Meet 95, Adv 6, 8/31/19

At this meeting the new player at the table had his own character, a Human Ranger that I was able to introduce through the interactions of the Hobgoblins. To help the group out in their attempt to storm Ixitch's Manorhouse a second time, I've included 3 of the hobgoblin warriors to help them out.

They are going to need them this go round.

Write up follows:

For the next 3 days, the party was at the welcome…and mercy, of the Bloodtusk clan. The hobgoblins were focused on their overall and arching mission which was to bring their might in a surgical strike against the orcish tribe that had raided their caves some 6 months earlier. Less wise creatures would have thrown themselves at the orcs hoping to take as many down as possible, but the hobgoblins have a different outlook – the clan is important – but no more important than the individuals that make it up.

Any attack on the orcs would have to be one that did not risk the decimation of the Bloodtusk strike team.

We learned from Lieutenant Bloodtusk that he would lend us 4 of his fighters to go an assault the Ixitch Manorhouse. From his conversation with his advisors, what the party had told him about Scratch, and some serious strategy – the thought was that currently the orc tribe in question does not know of or use Scratch – but if they did, their capability would increase which would mean more potential loss of life for the Hobgoblins. So by taking out the Dealer, or seriously curtailing his ability, it prevents the promulgation of the drugs in question.

But it’s not a horse he has in the race and the main goal is to continue to shadow and track the orcish tribe as they break down their encampment and begin their wandering portion of their annual lives. But they did take back any wooden shields we had and upgraded most everyone’s armor thanks to their smiths and armorers.

We had a chance to meet and discuss plans and tactics with the 4 that would be coming with us. Bad Tom Bloodtusk was a giant of a hobgoblin, almost 7’ tall and over 300 lbs, he was the excited front line fighter of the group. Will Full Murder Bloodtusk was shorter and thinner, but was a crack shot with his flatbow and had some serious skill in sneaking around and scouting. Elsa Ire Bloodtusk was an adherent of Maglubiyet and had some fighting skills based upon her god’s skill set.

And then there was Eoghan.

At over 6’ tall and somewhere in his early 20’s, this non-hobgoblin had been captured by the Bloodtusk tribe over a year ago and had been their thrall during that time. Already a skilled bowman, his abilities grew exponentially in tracking and shooting, able to find his way through the densest forest in the darkest night. Saddened over some travesty that befell him almost 2 years ago, the Bloodtusks were waiting for an opportunity to send Eoghan on his way.

We were it.

The 4 were instructed that the group – primarily Barb and Brading, were in charge and they were to take out Ixitch Barrowman and end his dealing abilities. Then the three hobgoblins should find their way back to the strike team and Eoghan was free to go. It was expected that the hobgoblins would be entitled to a share of any spoils if any.

So it was on the end of the 4th that now fully equipped and given a bag full of food, that the now nine party members made their away from the Bloodtusk encampment and began their trek back. We pushed overland for a while, then turned south and stole our way through the early morning hours around huts and homes, making no effort to interact with anyone. We arrived at the North East Highway and turned to the left, and then realized we had made the initial turn south too early as we were coming upon once again, the small Thorpe known as Ditch.

We decided to go around it, giving the town a wide berth and then eventually found mile marker 5 where we had seen it before. From here we took the side road north to the 5 manorhouses that had not been used for a few years – except for the 4th one – Ixitch’s. In the just post dawn air, the ground was cool, the air cool and moist, and there was a layer of fog on everything.

We detoured to the left and off the road and peered through the gate seeing no one walking around. Shim drew out a scroll of Wall of Fog and intoned it, reading off the words as they boiled away and he sprung up a wall of vapors, 5’ thick, 10’ tall, and 70’ long that stretched in a faint curve from the gate to the front door of the manor!

We ran to the gates and Will Murder unlocked the new lock and chain easily, the wall hid us from the zombie head, and we arrived at the door without issue. We went to the right of the door and saw about 2 dozen rectangular divots in the ground, most about 3” deep. Not sure where they came from or what they were about, we wanted to instead turn our time and attention to getting inside and moving through as fast as we could.

Once again Will went to the door, and we managed to get it open…And Bad Tom went in, rolling and sweeping his sword, and then dodging to the left. No one was inside the place at the entrance, but we did see a half-ogrish Zombie standing there. With an armful of cheap clay plates.

And shit…he dropped them. The noise echoed through the place at the same time that Shim dropped a globe of darkness over the zombie AND blocking the door and the hall! Nice. So this meant we went to the left double door and the group high tailed it down there fast.

Once inside and before the zombie could get to us, we went to slam the door closed and Brading took a bracing bar to block it up – meanwhile we faintly heard voices getting closer. Just before it happened, Thalin fired off a summon monster spell and a Troglodyte appeared! He gave it the command to “fight” and the door closed as the reptilian drew out his bone spear and charged into the dark. With the door closed we took quick stock of the place.

Hall, dirty carpet, wooden bench with ratty cushion. Closed door on the north wall, double door on the end hall, 2 pedestals with dwarven busts upon it. Alright. Barb and Tom were going to push our way in to the next room while we took the bench and placed it in front of the lone single door. Meanwhile though the doors behind us we could hear yelling and snarling and fighting.

Barb hit the door just as it was opened and we saw two humans armed with flatbows and a mastiff hound! Whew! Fight was on. And with 9 to 3- it was an easy hold for the party to force the enemy back and pick them apart, especially after Barb raged and body slammed one of the back to crash against the far wall and rain preserves down as well and fall against an open brine barrel 1/3 filled with pickles.

Nice.

More double doors to the north, stairs going up to the south. Shim and Brading checked it out and after climbing the turn, saw the trap door above was closed and braced in place – no chance of anyone getting in that way. Meanwhile the group was putting more hurt on the defenders when just as it was about over and we pushed into the next room that two more mastiff’s leapt in from beyond the next chamber and Barb took the impact.

She was savaged for a bit before the rest of the group was able to come to bear and help her hold off any further damage from the hounds. We finished THAT battle off before we heard a lone shambling undead coming our way also across the training grounds…stop…look at us and then detour around the side of the entrance. From there we watched it as it picked up a practice sword and stood by the door poised to strike.

Right.

So while Bad Tom and Shim were getting pickles and preserves, handing them out to the tired adventurers and Thalin and Brading were locking doors behind us as we kept going on, Else Ire and Barb dove through the door and made short work of the undead with a well delivered smattering of blows.

We found ourselves in the training yard, some practice dummies, saw horses, piles of bark, some stones for shotput practice, and tall posts. Also, lots of dog shit. A Large shed was in the northwest corner, we heard some noises like a horse coming from inside – the door was roped closed. A door on the north side of the place was closed and we heard nothing and 2 other doors on the south side of the place, one with rabbit shit around it, the other with a key in the lock. We guessed it was the other door that led back to the main entrance hall so we made sure it was locked and then roped the two doors together.

Meet 94, Adv 6, 8/17/19

The group had a miserable time just at the front door of the place as it was the enemy stronghold and they had been prepared for the party by almost 2 hours - one of my players did the math and the enemy did over 100 hp of damage to the party about 5 times the amount we had done to them. Location location location.

And then after they ran away, they were captured by a bad run of the wandering monster dice - 70 fucking hobgoblins.

Hahahah - holy crap - that did not go as planned.

Write up follows:

The group walked around the west side of the Manorhouse towards the front of Ixitch’s stronghold, noting the same sort of sparse narrow windows here and there and the lack of anyone milling about. We were confident the Invisibility to Undead spell was still working as the severed heads on spikes still made Brading’s skin tingle. The stables (that we could now see) were in poor condition, 2 of the 4 stalls had a fallen thatched roof upon their wooden supports. No steeds were visible.

There were three oversized trees through and at least a half dozen crows were perched on the branches and staring down at the party, cawing loudly as they shuffled from branch to branch. Darius was concerned that if this entire thing went south, we had no easy way to escape short of heading back to the wall and trying to climb over. So instead we went to the front gate and took a look. Chain and lock were newish but we figured on busting one of the links. Shim fired a ray of frost at one of the links and Barb used a crowbar to force one of the links open – allowing us the snake the chain off the gate and giving us a way to get out of here.

We went back the front door and decided that Barb was going to test it and if need be, slam it open. Thalin had his bow out, sleep spell at the ready, everyone else was set to shoot into the double wide entrance doors and then storm in but as the Half-orc barbarian was coming to the door she smelled lamp oil coming from the soggy ground in front of the place and she backed up quick.

The front area was set up to go on fire. She shuffled her feet a bit to get the residual oil off and the group discussed plans again, deciding this time to burn off the oil with a tossed torch and then force the doors open. Seemed like a good plan and we lit a torch, tilted it back to throw…

And someone inside the Manorhouse hit us with a Fireburst spell again. Barb was on fire and she fell to the ground rolling as Brading used a blanket to help put her out. The torch DID get tossed to the oil which was on fire and burning the area near the front door and we let it burn while healing Barb again. Brading let us know that his spells were dwindling and we were starting to think that this might be harder than we expected.

Barb took out her threaded rod and approached the front of the Manor house, stepping near the closest window (10” wide, 4’ tall, 2’ deep – homespun curtain obscuring view on the inside). She then stuck the rod through the window, snagged the curtain, and twisted it around and around until the curtain was wrapped around the rod and she pulled…ripping the curtain free and making one window less likely to have a mage hiding behind it.

By this time the two half-ogre zombies wandering around the place came towards the front of the building and then each one of them stopped…right in front of the doors to the Manorhouse and stood there staring out at us, but not seeing us. Ok, fuck, that was pretty smart for whoever was controlling them.

We needed to move them and it was thought that Brading would call upon Heimdall to turn the zombies away. So the dwarven priest stepped up, symbol presented before him, and called out to Heimdall for aid. And the Zombies rippled, twisted, and then with a breathy moan, turned and ran (fast shuffled) their way out of the area – splitting up as they tried to get away.

Ok, this was it, front door was clear – it was time. Thalin had bow out, spell at the ready for possible sleep, Darius had his sling, Shim was full of spells, Brading hand axe and holy symbol…And it was Barb forcing the door open.

Large entrance room, two double doors leading out of the place and a side corridor, three zombies just on the inside of the door, large harpy statue to the right of the door, and in front of each double door out of the entrance hall were three flabowmen each and one of the mastiff guard dogs.

And the quarrels flew. Barb was struck as the 18” shafts slammed through armor, knocked her down, and then over – killing her.

What the hell?!?!

Brading went to step forward to heal her as the three zombies stepped up, two of them tripping on her and breaking the spell, while the third swept around and was making a beeline for the dwarven cleric. The camp dog was let off the leach and CHARGED the group going to jump for Brading. Darius let his sling fly and slammed into one of the crossbowmen so hard he was tossed back and hunched over, hands wrapped around his midsection.

After a single volley the crossbowmen were already looking the head back OUT of the combat and through the double doors further into the manorhouse. To keep the camp dog off Brading Shim uncoiled his whip and slashed it at the dog who caught a painful wound and turned to leap upon the gnome sorcerer, bearing him to the ground and critically mauling him, ripping his face open from eye socket to ear and then TEARING his ear off the right side of his head! Darius and Thalin shot at the dog, weakening it and trying to keep it from killing the gnome.

And the two Zombies on Barb were STOMPING their feet down on the unconscious and dying Barb – breaking bones and trying to finish the job. Brading called to Heimdall and two of the three zombies turned tail and ran back into the keep and around the corner leaving just one who was making it his personal effort to get Barb to -10.

Darius tackled the zombie, driving it off of Barb which allowed Brading to try and heal her. Meanwhile Thalin fired off a magic missile and blasted the dog to death. Barb opened her eyes and tried to focus, Darius and the Zombie grappling with each other right over her head. She crawled a few paces to her threaded rod, grew ANGRY and raged, and then in a prone position, swung it with all her might at the zombie’s leg.

Shattering one of its shin bones and the undead ogre fell over bearing Darius to the ground with him. The fighter twisted and elbowed and shoved just breaking the grapple as he struggled away and we all drew shaky breaths. The undead zombie stood up and fell over, its leg not supporting itself, so it did it again and then started crawling towards us fairly adroitly.

Most of us badly hurt, almost no healing available, and we hadn’t even made it INTO the entrance hall yet, Darius suggested very strongly that we get the hell out of here and now. No one argued it and we double timed it to the gate, past the cawing crows and excited noises, and then to the main road when we went back to the Highway and made out way Southwest as quick as we could.

With nowhere else in mind to go to, the thought was to go to the farmstead we stayed at before and hoped to hole up there – but we were very convinced Ixitch could follow us and might already be doing so. One problem at a time. Once at the farmstead we went past the few chickens there and unlocked the place again. Inside we relaxed and Barb slipped back into exhaustion as the crossbow bolts were STILL IN HER BODY AS WE RAN.

We spent some time taking them out and Brading shared what healing he had left, potions were handed out, and we took stock of ourselves.

We got out ass kicked.

They knew we were there, we knew they were watching us, and they were well prepared for us to come in and rained all sorts of pain down on us. And what did they lose? 1 guard dog was slain and one zombie had its leg broken. This was not going to work for us and we needed a new plan to assault them.

But we couldn’t stay here. This was too close to their point of operation and with all the chicken outside and now crowded around the door (between hearing us, seeing us, and Barb feeding them bread under the door) this was not going to be a safe place for us to stay.

The decision was we’d sneak out the side window, head north for a bit and then west and get lost in the hills, finding someplace to hold up for a few days and then go back to Ixitch’s place and this time not screw around but just charge the front door before they have a chance to prepare for our attack.

Darius managed to open the window and once we all got outside, hurting and sore, we closed the window behind us, left the squawking chickens alone, and travelled north through the rough terrain and winter grasses. After 20 minutes or so we turned west and were lost in the foothills. Coming to a decent sized copse of pines we stopped to heal again, bind more wounds, and take stock of our situation. We were boned and needed a better base of operations. We were going to head more to the west and hopefully pick up a road and small town to stop out and then come up with a proper assault plan.

That didn’t happen either.

Not too much later that that as we were walking through the cold hills we crested the top of one and saw…a military encampment of dozens of tents, horses, and orderly lines of orange haired tall green skinned goblinoid figured.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.. Damn it.

We went to back away but our presence was noted and two sets of riders rode up to us spear and lances at the ready while another half dozen charged up the hill towards us, the tall hobgoblin leader sneering at us. He identified himself as Lieutenant Bloodtusk and branded us as spies. We were forced to drop weapons and shields, then we were escorted to a prisoner’s wagon where a half orc named Dwarlow was, pretty beaten up and was going to be prisoner of the Bloodtusks for the next 2 years for mouthing off to them.

The Bloodtusks were going to take their assault against a local orcish tribe that had raided the hobgoblin’s cave system earlier this year (no, not the Wolf Skull Orcs) – and it was thought we were working for them. Hobgoblins HATE elves and gnomes so it was best that Thalin and Shim say nothing. They left us alone for a few hours until they came back and demanded to know who was in charge. Whoever was in charge is responsible for the group – including punishment. So who was it?

Darius didn’t understand the language, so that left Brading and Barb to talk – and Barb was pretty wounded. The Bloodtusks were convinced that the two of them were NOT friends as dwarves and orcs don’t get along and suspected a ruse. But when Brading stepped up as the person to be in charge, he was pulled from the wagon, stripped of everything except pants, and was told he WAS going to get 10 lashes – but he had to work for the Bloodtusk’s first – digging latrine trenches. A job for a slave, not a hobgoblin warrior.

We watched him being led away and were growing very concerned now. What was to happen next? If Thalin or Shim did ANYTHING magical they would just be killed out of hand and we figured to lay low for now.

At that point one of the shaman Irilius and his followers came, called out for a detection, and took note of what items the party had on them that were magical. But the shaman looked at Shim and had the gnome dragged out of the wagon and stripped. They took his potion of flight and the shaman and Shim talked – inside a circle of solace as well as a zone of truth. And Shim was forthcoming. The Shaman was a good listener and came to the realization that the group was NOT aligned with the orcs and were actually a fairly good aligned force. It wasn’t exactly said but the Shaman paid close attention to the idea of Scratch and seemed to be disturbed at its implications and how it would affect other orcs.

Eventually he made the call that Shim and his group would be given the benefit of the doubt and would let the Lieutenant know that they could be trusted. But Shim still had to take 5 lashes. Um…what?!?!?

The gnome was held in place and was whipped 5 times across his own back until he passed out from the pain. And then tossed back in the wagon. The gnome was whipped…with his own whip. And the Shaman took it.

Then as for Brading, he had finished the job and then was taken from camp where the Lieutenant told him he was to be whipped. BUT – according to the Shaman and his advisors, the group’s presence was most likely guided by Maglubiyet, the goblin god. So here was the deal – if Brading could take 10 whippings and NOT pass out, the Bloodtusk clan would better equip his group AND lend them 4 of his warriors to help assault the Ixitch Homestead.

If he could not, then they would be kept for a year and a day and then set free, but still better equipped at that time.

Brading took the deal. The dwarf took lash upon lash, held in place as the whip crisscrossed his flesh. As he grew weaker he called on Heimdall twice to heal him and hopefully remove the painful wounds – and then it had been 8 lashes and he was tottering in agony but still awake. He was given a chance to commute his final whippings to Barb – but he refused. Then he was given an opportunity to just have Thalin killed outright as a commute – and again he refused.

The last two whippings fell…and they were just very light hits on the dwarf.

The Bloodtusks were impressed with Brading’s refusal to break himself and pass further injury to his people. He was told he would be considered a Corporal to the Bloodtusks and they were going to spend the next three days getting better outfitted and introduced to the 4 warriors that were going to go with them back to Ixitch’s homestead.

Meet 93, Adv 6, 8/10/19

Chickens.

Somewhere around Canaslan, there is a large area dominated by wild free range angry aggressive chickens. They have grown to larger than normal size and have hunting tactics that remind one of Velociraptors. And the group made the mistake of encountering a few of them, thinking they were going to get a fast meal.

Did...not...happen.

Hardened adventurers ran for their life from the chicken mob, and as the DM, it was the best decision they could make. :)

Write up follows:

The group wanted to get ready to leave and we split up, Shim and Brading went to the public well to fill the water skins while the rest of the party went to the provisioner to gather food. Shim did note that at least 1 of the 2 that had been watching the group earlier was watching us again here, being on line a few places behind Brading. And further, he also noted a frantic looking stringy dwarven female come charging into the town square and have an animated conversation with one of the guards. She gave an animated description of a number of people who Shim felt looked too much like us, talked about an assault on two members of the town, and eventually placed a large amount of coins in the guard’s hands.

The guard then went to another one and the two of them went up to the parapet on either side of the main gate, heavy flatbows loaded, and proceeded to look over the crowded town square.

Fuck – 2 sets of problems.

Shim made the mistake of mentioning to Brading to hurry up as we were being watched which had the dwarven priest grow furious and blame the guy behind him on line of spying on us (the wrong guy!). While this was going on, the rest of the group had come back to the town square and seeing Shim’s waving hand and eventual pantomiming to wait – Thalin stepped out to talk to Shim while Barb and Darius went to the street merchants and got roped into a conversation about potatoes with one of the sellers.

Thalin and Shim shared information and we had to get out of town, through the only gate being watched, but NOT as a group as our combined descriptions will tip off the guards. What to do, what to do…

Bum fight was the solution.

Through a number of deceptions and some well placed smatterings of coins given to the local down trodden we cycled through the gates in 3 sets as Town Square degenerated to at least a dozen men fighting over a number of coins and the local guards and merchants taking odds on the outcome.

Once outside we decided NOT to walk right to Ixitch’s Manorhouse and instead pretend we were heading back to Erylond. It was a good call because one of the tails who had followed us out made sure we were heading back for home for a good 10 minutes before heading back to Paxian.

From there we travelled overland north through harvested fields and furrowed lands, and then east again after some distance until we crossed the Canaslan Northern Byway and then eventually the Canaslan Northeastern Highway – a muddy and rutted patch of raised puddly dirt almost 25’ wide stretching off into the distance.

We were on our way.

As we traveled down the highway, we passed more of the questionable homes and pseudo-poverty that seemed to define Canaslan. The people though were happy and each town we went through was smaller and a bit dingier than the next. We had broken for meal and pressed on, watching the mile markers count upward. Just before mile marker 5, we came up the smallest and last hamlet of hovels; a group of miserable homes in a place called Ditch, and commented the place was aptly named.

Getting close we were going to camp for the night and assume that Ixitch and company would be celebrating the new years – hoping to find a barn or farm we could use. In an effort to further our stores, we did note a number of free ranging wild chickens in the area. Feeling good about the prospects of fresh chicken, Darius loaded a stone and let fly…

Thud. The bird pitched over and fell, got up, flapped around and then died. The other half dozen chickens in the area all stopped and stared at the dead bird, and then as one – back at Darius. They took a few steps towards us, heads bobbing as he casually loaded up another stone, whirl whirl whirl…THWOCK! Took the head off another one! It ran about half a dozen steps and fell over spurting blood dead.

At this point the remaining 4 chickens all started clucking and “bokking” rhythmically and tilting their heads back. And from the tall winter grasses around us – other answering chicken calls came. Like, a lot of them.

Ok..this was getting weird. We started to move on down the road as the chicken closest to us suddenly picked up speed and started chasing us. Just as almost THIRTY over sized chickens burst from the grasses and bushes around – coupled with TWO of the largest roosters we had ever seen. And they were all hissing and clucking and RUNNING towards us with avian fowl hatred in their eyes.

Fuck… The party ran.

We ran hard and fast, heading for an abandoned farmstead not too far from here, trying to make it to the barn. Meanwhile the chickens were gaining ground on Shim and Brading, the two of them the slowest in the group. Shim dropped a darkness spell behind us causing the pursuers to roll into the globes and lose some momentum and others to circle around it. It was getting closer as he hit the farmstead and Barb, Thalin, and Darius tried to get the barn door open in time. The chickens were getting closer and closer. Finally it was open and the 5 of us ran in and slammed the door closed behind, barring it as 30 plus angry oversized chickens tried to force their way in. We latched the back door to the bard and Brading took care of the loft door.

They continued to beat at the door for almost 5 minutes before eventually slowly fading away. We opted to wait almost an hour before daring to open the door and making our way to the house. The shutters were closed and the door locked. Using a javelin, we managed to pry the bar aside from the outside and entered. It was a peasant’s hut, dusty from lack of use. Some food stuffs had dried and rotted, and there was faint sweet odor from the huts only other room. Inside we saw two figures in the bed, dead for the better part of a year, an elderly couple fingers entwined with one another. As a show of respect we covered them with a blanket and shut the door.

From the kitchen we lit a fire and ate our meal, boiling some potatoes and getting ourselves ready to rest. We wanted to sleep and early in the morning, head off the Ixitch Barrowman’s Demesne and Manorhouse and reconnoiter first if at all possible.

After a long night we awoke early, broke our fast, and before we had left, Brading had cast Invisibility to Undead on the group. It would have no effect on the living – but we had to remember three things that would end it: an aggressive action against an undead, the passage of four hours, and the willing end of the spell if need be. In addition, if you allowed an undead to walk into you, it would also break the spell.

We left the farmhouse, closed the door and locked it, and making sure no chickens were around us, we finished our walk past mile marker 5, only a short distance now from the border of Grimyria. Following Gerry Rockbottom’s directions, there was a side road that led north to at one point was supposed to be a haven for the wealthy new landowners of Canaslan. However, the location never took off and the homes had been left to fall fallow.

Ixitch was ensconced and owned the 5th Manorhouse – a walled in area about 4 acres total, with only 1 double wide gate in and out. We walked by slowly and looked in. The Manorhouse was stone construction, at least 12’ tall and had a crenellated wall that ran along the top of the structure. A stables was to the right but was a bit out of view for us. No large windows, the grounds were overgrown and had three very large trees where at least half a dozen fat crows was cawing in and watching us. A spike was near the gate on the other side, a severed orc’s head was planted on top. The faintest tingle let Brading know that the Invisibility to Undead Spell was working as we passed in front of the orc’s head – someone was “watching” us through the dead skull.

We kept going past to the next homestead and picked through the wall. The property here was worse than the other side, and we followed the wall perimeter northward the full length to the end. The wall on Ixitch’s side was solid and unbroken. The top of the wall (8’ or so) also had busted glass mortared in place to further prevent anyone climbing over. Finally at the top of the wall along the BACK of the homestead was another severed orc head on a pole. Watching back here as well.

We heard the cawing of a crow and hid along the wall, hunched down in the scrub as a fat black crow flew up and circled around for a while before heading back to Ixitch’s side. Ok – we assumed both the stationary undead head and the crows were the watching warning for Ixitch’s people – Necromancer and probably Druid.

The group went to the house here on this Homestead to get out of sight and to see if there was a tunnel running between the two properties. It was almost an hour of looking before we accepted the fact that there wasn’t any. The thought was to climb over the wall, scout the place out, and make our way to the front door.

But when we left the place and went to the wall to look over (Barb) – we noted there were at least 2 large mastiff guard dogs in the area. A mass of salami and cheese in a ball of bread was thought to be given to the dogs to make them pliable but we didn’t want to risk it.

Then it was 9:30 and we heard the ringing of a bell at the front of the Homestead and the dogs’ with the ears perked up ran for the front. Breakfast bell. It was time to climb. Barb went over first, blanket draped across the glass, and one by one, the party went over the wall until finally we pulled the blanket down and took stock. Overgrown grounds, sparse trees, building – seems quiet. We went up the building’s walls and decided to walk around the back of the place first. What few windows we did see were narrow, 4’ tall, curtained from the inside, and deeply set in the stone almost 2’ – no chance of us using them to get in.

Around the back of the building we proceeded about until we came to an overgrown and choked herb garden – where a variety of plants were growing – including Lion’s Leaf and Eye Bright. We continued exploring, going south now and then heard something coming through the tall grasses. Dog? No – a half-ogre zombie plodding along. 8’ tall, 400 plus pounds – it wandered north and our invisibility held as it passed  - went beyond the herb garden and then turned sharply to the left and continued in that direction and out of sight.

A little further south just before the stables one of the narrow windows gave us the sounds of men (and women?) eating breakfast and laughing. Ok – kitchen area here on the east side of the building.

We wanted to get in and figured with no other doors visible – we’d have to entice them to come out. The thought was to go to the herb and drug garden and burn it. But the plants were green so we’d need to use oil to get it to light. Darius and Barb stayed by the garden to prepare it with oil and rags, while Brading, Thalin, and Shim when back around the side of the building and to the first large alcove to hunker down and hopefully surprise the bad guys when they came out.

It didn’t go to plan.

As Darius was getting ready to light the place on fire, oil and rag everywhere, he had a torch lit when something went terribly wrong and the fire in his hand EXPLODED. It then caught the oil on fire and he was suddenly engulfed in flames as he tried to roll around to put them out. Barb ran out to tackle him and drag him back to the building when crossbow bolts were shot and she was hit. They staggered towards the building as more flatbows fired, hitting the two of them again and then a trio of magic missile flew out and scored Darius just as they made it to the building – both of them bleeding hit points.

Had to go and meet up with the rest of the group and now. – They were hurting but ran east along the building’s edge while from above they could see two, maybe three figures peering over trying to get another shot in at us. Another magic missile went off and Darius was going to run OUT from the wall and sling up there while Barb went into berserker rage and tried to climb the wall.

Meanwhile the rest of the group saw TWO ogrish zombies coming along – still unable to see us, but they could hear some sort of problem going on around the corner. Brading snuck the edge and the Shim and Thalin know the two friends were bleeding badly and Barb was climbing up to some figures up there on top.

Thalin and Shim then drew scrolls and stepped back, pointing to the roof and each of them called out a summon monster spell – one ended up was a gnoll wielding a two handed sword and the other with a goblin sporting a sling. And then Barb was up there just as Darius sling bullets one of the crossbowmen. Two crossbow men and a mage type.

Excellent.

Barb changed one of them and proceeded to beat him to death and then lift him overhead and HURL him off the building. One dead. The gnoll ran towards a crossbowman who dropped his flatbow and had his sword out – but the gnoll was stronger and the battle was on. The goblin kept firing sling stones in the combat, whittling hit points away. Brading ran to Darius to heal the wounded fighter and Barb chased one of the men who tried to make it to a trap door to escape but failed.

The combat on the roof ended after this and Barb tried to hack the trap door open but it was too thick and well made and although she jammed the gnoll’s sword through the crack – she couldn’t open it up.

As the summoned monsters faded away we all gathered again and doled out some healing, taking into account what happened and that they know where here even if the zombies can’t respond to us. This was it, we were going to the front to bust the door open and take the fight to Ixitch and his men.

Meet 92, Adv 6, 8/3/19

The group managed to get the information they needed through a variety of decent encounters on Gerry Rockbottom and eventually Ixitch Barrowman. According to all our gathered intel - Ixitch is the Drug Dealer for Scratch and it pivotal in the destabilization of Durcent Province. However, the drug manufacturer is someone we know only as Big GO - and to get to him, we need to get to Ixitch first.

We know that Ixitch is in a former manorhouse pretty close to the border of Grimyria and he has a number of guards and supporters at his fingertips. Right now though we have surprise as no one knows we're coming as of yet and hope to catch Ixitch ill prepared.

We'll see how that goes.

Write up follows:

Being that it was almost 4 and we had some time, Darius wanted a chance to try and get a name from Wantan the Smith on a possible owner and/or rider of the heavy war steed. So changing into his courtier clothes and adopting a more imperious manner he headed off to the street of smiths and found his way to the common stabler. He started off talking to some of the stableboys who were uncomfortable with an apparent lord and passed him on to the stablemaster.

There was some banter back and forth where Darius indicated that he was Isilwine Goldsmith (his younger sister Twilane’s betrothed) and wanted some information on “better steeds than what’s here.” The conversation moved about while Darius drove it towards war steeds and where could he get one. Who has one? Is it for sale? Give me a name. Eventually he got the name of Sir Berwick Ironbrand and his band of mercenaries (4 or 5 of them). Thanking the stablemaster and getting word that Sir Berwick occasionally comes to Canaslan but has had more steady work with Lord Emberwine of Emberia.

Eventually we left and after sharing what we learned, a stop at the Chamberpot Ogre named Rutus (stationed near the Farrier) then led us to getting some smaller coin. Near Whiteshadow was a money changer named Dangrel who was willing to exchange gold for us in his shop. It was a one on one basis, through locked door and under guard and ready. Taking 3% for himself, he made the swap for the party and by just shy of 5 PM, we were set and ready to go.

Heading back to the Malters, we noted that it was getting late and many places were closed for now. Gerry Rockbottom’s was the same. Following Barb’s lead, we went on to the last Malter’s, where the 3 dwarves were willing to give her some work, half a sandwich, and some information earlier. We spoke to them, they shut the doors behind us and a group of 5 dwarves, all related, of the family name Copperpot, then filled us in on Gerry Rockbottom and his operation.

The dwarves aren’t a fan of Gerry but he is a dwarf, so they did share some information with us about the man and his goings on. He does answer to an Ixitch Barrowman who is a well placed functionary on King Seljack’s Brute Squad. Seems Ixitch also moonlights as a drug dealer and Gerry is one of his pushers. So when Barb dropped Ixitch’s name, it freaked Gerry out since effectively she gave him some bullshit that his boss directed her to see Gerry to buy Scratch – a claim that made no sense and caused Gerry to close up shop earlier.

We were still being watched and the Copperpot dwarves were willing to let us go down into the sewer and crawl along to a safe area near town square. So we parted with 3 crowns and left, getting under the city streets where some foot and a half of foul water met us in the 5’ diameter brick tunnel. A box was passed down for Shim to ride in and we were told to go four junctions and then climb up, knocking 3 times and then again to alert the Chamberpot HalfOgre Segan to let us out of the building.

We made our way down after stripping off shoes, hose, and even pants, rolling up cloaks, and then walking (and pushing Shim) through the foul mess. Barb, Thalin, and Brading were choking and feeling ill but we counted off 4 junctions and then climbed up to a covered grating where it took some time to force it open. We emerged into an unused shop, some dust around. One by one we came out and taking the box with us, laid it near the returned grating. From outside we could hear faint voices and the lack of light let us know that it was now evening.

We knocked 3 times, paused, and then again. And ogrish voice answered with exaggerated care that he just needs to stretch and then worked a key in the lock and told us to come out. We hid behind his spread trench coat and then he made believe that we had all come out from his chamberpot together.

The guards nearby didn’t care and knew that Segan was lying – but let the half-ogre think he was putting one over on them and we thanked the half ogre who locked the door again, was happy to be doing work for the Copperpot dwarves, and gave us directions to a bathhouse and launder not too far from the Winsome Wench.

Leaving a trail of dirty water behind us we arrived at the bathhouse, and arranged for 5 baths – triple time for each. We even had our clothes left here for laundering with the knowledge they were to be returned to us at the Wench later. One by one we went into the narrow tub filled rooms and started scrubbing.

Barb was relaxing and then a garrote wrapped around her throat and a voice hissed in her ear that she should stop asking questions about Ixitch and her and her flunkies “should toddle back to Erylond and beat up dungeon trash” instead. A pin prick at her jugular and the voice nearby had her unmoving and waiting. The man told her she had until tomorrow and then they would get nasty. Giving her an ultimatum, he told her to not move for a count of five or the last thing she’d see would be her blood fountaining in the bath.

The pinprick left but the garrote stayed and she counted to 5..then 10. Then with slow care lifted her hand to the braided cord at her throat and pulled it away freely. A pair of wooden handles had been wrapped together and the weight let her think there was still a person holding it. She looked out in the hall…No one there.

As we all got dressed in our second set of clothes, Barb showed us the garrote and the pinprick on her neck, the group interested in that someone was looking to drive us off. We were exhausted and wanted to solve the issue sooner rather than later, so we went off to the Winsome Wench, ate quickly, and then grabbed a room. Once there we made sure to bar the door (as recommended to!) and had to suffer through a newbie thief trying to pick our door and being chased away, then some guy selling insurance to make sure no one tries to pick our door again, then the laundry being delivered but the young man dropping it off getting body slammed for disturbing our door from the insurance tough and eventually by 8 that night we fell asleep.

The next day was Spirit Month the 30th – New Year’s Eve. Tonight there would be merriment and revelry, signaling the start of the New Year and the first day of winter. Many businesses were going to be closed early today, or just closed at all. Gerry Rockbottom was most likely going to be closed and we wanted his address.

So Thalin and Darius went back to the Malter’s to talk to the Copperpot Dwarves to get the last bit of information of Gerry…and it was some serious back and forth between Thalin and Drang Copperpot who didn’t want Gerry permanently hurt. At all. He’s still a dwarf and a scumbag, but still a fellow dwarf. So we did eventually get the address and learned he had a young daughter living with him as well. There are 2 guards always on duty who watch the house but don’t live with him – so don’t screw around – or you’ll be seen and the guards are NOT pushovers.

By 9:30 we had gotten together again and made our way to the cul-de-sac that Gerry lived on – 3rd house from the right. No one seemed to be watching but we assumed we had a small window of time at best. So Shim went first, taking Darius’ “cat pillow” he had taken from his mom’s house months ago, and spoke to Gerry’s daughter through the door. Dad was sleeping, normally you have to come back when he’s up. Ooo, you’re gnome? That’s a nice pillow. Maybe a little bit. I don’t know. Maybe.

We got her to open the door and then rushed her. Gerry’s daughter, Flea…was a hellion. Twisting and biting, she stabbed at Darius’ leg, bit Barb fingers, and tried to twist, pull, and force herself back. Brading dropped a silence spell on most of the house so all her yells were for nothing and eventually we had her bound up and dumped in a large sack that Brading tied closed and Barb was holding on to.

Then two of us went back to Gerry’ bedroom where he had 2 alarm bells near his headboard. While neutralizing one, the other slipped off and was going to ring but Barb grabbed it quick. Then it was “wake up time” and questioning. Where was Ixitch? Wouldn’t tell us. Ixitch was getting upset because he owes Big GO, but Big GO hadn’t gotten in touch with him to set up exchange of funds. Darius dropped Isilwine’s name again as his own and indicated they were from Big GO, looking to collect. Where was Ixitch? WHERE?!?!?!

Eventually after some beating we got a bearing on where Ixitch was and we Gerry a sobbing broken mess with the instructions to talk to no one and to count for a long time before daring to get up.

Where did we have to go? Ixitch has a Homestead near mile marker 5 near the border of Grimyria. Ugh. It was 10 after 10 and we were going to leave town NOW and take the fight to Ixitch Barrowman.

Meet 91, Adv 6, 7/20/19

The party made their way to Paxian since being in or near Durcent Province was going to get them caught, lynched, and killed. While here they were following the clues on various things - the origin of the scratch, the name of the person with the heavy warhorse, and the trail of the 2 gnomes.

There was lots of LARPing at the table and they are proceeding accordingly to uncover the mystery and who's who in this entire mess.

Write up follows:

It was after 8 PM when we made the decision to leave Durcent Province behind us for now and get to Paxian. We assumed that Fersic and some of the vigilant mob might follow us but not too far we hoped through the Wyld. We estimated it was 9 hours minimum hard walk through the rough terrain to get to the Canaslan and we were going to be tired before arriving. According to an overland map we had, there was a large forested area between our location and Paxian and we would be pushing to get there and rest.

The night passed with slow methodical passage as the miles fell behind us. With an almost full moon and cold crisp air (it was in the high 20’s), we kept our cloaks tight about us and our eyes peeled as we traveled. Numerous innocuous wild animals abounded but it was some time after midnight that we espied some torches in the distance traveling southward and then eventually turned to intercept us. A voice from the gloom called out and asked to come and meet.

We agreed and stepped forward to see a tall thin man with a pair of zombies trailing behind him, mindlessly shuffling along. He identified himself as Karius, a “Scavenging Functionary” from Grimyria on an expedition to locate any recently fallen dead and have them animated and brought back with him. He admitted he had about a dozen at this time (we saw 2) and his two apprentices as well.

We kept it light and friendly and we all bid each other a farewell. We watched as his apprentices came up – a late teen’s thin girl with a line of 9 more assorted races zombies on a chain, and a corpulent also late teen’s boy in a set of robes too small for him, sweating even in the chill air, leading a snarling ghoul on a 6’ iron pole and chain set up that kept the carnivorous undead out of biting range.

Yeah…we were never going to go to Grimyria if we could help it.

It was another hour before we arrived at the forest and once there, spent a short time clearing the ground and gathering together for warmth. Rotating for watch we rested until the sun was peeking over the horizon and we could get moving. Shaking the cold from our bones we skipped out on study and prayer for now and were walking again by 8 AM. It was after 11 when we crossed the border into Canaslan – the temperature climbing at least 10 degrees instantly, and another half hour to reach Paxian.

We cycled through the main gates, and hit up the Half-ogre at the square to use his chamber pot as well as ask a few questions. Shim and Thalin did most of the probing, dropping hints of gnomes and where one could go to see others? We were told to go to Winterwarm, a bar on the east side of town that catered to gnomes, elves, and gnomes.

We made our way through Whiteshadow and followed directions to the smaller tavern and inn. We were treated well if a bit surprised that Barb and Brading were willing to come in. But we ordered a signature wine, ate some food, and probed the bar tenders and patrons about other gnomes and possible information.  There are two gnomish brothers, traders who do come and stay here in town for a week or so before moving on and returning again, doing some manufacturing before going out to sell their wares. Malik “Malted” Dingrel Falser, and Yultar “Uke” Dingrel Falser. And it was believed that at least one of them was Tower Trained.

Bingo.

We had some other places to look. Barb was going to go to another Half-Ogre Chamberpot warden named Maro that she had spoken to our last time here and see if she could get some information on Scratch. The rest of the group was going to go to the Greengrocer and then to the Stablers and Farriers to see if they could scare up some information from Wantan, the dwarven Farrier who most likely was shodding the heavy warhorse seen in Durcent Province – and hopefully get a name.

Barb’s visit to Maro was productive. There was a dwarf named Gerry Rockbottom who operated out of a Malters to the south west of Whiteshadown, that had been pushing Scratch as of late. When he started to talk about Scratch and some of its effects, Barb was under the impression he was going to segue into the dangers of it, but instead he had a Half-Ogre’s way of thought and suggested it was a great idea if she wanted to partake. It would give her a gravitas, a commanding presence, and with her size and ferocity, could seriously impact and influence orcish males to her way of thinking.

Ok….then! She thanked him and made her way to the area in question. There were a half dozen malters in the area and one of them had a 3 count of half-orcs working outside. She had asked for directions to Gerry’s and was told to either pay up, or hit the bricks. Not getting any closer, the dwarves next door asked her to give those guys a berth and for a small pile of coins, they’d help her out if she’d move a pallet of block stone from the back of the shop to the front. She put the effort in and was sweating it out while lining up the courses under proper direction, all the while the dwarves were advising her to just not bother with Scratch or any other drug and go on home.

For the rest of the group, they purchased a few days of travel rations and then made our way to a horse dealer and pretended to be interested in making a purchase. We were guided to many draft style horses and were shown a decent sized nag for the cost of 200 nobles. Ouch. But we talked to the proprietor (an orcish descended individual named Regahn) and let the conversation meander a bit, guiding it naturally along until we got to smiths and farriers and shoeing the horses.

We were then introduced to Wantan Smith, the dwarven farrier who would take care of our new horse purchase for us. We talked about his job, saw his forge, watched some of his apprentices work, and the conversation then turned to his master and other jobs he’s done. Knights and their steeds? He admitted he’s done heavy war steeds but in the interest of professional decorum, wouldn’t say any names.

We let the conversation end and thanked him, promising Regahn we’d get back to him and then started making our way out of the Farrier district and towards the Malters to meet up with Barb.

Barb meanwhile had finished her work, got paid and thanked by the dwarves, and was told that Gerry Rockbottom was in the Malted shop next door (where the half-orc toughs were hanging out). She went there, stared down the mouthy one who had bothered her earlier, and was guided back to meet with Gerry Rockbottom. Gerry was a thin strung out looking dwarf with poo hygiene and a furtive look about him. Two brutes with flatbows and axes were guarding him as Gerry and Barb were talking.

Gerry was loathe to just sell Scratch to Barb. Who was she? How did she know his name? He wanted some questions answered and didn’t know or trust her. Not wanting to the half-ogre Maro’s name involved, she thought about who she could mention and on the note we found from the gnomish Satchel that Ranger Thog had gotten for us before his death, and said Ixitch Barrowman had guided her to him, as it seemed to be the name of the person who owed Big G O money.

This set Gerry off who was freaking out, claiming that he was NOT getting involved with this. Barb was trying to back pedal the conversation when Gerry slammed his travel case closed and stormed out the back door of the malters, the two guards blocking her from going after him. She could hear Gerry through the alleys cursing and complaining and she was informed by the guards that “Gerry was not interested in doing business at this time. Leave.”

She left and realized that she was being shadowed and watched from various alleys as she left the malting district and joined up with her friends. They all eventually went to the Winsome Wench where they shared what they had learned, ate and drank a bit, and were thinking about their next move. It was a quarter to 4 at this time on Spiritmonth the 29th and we were thinking of heading back to the Malters and see if Gerry had returned and maybe try talking to him as a group.

Meet 90, Adv 6, 7/13/19

The adventure has moved on to the next phase where the group is REMOVED from the location as they have been implicated in the murder of the Province's Ranger and the rule of Mob has been taking over more of the people's way of thinking.

They are on the path to hunt down either the drug supplier OR whoever has been poisoning the people of Durcent Province - and it might be the same group.

Write up follows:

For the rest of the group, we woke up around 7:30/8ish and milled about as Thalin returned with breakfast he had gathered at the Tavern. There was a problem in Durcent Province and it was growing. Most of the populace had heard about last night’s orc raid and our actions during it. They also learned about the prisoners taken and the fact that 4 of them were led out of town early.

Fersic had been about, talking long and loud about his efforts and those of the groups. Some of the naked racism of the people was coming to the forefront that this had gone on long enough and if the orcs weren’t going to be swayed by talk and treaties – then maybe hanging 5 of them would do the trick.

This was swelling larger and a bit out of control as most of the people headed back to their homes to get rope and scythes, let their neighbors know, and then head off to the Manorhouse and try to get Sir Durcent to give up the orcs to face a speedy public trial and hanging. By the time Thalin returned with the information and we had eaten, there was already 30 or 40 people milling about the walls of the Manorhouse of which the gates were uncharacteristically closed.

We arrived and tried to talk the crowd down having partial success. Fersic was alternatingly our biggest cheerleaders and working at cross odds against us. In front of much of the townsfolk, Darius grew cross with Fersic and his rabble rousing and PUNCHED the acting Sheriff in the face, telling his to know it off. Fersic Gregson gave the fighter a wary gaze and eventually led the remaining hanger ons away to the tavern – looking back often at the group with a grim grin.

We had an audience with Sir Durcent who had called out his entire staff, guardsmen, maids and valets to help man the grounds and try to keep the people from rushing the gates and getting in. We went to see the Fire Champion and other 4 orcs who were being watched by the half-orcish scullery boy since everyone else was out trying to keep the townsfolk OUT. To the Wolf Skull Orcs credit, they made no attempt to escape and spoke only highly of the simpleton’s skill at keeping them imprisoned, making his smile happily.

We went up to the main room and talked at length about the situation and eventually Ranger Thog Ranswaller, Sheriff Thurbarn Greensward, and our own Barb returned from their meeting with Chief Glamar and the Wolf Skull Orcs. One everyone was caught up we discussed options and we wanted to let the 5 orcs go, but not until tonight and not until the cover of darkness had fallen. The group would help squirrel the 5 orcs out of the Province and once returned to the Wolf Skull Orcs, they treaty would be in place of no raids and the orcs gone to follow the caribou herds within a 6 day period.

Thog and Sundar were going to look at possible places the mysterious rider on the war steed had gotten off to and if they found anything would let us know. As for the rest of us – the morning was just about gone and noon was around the corner. Thalin was going to stay here and go over the Tradesmaster’s journals to see if he can find anything and the rest of the group was going to head to the Tradesmaster’s house and see if they can find anything there.

As for the Tradesmaster’s House – it was in good repair, decent furnishings, and had the air of a place where a well to do tradesman would live and stay. We looked over the desks, lofts, cellar, living room, kitchen, and outside. One thig we did not was that the chimney did not taper as it ran up the wall, instead staying almost 4 and a half feet wide the entire length, although the flue section was a mere foot and a half. It took some exploring but we did find a section of stone that slid out and revealed a pocket drawer.

Within was a velveteen bag filled with silver and some gold, and a half dozen sheets of paper. Looking the paperwork over it was a trade set up with a smithy in Stivil for 30# of 10 penny nails to be produced and delivered to an Ixitch Barrowman in Paxian, Canaslan. The Tradesmaster and Deacon Burquin of Durcent Province were equal cosponsors of the trade and arrangement of the payment and material went through Durcent Province and happened almost 2 months ago.

30# of nails was 150 nails 10 penny sized give or take – and was a significant cost. We mulled it over and also came to the realization that most building was done with dowels, pegs, and mortar – nails were not a common item. But Scratch was administered with nails and we have what we thought was a link in the chain of it all. It also fell in with what the original Sheriff Auganus had been possibly following when he went to Stivil 2 months ago to look into possible smuggling – and then died of a mysterious heart attack that evening.

With the notes in place we went back to the Manorhouse to see what Thalin had found. The grey elf had noted that the Tradesmaster had been having a rough last 6 weeks according to his logs as many trades that had been set up had been marked as canceled or delayed due to the orcish raids. But on looking back and having the rest of the party come with their finding – it seemed that Deacon Burquin was cosponsor of 8-12 other trades during the course of the last year or so. All after going through the Tradesmaster.

Which had the group come to the conclusion that the Deacon would get information during weekly meetings and confessions with the various people, and if it seemed he could capitalize on it, would let the Tradesmaster know – who would set them up getting a cut of the profits and giving a finder’s fee to the Deacon.

With the poisoning deaths being Deacon, page, Deacon, Woodward, Tradesmaster, Constable – we think whoever was involved with either end of the last trade that the Tradesmaster had kept out of the journals regarding Scratch, was “cleaning house” of anyone who might know about it.

By 3ish we wanted to get some rest, knowing we were going to go out about 10, 11 or so tonight. So we went back to the crofter’s hut and rested.

Until there was a knock at the door @ 6:30. Sundar, Ranger Thog’s apprentice, was there, travel worn and dirty. Said that Thog needed to see the group and now, and needed it to be in a public place with lots of people. Found something about the rider and was at the Tavern right now. We gathered our things and joined the young man until we arrived there.

It was the height of dinner and the Common Room was packed, well over 100, maybe 120 people crammed together. Just about every seat was taken but through the crowd, Sundar pointed to the back two booths where Thog was sitting at one of them, waving at us to come join him, the half-orc looking around the room with exaggerated care.

As we pushed our way through the crowd, Darius leading the way, we were given the odd look, nod, smile, and grimace. We could hear Fersic talking loud, regaling some hanger ons with tales of the raid. As we got closer to the table, Thog seemed relieved to see us and waved us closer. Just before we got there, Shim thought he heard a gnomish voice in the crowd. Then there was the sound of broken crockery and everyone looked at a nearby press of people. Thalin felt something was amiss…but the distraction was enough to drag everyone’s attention for a split second.

Just in time to turn back and see Ranger Thog Ranswaller fall over dead right in front of Darius who still had his hand extended in greeting – Darius’ distinctive “D” ring dagger sticking out of the back of the Ranger’s skull.

The crowd grew ugly real fast, shout of shock and dismay. Shim and Thalin thought they heard hoofbeats out the back door, and ran down the short 6’ cramped corridor to emerge outside, stepping near a distinctive mess of thrown sulfur. Sulfur, in a pattern that the Sorcerer and Wizard identified as being part of a Push spell.

As they looked outside, in the gloom of the night to the east they could just make out a tall figure on a large war horse riding away and then gone.

Meanwhile inside the mood was getting ugly and Fersic was telling the group that they’ll just have to take Darius in “just to figure out what’s going on here” – giving the fighter the same rictus grin he gave him this morning right after Darius punched him in the face.

Fuck.

Sundar, taking the initiative, opened a potion vial from his waist and let it fall – filling the entire Tavern with a dense fog cloud and the crowd was yelling. Snatching the messenger bag off Thog’s table, he shoved Darius, Brading, and Barb ahead of him and out the back door to join Shim and Thalin and we all RAN off to our house – expecting to only have a few minutes before the angry townsfolk find us and take their anger and frustrations out against us for the wrongful death of the Ranger. And with Fersic, charismatic as he was, leading the mob – we expected no justice.

We grabbed the last of our belongings and ran to the east for 15 odd minutes until we were out of local Durcent Province and told Sundar to go to Sir Durcent and Sheriff Thurbarn – and let them know what happened. We decided to head south east to Canaslan and Paxian to hunt down the possible farrier there who would have shod the warhorse – and according to the messenger bag we had gotten, there was a person there named Ixitch Barrowman who was involved in the entire Scratch issue.

According to Sundar, he and Thog had come upon a homestead that was supposed to be empty but was being squatered by two gnomes who ran as Thog tried to apprehend them. One of them lost this bag with the intercepted note and Thog was convinced one or two of the gnomes was a spellcaster of some skill.

There are lots of moving pieces to this entire mess but the group is narrowing the issues down. The problem with the orcs is now out of our hands and we have to leave it behind and go to Paxian, find out what’s going on with the Scratch there and who is supplying the Orcs – and then use all that information to clear our name.

But we have to travel 8-9 hours through hostile territory at night with little cover and do it with what little food and water we have on our person as it is.

Meet 89, Adv 6, 7/6/19

The group had a chance to talk to a number of the orcs this game and had the chance to hear about the barbaric hunter/gatherer way of life from their point of view. Its things like this that I like and adds to the depth of the game. Almost 40 years in and there are still facets of this game that cam be turned over and explored.

For those that say a typical game has a short shelf life or they aren't getting anything out of it - I say bullshit.

Write up follows:

The group charged to the east but before getting through the middle clearing, they slowed down, the sound of orcs looting was fairly loud. We crept near the tree line and looked out. More orcs were here, many with flatbows scanning the woods, some inside, the cover of the woodshed and corner of the building being used. And STILL the whistle was blowing from the east. Time was of the essence.

The thought was Thalin and Shim would creep a bit closer and start firing spells, and when able, Brading would run off and provide a melee distraction. Barb and Darius would travel a bit further south and try to get in line with the buildings and make their attack there. However, while getting into place, Darius was spotted and flatbows started to sing out. Glancing at first, they continued to fire as Thalis was seen next. The elven fighter/wizard took a terrible shot and hid back behind the trees, Shim hanging behind Thalin for extra cover. Darius let a large chunk of spent crystal go fly, smashing one of the orcs in the hand. There was more calls from inside the house and MORE flatbows fired from inside!

Shim dropped a globe of darkness and Brading charged out into the globe in a straight line, hoping to close with the orcs there. Most bolts and stones sailed back and forth. The thwacking sound as they hit trees was like the steady beat of pounding stones and Darius kept waving his hands around trying to make himself the target.

Some of the orcs were filing out of the house but one of them jumped from the loft area, hit the ground at a roll, and ran towards Darius..REALLY fast. Barb tried to run up to intercept but the orc (we know guessed was the High Runner) closed the impossible distance in no time and swinging his hand axe, smashed Darius in the hand – breaking two of his smaller fingers. Barb was there, angry and raging, long pole swinging and the High Runner barely ducked in time. Magic Missiles weaved about, hitting orc flesh and from inside the crofter’s hut, an orc was telling everyone to go, go, go. Coup collected.

The orcs within combat let go and went to flee, Brading hitting one of the orcs hard and tripping him up. The orc then turned and grappled with Brading, the two of them rolling around. Other orcs were making a run for it and the High Runner broke free from his combat and ran, Darius and Barb giving chase but losing ground. From inside the hut came the strongest and largest orc we had seen, who stopped long enough to see that everyone else was making the run before turning to help the orc Brading was fighting – who had grabbed the dwarf by the beard with his teeth…and tore.

This infuriated Brading who was trying to break the orc’s spine with his hand axe. Thalin called a trio of stirges who arrived and started to assault the strong orc (the Fire Champion?) and was ignoring most of their attacks.

The battle ended, the Fire Champion happy his people got away. As he batted the stirges aside and crushed them without care, he agreed to come with us, immediately getting into words with Darius who wanted him tied up and the Fire Champion promising to feed the fighter his coil of rope. Instead we went off to the east to the fire where Fersic and his crew had two huts on fire – one being consumed, the other getting under control. One orc was here, dead, and the younger adjunct Sheriff was proud of their efforts.

We all helped put of the flames while Thalin tried to get the Fire Champion to understand what they did was wrong.

The Fire Champion believed differently, as did most of the orcs. This was a raid in retaliation to a dead orc in Durcent Township, slain their while under the flag of truce and parley. As with every raid, there was to be no loss of life – but trophies, blood, and tokens taken – to remind the humies that they exist at the orc’s largess – not the other way around. Thalin tried to get him to understand that to the humans, this was a real raid with life on the line – and not a series of gathered trinkets and points to establish standing in the tribe and maintain honor for the fallen dead.

It was a cultural divide at this point and Fersic didn’t help the situation, being racist as it was and crowing about the dead orc. Eventually was all reconvened and the Fire Champion was NOT going to let the dead orc touch the ground and once again promised great bodily harm on Darius if he dared to bind him. Barb offered to carry the body which was accepted and the party headed the 30- 40 minute trip back to Durcent.

Once there we went to the manorhouse where we were met by Sir Durcent and his staff. The orcs were placed in the dungeon (we had 8 raiders, the Fire Champion, and the dead orc). For our side most everyone was wounded and the Constable was dead. This was going to be a nightmare as the townsfolk were going to want blood for this raid and the orcs would want their people back without issue.

It was decided that Thurbarn, Thog, and Barb would head off to the Wolf Skull Tribe home and return HALF the captured prisoners with an agreement hopefully eventually to release the rest. With the Sheriff and the Ranger out of town for some time, Sir Durcent turned to Fercis and asked him to be acting Sheriff until Thurbarn’s return – which had the big Viking looking man grinning and happy to help out. There was lots of talk about our skills and Fersic seemed to think that he and Darius had a tighter bond that the fighter believed – but we made it through the very late night meeting without any further issue, went back to our house, and fell asleep.

Barb got up very early and left with the Sheriff and the Ranger and 4 tied up orcs. Even though the guards had been asked the night before to say nothing – there had been too many who knew about our efforts and the orcs we returned with. And too many early risers saw the group of 7 leave Durcent Province and head off to the orc lands.

The meeting with Chief Glamar, Sub-chief Fintok, and us went average at best. The orcs were ready to leave their “summer” home – seed had been planted and earth folded over. The caribou herds were about 2 days north of here and the tribe was anxious to be gone by week’s end. Just return our people and it’s over. The raid was authorized because the humies let an orc die in their town. During the raid a humie died and an orc died. It sucks, but it’s even and fair – so handshakes all around and move on.

Yeah…that wasn’t going to fly with the people of Durcent who were going to want blood and to make an example of the orcs who were captured. Glamar was adamant just release them. The best we could come up with was IF we release the 5 remaining orcs today – she will make sure there are no more coup raids for the rest of the week and they’d be gone in 5 or 6 days anyway. Best we could expect.

Sounded good to us so we left and headed back to Durcent Province hopefully with a deal for Sir Durcent.

Not to try and pull it off without the townsfolk getting wind of it and causing any problems.

Meet 88, Adv 6, 6/29/19

The party learned more information about the deaths today, getting their investigation moving along. However, we also are hitting the first of the some of the planned combat portions of the adventure and the goal is to meet the orcs and do so without killing any of them.

Write up follows:

The Orcs made their way back to the home they had been using and being watched by the citizenry, loaded up their ponies and war wolves and rode away to the north. Many of the townsfolk were glad to see them go, angry curses following them, others had a pensive look.

Through it all, Sundar and Thog were finding the best three hoof prints they could find and were going to make plaster molds. Many farriers have a mark of design to their shoes and we are hoping to eventually use a mold to identify the farrier who shod the heavy warhorse. And then use that information to find the person and where he might be.

We went back to our house and made sure the window and door were sealed, deciding to at least follow through with our plan by heading off to the Woodward’s cottage at the northern end of the province and talking to the two wards he supposedly had living there. It was a bit after 4 when we arrived on Spiritmonth the 27th and eventually the dutch doors were opened by a 20ish year old thin human male. He identified himself as Nagaf and motioned the other person in the hut to come out – an attractive blond young woman named Fain.

Nagaf became the Woodward’s ward about 4 years ago when his parents had died suddenly from a fever and he was alone with no one to help support him. Having no marketable skills, the Woodward took him in and over the last 2 years, officially apprenticed the young man to follow in his footsteps.

Fain was a similar situation as being helped by the Woodward. Some 9 months she was been beaten and left for dead in the woods by her lover/boyfriend. Nursed back to health, she has been here ever since cooking and cleaning for the Woodward and Nagaf.

They were aware of the Woodward’s predilections both sexual and deviant and even though they sometimes participated, it was never expected of them nor encouraged – in fact most of the time it was pushed aside to maintain the harmony of the Woodward’s home and keep the drama to a minimum. They do know that we had two visitors that night and neither of them participated nor interacted with the visitors. It sounded like the Woodward knew at least one of them and it was sometime after midnight that the liaisons left. The thought was he had washed himself from the basin in the kitchen and then went to sleep. He was been poisoned – lesions and sores and burns were about his genitals and anus area.

At first we thought he might have been introduced the poison directly but now we assumed it was added to the water or the washcloth – and when he “cleaned” himself up, got the poison that way. Brading did a detection and found a faint trace coming the basin – which led us to believe our theory.

It was after 5 and we had nothing new we wanted to ask, so bidding the two of them farewell after taking a short tour of the northern border of the Province, we headed back to the main part of the village and Tavern to get some dinner and a drink.

We talked to Fantil, the half-orcish proprietor and he gave us his thoughts on the situation being a half-orc and having some feels for the issue from both sides of the banner. He speaks for other similar like-minded people in Durcent province – there is sometimes a naked racism that most populace doesn’t even know they participate in. And although things with the orcish tribes have been peaceful – too many people are just willing to laugh at them and relegate them to “greenskins” and nothing more.

By this time one of Sir Durcent’s pages had come to the Tavern and was looking for us to head to the Manorhouse. Once there we were escorted to the meeting room where Sir Durcent, his Chancellor, the Sheriff and his pupil, Sheriff Thurbarn, Sheriff in Waiting Fersic, the constable and two of his men and Sir Durcent’s guard captain and two of his men.

It seems that the orcs on their way out of the Province had been talking long and loud about the death of one of theirs and had been pressuring the Chief Glamar for a retaliation for this death and insult. The chief had been quiet about it but enough townsfolk did overhear the Chief give the approval for a raid and that it would happen tonight at midnight.

There was talk of mustering a defense for this and calling up the militia. Durcent Province has about 500 people living there, Maciles a bit let and the Ostlerson Demesne perhaps 300 total. Mustering a proper militia was going to be difficult and most likely not going to be more than a small deterrent. This raid was not going to be from farmers, but young orcish raiders and the estimation was 50 of them.

We needed a response team and we needed it to be in place to head off the raiders and at best bloody their nose. So for a short mustering Sir Durcent wanted us to be involved and we were going to number: Our 5 party members, Thog, Sunder, Thurbarn, Fersic, The Constable, 5 militia men (2 of them with flat bows), and 5 of the lord’s own guardsmen (again, 2 of them with flatbows).

We knew the area closest to the orcish encampment on the northern border of the Province had three large natural clearings and orcish raiders typically ride in a wide line to terrify their targets. So the thought was to go to those three clearings, clear out the crofters that might live there and send them back south to the Manorhouse, and then lay in wait for the orcs to arrive and meet them head on.

No matter what, we wanted there to be NO loss of life on either side and the plan was drive off and deter – not slaughter.

The clearing of the peasantry went without much issue and by 10 pm the homes had been cleared. We guessed the middle clearing was the best choice for use and we decided to split our forces. Fersic, 1 guardsman, and three militia men would head to the eastern clearing and hide in a home there. The Constable, 1 militia man, and 3 guardsmen would head to the western clearing and hide in a home there, and the party, Thog, Sundar, Thurbarn, and the last militia and guardsman would stay here and we would do the same. Everyone was given a signal whistle and blasting it meant the orcs were there and the groups should race to help out. Estimated jog at night through the trees was perhaps 2-3 minutes in between each clearing and another minute or so to clear each clearing as it was.

We were set up in place and time passed. Eventually we were sure it was midnight and then some. No whistles, looking out the windows showed nothing. The Sheriff went up to the loft and using his sword, slit the thatch up there and looked out. In the distance to the east was a slow line of torches, 20 or 30 in number and they moved with slow care to the clearing and were gone from view.

As we were deciding to run east and help out, we then heard the whistle blast coming from the WEST clearing, calling for help! And then the east clearing was blowing as well. Shit. We made a fast call to split our forces, taking our party and Thurbarn to the west, and leaving Thog, Sundar, and the two other men to run east and help out.

We ran through the trees until we arrived at the clearing. At least a dozen orcs were here, three with flatbows that we could see, and they were beating the militia and guardsmen terribly – the Constable standing toe to toe with three of them keeping them off his man.

Magic Missiles and other spells were fired back and forth as we made a showing, the difficult terrain of the fields making our run a bit slower than we’d like. But the Orcs did a bit more looting before one of them had said that they had done what the needed to do and should run. A sleep spell fired off, dropping 4 of the orcs and making those remaining more interested in running away with their ill-gotten gains.

The Constable was holding a trio of orcs off his fallen man but eventually dropped from his wounds and the orcs took out their aggression again him until he was unmoving. We struggled to finally get in melee range as the orcs were pulling away but between our arrival and the standing of the last two militia men, we managed drop three of the orcs.

We fired off a Stabilize spell which brought everyone back from the brink except for the Constable who had taken terrible wounds from the fight and succumbed to his injuries. As we were tying up the 7 Captured orcs we ran back to the east where the blasting of whistles continued to call for help, Sheriff Thurbarn arranging to bind up the orcs and get the weakened and fallen men back in shape.

Meet 87, Adv 6, 6/15/19

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

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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