond subsistence meant that the party was losing cash.

We also had some adjustments in the group. Barb had grown weary of the fight and struggle, especially after the recent foray into the Terror Dungeon. She had made up with her father and brother and felt the call of Famyr pulling her back to Sorton. So for the next season, two maybe, she planned on heading west before the snows got too deep and reconnecting with her family and tribe once more. Not wanting the party to be without a competent fighter, she introduced us to her sparring partner, a half-orc warrior named Tidra. For about a week we all worked together and found Tidra to be a competent warrior and a good fit for us, so we felt well equipped to handle whatever situation might come our way, having a small farewell party for Barb.

The next number of weeks moved on; the snows grew deeper, the days colder, the work more numbing. Some visitors from the Canaslan Adventuring Bands would come to town and we caught them strutting their way around the Flying Pegasus or attending a night of song and revelry at the Erylond College of Performing Arts. With travel retarded, many locals had taken to asking the local Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventuring Guild for help in whatever matters were important for the locals. Missing animals, helping a sick family, raising barns, harvesting fields, and other tasks. Some were taken immediately, others we hoped to get the chance to do.

It was around the 15th of Icemonth, 3 solid weeks past the official start of winter but 5 or 6 weeks of snow on the ground, when a 6 count of us decided that going to work for 2 hots and a common or two was just not going to happen today. It was early enough, so Thalin, Vulwulf, Shimlagesh, Tidra, Darius, and Eoghan donned boots and cloaks and made their way north through the busy streets of Erylond, on their way to the Adventuring Guild to see if there was anything they could do.

On arrival they met the two Half-Ogre gate guards, were waved in, and then walked around the Fountain Chamber and the Stairway of Trophies. Hibuela Asalin, the Guild’s Esquire, lawyer, and notary, met the party and talked to them for a bit. There was a job that had come in and she was hoping that we could help out the nice family who needed the guild’s aid. She led us to the Facilitator’s office, Pha-iyr Carom and then continued on her way, cracking gum and swishing ponytail as she walked off. “Don’t let her appearance fool you,” Darius warned the group, “I hear she's rather good with a blade.”

“Yes, my friends,” Thalin agreed. “In the dark!”

The half-elf rose to meet up, ushering us into his office. As always, the desk was laden with folders and papers, bundles and scrolls spilling off to the floor. Pha-iyr was an attractive fellow, ready smile and twinkling eye. After some chit and chat, got right to the point. A Finn and Darca Planters had their youngest child, a daughter of 4 named Shala, disappear 3 days ago right outside their home. No one had seen anything and the child was with the mother and other children. The watch had been contacted but the Planters were growing concerned that time was passing and contracted the Guild to get someone to help. They put up 83 commons as a reward and the guild as usual matched the number. In addition, there was an additional 20 commons added to the reward from Pha-iyr himself, bringing the payoff to find the child and return her home to 186 common. Thalin was already looking to sign off on the job and we took it, getting a stamped letter of conduct that would allow us to deal with the watch and look for the child without crossing into any illegal lines.

We left and were going to visit the Planters when Darius suggested we head to the local tavern and get something warm to drink as well as something to eat. He spent some money on mulled ale and hot cider, getting some sausage and honey bread as well. We then went to the neighborhood, coming to the home in question. It was a 3 story affair, a different family living on each floor. Finn (half orc) and Darca (human) met us at the door and were happy that we were there. They had 3 other children (all older) who we met briefly.

3 days ago the family and the ones upstairs had gone outside to throw snowballs in the street and have a good time, Darca and the other mother watching, when there was a crump and a large swath of snow had fallen from the eaves above. The entire group of 8 were looking the snow over and it was maybe 2 minutes tops when Darca realized Shala was missing.

A search revealed nothing and the watch was summoned. The case was being handled by a Watchcorporal Mercer and he thought there was some tracks in the snow, but they ended up not showing anything. The tracks were not Shala’s and could not be confirmed by the Planters. Vulwulf had requested a pot of water and was spending some time studying over it, performing a divination. Eoghan wanted something personal of Shala’s to use to help Grin possibly track the lost child.

The half-orc druid did try to zero in on the child but was growing weary as the reflecting pool spell was fighting against him in an effort to scry on someone he’s never seen. But he did get lucky, nose bleed and all, and the party and Planters were able to see the young quarter orcish child in a dark room, on the hearth by an industrial looking chimney, wearing a set of silver wrist cuffs or manacles, having a rabbit symbol on them. Shim quickly drew the rabbit and we left, the Planters having hope on learning that their daughter was alive and somewhere lost for now.

Once outside, we searched the local area, finding nothing obvious. Eoghan had Grin sniff the doll we had been given and then try to track to the east in the direction of the wall we had been told the Watchcorporal had thought the tracks went. The mound of snow there was 9’ tall, the wall over 40’. Burrows had been dug in the snow but the local kids and we looked in and around, but saw no sign of Shala. Darius was stomping in the snow, kicking and digging down a bit.

He came upon a sewer grate where the melt and runoff had cavitated under the harder packed snow, leaving a hollow. We dug it out and the sewer grate was held on by 2 “L” pins, easily pulled out. This would allow the grate to lift, 2’ x 3’. We could look down; rungs went down 5’ to the sewer pipe below, most likely 4’ diameter. Right now though it had swiftly moving water filling it to roughly 2/3rds full, so it was nothing the party wanted to risk navigating. However, from the direction, it did run from the east under the wall.

We discussed a situation that Sybil had run into in the bazaar with street urchins from an orphanage in the 2nd Ring of the city. They were being poorly treated and abused by the taskmaster, and it something to do with rabbits. Perhaps this was the same place? And if a person, invisible?, did kidnap a child, a nice secret way to the 2nd ring would be a benefit in spiriting the child away swiftly and away from any watch issues.

Thalin was concerned that other children might be taken as well and we should learn a pattern if that was the case. The Watch for this section of the city was not too far from here in the entertainment district. Eoghan and Darius were going to go and talk to Watchcorporal Mercer and the rest of the group would keep their distance for now.

The few watchmen outside the watch were disinterested in help or conversation, giving the two men a less than happy feel for this. However we did get in and met with the Watchcorporal, a chatty half orc. We showed him our paper and we commented that the stamp was very nice (could he even read?) and then we talked about the Planters’ child. His feel was the child was abducted and they are looking for her during their normal watch. Other children had also disappeared in the area over the last 5 weeks. And he suspects that the next two watches, north and south of here, also had some missing children. Taken? Seemed to be orcish or half-orcish kids. Darius buttered him up and made him feel good about what they were doing and we left with Mercer willing to share with us anything he comes across and we do the same for him.

We met up and shared what we learned. The thought was then for some of us to go on to the other side of the wall into the 2nd Ring and look around on that side for a sewer grate, hoping to pick up the trail there. Two of us should go to the next watch and see if the story checked out and other kids were missing. Since it was a more orcish section of town, Tidra and Vulwulf were opted to go and talk to the watch while the rest of us go and find the sewer. And we meet up on the other side.

So we split up at the queue to the 2nd ring and the party were met with some nice guards, reminding them that curfew was 9 PM and they had to be out by then. Reminder to keep weapon’s sheathed and good luck. From there we through the wall and into the 2nd ring. Streets were nicer, homes bigger, guild halls, temples, cathedrals, libraries, parks and the like. We travelled north and kept looking at the walls hoping to find the right area that would match up with the Planter’s neighborhood. Eoghan and Darius were pretty confident they were in the right spot and were looking around the residential area.

A few dwarven icemelters were working the streets here and Darius went into his “nice guy who has a lot of money” routine, getting the icemelters to warm up to him (lol) and eventually (he implied that he was part of the inspection crew for the interior and public works) they let him know that “yes! There was once sewer grate where the pins had rusted away.” They led the group to it, and if you didn’t know where to look, might have never seen it. It was in a cul-de-sac in the heart of the residential section. The pins had rusted away and the grate was propped partially open by a bit of shifted street cobble.

We wished the dwarves well, thanked them (paid them off too) and after they were gone, Eoghan and Grin tracked the area, the wolf catching the faint scent of Shala; and pulling the party slowly out of the area and to the south. They walked along, eyes peeled for any chimney that looked like the one from Vulwulf’s pool.

As for the two half-orcs, the watch here were more diligent and they were introduced to WatchSergeant Valad, a half-ogre who was painstakingly writing a report when they came to visit. He could read the charter they presented to him and they talked about the 5 kids missing. 3 orcish descended children, 1 human, and 1 dwarf. All over 6 weeks. It wasn’t outright said, but the WatchSergeant was convinced the kids were still in the city and might be in the abandoned slum section along the south walls. They thanked him and left, heading for the second ring. The guards there were less kind to the two party members, were curt, and suspicious of them, and told them they had to be out by 7 – after wanting to know EXACTLY where they were going. Vulwulf gave some story about the fighter’s guild and they were let in – but walked east after noting the guards were watching them.

The Guard and the Watch were not associated with one another – the Guard answered to the Council of Lords and ostensibly worked for the Duke. Their charge was to keep the walls manned and keep the peace should need be. The Watch was the local constabulary, and answered to the People’s Council. Think of them as a mix of public supported vigilism and low order police work.

The two friends walked east, noting that as they walked along, the south area was a mass of former and unused massive temple grounds that had been parceled out and carved off. Making a number of orphanages. And it was the 4th one that had the symbol of a rabbit on the front iron gates, named the “Sunrise Rabbits” Orphanage. They checked it over but there was no easy way to get and no way to get around, barring ringing the front gate. So they retired across the street to the park where they sat on a bench and waited a bit, watching the place and trying to think about what to do.

The rest of the group was making their way along, coming to the south section of the ring, Grim still following the scent. They two parties spied each other and we reconnected, sharing what we had learned. There was a food merchant at the east end of the park so we went over there to discuss what our next plan was and how we were going to execute it. It was Icemonth the 15th, 2:30 PM at this point.

Eoghan One Shot Post Report - Meet 2

And the second one. when I wrote it, I had no idea if the party, or any of them, would manage to survive. Dungeon is a bit stacked against them and no real healing (a few potions here and there, not nearly enough). Plus when any door out is opened, it allows the Grues to come in (there are 2 of them, mated pair). So I truly did not know if there was actually a survivor that knew what exactly happened to Eoghan's wife and child.

Happy that we have one, and the least pre-supposing of them all! Very cool. And for those who wonder about the stats for my Grue's (those who played Zork in the day...) they are:

Grue: AC: 15, HD: 4+3, HP: 35, Att @ +6(/+6), Dam: 2d6+3, Morale: 11 / 6 in Light, Speed: 30', Skills: Listen +10, Move Silent +10, Hide +10, Jump +10, Climb +10. Special: In pure darkness, Grues can get a second attack. They have superior Infravision and can see 120' in the dark. They also have Tremorsense to 60' as well and can feel movements. Standing a bit over 9 and a half feet tall, they are covered with thick dark wiry hair all over their bodies and weigh in at over 1,250 lbs.

Follows:

Closing the secret door, we listened to the two doors on the north hall, Jesse commenting that the western one had some faint goblinoid voices behind it, and Starhawk letting the group know the easterly one was silent. There was the comment that he had some melted ears and might not have heard correctly, so Jesse and he swapped and listened to the opposite doors. And this time neither person heard anything.

Right.

The group decided to open the easterly door first and avoid any problem with more goblins. A look inside showed that it was at one point a chapel to Frigga based upon the older painting on the wall. Most of the accoutrements had been pilfered but the main altar was still there. There was a statue of an orcish looking muscular person, but the head had been removed, and a misshapen round black marble looking stone was in its place. A bed had been set up near the altar and there were 4 pews still in here.

Deimos, Liam, and Rona opted to go in and look around. Rona really wanted the stone. Not the statue, just the stone head. Liam was looking over the pews, and Deimos was flipping the bed…and revealed a dead Halfling. Ew. It had been rotting for a few weeks now, putrefying here. It was also evident that someone had cut its throat. While they were looking it over, Rona managed to get the stone free and showed it to Jesse – the two of them exclaiming, “Stone Bros.”

It was pointed out they were girls and Stone Sisters might be more appropriate.

Whatever treasure the Halfling had had been cut free. So Deimos then jammed his trident into its chest and “scooped” it up, letting the juices run free and making it easier(?) for Liam to check it out. As usual though, the Half-orc barbarian got to joking around and bounced the Halfling a bit, treating it like a marionette. A rotted 3 week dead marionette. The boots fell off, one with the foot still inside. An inside pocket was discovered there, so Liam dumped out the…foot and…the juices, before going to open the pocket within. Deimos slipped up though and dropped the rotting Halfling on Liam’s back before offering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was me!” and scooping it back up.

Inside the boot was a long wooden pipe and a packet of halfling’s weed – the scent of which had Jesse lift her head and look around with interest.

We left the room and then decided we were going to try the goblin room. Opening the secret door, Deimos trident stabbed a dead goblin within and told Jesse, “Talk like a goblin!” after we had opened the door and he shoved the marionetted greenskin within. The goblin’s within didn’t buy it, and a fight occurred. The goblin on the stick was hit, saving one attack for the rest of us, but there were 3 other goblins there. Crossbow bolts were fired and the one on the stair was hit. Deimos, Hawk, and Rona were the heavy front hitters, taking the fight to the goblins. One tried to escape but a hastily thrown sword, and then axe, finished it up.

Once the fight was done, we could see two orcs were here. They were badly hurt (down to 1 hp each), crippled, and thirsty and hungry. We got them up and they identified themselves as Artor and Dermus of Clan Thorfeld. They were captured maybe 3 days ago here but the goblins and their hobgoblin boss, a nasty fellow named Billy Discourage. Normally this is a good place for wandering orcs to hide out in when travelling at night, but goblins have never been here before. Seems they were hunting something big at night, assumption was that it was a wendigo.

We asked them if they wanted to come with us, but in their current shape, they opted to stay here for now. They moved to the chapel and braced the door from the other side, hoping to make it to morning. Deimos moved the dead into the secret room and we all drew up again, moving to the stairs and heading up.

We climbed, lantern held high, and looked at the main room on the 2nd floor. Originally an office, there were 2 roll top desks, long unused, and chairs on the west wall, and a large sturdy 2 seater bench on the south wall. A door was east, a door south, and 2 doors on the west wall (one at the north and south ends of that wall), fleshed out the chamber. Liam and Starhawk checked out the desks. Hawk looked at the north west door, Jesse the east door…and Deimos drew out his weapon and proceeded to beat the ever loving crap out of the bench.

Lovely.

The rolltop desks were not locked but were water logged and swelled over time, so might make noise when opened. Liam was looking at Deimos smashing the bench with his Morningstar and muttering, “I’ll risk it.” The desk was hard to open, but Liam got a part of it opened, and then forced it the rest of the way up with a clattering rattle. At some point a sandwich had been in here, but it had partially rotten before mummifying, and a cloud of fungal spores blew out, settling around the thief. Who spent the rest of the night and adventure, coughing, snotting, and clearing his throat (-1 on all rolls). Deimos tired himself out and conceded that the bench was not “going to break, so we can all feel safe to sit on it.” Good job, man!

Jesse faintly heard some goblin voices far from the eastern door, but nothing nearby. From the western door on the south, we smelled some pungent urine. And from the north west door, Hawk found the cleaning closet. He took the feather duster immediately, and there was a scramble for the bucket as well. We opted to open the second desk, Deimos doing the honors with trident and lots of rattling and banging. Inside was a silver flask with a swallow of aged whiskey, a carved turtle with a reverse design on the back shell, and a small smattering of silver and copper coins. We thought about what to do next and decided to try the door that smelled like urine.

On opening it, we could hear the pad and whine of an approaching wolf. Deciding to back up, we shut it and let the animal bark and howl, which attracted other goblins from beyond it, to come out and berate the wolf to be silent. We waited until the goblins returned and we suspected that they were eating and resting for now, south and west.

Ok, we then went to the South door and listened and looked in. Hallway with 2 doors at the end on the east and west walls. West door had to lead back to the goblins and we snuck down and listened…sure enough, at least 4 goblin voices within. Alright. East door? Nothing heard.

Group gathered up and went down, checking out the east door. It was a guard room. The cistern on the ceiling had broken, leaking into this chamber. There was a section of the floor south and east, that had dropped and was leaking to the floor below. Alright! Figured that out. Two sets of double bunk beds and a 4 count of footlockers were in here. Decision was to avoid the weak floor and check out the lockers. There was another door on the north wall of this room. Listening to it revealed at least a half dozen goblin voices discussing with someone with a deeper voice named Bill. The Hobgoblin.

The footlockers ended up giving us assorted old orcish clothing, poor shape and threadbare. A bit over 2 dozen brass bits (as Rona said, “What the Hell is that?!”) and two small flasks with a blue liquid. Jesse and Liam helped let us know it was a Healing Draught. One was given to Starhawk, making the dwarven locksmith feel much better (healed 2), the other we saved for now. Deimos and Rona had some wounds on them, but we opted to wait and see.

This then had us in a quandary. Two rooms with goblins, ready and prepared. And the wild card of the goblin-wolf in the hall. We wanted to lure one group, hopefully Bill and his, down the stairs and used Dermus and Artor to help us out. So we went down, closing all the doors behind us, and spoke to the two orcs in the Chapel. We explained the plan was to have them lie on the floor ready and waiting, weapons (that we would supply them with) under them. Some of us would attack from behind, and the rest of us would hit them from the front. To make it more attractive, we gave them the healing draught we had found, Dermus drank it (winning with Rock smashing through Paper of course).

We went through a few plans but ended up with Jesse and Liam in the closet at the top of the stairs, the orcs in the same place as before, and the rest of us in the hall, weapons out and hot. Everyone got in position and we waited, door cracked ever so slightly from the hall to the room with the orcs.

It was a bit over 10 minutes that Bill Discourage and his troupe of three goblins came out of the east door, and went to the stairs, heading down. About half way down they stopped and were unhappy that the goblins were NOT here guarding. Bill warned the goblins to be ready and there was talk about going back up. Not wanting to miss out, we attacked, and almost immediately, Hawk got a crossbow bolt to the head! Stopped by his helmet, sticking right between his eyes. Jesse fired off a “push” spell at the gob at the top of the stairs, knocking it forward and making it stumble down the stairs to the next set. Liam was next, inching forward to ram his sword into the goblin’s back. We fired our own weapons and there was charging into the chamber. Axes went flying, more bolts were shot. Artor went down screaming and Dermus got shot – but lived!!! (Wicked scar!) Bill Discourage was beset on both flanks and the hobgoblin tried his damndest but was swiftly overrun and the battle came to an end a few scant minutes after it began.

We had some more damage and were not too happy with things. While looking them over, Bill had a key on him, and a note!. We read it:

Bill Discourage

Use the crate to capture both of them. Don’t give a Loki infested shit about anything else except cleaning up this fucking mess. Should never have trusted that orcish prick. Trank them, box them, and send them back to Paxian Shippers and Exporters as soon as fucking able. Let’s fucking hope they don’t kill anyone. Don’t fuck around, 2 teams. Cost is worth it.

Loring

Loring was the guy working for the guild that was against your guild at the Arena in Stivil. As for something to capture and trank, we hadn’t seen it yet. Mayhap that was what the wendigo’s were? They had gotten out and killed Eoghan’s family, and then chased us here. And were outside the Falcon’s Watch Keep. (To the players at the table – it explained some gaping holes in an earlier adventure we had where something didn’t make sense regarding the Paxian Shippers. But now it does!)

We loaded the dead bodies into the secret hall, Dermus taking the hobgoblin’s armor and sword (gearing up nicely dude!). We then went up the stairs to the office again and through the east door. Short hall with a door right there on the south wall, and another one north that lead to an office. We checked the south door, it was locked. So we used the new key and opened it up.

And a long armed hairy figure reached out, grabbed one of us by the head, and then smashed us in the chest, driving us back. Followed up by the same howling cry that we had run from earlier!

We looked around and some of us ran, Jesse and Dermus heading for the water room, Starhawk ran for the closet to hide. Liam backed up and that left Deimos who was getting VERY angry, Hawk, and Rona with the stalking figure. And it was strong. So very strong. Its blows were like hammer bolts (2d6+3!) and it took out strikes with wailing cries – but kept on. With Liam gone with the lantern, it was only dim light with us and infravision. Figure was a good 10’ tall, 4 and a half feet at the shoulder wide, and walked stooped over, long armed, and its eyes were brilliant, indicating it must have infravision – but the superior kind. Briefly, the word Grue was tossed around, but it did not matter as it proceeded to assault the party still standing before it.

Jesse knocked on the goblin door to the south, screaming that we were under attack and it was here. They locked the doors and barred them. Then it was hide in the bed chamber and Liam was listening and waiting. Hawk went down first and Deimos and Rona backed up into the office, the monster following. Deimos ran to the door with the wolf and ripped it open, hoping to get the animal to attack the monster! Instead, it attacked Deimos and the barbarian was howling at it, “Not me! Not me you idiot!”

The wendigo charged over and tore the wolf apart, Rona hitting it from behind and Deimos striking it from the front. Liam snuck into the office that Bill was in, and looked around, hoping to find something to “trank” it with – but nothing! This left only the roof. He waited, hoping to time his run just right.

Deimos was slain, his chest caved in, and then the monster turned its fury on Rona, beating and smashing the dwarven fighter to death. Liam took the chance and ran to the stairs and then up them to the roof. Where he found two very large crates (6’x6’x8’), double wall reinforced, a heavy crossbow mounted on a swivel (no Str penalty), a quiver of bolts with a wrapping on each one (tranked and ready), and a mound of rotting fruit – to attract them!. Hearing the monster below stalking closer on seeing the human thief run, Liam loaded up a bolt, swung the weapon around, took aim, and got ready.

It stalked closer and closer. Jesse left the room, Dermus stayed, the Halfling heading to the main room, seeing his friends dead, walked by the closet (Starhawk was still in there, hiding), and went down stairs. Was going to head out, but instead went to the secret room with the many dead bodies and reek of fecal matter, entered and shut the door, hunkering down in the dark and waited.

When Liam saw the monster storm out, charging toward him, he took aim…and fired!! And his bolt hit…but failed to penetrate! (Missed by ONE!!) The monster smashed out at him, hoping to throw him off the side, but Liam was buffeted and managed to roll a bit away, grabbing another bolt where he hoped to stab the Grue…but failed. And then he too was slain!

Dermus took the chance while all this was going on to run down the stairs, weave through the corridors, head to the front door, drag the statue aside, and then open it up, hoping to get away. And the second Grue that had been patiently waiting there most of the night, tore the orc to shreds, killing him gruesomely. (Lol)

Time passed and Starhawk was able to hear the stalking grue grow closer and closer. And then ripped the closet door open like tissue paper. He fired at it and it ignored the bolt in its chest, beating the dwarven locksmith to death. The two grue’s then stalked through the keep a bit, tried the goblin doors but failed to open them, ate some parts of the dead party members, and left long before sun rose to find whatever den that had been using to escape the day light.

The goblins fled the Falcon’s Watch in the early morning. And that left Jesse. The Halfling wizard/thief. She emerged hungry, thirsty, tired, and wired. She walked around, seeing everyone dead. In her own self interests, she did take the other half of the treasure that Liam still had on him (15 more silver and 200 more copper), added it to her half, and picked up the odd bit of treasure the rest of the party had on them (including a ring that Starhawk had taken from Eoghan’s murdered wife) and then left the orcish keep. She looked down the foothills of the Passian Hills to the Bowman homestead, then a number of others, and the distant walls some 3 miles away of Stivil. Where she was still responsible for the guilds’ loss and even after everything that had happened from Ripjack to now, she would be forced into slavery if she returned. Shaking her head she squared her shoulders and looked north instead. “Tradelands,” she muttered. “I wonder if some orcish clan could use my skills?”

And there we go! Jesse survived. And we now know as players that Eoghan’s family were killed by grues. Someone has been sneaking monsters OUT of the Terror Dungeon and selling them to the highest bidder out here. But somehow, Paxian Exporters fucked up and two were shipped to somewhere else and then escaped. And in their brief time out, took out Eoghan’s family.

Eoghan One Shot Post Report - Meet 1

This was the second one shot that I had planned to help get the group used to playing again at the table and reintroduce them to the world and adventure. We had a character at the table named Eoghan whose wife and child died over a year ago under strange circumstances at the character's home while he was out on a hunt with his father. He blames himself for not being there, his dad for guilting him to going out when he didn't want to, and swore a blood oath to avenge his wife and son's murder, hoping to discover in time who or what did it and bring them to justice.

This one shot would take the party back a year or so to that fateful night and reveal (in some way) what happened to Eoghan's family.

It was very fun! and Follows:

You are all minor members of a thieves guild in Stivil. This former Randari City is situated about a day or so travel north of Erylond in what has been unofficially referred to as Treaty Lands. Not specifically deeded to the Firvinir, the Orcish tribes that have eschewed city living, but definitely not part of the Traderoads that encircle the major hubs and locales of Rand. Perhaps 5,000 souls make their home here, with a bit under 2/3rds that number living in the city proper, the rest in the lands around. Population is 30% orcish, 30% human, 25% dwarven, with a smattering of the other races.

Situated on a natural rise, the walls of Stivil were breached over a century ago and the city never fixed the damage, incorporating the fallen walls and holes into the current layout and design – many of the easy stones have been long taken away for building elsewhere.

The fields around the city are home to flocks of sheep, goats, a smattering of bristly pigs/boars; with the primary food being grown being winter wheat, rye, potatoes, turnips, carrots, yams, and onion. There are plenty of natural growths of trees in the area to support local building but little left over for export. There is some stone masonry at the two larger quarries and that generates some income for the town.

There is also lots of hunting in the Passian Hills and wolves and bears are the obvious predators.

The big draw and livelihood of Stivil is the former Orcish arena that has been lovingly repaired, maintained, and now referred to simply as the Coliseum. With stands capable of seating 5,000, it is one of the few fully functioning fighting arenas still standing in the entire Randari area. The entire city of Stivil is laid out around this all important hub in 6 districts: The Lord’s District to the north, then East View (Upper and Middle class), then the Trades (Trades and industrial district), then Leeward (LC Arena District), then Westhome (LC Residential), and then finally Merchants Block.

Because of the Coliseum and the draw it brings, many of the industries and amenities in Stivil are geared around it. Hunters and slavers, fighting guilds, animal trainers, leather workers, smiths, armorers, gambling houses, hospice, and a host of all sorts of needed people and skills.

But like everything that involves, there is also the dark underbelly. Gambling houses, loansharks, money lenders, slavers…they are all there as well. There are 3 Thieves Guilds that operate in the area: The Silver Nobles (handles betting and wages, gambling – primarily from the visiting dignitaries as well as the local gentry), The Goats (lay claim to working the Arena and Merchants Block for opportunity – LC thieves and cutpurses), and not really a guild, but the Leather Chains (Leeward area, handle the interplay between the Arena and the local suppliers for the Arena games and the participants).

You are all members of the Goats. Each section is referred to as a “Cel” and is run by a leader known as the “Finger”. There are 5 cels and each cel answers to a master thief known as “the Hand”. And word from the Hand, is that they have been having issues with various animals that have been brought in to the Coliseum for some of the games. Wolves are a popular staple but some of the animals being brought in are rather more aggressive than their appearance and demeanor would dictate. Over the last 3 months or so, the Goats have lost 6 of the last 9 series bets made, not to mention some of the personal bets wagers on betting against the lupine fights. It has cost the guild some coin and prestige.

Tracking down where these difficult and aggressive animals came from, it was discovered that a known supplier, Dylan Bowyer, is the point man for these specimens. Dylan is a difficult man to speak with: curt, rude, and disinterested; he has rebuffed the Goats attempts to work with him. He supplied his animals directly to Master Loring and the Leather Chains and attempts to sway him have gotten nowhere.

At the last games, the Hand had advised your Cel due to the uncertainty, to not try and take any bets for the animal fights. However, your group, under the leadership of Caros, AKA “Ripjack”, a former arena fighter and champion, had all decided the risk was worth it, since other Cels were not taking bets from the populace. You did, hoping to make a few dozen commons for your efforts each, but the bets that you guys had proctored did not pan out in your way and you have found yourselves actually in debt to your Hand and the Guild. Like a lot. To the tune of 500 silver nobles!!

Your losses were covered by the guild and you were instructed to earn enough coin to cover all your lost bets as a crew within the next 24 days, or you would be given an indentured mark and ankle cuff and would have to work as a menial for the guild for the next year and a day to pay off your debt.

So your party took stock of the situation and came together. No one wanted to be effectively enslaved. Your cel was composed of Ripjack, the human champion and leader. Sandra Sunflower, a half-orcish druid and her enlightened companion, a tom cat referred to as “Fool”. Deimos Yamderth, a young half-orcish tribesman from the wilds of Rand. Liam Fletcher, archer, bowyer, and aspiring thief. The dwarf Starhawk Locksmith whose cover is that he is actually a locksmith in Stivil, working with the Cel to further supplement his income. Hawk the Animal, a half-orish warrior and occasional guard in Stivil. Jesse Underfoot, a hairfoot Halfling who had finished her stripes as a novitiate magister a few years ago. And Rona Stoneweather, dwarven Fighter and mason, and definitely one of the cel’s heavies.

Over the next few weeks, your cel made some attempt to perhaps lean on Bowyer but found him to be unswayed by your approach, almost threatening. You made attempts to catch him at market, at work, gatehouses, and even at his home. All to no effect. And finally at some point a counterpart from the Leather Chains came and advised your cel through your Hand to “back the fuck off”.

Despondent, you agreed to do so, but in private, there was much head shaking. You guys are in debt, and it’s going to take time to get out of it. You tossed around the idea of maybe going after his family, perhaps to lean on them to get him to “make good” on your loss OR to give your crew a heads up of what animal he might be bringing in next. If you can get the tag number of whatever wolf he brings in, you can hand pick and tailor the bets you would take at the next games to support only bets that had that tagged wolf lose, and keep the betted amounts. This is not without some risk though, to your guild as well as the Leather Chains. It seems like a dangerous idea as his family lives in Stivil proper and it was sort of implied by the Leather Chains that his family is also not to be touched. Unsanctioned jobs would result in your guild protection being revoked and all of you facing Baron Skudridd’s justice.

Frustrated and getting desperate, your crew thinks they have found a way around this. His youngest son goes on trapping expeditions with him now and again, a skilled hunter named Eogahn Bowman. The two men have been known to have a difficult relationship, but do often go on the longer hunts and traps together. Eoghan lives on a 2 acre homestead west of Stivil at the lower reaches of the Passian Hills, not too far from Falcon Watch Ruins, a former Randari watchpost, and has a young wife and son. The thought is that your crew waits for the time when Eogahn and Dylan go out hunting and trapping one night and your crew pays a visit to the young wife, Saoirse, and kid, and threaten them. The plan is rather open ended but your Hand has gotten more curt and short with your crew, and the word is that if you cannot come up with the shortfall funds in the next 3 days (the end of the 4 weeks), that your freedom is forfeit for a year plus.

You normally don’t operate outside of the city proper, and the thought of going far afield is both exciting as well as nerve wracking. But tonight is the night. One of you has kept watch and Dylan was seen meeting with Eogahn at the Elder Bowman’s home on Wall Street in Westhome. Giving them a good hour to get out of town, your crew has gathered up your gear and started to walk west outside the broken walls of Stivil. The homesteads closer to the city were in good repair with well defined fences and walls, but as you’ve gone further afield, they’ve become smaller, less neat, poorer repair, and in many places – either unlit or maybe abandoned.

It’s different at night but some 3 miles from Stivil after walking increasingly uphill, you have finally come upon Eogahn’s Homestead.  There are some sparks and light coming from the chimney of the house –a large wood and sod construction with wooden slate roof. A small barn and chicken coop is to the side of the main house. A clothes line could be seen strung up, empty now. A wooden target well worn and in less than the best of shape sits on a tree maybe 30 paces from the house. It’s quiet, and a dim light could be seen coming from cracks in the shutters.

The thought was that we walk the property and see if there’s a back door of some sort. It was pointed out the house is made of wood…dirt, and sod. It’s long strips of sod and grass laid over a frame. Either way, the walk went on. Once it was cleared that there was no back door, the next thought was to check the barn. So two of us crept up to the barn and looked around, using only the moonlight for now. It was a single stall barn, small mound of hay, loft above, and the tools were old and peasant quality, but in good repair. No animals were in. So we came back together and discussed the next options. Sandra and Jesse were going to stay by the property edge, which was a mound of dirt about a foot and a half tall in front of a ditch about the same depth, running the entire perimeter. The rest of the group crept closer

There was a porch made of hewn planking, the middle section of the planking had been cracked in the recent past, fairly dirty as well. But we were at the door and the party opened the door, ready to intimidate Saoirse.

But they had a different problem.

She was dead, her back broken against the hard frame of the bed, red hair a tangled mess, face bruised as if she had been punched, brutally slain. Sightless eyes staring up. Blood was everywhere. The child’s crib, Duncan, had been thrown hard against the far wall, laying upside down, a lone infant’s leg, unmoving, was seen sticking out of the wreckage.

The party was shaken, and the decision was to better look around. Rona, Starhawk, and Liam all volunteered to check out the house. Ripjack, Deimos, and Hawk all were going to go back to the barn area. From the edge of the property, Jesse and Sandra were concerned with all the activity going on, but decided to stay in place for now. There was a growing ground fog forming as the night moved on, the cool air mixing with the heat from the warm ground.

Rona was checking out the main room, noting that a few partial prints were visible. Maybe twice the size of a man, unshod, and heavy. Dirty as well. She went out to the porch, and noted the break and dirty section of the porch matched what she had seen within. Liam was at the kitchen area, noting that the stew was still hot, and the bowl at the table was still warm, almost steaming. He ate, it was delicious. Starhawk could tell she had tried to fight back, some flesh was under her nails. There were also some thick dark brown hairs, maybe 6” long, that were out of place, loose, tangled in her own hair. He did however, check out her wedding ring, sliding the silver band with the amethyst chip off her finger, and placing it in his pouch for now.

The others were looking over the barn, entering this time, looking about. Deimos could tell that there was a heat source in the loft above, something heavy had been in one place long enough to heat up the boards it was sitting on, showing a spreading “orange” color above. The pantomimed what he saw and they all fanned out, but couldn’t see from where they were. Ripjack volunteered to go up and look around, checking out the ladder and then proceeded to climb.

Meanwhile Sandra was getting a bit concerned. Fool had wandered off and had not come back. She and Jesse entered the property and were following what signs that the druid could see, making their way in an wandering path in the direction of the barn.

And then we heard a terrible loud roar from the loft. Ripjack screamed as a huge hairy hard reached out and grabbed him by the head, dragging the fighter into the loft and then there was much shouting. Deimos and Hawk both ran out of the barn, slamming the door closed, surprising Sandra and Jesse who were there. “Back! Back to Stivil!” The rest of the group came out of the Bowman house, looking around.

And then we heard ANOTHER ferocious and answering roar. Coming EAST of where we were, replying to the one in the barn – and between us and town. “Falcon’s Watch!” Liam called out and the group turned to run west, pelting across the ground as we heard something smash from the barn and Ripjack’s broken body came pinwheeling out of the loft door and smashed into the chicken coop, landing bonelessly and very dead.

There was some jockeying on our part as we ran off, Deimos snatching the Halfling, Jesse, right off the ground, and placing her on his shoulders as the barbarian poured on the speed, racing off hard. He passed most of the rest of the group, including Rona who had a good and steady pace already established. The roaring continued behind us, slowly getting closer as we charged on. Deimos and Jesse, then Rona and Starhawk, then Hawk, then Liam and Sandra in the back.

Liam felt a stitch in his breathing as he ran on, stumbling a bit, but Sandra was in the same boat. The line of the party was growing longer and longer, Deimos now maybe a hundred yards ahead of the back of the group. The barbarian saw the dark outline of Falcon’s Watch up ahead. The keep was at least 2 stories tall, maybe 60’ square, and was situated along the back of a cliff. The main door was closed and yelling, the half orc had his arms outstretched as he hit the building, blasting the door open, and ran on in. There was another set of double doors beyond this one and a few rusty halberds were on the floor. He helped Jesse down as he looked around with infravision, seeing nothing that was raising an alarm.

Liam was outpacing Sandra, the druid gritting her teeth as she slowed more and more, aching and in pain. And at maybe 40’ ahead of her, he heard her scream anew and more roaring RIGHT BEHIND HIM! The party found new reserves of strength and poured it on, straining to make it to the keep as Sandra was beaten to death and eventually silenced.

Rona and Starhawk charged in. Starhawk looked over the main door, the locking bar had been snapped some time ago, and the “U” bolts set in the door were warped a bit out of shape. But if they could get the door closed, he could try and brace it shut with the halberd shafts. “Come on!” they called as Hawk the Animal stumbled through the main and then second door. Jesse was already getting a candle lit as we were gathering what was needed to seal the place up. “Run Liam!”

The thief was almost sobbing, he could hear the monster, whatever it was, was close again. Too close. Arms out ahead of him, he passed through the outer doors as the group shoved them closed and set the halberds within the frame. Just in time as SOMETHING heavy hit it from the other side. And then hit it again. And again. And again> More roaring followed, furious and angry, and now repeated bashing and smashing at the main door. They all filed into the main hall beyond, and shut the second door here, Starhawk shoving a brace lock in place, the group settling in and getting their breath back after the made dash.

We took stock of ourselves. Ripjack was slain, Sasha was slain. No one from the guild knew where we were going, and we were the last people at Eogahn Bowman’s homestead and had witnessed the brutal after effects of his wife and son’s murder but something or somethings that had now chased them another mile WEST, further away from town, and now they were trapped in the crumbling walls of the former Randari Ympire’s aged keep.

We hoped to wait it out for the monster or whatever to leave. There was thought it might be a werewolf, but the moon was half way and waxing, so there were some dissenting opinions. With Jesse’s candle lit, Starhawk did the same, lighting a candle, and then Liam took his lantern out, lighting that as well. With plenty of light, we looked around. The halls were about 5’ wide, and to the east some 4 paces away was a door, to the west the same was another door, and the passage also turned right, heading north. We fanned out, spreading out to get a lay of the place, everyone heading to different doors to listen and check out.

The north passage eventually turned a bit, revealing a door on the west wall, and at the end of the passage, a door at the end of the hall on the north wall. Liam went there, Jesse the closer door, Starhawk the first west door, and Deimos the eastern one. Hawk and Rona moved about to help as need be, Rona heading with Deimos. Deimos revealed a former guard post. The floor had collapsed at some point in the past, dropping almost 2/3rds of the room down. The ceiling also leaked and there was about 3’ of water in the collapsed section – where a single bed was floating there!

Bed?! Ah! Not wanting to be slain at the bed, Deimos goosed it closer and looked in the water – where a statue lying on its side of a Viking maiden could be seen under the scummy surface. So the half-orc clambered on the waterlogged bed and pushed off from the edge. Where the bed sank immediately and he was standing on his tiptoes on the mattress, looking down at the statue. Rona was watching, eyes peeled. There was a door at the other end of the room, but Deimos was fashioning a loop out of his length of leather thong, and was using that to hopefully catch one of the statues’ hands. It was not easy going.

Starhawk had listened to his room, heard nothing, and then opened the door – showing a bedroom with 2 rotting and mouldy beds at the far end of the chamber, the floor swept clean. “Na ah,” he muttered, closing the door and shaking his head.

Jesse’s door was opened to show a guard post, about half way across the room it was divided by a rough tapestry hanging from hooks on the ceiling. Not wanting to walk in, he closed the door and joined Liam who had called him from the north door.

This room was bigger, and there were leering orcish faces painted and carved on the walls, each one maybe 4’ tall. There was another door also on the south wall of this room, and Jesse felt it joined up with the guard room she had seen on the other side. Hawk was now at that open door peering into the guard room from the south, when the north door was opened.

And hanging on the curtain, was a 3’ long 8 legged monstrosity with the front 2 legs crab legs! It skittered down and began to head for the Halfling, Jesse shouting, “Crab Spider!” and slamming the door closed. The spider, unable to go that way, turned south and ran under the tapestry, shocking Hawk who saw it coming. He slammed his door closed and gave a curse, “That was a Crab! With Spider legs!!

“No, it was a spider with crab claws,” Jesse corrected.

“Spider legs!”

“Crab claws!!”

Deimos had limited luck on getting the statue lifted, the thong broke. So eventually he reached down into the water and hoisted the statue upright. It was pretty rusted looking, but once it was looked over, was pretty much nothing special. “Damn,” the half orc said, getting off the bed and heading over to the far door. Hawk had joined them as well as Starhawk, Rona listening to the north door out of the room.

Meanwhile Jesse and Liam had gone back to the orc face room and were giving the area a closer look over. It was here that on the north wall, that Liam found a stud in one of the carved face’s nose! It could be pressed and maybe a section of the carving would open up. Jesse and him were concerned. This was an outside wall, and what if it opened up to the outside? Could the werewolf, or whatever, get in? Eventually the decision was to open in. Jesse stepped back and Liam pressed the stud, releasing the catch, and opened the face.

And an orange stained gas under pressure blasted out, catching the thief in the hair, face, neck, chest, and both arms. He could feel himself getting woozy and (failed save) slumped over, just weaker for the experience. But once it was identified that that was all the issue was, Jesse came over and the two of them looked within. It wasn’t a pass through, but a hollow instead. Shallow and shelved, there were stacks of copper coins, each one 10 high. 40 stacks of them. And 3 stacks of silver nobles. And below that, a closed vial with a faintly shimmering blue potion within. The two friends smiled and split up the 400 nobles and 30 silver amongst themselves, Liam daring to crack the vial and take the shortest sip before closing it up. He felt…good! His sore tooth wasn’t bugging him for a second, and everything tasted minty. Assuming it was healing, he pocketed it for now. At this point they heard the sound of hitting and smashing coming from where the rest of the group was, so shutting the door, they ran off to catch up.

Rona had listened at the door, hearing nothing, and was going to open when the Fighter stopped and chuckled. “That’s just what they’d be expecting us to do,” she muttered. She then took out her hand axe, hoisted it back, and proceeded to beat at the door. She grunted and hit, Starhawk joining in, taking out his Sickle and hacking at the door. The old orcish portal was tough though and refused to give way. So Hawk took out his 20 lb war axe and stepped around Starhawk, beating and bashing at the door.

It took some time before the Half Orc and the Dwarf managed to finally break the door down, dropping it to the floor and then high fiving each other as they peered in…at a passage that went off to the west, ending at a door. The group all convened, including the human and Halfling, neither one saying anything about what they had discovered, but Deimos noting that Liam was now stained bright orange along his top half – and said nothing. “Huh, humans,” he said, shaking his boots dry and joining the rest of the party at the hall.

Starhawk had picked up the door knob from the floor, hoping to see what lock was on it that had stymied the party…but the door had NO lock on it. And the door was never locked. But the two of them had beaten at the door for a few minutes until it broke…”Ugh,” he grunted and let the knob fall.

The party went down the hall to the end, listened, and then it was another foot raised and smashing through! Passing into the hall beyond, and then through the NEXT door, where the Animal picked himself up and looked around, A small office, but all the furnishings in here had been broken up leaving only splinters and the odd wooden bit of garbage. In the hall, there was a door on the south and the passage went north and then turned east. So Hawk and Starhawk checked over the south door before opening it to show a small office with a battered looking chest on the south wall. Starhawk walked in to check it out.

And a 20# mass of viscous green slime dropped from the ceiling, hitting the dwarf in the head, neck, and across his back! And it began to hiss, bubble, and steam, burning the dwarf as it proceeded to EAT him!. “AH!!! GET IT OFF!!!!”

Hawk held the group back a second, advising them. “It’s green slime! It needs to be burned off! Don’t touch it, or it’ll eat you too!!”

Liam upended his flask of oil on it and using Starhawk’s candle, set it alight. Flames raced across both of them, the locksmith using his knife to cut his armor straps, letting his studded leather armor fall free, the larger portion of the slime going with it. But he still had a decent amount on his head. Deimos and Rona moved passed and went north, and Hawk tried to shove Starhawk further in the room to be eaten by the slime! But it was Jesse who used the last of her candle to slowly burn the green slime patches off of Starhawk’s head until the dwarf was no longer in danger of being consumed alive. We took him out of the room as his armor was being eaten, and shut it behind us. “Fuck that chest.”

Meanwhile, Liam, Deimos, and Rona, had gone down the hall, turned left, and then left again, the hall heading west, with 2 doors on the north wall, one local, one at the end. Liam volunteered to go down and listen, the thief heading to the door, ready to hear when the entire wall at the end of the hall slid UP and two goblins, in a motley of mismatched clothes and bits of armor, one armed with an almost 4’ length of wood sharpened to a wicked point, the other with a stout wooden club, gibbered and snarled! Liam turned to flee, but was stabbed in his side by the stick wielder!

They ran down the hall after the fleeing thief but Rona and Deimos were there. Deimos had his trident up and ready as one of them HURLED his club at the half orc! Hitting him in the chin and mouth!

Rona dodged the frantic stab by the stick wielder, wrested his weapon away from him, then reversed it and SLAMMED it into the goblin, breaking it off as 2 feet of it passed through the greenskin’s body, killing him. Deimos stepped around and expertly thrust his trident through the 2nd goblin’s face, neck, and chest, puncturing its lung and driving it to crash to the floor, crumbled and dead. As the goblin screams died out, the barbarian used his foot as a brace to pull his trident free and then the group shut the secret door after noting it was pretty empty except for a section in the back the goblins had been using as a toilet. And a cup hanging from a hook on the wall – that Hawk shook his head at and said with all confidence, “Don’t touch it. It’s piss.”

And that was the first half of the Eoghan’s Family once shot.

Gnome One Shot Post Report - Meet 2

This was the 2nd half of the One Shot (a problem I have, making my one shots too long!) where the group tried to get a number of gnomes to escape the Theocrat and the former gnomish homeland, the Nightwoods. We had interviewed and met with a new 6th player who did not make the game the prior week due to being sick. This resulted in a brief ret-con of the last 10 minutes of the game…Enjoy!)

The Original Ending:

Dame Fireball was at one point a member of the Arcane Academy but as the Theocrat was rising to power, she could see the way things were going and “retired”, moving to her ancestral estate and staying here and out of the public eye. She is part of the Underground Railroad and uses her estate as a way point for gnomes looking to flee. She has a hollow space set up under the grain silo and they will stay there. At midnight, her long time friend, Undark, will meet them and it is three days from here to the next stage of their escape – a Thorpe named “Hopeless” and a contact named Sintankerin “Skank” Skunkherder.

She wished them well, helped them get set up in the hollow under the silo, showed them where the water skins and food stuffs were, and instructed them to rest up for now, it’s three days hard travel overland to the next locale. Once inside, some healing was given to Scrambles by Peppy’s healing kit and a natural touch or magic by Sprink. We loaded up about 4 days of food and water – it was going to weigh more, but as Seagull suggested, it was better to have more than not enough.

Let’s assume that MOST of that happened, with some adjustments as seen to follow, shall we?

And now…on with the show!

Follows:

A good month or so earlier, Spatula, a gnomish scullion barely out of her 50’s (19 to you and I), and a penchant for violence and unnecessary altercations, had gotten into another of her spats and fights with a young gnomish woman in the kitchens of the cookhouse she was working in and unfortunately, the 2 of them attracted the attention of a local Theocrat Defender. The matter was resolved at that time, but the head chef had taken a shine on young Spatula, and informed her that she needed to get out of Nightwoods and soon, as her repeated offences regarding inner-fighting and assault on other gnomes was now a matter of public record…and the Defenders were looking to possibly bring her in for re-education.

She was given instructions to gather her belongings and make her way via rail from Foxmanor to Deepwoods, bringing a set of work papers with her (not in her name) to the Festival Manorhouse where she should make contact with a member of the underground railroad named Ruffles – her first point of contact in getting out of Nightwoods. After that, she found herself in a group of 5 other gnomes who were also being smuggled out. Their adventure and trip away followed a similar bent and path that the party would a month later. They made their way into the Manor House, found their way to Konami and used his code to make it through the tunnels. They met the half ogre clan known as the Baggers and stayed in their sacks until weather had turned and they could meet the Westward Gale and Captain Notchers.

It was here that the journey differed. Spatula had drunk the cups of pond water the half ogres had supplied and had gotten ill from it. So during the height of the lightning storm, she had gone to the head (bathroom on a ship) where she stayed for a few hours, cramping up, voiding, drinking a bit more, and then doing it all again and again. So when Squirrel had gotten the gnomes to take the “Dropship” down to the floor, assuming that it was the next stage of their journey, they were nowhere to be seen when the Westward Gale landed at the Helburn Estate.

And then Spatula staggered out of the head, made her way to the deck, and wondered where everyone else was. The ship was searched again, no other gnomes were on board, and this had gotten Captain Notchers bothered – it was about every 3rd time for the last 10 or so trips that some of the escapees just disappeared. Dame Hellburn suggested they might have been magiced off the ship by another vessel. However it was, Spatula was left here and the Westward Gale took off on its way to Clearmeadow.

As for the scullion, Dame Fireball was not going to send her along at this time. A lone gnome would be snatched up by the Monastics and it was prohibitively expensive to just send her. Instead she would work on the Dame’s estate in the same capacity she had been in other homes, except she was to be covered up at all time, have her own secretive quarters, and SAY NOTHING AND DO NOTHING THAT WOULD ATTRACT ANYONE’S ATTENTION!!.

Spatula got it.

Almost 4 weeks passed before it was announced “Ship coming in!” and the entire staff came to the clearing to see the Westward Gale settling down. Spatula was enticed to gather her belongings and material and was escorted to the grain silo where she was given instructions to introduce herself to the other group and this would be her travelling companions on the next leg of their journey out of the Nightwoods.

When they entered the silo, Dame Fireball started the introductions and informed them that they would all be leaving at midnight. Her familiar, Undark, a large mole, would be guiding them on the next leg of their journey. 3 days to a small town named Undark where they will make contact with Sintankerin Skunk Skunkherder. The silo was sealed up and the group loaded up on foods and water, opting to get as much sleep as they could before midnight.

The mole burrowed into the area through the western wall, scooping out the hard packed dirt and then coming in. It was big, some 3’ tall, 4 and a half feet long, and had to weigh in the vicinity of 100 plus pounds. Sprinkle, as an Adept, found he could communicate with the Dame’s familiar without the need of using his ability to speak with burrowing animals, so he acted as the translator for the party, fielding questions of the big guy as need be.

We left the silo where Undark refilled the hole, and then he had us follow him through some tunnels until we came upon the surface. From there, he kept up a tight pace and exacting schedule, escorting the group through the primeval forest and leading them on. We had a good pace in the beginning before we came upon the presence of an ogre. It was wandering about, beating the bushes with a length of tree, and sniffing about.

As the rest of the group hid in the bushes, Spatula went the other way, clambering up the nearest tree and hiding in the foliage. We waited and watched, nervous as it got closer and closer. Spatula contemplated leaping out of the tree and stabbing the brute with her stiletto, but was getting waved off by the party below that that was a TERRIBLE idea.

We needed to get it away from us, so Peppy made the sound of foxes scattering through the underbrush and ran off to the north. As the ogre gave chase, we moved off at a good clip to the west again, Spatula scaling down the tree face first in a spooky and freaky fashion. After a bit of a jog, we slowed down and continued our trek, eyes wide. Peppy was gathering the odd berry, moss, tuber, and fungus along the way, just in case we were to starve needlessly!

Sprinkle tried to let us know some of the thoughts and feelings that Undark had, but the group felt that he was unduly embellishing the mole’s comments to give them a skeptical and sarcastic tone. We continued on through the night but it was in the early hours of the morn that Undark let the group know that the ogre was on our trail and hunting the party. Not for anything to do with the Theocrat, but merely to catch and cook us. We sped up, running through the woods fast. Scrambles had the easiest time of it all, taking deep breaths as we charged on.

The ewerer was getting into a fight with Undark, telling him to just dig us a hole and we can all hide in it and the mole was snapping back that in the time we had, it would be big enough for HIM only, and none of the gnomes. He was looking for a rabbit warren that he could swiftly widen up and get us all in in time. The party, only hearing Sprinkle’s side of it, admonished the gnome to leave Undark alone.

Sprink became winded and then some of the others followed, Garrick and Peppy. We started stumbling along, looking behind us, worried as the ogre grunted out as it ran after us. It still hadn’t spotted us, relying on its sense of smell for now, but we were losing ground. We came upon a small creek (barely 3’ wide, maybe 8” deep) and ran Upstream, hard and fast, boots and shoes muddying as we high stepped it through the gravel and wet dirt. We continued on until we were mostly exhausted. Finally we came upon a tree at the creek’s edge that had fallen over. Undark crawled under it and dug us out a wider hollow and the party all filed in and with no energy left, passed out and rested.

We awoke the next evening tired, muscles hurting. Most of the group had never run like that before and were unused to such periods of exercise. Our packs and skins were a bit lighter and we felt we were going to make better time, and followed Undark as he led us out of the hollow and we moved off through the evening westward some more. It was a long walk through the woods and we noticed something. The average age of the trees was getting younger, testament to our approach of the edge of Nightwoods. The trees were still old, one or two centuries, but not the 4, 5, or even older growths that had been part of our world for the longest time. It made the party sad in some way, but they were also excited to note they were getting closer to their goal.

Outside of the stray owl, field mouse, or other night animal, out trip this night was without issue and we came in due time to an abandoned woodcutters cottage. It had to have been abandoned a decade or more. Ceiling sagged, and other signs of the place being weary, but we were able to get inside and once there, dropped our bags and packs and ate. We talked for a while about our journey and once more there was some concern about how Sprinkle was displaying Undark’s attitude. Either way, we rested and slept real well.

The next night had us tighten our straps even more as our packs were lighter again. We left the cottage and moved on, following Undark again into the woods. We had a good run for a while until the mole sighed and commented that “they” were here. Who? That was to be seen as a brownie appeared on the path before us, 8 inches of tremendous ego, and demanded tribute as “King of the Brownies!” Someone mentioned leprechauns which only insulted him, making him land on the ground and stride up imperiously. A number of others were in the trees and it was telling we needed to give him 2 commons or he’d “gut us where we stand” with his very small sword – practically a needle.

So Spatula snapped him up and stuffed him into her small sack.

He cussed and screamed and she shook the sack around, holding the top tight, slapping it into the trees and from within, the brownie tried to stab at her through the bag but couldn’t get a good shot. Eventually he was reduced to tears and begged to be let free. So she dumped it out and he rolled to his feet, crying and miserable. As for the rest of us, they wanted tribute and Garrick and Seagull worked up a system where they gave 10 bits and a sewing needle, which the brownies were fascinated with as it was so sharp. We left them and moved on, continuing our journey until at long last, we could smell the Thorpe of Hopeless.

And it smelled like it sounded.

4 ramshackle buildings and part of a stone building that was at one point a tower or keep were here. A number of wagons and tired looking ponies along with maybe 20 or so gnomes that we could see. And skunks. Lots of skunks. A damned ugly gnome with pocks, a reek, and some old scars met the group. He was Skunk and he thanked Undark for getting them here. The mole left and wished us well, and the group once more, was unsure if Sprink was translating properly for us. Skank got us off the street (mud path?) and into the stone house. He let us know that we would be able to rest (we were exhausted) and we would be leaving tomorrow morning. There would be 3 wagons set up, we had to sneak in the bottom of one of them (trap door on the bottom), under the bark chips and skunk gland extract, and would take us out of Nightwoods where we would meet up with a tribe of centaurs headed by a Stallion named Ravage. Ravage would then take us to Tradeford and our last leg of the journey. As for which wagon? Leave it up to chance. There was a cup with 3 marbles in it, 2 brown and one black. We choose a marble and then get in the wagon of that color – all 3 wagons were going out, and no one would know which one we were in.

We talked about what was waiting for us. There were a number of gnomes in and out of Nightwoods who were making this possible, but it was expensive to maintain as well as suss out good roads and avenues to use to escape. This particular journey was being funded by a pair of gnome brothers, the only ones of their family to escape re-education, who had a confectionary factory in a far town named Stivil. Malik “Malted” Dingrel Falser and Yultar “Uke” Dingrel Falser were helping to make sure the group made it out ok, and they were eventually waiting for the party in Stivil – some 12 days from Tradeford.

We rested the day, woke up, happy and disturbed to note that we were no longer bothered by or noticed the skunk smell, ate and drank, laughed with Skank a bit, the trader reminding us about the marble and just “pick the right one, you’ll know!” and then got a great night sleep. Scrambles was much better after her tumble with Squirrel and even though she still sported a wound, it didn’t seem to affect her much anymore.  We checked out the cup and there were 2 brown and a black one. We randomly drew one (brown) and went outside to look. 3 wagons, each loaded, each with a pony in the front. All brown, one had a black backboard. Going back inside the talk was then, how would we be on the RIGHT wagon to take us to Ravage? Where would the other 2 go? The wagons looked the same except for the paint backboard. Peppy snapped one of them black and we all snuck out, climbed into the hollow spot under the wagon, and dragged the floordoor up in place, pegging it closed.

Some time passed and we heard the wagons load up and then Skunk stomped on the baseboard and said, “Yeah, hope we’re ready to go?” When no one replied, he did it again and we knocked back quietly in response, hearing him chuckle. And then they all left Hopeless and moved on.

As we rocked along in the wagon, we could see the light filtering in through the cracks was getting brighter and brighter as the hours passed until some time after lunch, Skunk stopped the wagon and we could hear other voices talking to him. He climbed off and the party was coaxed to come out through the hollow door again. We were out…in a grassy area…with NO trees at all over head or nearby. Looking east, we could see the wall of Nightwoods running to the horizon north and south, a mile or two from where we were (6 checks had us all negative for agoraphobia – thank gods!)., We laughed and smiled and thanked Skank for getting us this far.

He introduced us to Ravage, a huge centaur with a bit of an attitude but was happy to meet us. His herd had 5 other centaurs, all females, and all his mates. There was the discussion of centaur clothes that invariably followed as well as from our vantage point…just HOW blessed Ravage was…down there and that Garl damn it, how could we NOT look at it! It’s fucking eye level with us!

Since Sprink was the only one with riding skill, he was invited to ride in a fanny pack on Ravage’s back, the rest of the group was enticed to climb into various backpacks and get ready. We all got prepared, thanked the centaur for this, it was well known that centaurs do not like people to ride them, Ravage assured the group that because of this, they should be able to make their way through any Theocratic interference. And then we were off.

It was a few hours later that we could hear an airship descending not too far away and a contingent of gnomish Defenders stopped Ravage. It was Monastic Vulpurus. He was following a group of escaped gnomes and wanted to know what the Centaur was doing out here. Words were exchanged as well as threats. Centaurs reminded Vulpurus that they were NOT citizens of Nightwoods, and are not bound by their laws. And they can come and go as they see fit. Carry anyone? Ride them> Are you kidding? Tensions rose and the Defenders reminded Ravage that their special status could be revoked at any time in the future if the Council wishes.

Ravage reminded them that they had been here as far back as history says, and know the woods better than most any gnomes. Want to see hunts dry up? Riders harassed? Internal trade disputes? Just try and flex your muscles. Until then, turn and get the fuck back on your ship, as you are very much out of your jurisdiction. Vulpurus agreed, letting Ravage know that he’ll see them later to discuss this matter. The gnomes went back to the ship and eventually it took off, heading back to Nightwoods.

The centaurs reassured the group and we moved on for a another few hours, stopping at a small stand of trees. A fire was lit and the centaur herd and our group took to talking and laughing, sharing food and stories. Then one of the women gave a shout and then Ravage as well, and fell over. Then another, and another! We looked around and in the space a couple dozen seconds, all the centaurs had been knocked out, crossbow bolts in their flanks and rumps.

Striding up to the party was Vulpurus and two of his Defenders. “I’ve been tracking you for a while now. It’s time to take you back and get you reeducated as soon as possible.” They were loading up their crossbows for another round of fire when the group tried to hide behind the fallen centaurs.

Garrick took out his canister of lightning and took aim at Vulpurus, letting the bolt fly! It struck the Defender in the chest, blowing his back and knocking him down. “Get them!” he cried out, and they readied to fire. Spatula ran up to try and attack them, jo stick sliding free. Peppy and Seagull were hoping to wake the centaurs up, the apothecist letting the party know that they were down for the count for now. Spatula jumped and hit, cracking one of the other crossbowers. Scrambles drew her sword and ran to help.

Bolts flew, knives were thrown. Garrick drew his hand crossbow and fired off. Vulpurus got up with a snarl and strode forward. Spatula took a wicked shot in the side but remained standing. Seagull was trying to get Ravage up, water and slapping wasn’t working. He then had the idea of sticking his finger…in the centaur’s ass. Although it did creep out the party, Ravage remained unconscious.

Peppy used his pewter mug and got a cup full of embers, going to run to the party. Garrick fired again. The gnomes were having a rough time. Scrambles caught a deep stab, but she and Spatula took down one of the gnomes. And then Sprink took out his own canister of lightning, took aim at Vulpurus, and fired.

The Monastic had no idea the bolt was coming and it tore through him, blowing a hole in his chest and shredding his side so hard, that his arm flew off and it cauterized the wounds instantly – but the gnome fell to the ground dead before he even hit. And Sprink was once more horrified by how effective he seemed to be at killing other gnomes with such brutal mortal effectiveness.

Seagull then had the idea of jamming his finger into Ravage’s open crossbow wound….and this time it was effective. Very effective. The spinster was hit in the upper chest and shoulder, busting his collar bone and sending him flying a good 7 feet from the centaur’s spasmodic hoof kick. He rolled to a stop, in agony and at 1 hp. Ravage got up and saw his herd had been knocked out, Garrick firing, Sprink just pointing in horror, and Seagull on the ground in pain. Across the area Peppy was beating a gnome with his mug after hurling fire on his face neck and clothes, and Scrambles and Spatula, very hurt, were plying their sticks and swords at the last gnome Defender.

He snatched up his bow, loaded a 7’ arrow to it, and fired – ripping into the gnome with the first shot. And then a second one went off, killing it outright. We dragged the bodies close and looked them over, taking what we could from them, Garrick taking a full sized crossbow. Once the women were up, Ravage told us we had to bury the bodies deep, so no one would know what happened to them, especially that centaurs were involved in the killing of gnomes.

For the most part, the group was uneasy with the combat, killing other gnomes just seemed wrong. This whole thing was just wrong. And the wrong started with one gnome – the Theocrat. Fish rots from the head down, and the Theocrat was the person, for whatever good intentions he had in the beginning, for the ultimate way that gnomish society and home had been perverted and warped. And they had to leave because of it.

We healed what we could and then rested, some of us just not feeling it. The next day had us on our way and by afternoon we arrived at Tradeford. A gnomish friendly caravan group of wagons was situated there and waiting for us. Ravage arranged payment and wished us the best. And we went. We saw hills and dales. Small human cities and larger former orcish keeps and garrisons. We beheld the majesty of the Borbuta Sea, an inland body of water so large it had its own tide and affected weather patterns for 3 days around it. We travelled through cities so massive, it had to house 50 thousand souls. And we saw poverty and misery unlike we had ever known before. There were people starving on the sides of the roads for lack of food, lame and sick were there as well, poor medicine and lack of basic sanitation their downfall.

But through it all, 12 days of travel, we noted that as gnomes, we were looked on as “quaint” and “neat”..but then just as fast, dismissed and ignored. It was weird and humbling. To come from a society where most everyone looked like you and the world was your size, to another where you were at a size disadvantage for everything from doors to chairs to steps…and to be also ignored as unimportant…was humbling. And there were things that showed how dire things were for the people of Rand, and they didn’t even know any better.

Eventually the caravan arrived at Stivil, a former orcish walled city that had been opened up some time ago. We went to a section of the town that appeared to be an industrial center, more shapeless and bland buildings with more misery to spread around. But at the end of a block, was a large 3 story structure, painted in the bright reds, pinks, and whites. And there were gnomes here, half orcs and half ogres as well, but gnomes, lots of gnomes. They were well fed, clothed in clean raiments, and in good health. We were met with hugs and cheers, songs and tears. Two older gnomes came and held our hands and wished us welcome and that we were for now safe and amongst friends and family. Malted and Uke, led the party into the Falser Confectionary where for the first time in 15, 20 years, the party felt..safe.

And home.