With one of our original members moved away 4 odd months ago, we thought it would have been pretty easy to replace him at the table, after all - we never had an issue before finding someone, and not just a body - quality people.
This was naivete on our part or perhaps just our good fortune earlier, but it has been an uphill struggle to even get people to sit and talk at length about the game. Lots of maybes, and plenty of static. Went with the friends of friends route as well and had no bites. We all were asking people at work, nothing doing.
Finally I went back to Meetup and scoured the boards, but after 57 reachings out, I had less than half reply to my emails, and only 10 show any interest in taking it further. 16% return or there abouts.
I was pleased to have an interview with 2 people this last week and although one of them was sort of what you'd expect from people who play this hobby in a negative light, the other was a ray of sunshine and both myself and the player who came with me to check out the interviewees were happy to offer her a place at the table.
So she came, rolled up her half-orc barbarian, and by the end of the night fit in with the rest of the table.
Write up follows:
Watches were split up and about the only thing of note was the sound of falling rocks far in the distance along with the strange high pitched bleating of some animal. It didn’t continue nor repeat so the watchers noted it but we moved on.
The caravan awoke the next day, broke their fast, then loaded up the carts, lashed the ponies, and we set off. Trentis informed us that we would have to lift and force the carts again uphill and over irregular terrain again as we were planning to get past an area referred to as Three Rock Falls.
By 9:30, we had come upon the location as expected. The Enderlyn River sped up here and cascaded down a series of small 2’-5’ drops, punctuated in three places by large boulders that acted as breakwaters, forcing the river to roil around them. The foothills were much closer here and Trentis led us some distance from the falls, taking the group up a series of slopes and switchbacks – the ponies complaining bitterly along the way as we trudged our way uphill.
During this time we noted that Einar was growing weaker, coughing open, blowing snot, and wheezing. He complained that his chest hurt but the half-orc was doggedly continuing on.
Once past the area of Three Falls, the Enderlyn River flowed south and then gently turned back north, widening out and shallowing. Trentis let us know that we would be fording the river here. Each cart and pony was to have 1 teamster and two others to help out. We would cross the river one at a time and do all we could to keep the ponies moving forward and the carts as steady as possible. Avulstein went across with the first cart and then stood watch at Trentis’ request, keen eyes peeled for any problems.
He did note that once again the party had attracted the attention of wolves. Some 250 yards or so down river, another three were standing there, thick furred, healthy, fat even. The necromancer suspected at least one of them was similar to one that had watched us before but couldn’t be sure. The carts all crossed and by 10ish we were on our way. Ahead of us was a larger mountain, some 7,000 ft in height, and its peak was split in the middle making the mountain appear like it had two ears. Trentis informed us that this was Furtham’s Peak, and the Illytch Base Camp was at the eastern base in the foothills near the river. The distinctive mountain between its height and its summit characteristic would help us should we find ourselves out in the wilderness and needed to find our way back to the Base Camp.
Meanwhile, in Base Camp, one of the members of the Randari Rangers hired by House Illytch 6 months earlier had been growing increasingly frustrated with the uneven and chaotic leadership style of the alpha male, Hornes. His seemingly distancing from reality coupled with the other members of the ranging group feeding in to his wildly inaccurate statements had been wearing Barb down so much so that she was seriously contemplating vacating her employment contract with House Illytch.
Instead, she went and spoke with the Reeve Donna Duncarian and gotten tacit approval that if the promised K’Morat hunters were truly on their way from Sorton as promised earlier last month, that she could transfer her contract from the ranging group to the hunter group assuming there was room for her. For now, Barb has been anxiously waiting for the caravan to arrive, something that Hornes has noted but isn’t sure what is going on.
The party came up river and at 11:30, arrived at the House Illytch Base Camp. It’s pretty sizeable and it’s obvious they have done much to prepare for the longer stay here.
Base Camp is at the foothills of Furtham’s Peak. The outer area is cut away forest, then a breastwork of 8’ dug earth and a lattice of wood palisade. Beyond that is a stout stone wall 14’ tall that encompasses the camp itself. Two ballista’s and three mule-kicker style catapults cover the 4 corners and entrance of the camp. The building are squat, tightly made, and in great repair. The entire camp is on the slope of the foothill so there is line of sight for the back of the camp to target and defend the front as well.
A call goes out and Trentis announces our arrival and desire to enter. The sound of hammers and saws come to a stop as the people of the Base Camp gather near the entrance to greet the caravan, the party, and the tradesmen who have made the trip.
The group looks around as we roll in through the heavy stone gate. Entering the camp, to the right is the cart house and beyond that, a paddock for the ponies. To the left are the kennels and dogs, followed by a sty for the pigs. Following clockwise from there is the alchemy labs and the stoneworking shops. Then along the back of the enclosure are 3 barracks, each capable of sleeping 20. In front of them is the mess lodge that would seat 70; with the bakery, the kitchen, and pantry stores situated adjoining. A privy and showers is in the back of camp where water is brought up from the Enderlyn River and situated in two 50 gallon tanks on top of the building. A similar tank is on top of the kitchen as well.
Continuing along, the back of the camp has the rep house for House Illytch where the Bailiff and Reeve stay and beyond that is the smithy. Then we have the cobbler and weaver sharing a squat wooden structure and behind are the carpenters and the camp stores with a final open sided aired barn building for hay and animal feed.
Trentis bids his hello to a soft looking early middle aged dwarf with a forked braided beard tucked into his waist identified as Bailiff Youngston Illytch who is standing next to a 6’ 5” imposing woman who is the Reeve Donna Duncarian. The group is introduced which gets an excited smattering from the 40 plus gathered people here. We have about ½ dwarves, 1/3 orcs and half orcs, 1/3 human, and the rest is a smattering of other races. About 1 in 4 is female and everyone seems in good spirits and capable.
We are told to go drop our gear off at Barracks Three and then to meet the Bailiff and Reeve at the Rep Building. As we head off we note that an orcish woman is talking quickly and excitedly with the Reeve who after listening for a bit nods her head. The other orcs and half orcs then approach the woman and argue with her. We catch something about “Bears don’t HAVE horns!” in an almost frustrated screech but are whisked away towards the rear of the camp.
Once our gear is stored away we make our way over to the Illytch Rep House and are let in. The main room is set up with a U shaped table where Bailiff Youngston and Reeve Donna are seated; to their left is the orcish woman we had seen earlier, although now that we were closer, her body type belied some human ancestry in her past. The Bailiff let us know that Trentis spoke of the trip and our efforts, picking up on 3 members of the party who did not perform to the caravan master’s wants: Dizzy, Einar, and Bobkins.
Dizzy was argumentative and lazy, but he did have a keen eye and warned the group twice of the Rock Drake attack so he was forgiven. Einar has come down with Reorx’ Bane – a type of poison the Gorokian Mountain Dwarves had concocted during the Randari War some century and a half ago. Mostly gone, sometimes it can be found settled in crevices and older pools of water. If an orcish person imbibes the tainted water, it can make them sick and dehydrated for at 3 days, and maybe as much as a week or so. So he was going to be of no use to the party and ergo, the Base Camp.
As for Bobkins, Trentis let the Bailiff and Reeve know that Bobkin was big on talk, and almost non-existent on help or skill. Smacking his jo sticks together and going “clang clang” was not the same as aiding the teamsters in moving the carts and ponies across the rugged terrain. Because of this the Bailiff felt very uncomfortable sending Bobkins out and would like him to re relegated to the kitchens for now.
This left the party down two on the contract, although the case could be made for 1 since Bobkins could show himself to be capable. This is where the Reeve came in. Donna motioned to the half-orc on her left and introduced her as Barb, a member of the Randari Rangers who was looking to transfer her employment contract to something else in the Illytch purview. Since we were down Einar, they wanted us to take her on. She presented herself as no nonsense, straight shooting, and capable with all manner of weaponry. After discussing the contract with her, she agreed to its terms and the Reeve had her sign it right there and she was welcomed aboard.
They then talked about the fungi that were being harvested out here far from Sorton. The fungus spores have sprung up all over the upper reaches of Furtham’s Peak, at least 4,000 feet in altitude and spread over a wide area that has encompassed over 12 square miles. The fungus, A large fibrous mushroom almost 2’ in height, pale yellow in color and flecked with green and blue spots near the crown, is called “Firvin’s Cap” and is rare at best. The entire mushroom must be harvested since plucking the cap will dislodge the spores and waste the usefulness of the mushroom. So small bladed saws and knives are used, the mushrooms lifted and cut free near the ground and then dropped in sealed clay jars.
Feeling around camp is good, everyone is working and each time the harvesters come in with a Firvin’s Cap, it’s a win for everyone since it means continued pay and work. But the continued and increasing K’Morat assault and attacks have reduced the gathering from 5-8/day of premium specimens to 1-2/day of lesser ones. They have had some people “guarding” the harvesters but it is a waste of resources since each person that is brought to camp reduces profit for the entire operation and reduces everyone’s bonus and pay, which in turn reduced morale and means others things that need to get done aren’t getting done. So the consensus is the Base Camp is thrilled the party is here and is expecting an almost immediate improvement from their presence.
We were given a heads up of the camp’s 60+ composition: The Bailiff, The Reeve, the 10 (now 11) party members, 10 Harvesters, 2 Alchemy Dept Reps, 13 (now 12) Randari Orc Rangers, 8 Giant Killers, 3 Miners/Masons, 2 Carpenters, 1 Hayswain, 2 Tinsmiths, 1 Blacksmith, 1 Cobbler, 1 Weaver, 4 Teamsters/Wheelwrights, 3 Cooks, 3 Pages/Camp Aides, 1 Baker, 6 Guards, and the Kennelmaster
When Trentis leaves, he will cycle 4 of the teamsters he brought with him here, taking the others with him. It’s 6 days round trip without issue for the caravans to return.
We wanted some information about the area and where the K’Morat are situated from. For that we were told that the Randari Ranger’s leader, the bruiser Half-orc known as Hornes, was the best bet. Barb had recently worked with him and let us know that a steady litany of praise and commenting about his “bear” horned helmet should be enough to grease the wheels for the group.
Avulstein went with Einar to the Alchemy Department Reps, meeting with the two here: a dwarf named Thebides Ironbeard and his gnomish compatriot “Thimbles” Yuntin Wentworthington. They were assisted by a young dwarven female named Pips who seemed to beyond weary dealing with the two eccentric alchemists. They identified Einar’s issue and gave him some medication, advising him that bed rest was the best solution for our ailing half-orc.
As for Avulstein, he had hinted if there was something the alchemist’s could supply to him to make killing K’Morat warriors easier. Thebides didn’t get it, but Thimbles did. Thimbles was also working on an oil of explosion recipe and has it about 80% working. The two alchemists had no problem coming up with a poison to kill K’Morat, and would happily put one together but they would need about 4-8 gallons of kobold blood in Avulstein could procure it.
4-8…gallons?
When Avulstein tried to explain the difficulty in getting that much as well as carrying it back, also asking if there was something in it for him (cough cough, pay me?) they were non-plussed and said that we all worked for House Illytch and that should be good enough. Avulstein left frustrated and rejoined the party at the Rep house.
Darius meanwhile had gone to the dwarven blacksmith, a stout woman named Daversi, and had an antlered handled knife swapped out for a horned handled knife. He brought it back to the Rep house and rejoined the crew just before the Randari Ranger Hornes came in along with his druid subaltern, Spunifer Shaggycoat.
Hornes was half-orc and favored his human side except for the deep green pigmentation and Spunifer was a full orc decked out in ritual scarification and fetishes dangling from her hair, ears, and clothes. Hornes started off with animosity but after he was praised for his bear horned helmet (See?!?! I TOLD you it was Bear Horn!) and then presented the knife, he broke down a bit in tears, happy that someone notices the work he’s doing and the effort he makes in promoting what is best for his rangers.
They talked to us at length about the K’Morat in the area and eventually gave us a map of the ranges and notable points upon it. K’Morat look on us as food. Period. Anything that moves is food. They are brave and hardy, and have a different outlook on death than we do, so seemingly dying isn’t a problem for them. Thankfully even though they are fecund, they are also small and weak and their numbers aren’t overwhelming. They don’t speak any language but their own and outside of magical means, no one can understand the K’Morat language since they don’t reply to anything except from other K’Morat’s. They are pretty close to the ebbs of Yggdrasil and make potent shamans. They make a foodstuff, like a runny cheese, that acts as a mutagen to whatever animal they feed it to. K’Morat’s have been known to range as far as 30 miles in their hunts in an area they call their territory. Signs you are near their lair is a lack of huntable game and some signs of mutagenic animals. No stranger to the sun, they are more comfortable hunting in the twilight and pre-dawn hours.
We thanked Hornes for his efforts and he and Spunifer left. We then discussed with the Reeve what our plan was which was to follow the Harvesters and see if we could pick up and K’Morat while they watched the party and maybe track them back to their lair.
Wednesday, September 27, 2017
Monday, September 25, 2017
Meet 13, Adv B4, 9/22/17 - Youth Group
With the start of school, the youth’s game had been fallow for a month but they had a great session to make up for it. The larger adventure and world is coming along and they are damned close to more to the ancient weapons of Cyndicia which they will hope to use against the demonic Zargon at some point.
They’ve been talking about what happens after this adventure is finished – and the consensus is to continue – but make the leap from B/X to Advanced. Going to get them all a PDF of the 1st edition player’s handbook in the near future and that’ll be the go to in about 5-7 more meetings from where I’m sitting.
Write up follows:
With the Crawler rearing back for another wave of tentacle infused assaults, Mark took a daring chance and lunged forward; Mace of Gorm upraised, and brought it crashing down on the beast. There was a flash of light and a concussive blast and when it was over, the Crawler’s head had been stove in and a line of smoke was curling up from the mace’s surface.
The situation now well in hand, there was the question of whether the Crawler’s paralytic goo was still effective. Mark dared to touch a tentacle and on feeling the numbing buzz; backed away and swiftly wiped his hand clean – yeah, still works.
So the group whacked one of the tentacle ends off and Safir lifted it with the hem of his cloak, positioning the tube like end into a cautiously held flask Vulcan was gripping – and squeezed. We were rewarded with the sound of the fluid tinkling into the flask. It took time, but we hacked off the other 7 tentacle pods and duplicated our efforts until we had about half a flask of this paralytic ichor.
It was time to open the coffin and a look inside showed us three pouches along with the mummified remains of a body. The first held a set of superior thieves tools which Safir happily took charge of, the second had 20 sapphires of good quality that we split evenly, and the last was a document declaring that the mummified individual had a deal to follow King Alexander and Queen Zenobia into the afterlife as the royal thief. We kept the treasures – and left the contract, shutting the coffin lid and then leaving the room.
Our internal map had now wrapped up every possible passage or room on the 4th level except or the central portion of the map that we had not been able to find our way to as of yet. There was the long corridor that led down to the 5th level still to investigate – it had continued beyond our original egress. So the group left the master thief’s room and began the long trek west through the dark passages, eyes peels and ears perked for anything to be found in the gloom.
As we were coming back around near where the shadows had been slain, we could hear a voice from a growing glow ahead hail us as aske who we were. They drew closer and we saw 7 silver masked robed members of the Cult of Usimagarus. The leader, Krantis, was rude and abrupt, identified us as followers of Gorm, and were on their up to the 3rd level to find out why Auriga was a few days late in checking in. Vulkan made the mistake of saying they knew of Auriga but then deflected it, saying that Pandora of the Madurans had mentioned him.
Krantis and his goons then charged the party 1 silver noble each to walk past and we paid it, to avoid an issue, being out numbered, and to save our fights for something else further on. After they had gone past, Mark bared down as hard as he could and blew wind in Krantis’ direction – but 5 days of rations had his digestive track not working right and sadly his passing of gas came out more liquid that he expected.
We waited while the cleric took off his armor, then his pants, then his underwear, wiped himself clean, put on a new set of hose and got dressed all over again. As he came back to the group with his underwear held in a ball, the party was yelling at him to “leave it, are you crazy?” Not like they’ve found the laundromat down here yet. So he dumped it in the hall, and then Vulkan used one of his graphite sticks to write an expletive to Usimagarus around the underwear and the party continued on their way, chuckling.
We came to the long hall and walked up until we arrived at the hole in the floor that would lead to the 5th level…and then kept going north. The passage ended a dozen or so paces later abruptly which had the group then search the wall…finding what was apparently a poorly designed secret door. We pressed shoulder to the door, slid it in some 3 inches, and then lifted it up and out of the way.
The corridor beyond went to the east in the dimly lit chamber, the floor covered in 2’x2’ checker boarded white and red tiles. From the dim recesses to the east, we could see the chamber ended at a passage that kept going, but was only 2’ in height.
We had Safir look for traps and the group came in after the scout. We decided to walk only on the white tiles and made our way east. After about 1/3rd the distance, there was a loud crackling sound and a weighted pendulum lurched out of the ceiling and arced across the floor, the edge sharpened like a massive axe and honed to a scintilling edge. He managed to jump back barely in time and we watched it arc across about half the width of the chamber twice before locking back into the ceiling and we presume, resetting.
Safir then went south and using Vulkan’s staff as a prodding rod, further checked out the area, noting it clear, and we kept going…until another pendulum arced down and across. This time the edge of the staff took the impact and 3” of it was cleanly sliced off. Vulkan grew furious but Safir ignored him as we waited for the 2nd pendulum to return to its resting position. Safir then led us to the northern part of the room again as we serpentine our way along and eventually to the end of the chamber.
It looked like a block of stone had been designed to fall here and seal off the passage but got hung up, leaving a 2’ tall gap, 10’ wide and 10’ deep. 6 tons of rock just hanging there. And we had to get under it. Vulkan volunteered and three times tried to crawl under the stone and three times had to back away terrified as the rock groaned and seemed to shudder as he was making his way beneath it. Finally, backpack off and shoved ahead, Vulkan shimmied his way beneath frantic and was safely through. Safir went next, also raining rock dust down, but no issue.
While Mark and Delsin were deciding who would go next, we heard angry voices coming down the long corridor and Krantis was berating the other Usimagarians that they “wanted to talk to those bastards and see what REALLY happened to Auriga!” Time to fly.
Mark dove under the stone and was hunching his way beneath, scraping the stone top and bottom with his platemail, the cleric panting in his efforts to get through, grit falling in his hair, down his collar, and getting in his face. As soon as the way was clear and Delsin was able to see the glow from the approaching wandering troupe, he kicked the candle he had been using for light under the stone and dove beneath; crab crawling and dragging himself along as quick as he could, ignoring the almost quivering rock over his head. Once on the other side he was helped up, pulled to the side, and Safir lowered the flame of the lantern and we waited.
Krantis was dimly heard cursing and others asking where we were. Thought was we went down to the 5th level or maybe Cyndicia and he was going to find us. Did they go to the tombs? Doubted it, but to be safe they pulled the secret door closed and were then gone from our hearing.
Whew.
We looked about the room we were in. There was a 7’ mound of rubbled rock ahead of us, testament that more of the stones that were to seal off this area failed on some level. We made our way slowly and methodically over the rubble until safely on the other side. Once there we beheld the last issue – more fallen stones to bar our way – but these 10’ blocks did not fall square, and now had 2’ gaps running between them. Safir went first with Delsin following.
But after half way through, even with packs off and dragged behind us, Delsin was stuck and had to go back and take his armor off as well. Safir kept going and would wait for us in what he said was “a clear area”.
So the party took off armor and then dragging packs and armor behind, inched their way through the stones until they arrived at a clear area, 20’ x 10’. A double set of ornate doors was ahead and there was Safir’s lantern on the ground. No Safir.
We grabbed the lantern and put our ear to the door. There was some sort of grunting coming from the other side, so we readied weapons and burst the door opened. It was a huge crypt – two golden sarcophagi, tons of chest, broken chariots, thrones, bones, and ruined art. And in the middle were two 400 lb albino apes, one of them holding up an unconscious Safir whose face and head was covered in bruises and bleeding.
The two apes hooted at us and Mark and Delsin ran in to do battle. The first ape lifted up Safir and HURLED him at the party, the scout hitting the ground with a bone jarring snap and then rolling towards us the rest of the way, his left arm flopping wildly and against the normal bend of his elbow.
Ouch!
As the battle was joined, Vulkan finished yelling out his own spells and a wave of black energy flowed out and hit the two apes – putting one to sleep. Delsin fired up Heatstroke and went toe to toe with Mark against the still awake ape while Vulkan charged to sleeping one and slit its throat with a single stroke of his dagger.
Delsin’s shield rang on the ape’s blows while his burning sword tore into and through the apes back and then again its chest. The primate would have taken enough damage to drop anyone in the group, and still it railed against the group until finally Delsin’s last blow drove 2’ of Heatstroke into its left lung and the albino ape fell over dead, right next to its companion.
We healed Safir and then helped him back to his feet once he regained consciousness. He was woozy but getting stronger. We felt pretty good at achieving our goal and decided to split up to open each sarcophagus at the same time. Safir was assured that neither was trapped and we took our knives and proceeded to slit the thin clay seals on each coffin.
That’s when Safir noticed we had a problem. His knife had slit the top of the golden coffin – but if it was gold, it wouldn’t have cut as cleanly or as deeply as the blade did. He and Vulkan tested it out and were sure the coffin was in fact gold painted wood. A quick check of the second one showed the same.
We opened them anyway – seeing a skeletal form, no mummy wrappings, and no ancient weapons of Cyndicia. Nothing. The party was not convinced these were the king and queen. We then opened one of the chests and took out a handful of golden coins, but Safir once more proved they were fake by scratching the pain off the lead slugs. All the chests were the same.
OK…what now? Vulkan suggested we look for secret doors in here and try to uncover the true lair.
It took 20 minutes to search two of the very long walls but the group did discover a secret door on the north wall near the west corner, and then a second secret door on the exact opposite wall – south wall, west corner.
On the count of three, both doors were opened and we looked. Each showed a dusty unused passage that went 20 paces off the main room and then turned west. The only decision now was do we head north or south?
They’ve been talking about what happens after this adventure is finished – and the consensus is to continue – but make the leap from B/X to Advanced. Going to get them all a PDF of the 1st edition player’s handbook in the near future and that’ll be the go to in about 5-7 more meetings from where I’m sitting.
Write up follows:
With the Crawler rearing back for another wave of tentacle infused assaults, Mark took a daring chance and lunged forward; Mace of Gorm upraised, and brought it crashing down on the beast. There was a flash of light and a concussive blast and when it was over, the Crawler’s head had been stove in and a line of smoke was curling up from the mace’s surface.
The situation now well in hand, there was the question of whether the Crawler’s paralytic goo was still effective. Mark dared to touch a tentacle and on feeling the numbing buzz; backed away and swiftly wiped his hand clean – yeah, still works.
So the group whacked one of the tentacle ends off and Safir lifted it with the hem of his cloak, positioning the tube like end into a cautiously held flask Vulcan was gripping – and squeezed. We were rewarded with the sound of the fluid tinkling into the flask. It took time, but we hacked off the other 7 tentacle pods and duplicated our efforts until we had about half a flask of this paralytic ichor.
It was time to open the coffin and a look inside showed us three pouches along with the mummified remains of a body. The first held a set of superior thieves tools which Safir happily took charge of, the second had 20 sapphires of good quality that we split evenly, and the last was a document declaring that the mummified individual had a deal to follow King Alexander and Queen Zenobia into the afterlife as the royal thief. We kept the treasures – and left the contract, shutting the coffin lid and then leaving the room.
Our internal map had now wrapped up every possible passage or room on the 4th level except or the central portion of the map that we had not been able to find our way to as of yet. There was the long corridor that led down to the 5th level still to investigate – it had continued beyond our original egress. So the group left the master thief’s room and began the long trek west through the dark passages, eyes peels and ears perked for anything to be found in the gloom.
As we were coming back around near where the shadows had been slain, we could hear a voice from a growing glow ahead hail us as aske who we were. They drew closer and we saw 7 silver masked robed members of the Cult of Usimagarus. The leader, Krantis, was rude and abrupt, identified us as followers of Gorm, and were on their up to the 3rd level to find out why Auriga was a few days late in checking in. Vulkan made the mistake of saying they knew of Auriga but then deflected it, saying that Pandora of the Madurans had mentioned him.
Krantis and his goons then charged the party 1 silver noble each to walk past and we paid it, to avoid an issue, being out numbered, and to save our fights for something else further on. After they had gone past, Mark bared down as hard as he could and blew wind in Krantis’ direction – but 5 days of rations had his digestive track not working right and sadly his passing of gas came out more liquid that he expected.
We waited while the cleric took off his armor, then his pants, then his underwear, wiped himself clean, put on a new set of hose and got dressed all over again. As he came back to the group with his underwear held in a ball, the party was yelling at him to “leave it, are you crazy?” Not like they’ve found the laundromat down here yet. So he dumped it in the hall, and then Vulkan used one of his graphite sticks to write an expletive to Usimagarus around the underwear and the party continued on their way, chuckling.
We came to the long hall and walked up until we arrived at the hole in the floor that would lead to the 5th level…and then kept going north. The passage ended a dozen or so paces later abruptly which had the group then search the wall…finding what was apparently a poorly designed secret door. We pressed shoulder to the door, slid it in some 3 inches, and then lifted it up and out of the way.
The corridor beyond went to the east in the dimly lit chamber, the floor covered in 2’x2’ checker boarded white and red tiles. From the dim recesses to the east, we could see the chamber ended at a passage that kept going, but was only 2’ in height.
We had Safir look for traps and the group came in after the scout. We decided to walk only on the white tiles and made our way east. After about 1/3rd the distance, there was a loud crackling sound and a weighted pendulum lurched out of the ceiling and arced across the floor, the edge sharpened like a massive axe and honed to a scintilling edge. He managed to jump back barely in time and we watched it arc across about half the width of the chamber twice before locking back into the ceiling and we presume, resetting.
Safir then went south and using Vulkan’s staff as a prodding rod, further checked out the area, noting it clear, and we kept going…until another pendulum arced down and across. This time the edge of the staff took the impact and 3” of it was cleanly sliced off. Vulkan grew furious but Safir ignored him as we waited for the 2nd pendulum to return to its resting position. Safir then led us to the northern part of the room again as we serpentine our way along and eventually to the end of the chamber.
It looked like a block of stone had been designed to fall here and seal off the passage but got hung up, leaving a 2’ tall gap, 10’ wide and 10’ deep. 6 tons of rock just hanging there. And we had to get under it. Vulkan volunteered and three times tried to crawl under the stone and three times had to back away terrified as the rock groaned and seemed to shudder as he was making his way beneath it. Finally, backpack off and shoved ahead, Vulkan shimmied his way beneath frantic and was safely through. Safir went next, also raining rock dust down, but no issue.
While Mark and Delsin were deciding who would go next, we heard angry voices coming down the long corridor and Krantis was berating the other Usimagarians that they “wanted to talk to those bastards and see what REALLY happened to Auriga!” Time to fly.
Mark dove under the stone and was hunching his way beneath, scraping the stone top and bottom with his platemail, the cleric panting in his efforts to get through, grit falling in his hair, down his collar, and getting in his face. As soon as the way was clear and Delsin was able to see the glow from the approaching wandering troupe, he kicked the candle he had been using for light under the stone and dove beneath; crab crawling and dragging himself along as quick as he could, ignoring the almost quivering rock over his head. Once on the other side he was helped up, pulled to the side, and Safir lowered the flame of the lantern and we waited.
Krantis was dimly heard cursing and others asking where we were. Thought was we went down to the 5th level or maybe Cyndicia and he was going to find us. Did they go to the tombs? Doubted it, but to be safe they pulled the secret door closed and were then gone from our hearing.
Whew.
We looked about the room we were in. There was a 7’ mound of rubbled rock ahead of us, testament that more of the stones that were to seal off this area failed on some level. We made our way slowly and methodically over the rubble until safely on the other side. Once there we beheld the last issue – more fallen stones to bar our way – but these 10’ blocks did not fall square, and now had 2’ gaps running between them. Safir went first with Delsin following.
But after half way through, even with packs off and dragged behind us, Delsin was stuck and had to go back and take his armor off as well. Safir kept going and would wait for us in what he said was “a clear area”.
So the party took off armor and then dragging packs and armor behind, inched their way through the stones until they arrived at a clear area, 20’ x 10’. A double set of ornate doors was ahead and there was Safir’s lantern on the ground. No Safir.
We grabbed the lantern and put our ear to the door. There was some sort of grunting coming from the other side, so we readied weapons and burst the door opened. It was a huge crypt – two golden sarcophagi, tons of chest, broken chariots, thrones, bones, and ruined art. And in the middle were two 400 lb albino apes, one of them holding up an unconscious Safir whose face and head was covered in bruises and bleeding.
The two apes hooted at us and Mark and Delsin ran in to do battle. The first ape lifted up Safir and HURLED him at the party, the scout hitting the ground with a bone jarring snap and then rolling towards us the rest of the way, his left arm flopping wildly and against the normal bend of his elbow.
Ouch!
As the battle was joined, Vulkan finished yelling out his own spells and a wave of black energy flowed out and hit the two apes – putting one to sleep. Delsin fired up Heatstroke and went toe to toe with Mark against the still awake ape while Vulkan charged to sleeping one and slit its throat with a single stroke of his dagger.
Delsin’s shield rang on the ape’s blows while his burning sword tore into and through the apes back and then again its chest. The primate would have taken enough damage to drop anyone in the group, and still it railed against the group until finally Delsin’s last blow drove 2’ of Heatstroke into its left lung and the albino ape fell over dead, right next to its companion.
We healed Safir and then helped him back to his feet once he regained consciousness. He was woozy but getting stronger. We felt pretty good at achieving our goal and decided to split up to open each sarcophagus at the same time. Safir was assured that neither was trapped and we took our knives and proceeded to slit the thin clay seals on each coffin.
That’s when Safir noticed we had a problem. His knife had slit the top of the golden coffin – but if it was gold, it wouldn’t have cut as cleanly or as deeply as the blade did. He and Vulkan tested it out and were sure the coffin was in fact gold painted wood. A quick check of the second one showed the same.
We opened them anyway – seeing a skeletal form, no mummy wrappings, and no ancient weapons of Cyndicia. Nothing. The party was not convinced these were the king and queen. We then opened one of the chests and took out a handful of golden coins, but Safir once more proved they were fake by scratching the pain off the lead slugs. All the chests were the same.
OK…what now? Vulkan suggested we look for secret doors in here and try to uncover the true lair.
It took 20 minutes to search two of the very long walls but the group did discover a secret door on the north wall near the west corner, and then a second secret door on the exact opposite wall – south wall, west corner.
On the count of three, both doors were opened and we looked. Each showed a dusty unused passage that went 20 paces off the main room and then turned west. The only decision now was do we head north or south?
Friday, September 22, 2017
Meet 25, Adv 4, 9/16/17
Guilds
I like the idea of multiple guilds. Many times though I have hand waved and said "Fighter's Guild" or "Wizard's Guild" and let it fly like that - as if there was a 1 size fits all guild repository of information doling it out for anyone with a pocket full of nobles and crowns.
So for this campaign I made sure to map out some guilds and give them a framework and reason behind them so that the group can have some choices. Also, it does help out since certain guilds would have issues with other ones. This meeting had some fleshing out forthe characters about the fighter's guilds open to them in this area.
Write up follows:
The next morning after eating in the House Illytch Barracks, we wandered over to the Grim Gauntlet’s Fighter’s guild and waited along with a half dozen or so other applicants to the guild. Eventually we were all welcomed in, friends and family as well, and sat in the stands of the coliseum along with a number of other members of the Sifian Order. The fighting floor was 70’ diameter packed sand, and the stands could seat 1,500 if need be. At the 4 cardinal points at the edge of the theatre were 4 towers where which a member of the guild was perched with a light crossbow.
In accordance with our agreement, Negan, Darius, Connal, and Einar were going to apply to the guild, and at some point, the pact with Loki with adjust some of the weapons from practice and wood to edged and dangerous.
Optio Strugi, a dwarven female, spoke with the gathered 60 or so people about what the Grim Gauntlets fighter’s guild was in relation to the other 2 guilds. The Grim Gauntlets is the smallest and most exacting of the fighter’s guilds here in Sorton and other places. Unlike the League of Odin who has a tremendous budget, support of the Church of Odin, Thor, Baldur, and Heimdall or the Storm Ravens who is sponsored by the Church of Odin and Heimdall, the Grim Gauntlets has only the Sifian Temple and Tyr as its benefactors.
The League is big on showy contest and tournaments. Their members are taught the spear and sword, hammer and bow, relying on armor and shield and take comfort in the fact that a quick and brutal assault is often all that is needed to ensure victory in combat. One of their biggest selling points is that, “anyone can be a member of the League.”
The Storm Ravens was originally the special combat division of the League but there was a conflict between the Order of Thor and Heimdall so the progenitor (Molvag Stormcloud) of the division broke away from the League and established a separate guild called the Storm Ravens in honor of Odin who still supported the guild leader. The Storm Ravens have a larger universe of weapons that they teach their students, and replaces caution and defense against the League’s more brutal front facing assaults.
The Grim Gauntlets believes the besides the body, it is the mind and skill that defines a decent fighter. Not everyone is blessed with the strength of Thor or the size of Heimdall. A skilled fighter can be he or she who fights with knives and kicks, or someone who can thread a noose at 100 paces, or someone who spends months or years trying to perfect their skill with the bearded axe. Armor counts, weapons count – but it is the person who helps define their path towards excellence. The guild is just the covering over the person to help ward and define them – the guild is the grim gauntlet encasing the hand of the warrior in whatever guise he or she may be.
The gathered 10 applicants all sounded happy at this and we were allowed to put on a set of padded armor, take a practice shield if we wanted, and were entitled to take 1 practice weapon that mirrored something we were familiar with. So we had Negan’s wooden two handed sword and Einar’s practice broad sword, and everyone else was taking a weapon and or shield from the rack and giving them a few practice swings.
We were also informed that during the combat the towers would fire random bolts into the melee to reflect the chaos then surrounds most battles. The bolts were blunted and light, but could still knock someone off their feet if given a direct hit.
Which then led us to scoring. We would be scored on intent, impact, and incapacitance – anyone who was knocked down would be considered out of the fight – they might still have enough points to make it into the guild, but not enough to continuing competing. Top 6 out of 10 would be given admittance.
The 10 of us were randomly split up into 3 matches where the theatre was divided up for the combat into thirds. Group 1 was a half-orc bruiser with a sword named Vult, a human female with a couple of wooden knives named Phrenna, and finally a middle aged stout dwarven fighter with a flatbow and practice bolts named Ducat. Group 2 was Einar, Darius, Connal, and a young dwarven fighter with a warhammer named Norag. And finally Group 3 was Negan, a teenaged human with 2 light spears named Felton, and young dwarven fighter also armed with a couple of spears named Golarin.
The horn was blown and the groups all jumped to the assault. Norag ran closer to try and take of Darius and Ducat ran backwards in an attempt to shoot Vult down, successfully hitting the half orc who missed a step and slipped, falling. Negan decided that Golarin was the more serious threat and positioned himself with Felton on his shielded side.
Crossbows twanged from above slapping into the combat and ringing off. Einer was struck twice, enraging the barbarian who charged across the battlefield – and into the 2nd ring! Strugi called out for the tower’s to “drop him!” as Einar wasn’t listening, Golarin and Negan taking and treading blows as the druid ran by, Felton was down.
Phrenna hurled a knife at Einar’s face and he was struck again, falling on Phrenna and disqualifying her. Some of the blows being delivered to and against the party were actually full damaging blows as the perversion of Loki flowed around the arena. The combatants were withering as the groups began falling away. Darius was wrestling with Norag, Negan was hitting Golarin, Connal was holding his own, Ducat was keeping himself out of the mess.
Eventually the last of the combats ended and the scores ran down from highest to lowest with Negan, Ducat, Connal, Golarin, Vult, Darius as the top 6 – Darius pulled himself out, thankful for just to opportunity, Einar was dragged to the lot and dumped in the alley, and even those who didn’t get in were ok with the findings. We drank and partied, the Grim Gauntlets supplying the food and drink.
Darius went his way to the Storm Ravens guild later and made his introductions there. Trying out, he showed his skill with the sling, even firing multiple times and at distance – always hitting the center or bullseye of the targets. He was given a green light to come back when it was time to go up and would be welcomed then.
The next day was a bit rainy on Firemonth the 3rd as we left House Illytch and Sorton to head our way up the Enderlyn River and make it to the Base Camp some 2-3 days away. The Teamster leader Trentis along with 7 other teamsters and stablehands, our group of 10, a hayswain, carpenter, mason, tinsmith, and 2 giantslayers with pikes made up our caravan of 6 carts and ponies.
We offered our help when and where able to, guiding the carts up and over the steeper parts of the not quite there trail, keeping the river in sight and on our left. We did notice that the party was being shadowed at great distance by 2 or three wolves but none of them dared get closer and they only watched for now. The trees were tall, the scent of pine was heady, and we threaded our way through the valleys of the mountains that made up the Morat range, heading ever west, northwest. A group of timberers asked for news of Sorton and after exchanging with them, let us know that Rock Drakes were getting busy in the area and we should be on the lookout.
Trentis had a problem with Dizzy, thinking the dwarf was not holding his own during the march – always slacking off. So he had him dig the two slit trenches with which Dizzy did a poor and ineffective job – earning a rebuke. Some of the teamsters were fascinated with Avulstein and when it was noted he was a necromancer, Trentis didn’t care but a few of the followers gave the wolverine a wider berth and sideways glance.
We rested during the night – at which time a bobcat had come to the edge of our camp and was rotting in the trash. Darius woke up Avulstein and with the wizard’s help, quickly slayed the bobcat. Then he performed a ritual and raised the animal from the dead and brought it back to camp.
The next day Einar and Avulstein had some glances about the reanimated bobcat, flat out asking why HE wasn’t woken up, but the matter was left to die. Dizzy voiced his dislike of Einar to Avulstein which was funny because Dizzy had also made known of his dislike of Avulstein to Einar not 2 days earlier.
While pushing the carts past Welthan’s Falls, one of the cart’s wheels snapped off 3 of the spokes and had to wait a bit for the repair to happen. We lost only a little time but Trentis wanted us to make it up so we double timed it for a while. The country was beautiful and the peaks majestic around us. There was a lake here referred to as Broken Tower Lake. 4 miles by 1, some 200 yards or so off the eastern shore was a 70’ stone tower sitting quietly in the lake, stretching up to the broken crown.
Stories were that this entire land was part of the Himaya of Rand – the great orcish empire that was destroyed some 150 years or so ago. Might have been an outpost, astrologer’s tower, shaman’s tower – who knows.
We moved on a bit longer until we were called to rest at the north end of the lake. Trentis let us know we would make base camp by midday tomorrow, had once more set of falls we had to lift the carts over so to eat well and get some rest. Again, Dizzy was singled out to do some grunt work, given a 1 gallon bucket and told to go back and forth to the lake and fill the water casks on the 4th cart – each of which was 20 gallons alone.
While he was going back and forth, he did spot a disturbed outline in the wood line – 30’ long, 6’ at the shoulder, and watching the group. Rock Drake – and camouflaged. He came back and informed Trentis and the group was paying so much attention to the Drake that it went back into the woods and faded from sight.
Still being eagle eyed, Dizzy went back to loading up the casks with water, seeing the drake was hiding on the river bank now and inching closer. We were all once again made away and Dizzy made believe to fall as the drake launched itself into the air to attack. Throughout the group and the camp, missile weapons fired – all of them hitting the hide and bouncing away. The hide was just as tough as suspected.
Magic missiles fired and the giant slayed raised pikes as the drake made to dive the group and was hit enough that it was deterred, winging over and flying further up mountain and away from the party. We waited to make sure it was driven away and then set off to finish making camp for tonight.
I like the idea of multiple guilds. Many times though I have hand waved and said "Fighter's Guild" or "Wizard's Guild" and let it fly like that - as if there was a 1 size fits all guild repository of information doling it out for anyone with a pocket full of nobles and crowns.
So for this campaign I made sure to map out some guilds and give them a framework and reason behind them so that the group can have some choices. Also, it does help out since certain guilds would have issues with other ones. This meeting had some fleshing out forthe characters about the fighter's guilds open to them in this area.
Write up follows:
The next morning after eating in the House Illytch Barracks, we wandered over to the Grim Gauntlet’s Fighter’s guild and waited along with a half dozen or so other applicants to the guild. Eventually we were all welcomed in, friends and family as well, and sat in the stands of the coliseum along with a number of other members of the Sifian Order. The fighting floor was 70’ diameter packed sand, and the stands could seat 1,500 if need be. At the 4 cardinal points at the edge of the theatre were 4 towers where which a member of the guild was perched with a light crossbow.
In accordance with our agreement, Negan, Darius, Connal, and Einar were going to apply to the guild, and at some point, the pact with Loki with adjust some of the weapons from practice and wood to edged and dangerous.
Optio Strugi, a dwarven female, spoke with the gathered 60 or so people about what the Grim Gauntlets fighter’s guild was in relation to the other 2 guilds. The Grim Gauntlets is the smallest and most exacting of the fighter’s guilds here in Sorton and other places. Unlike the League of Odin who has a tremendous budget, support of the Church of Odin, Thor, Baldur, and Heimdall or the Storm Ravens who is sponsored by the Church of Odin and Heimdall, the Grim Gauntlets has only the Sifian Temple and Tyr as its benefactors.
The League is big on showy contest and tournaments. Their members are taught the spear and sword, hammer and bow, relying on armor and shield and take comfort in the fact that a quick and brutal assault is often all that is needed to ensure victory in combat. One of their biggest selling points is that, “anyone can be a member of the League.”
The Storm Ravens was originally the special combat division of the League but there was a conflict between the Order of Thor and Heimdall so the progenitor (Molvag Stormcloud) of the division broke away from the League and established a separate guild called the Storm Ravens in honor of Odin who still supported the guild leader. The Storm Ravens have a larger universe of weapons that they teach their students, and replaces caution and defense against the League’s more brutal front facing assaults.
The Grim Gauntlets believes the besides the body, it is the mind and skill that defines a decent fighter. Not everyone is blessed with the strength of Thor or the size of Heimdall. A skilled fighter can be he or she who fights with knives and kicks, or someone who can thread a noose at 100 paces, or someone who spends months or years trying to perfect their skill with the bearded axe. Armor counts, weapons count – but it is the person who helps define their path towards excellence. The guild is just the covering over the person to help ward and define them – the guild is the grim gauntlet encasing the hand of the warrior in whatever guise he or she may be.
The gathered 10 applicants all sounded happy at this and we were allowed to put on a set of padded armor, take a practice shield if we wanted, and were entitled to take 1 practice weapon that mirrored something we were familiar with. So we had Negan’s wooden two handed sword and Einar’s practice broad sword, and everyone else was taking a weapon and or shield from the rack and giving them a few practice swings.
We were also informed that during the combat the towers would fire random bolts into the melee to reflect the chaos then surrounds most battles. The bolts were blunted and light, but could still knock someone off their feet if given a direct hit.
Which then led us to scoring. We would be scored on intent, impact, and incapacitance – anyone who was knocked down would be considered out of the fight – they might still have enough points to make it into the guild, but not enough to continuing competing. Top 6 out of 10 would be given admittance.
The 10 of us were randomly split up into 3 matches where the theatre was divided up for the combat into thirds. Group 1 was a half-orc bruiser with a sword named Vult, a human female with a couple of wooden knives named Phrenna, and finally a middle aged stout dwarven fighter with a flatbow and practice bolts named Ducat. Group 2 was Einar, Darius, Connal, and a young dwarven fighter with a warhammer named Norag. And finally Group 3 was Negan, a teenaged human with 2 light spears named Felton, and young dwarven fighter also armed with a couple of spears named Golarin.
The horn was blown and the groups all jumped to the assault. Norag ran closer to try and take of Darius and Ducat ran backwards in an attempt to shoot Vult down, successfully hitting the half orc who missed a step and slipped, falling. Negan decided that Golarin was the more serious threat and positioned himself with Felton on his shielded side.
Crossbows twanged from above slapping into the combat and ringing off. Einer was struck twice, enraging the barbarian who charged across the battlefield – and into the 2nd ring! Strugi called out for the tower’s to “drop him!” as Einar wasn’t listening, Golarin and Negan taking and treading blows as the druid ran by, Felton was down.
Phrenna hurled a knife at Einar’s face and he was struck again, falling on Phrenna and disqualifying her. Some of the blows being delivered to and against the party were actually full damaging blows as the perversion of Loki flowed around the arena. The combatants were withering as the groups began falling away. Darius was wrestling with Norag, Negan was hitting Golarin, Connal was holding his own, Ducat was keeping himself out of the mess.
Eventually the last of the combats ended and the scores ran down from highest to lowest with Negan, Ducat, Connal, Golarin, Vult, Darius as the top 6 – Darius pulled himself out, thankful for just to opportunity, Einar was dragged to the lot and dumped in the alley, and even those who didn’t get in were ok with the findings. We drank and partied, the Grim Gauntlets supplying the food and drink.
Darius went his way to the Storm Ravens guild later and made his introductions there. Trying out, he showed his skill with the sling, even firing multiple times and at distance – always hitting the center or bullseye of the targets. He was given a green light to come back when it was time to go up and would be welcomed then.
The next day was a bit rainy on Firemonth the 3rd as we left House Illytch and Sorton to head our way up the Enderlyn River and make it to the Base Camp some 2-3 days away. The Teamster leader Trentis along with 7 other teamsters and stablehands, our group of 10, a hayswain, carpenter, mason, tinsmith, and 2 giantslayers with pikes made up our caravan of 6 carts and ponies.
We offered our help when and where able to, guiding the carts up and over the steeper parts of the not quite there trail, keeping the river in sight and on our left. We did notice that the party was being shadowed at great distance by 2 or three wolves but none of them dared get closer and they only watched for now. The trees were tall, the scent of pine was heady, and we threaded our way through the valleys of the mountains that made up the Morat range, heading ever west, northwest. A group of timberers asked for news of Sorton and after exchanging with them, let us know that Rock Drakes were getting busy in the area and we should be on the lookout.
Trentis had a problem with Dizzy, thinking the dwarf was not holding his own during the march – always slacking off. So he had him dig the two slit trenches with which Dizzy did a poor and ineffective job – earning a rebuke. Some of the teamsters were fascinated with Avulstein and when it was noted he was a necromancer, Trentis didn’t care but a few of the followers gave the wolverine a wider berth and sideways glance.
We rested during the night – at which time a bobcat had come to the edge of our camp and was rotting in the trash. Darius woke up Avulstein and with the wizard’s help, quickly slayed the bobcat. Then he performed a ritual and raised the animal from the dead and brought it back to camp.
The next day Einar and Avulstein had some glances about the reanimated bobcat, flat out asking why HE wasn’t woken up, but the matter was left to die. Dizzy voiced his dislike of Einar to Avulstein which was funny because Dizzy had also made known of his dislike of Avulstein to Einar not 2 days earlier.
While pushing the carts past Welthan’s Falls, one of the cart’s wheels snapped off 3 of the spokes and had to wait a bit for the repair to happen. We lost only a little time but Trentis wanted us to make it up so we double timed it for a while. The country was beautiful and the peaks majestic around us. There was a lake here referred to as Broken Tower Lake. 4 miles by 1, some 200 yards or so off the eastern shore was a 70’ stone tower sitting quietly in the lake, stretching up to the broken crown.
Stories were that this entire land was part of the Himaya of Rand – the great orcish empire that was destroyed some 150 years or so ago. Might have been an outpost, astrologer’s tower, shaman’s tower – who knows.
We moved on a bit longer until we were called to rest at the north end of the lake. Trentis let us know we would make base camp by midday tomorrow, had once more set of falls we had to lift the carts over so to eat well and get some rest. Again, Dizzy was singled out to do some grunt work, given a 1 gallon bucket and told to go back and forth to the lake and fill the water casks on the 4th cart – each of which was 20 gallons alone.
While he was going back and forth, he did spot a disturbed outline in the wood line – 30’ long, 6’ at the shoulder, and watching the group. Rock Drake – and camouflaged. He came back and informed Trentis and the group was paying so much attention to the Drake that it went back into the woods and faded from sight.
Still being eagle eyed, Dizzy went back to loading up the casks with water, seeing the drake was hiding on the river bank now and inching closer. We were all once again made away and Dizzy made believe to fall as the drake launched itself into the air to attack. Throughout the group and the camp, missile weapons fired – all of them hitting the hide and bouncing away. The hide was just as tough as suspected.
Magic missiles fired and the giant slayed raised pikes as the drake made to dive the group and was hit enough that it was deterred, winging over and flying further up mountain and away from the party. We waited to make sure it was driven away and then set off to finish making camp for tonight.
Thursday, September 14, 2017
Meet 24, Adv 4, 9/9/17
Here it is, 10 years to date since this group had first gotten together. I know there are longer lasting groups but I am very happy with my friends and our camraderie.
This was the start of the 4th adventure, Three Little Pigs, and we are still down 1 at the table as finding a suitable replacement has been a nightmare so far. Lots of feelers and bites, no one to sit and commit. Hopefully very soon.
Write up follows:
The party has convened at the Third Reeve’s Office on Firemonth the 1st to meet with Theros and go over the contract that he has worked on with and for the party in regards to their employment with House Illytch. The dwarven Reeve was warm to the group and we met with Chancellor Casmier from House Illytch to go over the contract.
The party took their time reading the document, asking questions about it and getting clarification as need be. The contract was as follows:
THIS Agreement made as of the 1st day of Firemonth, of the year 190 in the 30th age, between House Illytch operating under the laws of Thane Ufrecta Jarlborrin in the Thanedom of Sorton, in the collective former Himaya of Rand; and the congregated assemblage of personages designated by the Third Reeve Theros of Sorton heretofore identified as “the Party”, currently residing in the Thanedom of Sorton, in the collective former Himaya of Rand.
WHEREAS House Illytch desires to obtain the benefit of the services of the Party, and the Party desires to render such services on the terms and conditions set forth for a period to last until the final days of the Autumnal months of the year 190 in the 30th age. This Agreement may be extended should the work of House Illytch require and both the House and The Party agree to extending this contract to the final days of the next season as well.
IN consideration of the promises the House and the Party agree as follows:
1. Employment. The Party agrees that they will at all times faithfully, industriously, and to the best of their skill, ability, experience and talents, perform all of the duties required of his position. In carrying out these duties and responsibilities, the Party shall comply with all House policies, procedures, rules and regulations, both written and oral, as are announced by the House from time to time. It is also understood and agreed to by the Party that their assignment, duties and responsibilities and reporting arrangements may be changed by the House in its sole discretion without causing termination of this agreement.
2. Position Title. As a collective mercenary assemblage, the Party is required to perform the following duties and undertake the following responsibilities in a professional manner.
(a) Defend all property and staff of House Illytch should it come under assault by all manner of the Five M’s (melee, missile, magical, martial, and miraculous) means at the Party’s abilities.
(b) Keep the secrets and doings of House Illytch’s operations private and unshared while employed by House Illytch.
(c) Dispatch with all prejudice any members of the K’Morat kobold tribes or warriors of the same if they prove to be a threat to House Illytch’s operations, property, or people whether by deed, action, or proximity.
(d) Aid and answer any missions as deemed required by Ordinates or Subordinates of House Illytch while on duty away from Sorton.
(e) Other duties as may arise from time to time and as may be assigned to the Party.
3. Compensation
(a) As full compensation for all services provided the Party shall be paid at the rate of 41 nobles/day. Such payments shall be subject to such normal statutory deductions by the House should the Party find themselves de-manned and unable to function at full capacity due to injury or death. Actual payment of coins may be impossible to dispense while the party is in the field. A running tally of credit may be established for the Party until such time they are able to return to Sorton for payment.
(b) There will be a bonus of 37 crowns for any K’Morat warren that has been routed should the warren number under 60, and 58 crowns should the warren number over 59.
(c) Any treasure, coinage, goods, or property of value found while under the employ of House Illytch shall be divided evenly between the House and the Party with the exceptions of food stuffs or drink which will be the Party’s to keep. Should any eldritch items be found, the Party has first rights to them if they want with the House taking compensation equal to 120% of field appraisal value in trade. Otherwise the House may either take possession of the eldritch item at 85% field appraisal value if it is desired, or the eldritch item may be sold on open market and the proceeds divided evenly.
(d) All reasonable expenses arising out of employment shall be reimbursed assuming authorized on their incurring.
4. Benefits. The House shall at its expense provide the Party with the equivalent of 1 Healing Draught per personage every 4 days.
5. Performance Review. The House will be provided with a written performance appraisal after 18 days and again after 45 days and said appraisal will be reviewed at which time all aspects of the assessment can be fully discussed.
6. Termination.
(a) The Party may terminate this agreement and their employment should the House fail to abide their contractual agreements. A written notice must be given to House Illytch, Third Reeve Theros, and Thane Jarlborrin within five days of the Party abandoning this contract. A review board and Zone of Truth will determine the veracity of this decision.
(b) The House may terminate this agreement and the Party’s employment at any time, without notice or payment in lieu of notice, only for sufficient cause (see section 2 above).
7. Entire Agreement. This agreement contains the entire agreement between the House and the Party, superseding in all respects any and all prior oral or written agreements or understandings pertaining to the employment of the Party by the House and shall be amended or modified only by written instrument signed by both of the parties hereto.
IN witness whereof, House Illytch has caused this agreement to be executed by its duly authorized officers and ratified below by all parties.
Yeah, it was an eyeful.
However, the group felt it was a good contract and although questions and clarifications were asked, the only material change they made was in section 3c. The decision was that after 45 days, assuming the group has received a good review from House Illytch, the percentage valued for magical items would be changed from 120% and 85% for calculation to 110% and 95% for calculation – still giving the House the greater value for magical item exchange, but bringing the difference from a 35% swing to a 15% swing.
The party then signed off on the contract, their signatures witnessed by the Reeve and the Chancellor, tying the party to House Illytch for the remainder of this season and the next – with the option to extend to the winter months should the need arise.
We then talked to Chancellor about our mission. There is a camp that has been established across the Morat border, about 2-3 days up the Enderlyn River. The denizens are in the process of gathering a type of quick growing fungus that was spotted in the area some time ago, for which House Illytch will use in its own apothecary and alchemy labs here in Sorton, selling the extras to other merchants that are searching for the reagents and are willing to pay.
However, K’Morat kobolds have become brazen and aggressive and over the last few months have gone from ones and twos, to 10’s and more assaulting harvesters in the area.
The Base Camp has walls and guards, but it doesn’t have a strike team capable of going out and routing these warrens of K’Morat kobolds. That is what the group has been hired for. There are 2 other mercenary groups at the Base Camp in House Illytch’s employ – a 10-20 contingent of Randari rangers and scouts who originally discovered the precious fungi, and a 6-8 count of professional giant killers who patrol the Base Camp and their job is pretty much self-explanatory.
We were invited back to House Illytch to set up a temporary home for the time being while the caravan is being set up and should be leaving on either the 2nd or the 3rd. The House stores would be made available to us to equip ourselves before leaving Sorton, with the understanding that although there will be some stores at Base Camp, anything else we would need might take as much as 6 days to replenish us away from Sorton.
During this time Darius was invited/instructed by his father to attend a mandatory family dinner. So our slinger/fighter with a heavy heart arrived at the Diamondcutter home and went to the awkward dinner with his father Gordon, mother Ovira, eldest brother Gordson, eldest living sister Ana, and his next oldest brother Dorthak. Twilaine was working at the family shoppe and not expected to be at this dinner.
It went about as poorly as Darius expected. There was more entreaties to stop being a mercenary, join the family business, and discussion about the raid on the Temple of Loki. Shock at what occurred, but it was also some dismay on how it would look to the family. As the meal went on Darius was morose and resigned to the fact that his father had 2 things at the core of all his complaints and requests: control of his family and their doings, and how anyone’s actions make him and the family appear.
When it came time to get to the crux of the matter, he offered Darius a 5% controlling stake in the company at 4th owner of the Diamondcutter Gem and Jewelsmiths. This had Gordson shocked and the others at the table clamoring for Darius to avoid the deal and to make his escape. Darius asked for a notary and Gordon, feeling smug, had one summoned and the deal written up – giving Darius a part of the family business – as long as he recanted any other signed contracts and gives up his mercenary career.
Reading the page Darius nodded his head, tore the paper in half, crumpled it up, and burned it on the candelabra while Gordon screamed at him to get out and he was cut off and Darius left after getting quiet support from Dorthak and Ovira.
Back at House Illytch, he tried to explain his problems to the rest of the party who looked at Darius bemusedly. So, getting a part of the family business and set up for life was getting you upset? He didn’t get much sympathy but the group did welcome him with open arms.
We filled up at the stores and then after making sure that all our packs were set and any gear we needed was in place, the party was going to get some sleep. The next day would see some of the party members heading to the Grim Gauntlets and try out for the Fighter’s Guild – knowing that some trickery of Loki would nullify some of the padded and safety weapons that the group would be fighting with. After that we should be then headed for Base Camp on the 3rd.
This was the start of the 4th adventure, Three Little Pigs, and we are still down 1 at the table as finding a suitable replacement has been a nightmare so far. Lots of feelers and bites, no one to sit and commit. Hopefully very soon.
Write up follows:
The party has convened at the Third Reeve’s Office on Firemonth the 1st to meet with Theros and go over the contract that he has worked on with and for the party in regards to their employment with House Illytch. The dwarven Reeve was warm to the group and we met with Chancellor Casmier from House Illytch to go over the contract.
The party took their time reading the document, asking questions about it and getting clarification as need be. The contract was as follows:
THIS Agreement made as of the 1st day of Firemonth, of the year 190 in the 30th age, between House Illytch operating under the laws of Thane Ufrecta Jarlborrin in the Thanedom of Sorton, in the collective former Himaya of Rand; and the congregated assemblage of personages designated by the Third Reeve Theros of Sorton heretofore identified as “the Party”, currently residing in the Thanedom of Sorton, in the collective former Himaya of Rand.
WHEREAS House Illytch desires to obtain the benefit of the services of the Party, and the Party desires to render such services on the terms and conditions set forth for a period to last until the final days of the Autumnal months of the year 190 in the 30th age. This Agreement may be extended should the work of House Illytch require and both the House and The Party agree to extending this contract to the final days of the next season as well.
IN consideration of the promises the House and the Party agree as follows:
1. Employment. The Party agrees that they will at all times faithfully, industriously, and to the best of their skill, ability, experience and talents, perform all of the duties required of his position. In carrying out these duties and responsibilities, the Party shall comply with all House policies, procedures, rules and regulations, both written and oral, as are announced by the House from time to time. It is also understood and agreed to by the Party that their assignment, duties and responsibilities and reporting arrangements may be changed by the House in its sole discretion without causing termination of this agreement.
2. Position Title. As a collective mercenary assemblage, the Party is required to perform the following duties and undertake the following responsibilities in a professional manner.
(a) Defend all property and staff of House Illytch should it come under assault by all manner of the Five M’s (melee, missile, magical, martial, and miraculous) means at the Party’s abilities.
(b) Keep the secrets and doings of House Illytch’s operations private and unshared while employed by House Illytch.
(c) Dispatch with all prejudice any members of the K’Morat kobold tribes or warriors of the same if they prove to be a threat to House Illytch’s operations, property, or people whether by deed, action, or proximity.
(d) Aid and answer any missions as deemed required by Ordinates or Subordinates of House Illytch while on duty away from Sorton.
(e) Other duties as may arise from time to time and as may be assigned to the Party.
3. Compensation
(a) As full compensation for all services provided the Party shall be paid at the rate of 41 nobles/day. Such payments shall be subject to such normal statutory deductions by the House should the Party find themselves de-manned and unable to function at full capacity due to injury or death. Actual payment of coins may be impossible to dispense while the party is in the field. A running tally of credit may be established for the Party until such time they are able to return to Sorton for payment.
(b) There will be a bonus of 37 crowns for any K’Morat warren that has been routed should the warren number under 60, and 58 crowns should the warren number over 59.
(c) Any treasure, coinage, goods, or property of value found while under the employ of House Illytch shall be divided evenly between the House and the Party with the exceptions of food stuffs or drink which will be the Party’s to keep. Should any eldritch items be found, the Party has first rights to them if they want with the House taking compensation equal to 120% of field appraisal value in trade. Otherwise the House may either take possession of the eldritch item at 85% field appraisal value if it is desired, or the eldritch item may be sold on open market and the proceeds divided evenly.
(d) All reasonable expenses arising out of employment shall be reimbursed assuming authorized on their incurring.
4. Benefits. The House shall at its expense provide the Party with the equivalent of 1 Healing Draught per personage every 4 days.
5. Performance Review. The House will be provided with a written performance appraisal after 18 days and again after 45 days and said appraisal will be reviewed at which time all aspects of the assessment can be fully discussed.
6. Termination.
(a) The Party may terminate this agreement and their employment should the House fail to abide their contractual agreements. A written notice must be given to House Illytch, Third Reeve Theros, and Thane Jarlborrin within five days of the Party abandoning this contract. A review board and Zone of Truth will determine the veracity of this decision.
(b) The House may terminate this agreement and the Party’s employment at any time, without notice or payment in lieu of notice, only for sufficient cause (see section 2 above).
7. Entire Agreement. This agreement contains the entire agreement between the House and the Party, superseding in all respects any and all prior oral or written agreements or understandings pertaining to the employment of the Party by the House and shall be amended or modified only by written instrument signed by both of the parties hereto.
IN witness whereof, House Illytch has caused this agreement to be executed by its duly authorized officers and ratified below by all parties.
However, the group felt it was a good contract and although questions and clarifications were asked, the only material change they made was in section 3c. The decision was that after 45 days, assuming the group has received a good review from House Illytch, the percentage valued for magical items would be changed from 120% and 85% for calculation to 110% and 95% for calculation – still giving the House the greater value for magical item exchange, but bringing the difference from a 35% swing to a 15% swing.
The party then signed off on the contract, their signatures witnessed by the Reeve and the Chancellor, tying the party to House Illytch for the remainder of this season and the next – with the option to extend to the winter months should the need arise.
We then talked to Chancellor about our mission. There is a camp that has been established across the Morat border, about 2-3 days up the Enderlyn River. The denizens are in the process of gathering a type of quick growing fungus that was spotted in the area some time ago, for which House Illytch will use in its own apothecary and alchemy labs here in Sorton, selling the extras to other merchants that are searching for the reagents and are willing to pay.
However, K’Morat kobolds have become brazen and aggressive and over the last few months have gone from ones and twos, to 10’s and more assaulting harvesters in the area.
The Base Camp has walls and guards, but it doesn’t have a strike team capable of going out and routing these warrens of K’Morat kobolds. That is what the group has been hired for. There are 2 other mercenary groups at the Base Camp in House Illytch’s employ – a 10-20 contingent of Randari rangers and scouts who originally discovered the precious fungi, and a 6-8 count of professional giant killers who patrol the Base Camp and their job is pretty much self-explanatory.
We were invited back to House Illytch to set up a temporary home for the time being while the caravan is being set up and should be leaving on either the 2nd or the 3rd. The House stores would be made available to us to equip ourselves before leaving Sorton, with the understanding that although there will be some stores at Base Camp, anything else we would need might take as much as 6 days to replenish us away from Sorton.
During this time Darius was invited/instructed by his father to attend a mandatory family dinner. So our slinger/fighter with a heavy heart arrived at the Diamondcutter home and went to the awkward dinner with his father Gordon, mother Ovira, eldest brother Gordson, eldest living sister Ana, and his next oldest brother Dorthak. Twilaine was working at the family shoppe and not expected to be at this dinner.
It went about as poorly as Darius expected. There was more entreaties to stop being a mercenary, join the family business, and discussion about the raid on the Temple of Loki. Shock at what occurred, but it was also some dismay on how it would look to the family. As the meal went on Darius was morose and resigned to the fact that his father had 2 things at the core of all his complaints and requests: control of his family and their doings, and how anyone’s actions make him and the family appear.
When it came time to get to the crux of the matter, he offered Darius a 5% controlling stake in the company at 4th owner of the Diamondcutter Gem and Jewelsmiths. This had Gordson shocked and the others at the table clamoring for Darius to avoid the deal and to make his escape. Darius asked for a notary and Gordon, feeling smug, had one summoned and the deal written up – giving Darius a part of the family business – as long as he recanted any other signed contracts and gives up his mercenary career.
Reading the page Darius nodded his head, tore the paper in half, crumpled it up, and burned it on the candelabra while Gordon screamed at him to get out and he was cut off and Darius left after getting quiet support from Dorthak and Ovira.
Back at House Illytch, he tried to explain his problems to the rest of the party who looked at Darius bemusedly. So, getting a part of the family business and set up for life was getting you upset? He didn’t get much sympathy but the group did welcome him with open arms.
We filled up at the stores and then after making sure that all our packs were set and any gear we needed was in place, the party was going to get some sleep. The next day would see some of the party members heading to the Grim Gauntlets and try out for the Fighter’s Guild – knowing that some trickery of Loki would nullify some of the padded and safety weapons that the group would be fighting with. After that we should be then headed for Base Camp on the 3rd.
Friday, August 25, 2017
Meet 12, Adv B4, 8/23/17 - Youth Group
The youths’ had their first “captured monster interrogation situation” where there was the call to let them go or kill them upon completion. We had 1 vote for let them go, one for torture and let them go, and the last was looking for a place to sheath his sword and hobgoblin spleen seemed like a good scabbard.
It was settled on one and one and the bloodletting happened. Knowing this adventure the sheer amount of Cyndicians they are going to run into, the “let’s kill them” player is going to be hard pressed to keep his sword out of the NPC’s backs
Write up follows:
The first hobgoblin was awake and was willing to answer questions. He could understand common but couldn’t speak it, so it was up to Volkan to do the questioning. There was some talk to torture the guy, including slicing off his nipples and cutting off a foot – but we settled on stern words and continuous questioning – mainly to get a better feel for the Zargonite was of doing things.
Finally he was appealing to Volkan to let him go – stick and carrot. Offered to answer a variety of further questions and even though he had been stabbed in both thighs and we took his Morningstar – when we cut the ropes free and let him go he thanked the party profusely and made his way back to the portal down to the 5th level and disappeared from sight.
That left the other hobgoblin who eventually awoke and claimed to have amnesia. He could speak common and hobgoblin, and had some symbols to Zargon branded into his shoulders which upon seeing, called out a prayer to heal himself and the broken leg he had gotten from Mark during the capture had healed up.
Hobgoblin priest. Not a good idea.
So it was Delsin and an overhand chop severed the hobgoblin’s legs and then with Heatstroke flaming he cauterized the wounds while Volkan finished him off with a single thrust of his dagger.
We listened. No wondering monsters, just the sound a door opening and closing far in the distance. The group discussed options and we wanted to explore the few areas left on this level. First we were going to go back to the room that radiated cold. Mark’s connection to Gorm had been growing and he was able to place a prayer on Delsin that would protect the fighter from cold and cold based attacks.
So we all made our way to the door, checked it (yes, it was still cold), and then opened up and peered in. The room was huge, there was a raised metal bin on the northwest corner, 4 huge tables, and three of the falls had shelves on them with clay jars and pots. Seemed to be some ceremony or embalming room. Delsin entered, sword out but not active – just the strange ghostly green swirls coming off its blade. The cold and frost in the room wasn’t affecting him, actually melting under his footsteps and then refreezing when he moved on.
About half way across the chamber he decided to turn around and return to the door when his way was blocked by a 7’ tall anthropomorphic shadow. He made noises like he wished to pass and the shadow remained between him and the door. So he raised his weapon and said Heatstroke, igniting the fires and making the blade glow brightly.
Unfortunately, this revealed 4 other shadows stalking out of the gloom and behind the fighter, surrounding him. Mark raised his symbol and called out to Gorm to help TURN these undead! And although it was good prayer, the effect seemed to fizzle as the shadows lunged towards Delsin.
The fighter swung his sword down from Crown to Crotch, hoping to split the shadow and run through it. It didn’t happen. Instead he felt a weakening and shuddering as the shadow stole some of his strength, the fighter gasping in shock as he pushed through the non-corporeal enemy and staged towards the door.
The shadows were moaning and running across the floor towards us. We let the door slam closed and charged down the hallway to the 30’ square chamber that had all the scattered skeletal remains about the floor. We hit the door here, piled in, and slammed it closed – the party whirling around swords up and ready to attack…nothing – the shadows did not follow us.
However, we heard a shuffling behind us and there were 2 Cyndicians, wearing black cloaks and what seemed to be bird or vulture masks. They had a tool belt under their cloak and were carrying a number of thin boards cut to lengths and strapped with lengths of leather.
Delsin wanted to kill them.
He was talked out of it by the other 3. He was not happy.
We talked to the vulture men who said they were waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting to wait. What could they be waiting for? Death. Coming here? He’s always coming. Do you worship death? No, we are waiting.
Delsin was growing more wroth as they spoke and he flat out asked one of them do you want death to come now? The vulture man nodded yes and our fighter drew Heatstroke in a single flaring sweep and before anyone could stop it, slammed it down and across the first vulture man’s chest. As he was going down screaming, Mark was at the Cyndician’s side and calling on Gorm to heal this man – reversing most of the damage.
Delsin was castigated to knock that crap off but the fighter did ask the Cyndician if he saw death in that split instant before he was healed. All he did was hiss and look at his ripped robe and angry scar. The two Cyndician’s looked at one another and said they would follow Delsin for now. Because it’s obvious that he will bring death.
As for the rest of us, there was talk of making another run at the cold room and the shades within. Mark wanted to try to turn them a second time and the group was going to be ready. So we went down the hall, pushed to door open, and Delsin went in, Heatstroke on and spitting hot light. One by one, the shadows emerged from the gloom surrounding our fighter until the last one showed – and then Mark called out to Gorm once again, demanding that these undead things flee and turn!
And it worked.
And unseen wind surrounded Mark, bathing him in Gorm’s blue tinged light, streaking out and sending all 5 of the Shades across the chamber and piled them into the metal bin where they stayed moaning and flailing about.
Delsin crept to the bin and peered in. It was filled with gray linen wrappings used for mummification and filled to almost 3’ in height. While the shades were scrabbling away, he felt around until he managed to grip the metal handle of some chest. He dragged it up and out, bringing it to the hall and then went back to the bin. Mark was sweating fiercely now – the struggle to hold the undead at bay was taxing him and he muttered out for Delsin to hurry. The fighter poked around the bin for a bit until he came upon a burlap sack. He snagged it, pulled it free, and turned as the shades pushed off from the wall and started to cross the room.
“Run!”
Everyone yelled, Mark dropping his arm and Delsin dragging the priest out of the room and back to the hall. We let the door slam behind us and ran down the hall again and back to the skeleton room. Door closed we waited…and the shadows did not follow.
The vulture men were watching us as Safir used his picks to open the chest lock and we tilted it back to peer within. There were hundreds of gold crowns, a smattering of silver, and on top was a translucent potion which a quick test showed to be invisibility. We gave that one to Safir and split up the treasure accordingly.
This left the other bag which we opened to show 5 humanoid skulls that have gone yellow with age. Mark had an idea and lined them up one after the other. He then lifted his Mace of Gorm and brought it smashing down on the first skull. It shattered and in the not too far distance, we heard a high pitched whining scream. Shadows? Maybe! He did it again, and another scream! Three, Four, Five! After some time the screaming faded away and the group went back to the cold room again to look around.
The room was opened and it was…cool. Not cold, just cool. There was still frost on the ground but the shelves and tables were wet. We cautiously looked, and the shadows were gone. The only sign they had been here were the black glue like staining on the linens in the bin.
We looked over the chamber for anything else of value and again for secret doors – finding neither.
So the talk was to go back through the area where the zombies had attacked us, Delsin letting us know that he had shut the door on two of them, and then after taking care of them, continue on to the corner area where there is a small section of the level we hadn’t checked yet. If it was a bust, we would go back to the hall with the ladder down to the 5th level and check the rest of the distance north. Our investigation shows that there is a decent section in the middle of the 4th floor that had not been accounted for.
We crossed the chamber and went out the door on the east side. From here it was as we remembered a day and a half ago down the hall and a turn south. There were a number of back and forth passages here, the dead Cyndician in the wolf mask and the 4 hacked up zombies were still here where we left them. Down the last western passage Delsin led us back to a closed door where we once more drew up in line and then marched in.
Two zombies were here in some government functionary’s tomb. The coffin had been torn apart and the two zombies headed for us. But Mark once more called to Gorm and with another blue tinged blessing – sent both of the zombies staggering back and cowering along the back wall.
We stalked forward and everyone swung at once. Delsin’s run in with the shadows earlier had sapped the fighter’s strength a bit but he was still able to do punishing damage. As we struck the zombies the turning faded and the undead spun about to face us. The party hit and struck and stabbed repeatedly until one and then the 2nd one fell over.
As soon as the 1st zombie was taken down the two vulture wearing Cyndicians said “it is time” and whirled into action. They took off the wooden planks and undid the straps. Then they laid them out and quickly the sound of hammering filled the room. We were watching bemused until after a few minutes it was obvious – they were building a simple coffin.
As soon as it was finished they ran forward, grabbed the zombie, and tossed it in the coffin. They then nailed the lid closed and sat back exhausted and happy. As one of them was bundling up the now smaller pile of wood, the second one came to the group and said, “Waiting is over. Coffin is built.” He then held his hand out and said, “10 crowns please.”
What?
Delsin was ready to hack up another one when Safir said, “please. That was actually impressive. I will give 5, if you want to, or anyone wants to, match my donation?”
Mark took out 3 crowns and Volkan pulled out 1. We all looked at Delsin who muttered this was a Gorm damned waste of time and money and then thrust the coin at the vulture guy saying, “Here, take it.”
The vulture masked Cyndicians thanked us and then left the room, 10 crowns richer and seemingly happy. The group was pretty sure Delsin was murmuring “never again” but no one wanted to challenge the fighter on this for now.
We left the now dead zombie room and made our way back to the hall and then south. From here we travelled east until we arrived at a turn to the north where a 7’ diameter stone boulder was propped up here. This was the rock that scared us yesterday. We picked past it and started heading north up the long passage when we saw another closed door on the left hand side.
Some listening allowed the party to hear something wet and fleshy moving in there, so it was weapons ready and then bursting the door open. A 30’x30’ room with a coffin in the center. A 9’ long, 3’ diameter worm like thing with 8 2’ tentacles around its mouth was questing towards us and making gurgling snoring sounds.
Weapons were hot as we plied in. Safir’s arrow was lost in the fleshy back of the worm and Volkan channeled his energy down, ripping the air in front of him with a shoving blast and shouting out, “Mahjykiyu Missihlyu!”. A bolt of yellow fire tore into the worm who reared back but kept on. We hit and thrust and stabbed, but the worm didn’t die. Instead it flailed out with its tentacles – smacking wetly into Mark and Delsin who were at the front, and a few tentacles managed to sneak past and strike Volkan.
The hits were painful but not damaging. But it was the slime on the tentacles that gave the group pause and each person struck on bare skin or through clothes felt a burning buzzing on their skin that threatened to paralyze them – but for each one – only the adrenaline and sheer will at this time kept them from freezing in place. But knowing now the danger they faced (Mark called it a Crawler) the group was going to have to redouble their efforts and take this menace down swiftly.
It was settled on one and one and the bloodletting happened. Knowing this adventure the sheer amount of Cyndicians they are going to run into, the “let’s kill them” player is going to be hard pressed to keep his sword out of the NPC’s backs
Write up follows:
The first hobgoblin was awake and was willing to answer questions. He could understand common but couldn’t speak it, so it was up to Volkan to do the questioning. There was some talk to torture the guy, including slicing off his nipples and cutting off a foot – but we settled on stern words and continuous questioning – mainly to get a better feel for the Zargonite was of doing things.
Finally he was appealing to Volkan to let him go – stick and carrot. Offered to answer a variety of further questions and even though he had been stabbed in both thighs and we took his Morningstar – when we cut the ropes free and let him go he thanked the party profusely and made his way back to the portal down to the 5th level and disappeared from sight.
That left the other hobgoblin who eventually awoke and claimed to have amnesia. He could speak common and hobgoblin, and had some symbols to Zargon branded into his shoulders which upon seeing, called out a prayer to heal himself and the broken leg he had gotten from Mark during the capture had healed up.
Hobgoblin priest. Not a good idea.
So it was Delsin and an overhand chop severed the hobgoblin’s legs and then with Heatstroke flaming he cauterized the wounds while Volkan finished him off with a single thrust of his dagger.
We listened. No wondering monsters, just the sound a door opening and closing far in the distance. The group discussed options and we wanted to explore the few areas left on this level. First we were going to go back to the room that radiated cold. Mark’s connection to Gorm had been growing and he was able to place a prayer on Delsin that would protect the fighter from cold and cold based attacks.
So we all made our way to the door, checked it (yes, it was still cold), and then opened up and peered in. The room was huge, there was a raised metal bin on the northwest corner, 4 huge tables, and three of the falls had shelves on them with clay jars and pots. Seemed to be some ceremony or embalming room. Delsin entered, sword out but not active – just the strange ghostly green swirls coming off its blade. The cold and frost in the room wasn’t affecting him, actually melting under his footsteps and then refreezing when he moved on.
About half way across the chamber he decided to turn around and return to the door when his way was blocked by a 7’ tall anthropomorphic shadow. He made noises like he wished to pass and the shadow remained between him and the door. So he raised his weapon and said Heatstroke, igniting the fires and making the blade glow brightly.
Unfortunately, this revealed 4 other shadows stalking out of the gloom and behind the fighter, surrounding him. Mark raised his symbol and called out to Gorm to help TURN these undead! And although it was good prayer, the effect seemed to fizzle as the shadows lunged towards Delsin.
The fighter swung his sword down from Crown to Crotch, hoping to split the shadow and run through it. It didn’t happen. Instead he felt a weakening and shuddering as the shadow stole some of his strength, the fighter gasping in shock as he pushed through the non-corporeal enemy and staged towards the door.
The shadows were moaning and running across the floor towards us. We let the door slam closed and charged down the hallway to the 30’ square chamber that had all the scattered skeletal remains about the floor. We hit the door here, piled in, and slammed it closed – the party whirling around swords up and ready to attack…nothing – the shadows did not follow us.
However, we heard a shuffling behind us and there were 2 Cyndicians, wearing black cloaks and what seemed to be bird or vulture masks. They had a tool belt under their cloak and were carrying a number of thin boards cut to lengths and strapped with lengths of leather.
Delsin wanted to kill them.
He was talked out of it by the other 3. He was not happy.
We talked to the vulture men who said they were waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting to wait. What could they be waiting for? Death. Coming here? He’s always coming. Do you worship death? No, we are waiting.
Delsin was growing more wroth as they spoke and he flat out asked one of them do you want death to come now? The vulture man nodded yes and our fighter drew Heatstroke in a single flaring sweep and before anyone could stop it, slammed it down and across the first vulture man’s chest. As he was going down screaming, Mark was at the Cyndician’s side and calling on Gorm to heal this man – reversing most of the damage.
Delsin was castigated to knock that crap off but the fighter did ask the Cyndician if he saw death in that split instant before he was healed. All he did was hiss and look at his ripped robe and angry scar. The two Cyndician’s looked at one another and said they would follow Delsin for now. Because it’s obvious that he will bring death.
As for the rest of us, there was talk of making another run at the cold room and the shades within. Mark wanted to try to turn them a second time and the group was going to be ready. So we went down the hall, pushed to door open, and Delsin went in, Heatstroke on and spitting hot light. One by one, the shadows emerged from the gloom surrounding our fighter until the last one showed – and then Mark called out to Gorm once again, demanding that these undead things flee and turn!
And it worked.
And unseen wind surrounded Mark, bathing him in Gorm’s blue tinged light, streaking out and sending all 5 of the Shades across the chamber and piled them into the metal bin where they stayed moaning and flailing about.
Delsin crept to the bin and peered in. It was filled with gray linen wrappings used for mummification and filled to almost 3’ in height. While the shades were scrabbling away, he felt around until he managed to grip the metal handle of some chest. He dragged it up and out, bringing it to the hall and then went back to the bin. Mark was sweating fiercely now – the struggle to hold the undead at bay was taxing him and he muttered out for Delsin to hurry. The fighter poked around the bin for a bit until he came upon a burlap sack. He snagged it, pulled it free, and turned as the shades pushed off from the wall and started to cross the room.
“Run!”
Everyone yelled, Mark dropping his arm and Delsin dragging the priest out of the room and back to the hall. We let the door slam behind us and ran down the hall again and back to the skeleton room. Door closed we waited…and the shadows did not follow.
The vulture men were watching us as Safir used his picks to open the chest lock and we tilted it back to peer within. There were hundreds of gold crowns, a smattering of silver, and on top was a translucent potion which a quick test showed to be invisibility. We gave that one to Safir and split up the treasure accordingly.
This left the other bag which we opened to show 5 humanoid skulls that have gone yellow with age. Mark had an idea and lined them up one after the other. He then lifted his Mace of Gorm and brought it smashing down on the first skull. It shattered and in the not too far distance, we heard a high pitched whining scream. Shadows? Maybe! He did it again, and another scream! Three, Four, Five! After some time the screaming faded away and the group went back to the cold room again to look around.
The room was opened and it was…cool. Not cold, just cool. There was still frost on the ground but the shelves and tables were wet. We cautiously looked, and the shadows were gone. The only sign they had been here were the black glue like staining on the linens in the bin.
We looked over the chamber for anything else of value and again for secret doors – finding neither.
So the talk was to go back through the area where the zombies had attacked us, Delsin letting us know that he had shut the door on two of them, and then after taking care of them, continue on to the corner area where there is a small section of the level we hadn’t checked yet. If it was a bust, we would go back to the hall with the ladder down to the 5th level and check the rest of the distance north. Our investigation shows that there is a decent section in the middle of the 4th floor that had not been accounted for.
We crossed the chamber and went out the door on the east side. From here it was as we remembered a day and a half ago down the hall and a turn south. There were a number of back and forth passages here, the dead Cyndician in the wolf mask and the 4 hacked up zombies were still here where we left them. Down the last western passage Delsin led us back to a closed door where we once more drew up in line and then marched in.
Two zombies were here in some government functionary’s tomb. The coffin had been torn apart and the two zombies headed for us. But Mark once more called to Gorm and with another blue tinged blessing – sent both of the zombies staggering back and cowering along the back wall.
We stalked forward and everyone swung at once. Delsin’s run in with the shadows earlier had sapped the fighter’s strength a bit but he was still able to do punishing damage. As we struck the zombies the turning faded and the undead spun about to face us. The party hit and struck and stabbed repeatedly until one and then the 2nd one fell over.
As soon as the 1st zombie was taken down the two vulture wearing Cyndicians said “it is time” and whirled into action. They took off the wooden planks and undid the straps. Then they laid them out and quickly the sound of hammering filled the room. We were watching bemused until after a few minutes it was obvious – they were building a simple coffin.
As soon as it was finished they ran forward, grabbed the zombie, and tossed it in the coffin. They then nailed the lid closed and sat back exhausted and happy. As one of them was bundling up the now smaller pile of wood, the second one came to the group and said, “Waiting is over. Coffin is built.” He then held his hand out and said, “10 crowns please.”
What?
Delsin was ready to hack up another one when Safir said, “please. That was actually impressive. I will give 5, if you want to, or anyone wants to, match my donation?”
Mark took out 3 crowns and Volkan pulled out 1. We all looked at Delsin who muttered this was a Gorm damned waste of time and money and then thrust the coin at the vulture guy saying, “Here, take it.”
The vulture masked Cyndicians thanked us and then left the room, 10 crowns richer and seemingly happy. The group was pretty sure Delsin was murmuring “never again” but no one wanted to challenge the fighter on this for now.
We left the now dead zombie room and made our way back to the hall and then south. From here we travelled east until we arrived at a turn to the north where a 7’ diameter stone boulder was propped up here. This was the rock that scared us yesterday. We picked past it and started heading north up the long passage when we saw another closed door on the left hand side.
Some listening allowed the party to hear something wet and fleshy moving in there, so it was weapons ready and then bursting the door open. A 30’x30’ room with a coffin in the center. A 9’ long, 3’ diameter worm like thing with 8 2’ tentacles around its mouth was questing towards us and making gurgling snoring sounds.
Weapons were hot as we plied in. Safir’s arrow was lost in the fleshy back of the worm and Volkan channeled his energy down, ripping the air in front of him with a shoving blast and shouting out, “Mahjykiyu Missihlyu!”. A bolt of yellow fire tore into the worm who reared back but kept on. We hit and thrust and stabbed, but the worm didn’t die. Instead it flailed out with its tentacles – smacking wetly into Mark and Delsin who were at the front, and a few tentacles managed to sneak past and strike Volkan.
The hits were painful but not damaging. But it was the slime on the tentacles that gave the group pause and each person struck on bare skin or through clothes felt a burning buzzing on their skin that threatened to paralyze them – but for each one – only the adrenaline and sheer will at this time kept them from freezing in place. But knowing now the danger they faced (Mark called it a Crawler) the group was going to have to redouble their efforts and take this menace down swiftly.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
One Shot, Delta Green/Cthulu, Final Word
The DM of the one shot had a final after action report which he sent to all the players (and the group at large) in response to my write up and just for completest purposes, I've attached it here.
Attn of: A.S.A.C. [redacted]
Clearance level: Delta Green
Author: Agent [redacted] and Lieutenant [redacted]
Regarding: Operation Last Things Last
Final mission notes enclosed
Mission deemed closed. Friendly Asset Shoaf returned from the field, was not debriefed at this time. Audio recordings from Sgt. Massaro shed some light on mission, due to the failure of himself and Agent Bhul to return DG operatives [redacted], [redacted] and [redacted] of [redacted] also known as G-Cell were temporarily pulled of assignment [redacted] to investigate, at the objections of Doctor [redacted]. This investigation was deemed more immediately important, [redacted] and [redacted] don't consider [redacted][redacted][redacted] to be a flight risk due to its [redacted] hibernation [redacted] class haven't fully [redacted] child can be held at [redacted] indefinitely, or until [redacted].
G-Cell proceeded to coordinates retrieved from Sgt. Massaro's recording, location was as described. Agent [redacted] found two bodies, badly burnt inside a septic tank behind structure, appear to be bodies of Sgt. Massaro and Agent Bhul. Agent on scene determined death of Massaro was caused by a broken neck, likely from fall into tank. Agent Bhul appears to have been killed in the fire, and has defensive wounds on her hands, lacerations likely caused by some kind of knife. In accordance with orders for Operation Last Things Last agents at scene removed bodies to remove evidence of their presence. Agent [redacted] planted a [redacted] device to cause foundation of cabin to collapse and two [redacted] objects recovered from operation [redacted] to render the rest of the land to a pre construction state.
Using DG contacts in local area G-Cell wired Massaro and Bhul's cars for remote control, and for controlled burn. Agents staged a drunk driving accident, using Officer [redacted] on scene to remove evidence of tampering, and push story that Sgt. Massaro crashed into and killed Agent Bhul in a drunk driving accident. Agent [redacted] did not find the body of one "Marlene" on site, so until further evidence is acquired Lieutenant Shoaf's apparent decision to burn Massaro and Bhul has been labeled "Plausibly Necessary" and as such no action to silence or approach Shoaf has been recommended. It is this Agents recommendation that Lieutenant Shoaf be kept under observation until such a time that he needs to be eliminated or reactivated arises.
With the removal of all physical evidence from the residences of Agent Baughman and the apparent death or escape of "Marlene", Operation Last Things Last has been deemed a success. For her successful leadership of the mission Agent Bhul will receive posthumous awards for her service in unrelated FBI operations. Lieutenant Shoaf will receive recommendation for a promotion for their previously undocumented actions in their last combat flight. Sergeant Massaro, unfortunately, will be used to divert attention from the group, our media experts will keep the focus on his disgraceful actions behind the wheel to prevent anyone from digging in the wrong place.
From the desk of Agent [redacted]
Attn of: A.S.A.C. [redacted]
Clearance level: Delta Green
Author: Agent [redacted] and Lieutenant [redacted]
Regarding: Operation Last Things Last
Final mission notes enclosed
Mission deemed closed. Friendly Asset Shoaf returned from the field, was not debriefed at this time. Audio recordings from Sgt. Massaro shed some light on mission, due to the failure of himself and Agent Bhul to return DG operatives [redacted], [redacted] and [redacted] of [redacted] also known as G-Cell were temporarily pulled of assignment [redacted] to investigate, at the objections of Doctor [redacted]. This investigation was deemed more immediately important, [redacted] and [redacted] don't consider [redacted][redacted][redacted] to be a flight risk due to its [redacted] hibernation [redacted] class haven't fully [redacted] child can be held at [redacted] indefinitely, or until [redacted].
G-Cell proceeded to coordinates retrieved from Sgt. Massaro's recording, location was as described. Agent [redacted] found two bodies, badly burnt inside a septic tank behind structure, appear to be bodies of Sgt. Massaro and Agent Bhul. Agent on scene determined death of Massaro was caused by a broken neck, likely from fall into tank. Agent Bhul appears to have been killed in the fire, and has defensive wounds on her hands, lacerations likely caused by some kind of knife. In accordance with orders for Operation Last Things Last agents at scene removed bodies to remove evidence of their presence. Agent [redacted] planted a [redacted] device to cause foundation of cabin to collapse and two [redacted] objects recovered from operation [redacted] to render the rest of the land to a pre construction state.
Using DG contacts in local area G-Cell wired Massaro and Bhul's cars for remote control, and for controlled burn. Agents staged a drunk driving accident, using Officer [redacted] on scene to remove evidence of tampering, and push story that Sgt. Massaro crashed into and killed Agent Bhul in a drunk driving accident. Agent [redacted] did not find the body of one "Marlene" on site, so until further evidence is acquired Lieutenant Shoaf's apparent decision to burn Massaro and Bhul has been labeled "Plausibly Necessary" and as such no action to silence or approach Shoaf has been recommended. It is this Agents recommendation that Lieutenant Shoaf be kept under observation until such a time that he needs to be eliminated or reactivated arises.
With the removal of all physical evidence from the residences of Agent Baughman and the apparent death or escape of "Marlene", Operation Last Things Last has been deemed a success. For her successful leadership of the mission Agent Bhul will receive posthumous awards for her service in unrelated FBI operations. Lieutenant Shoaf will receive recommendation for a promotion for their previously undocumented actions in their last combat flight. Sergeant Massaro, unfortunately, will be used to divert attention from the group, our media experts will keep the focus on his disgraceful actions behind the wheel to prevent anyone from digging in the wrong place.
From the desk of Agent [redacted]
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
One Shot, Delta Green/Cthulu, 8/12/17
For our hiatus, one of my players at the table ran a Delta Green/Cthulu one-shot for us. There were 3 players and the DM, and for a nice change, I had a chance to actually play. Here's the write up in story form from my character's point of view. He died, it was a Cthulu game, so no surprise there.
Attached is the
transcribed voice-over IP recorded audible log of E-5 Sergeant Bryce Massaro,
Intelligence Case Officer for the Department of Defense, Peterson Airforce
Base, Colorado Springs, Colorado. Possession or review of this document is
classified as grade Delta Green and above only.
(5:28 AM, Monday, August
14, 2017)
So here I am, slogging my way north on 25 on my way to
Greenbrier, some shit town on the north end of the state just past Fort
Collins. Trying out my sub-harmonic recorder. Already set up the relay and
upload for NavSat burst at 5 Mhz which should help since I’m going to be on the
east end of the Rocky’s and signal can be dicey.
Showed up for my 5 to 5 DW shift as normal, cup of black
joe and a powerbar on hand as usual. We’ve been doing joint Declass Five
exercises for the last 3 weeks with the Air Force Academy near Glen Eagle and I
fully expected to continue the same crypto-scramble and “prick-prod” we’d been
doing when my OS Superior stopped me in the hall and handed me some new orders.
Being reassigned to some joint multi-department task venture and had to meet
the Agent at the Motel 6 in Greenbrier. By 8.
Fuck a duck. So now I have to stomp slog my way north and
pisspour my way through rush-hour at Denver. I saluted my OS Sup, turned about
face, and made my way to the Armory where I was assigned a 9-19mm Parabellum Beretta
M9 pistol, signing off with Clevis on the dotted line and then high-tailed it
to my Audi A6 and was out of the parking lot 5:04 for a 2 ½ hour commute. At
best.
Got on the Samsung 8 and quick dialed my Pop, Frank,
leaving a message for him that I wasn’t coming home today as I was trucking
north and was on assignment. When I know more, I’ll tell more. Pop’s still
looking out for me since I mustered out of Big Green 13 months ago, parleying
my 4 plus 2 time and experience to the DOD. My headshrink still won’t give me
any pills, saying the night terrors will fade naturally in time. That’s great
doc, until then I’ll still wake up 1 day in 3 covered in sweat with a white
knuckled grip on my pillow. Tell it to Janice who couldn’t stand to be near me
when I was convulsing in bed at 4 in the morning, growling like an animal. So
she left, and truthfully, it’s just easier to flog my log than try to explain
to whatever girl wants to sleep with me why I’m a basket case and won’t talk
about Anbar. Or Fallujah. Or Lisbon.
Fucking Lisbon. Fucking Portugal.
Whatever. I’m doing 73 now on the 25 and making good
time. Going to burst this out and focus on making time.
(7:52 AM, Monday,
August 14, 2017)
Made the trip without issue, just a brake check when
skirting Denver as I missed the start of rush hour by ten to fifteen. The
further north I went, the crappier the towns and the longer the stretches
between them. Made it through Fort Collins with little issue and then at the
north end hit the community of Greenbrier.
You can tell that 20 years ago, it was its own little
town, but both it and Fort C have grown with the influx of Cali immigrants and
Mexican transplants – so there was little to separate the two but for some
residential roads and a stretch of strip malls capitalizing on both sets of
homesteaders.
Found the Motel 6 without issue – typical of its kind –
along the main road, 2 stories, both an inner and outer balcony set up. 4 cars
in the lot; one CO, 2 AZ, and 1 WY. Early morning Coors drinker was sitting on
a plastic chair on the 2nd floor near a set of stairs but other than
that – no one paying attention.
I parked one row away from the hotel, facing towards the
road, and then got out, locking the Audi behind me. Entered the Motel and the
weed-head libtard checking his favorite alt-gov blog on his phone barely
acknowledged I was alive as I walked up to the counter and grunted. After
making sure this was the right place and learning where the pool, spa, and
conference room was, I then asked Mr. Community College drop-out where the
vending machines were and made my way away from the stink of mediocrity and
double timed it up the stairs.
4 quarters later and I was walking along the balcony
munching on my Kit Kat, one bar at a time. I scanned the rooms and windows as I
walked, noting which were open and which weren’t. It was early, or at least
early for the lazy shits that were sleeping away their Monday mornings, and no
one was paying attention to either me or the location. Good.
I dumped the wrapper, walked past the counter again where
the fry-cook failure watched me under his beetled brow, and strode to the
conference room. Empty. No one here. Watch showed 7:45 and no one here, no one
in the lot, nothing even written on the white board.
I stationed myself near the window, facing the door, and
have been flicking the blind over again and again as I scanned the parking lot.
I noted another CO vehicle rolled up, Jeep CJ-7, driver was some ram-rod with a
pair of aviators. He got out, looked around, and stayed by the Jeep, watching
the road. Already going to dislike this job.
(8:57 AM, Monday,
August 14, 2017)
8:00 means 8:00, not 8:05. That is 5 minutes late. Five
minutes where something is not going to plan.
My new direct supervisor for this venture was a battleaxe
career FBI Special Agent identified as Lilliana Buhl. She had the Agency Short
Hair Cut #4 and was what I considered to be thick. Had to be pushing 50 and
from what I can tell, besides being career, most likely didn’t get along with
the higher steps since she was terse, short, and abrupt.
The last one (yes, last one – there are 3 of us – 1 chief
and 2 indians) was the thick neck that had driven up in the Jeep. Jan Shoaf,
and either a flight jock or wannabe flight jock from Peterson.
The job was easy as explained. Had to go to the domicile
of the recently deceased Clyde Bauman and scrub the departed’s domicile for
documents or memorabilia that was deemed “interesting”. Seems Clyde was a
former and well liked member of some shadow org called “The Group.” I had heard
their name bandied about the darkweb and from what I can tell besides being
deep supporters of Bitcoin was that they were a fairly deepstate intel think
group that had their hands in and around many pies that radiated out from
Langley, the Pentagon, and even the Hill.
Why some upper-mid tier desk jockey and 2 grunts were
being sent to do a scout and scour 3 days after the target’s death made no
sense to me if this Bauman was indeed a part of such shadow org, but again –
that’s why I’m the grunt.
But I’m not a moron and when this scout and scour is
over, I have to go back to the DOD so I did ask about a search warrant in case
we are stopped. And I was just looked at like I’m a moron. Just because I’m
half your age doesn’t mean I have half your IQ. Millennial doesn’t mean crybaby
fuckwrangler – it means we’ll question instead of just “assuming it’ll all go
to plan.”
After assuring me we wouldn’t need one, I nodded my head
and mentioned I’d be right back. I headed off to the courtesy desktop the Motel
had near the front counter and spent a few minutes digging around an old Denver
PD PDF archive until I was able to find a blanket search warrant that would pass
casual muster. I printed out 2 copies on the shitty HP and then went to the
counter to harangue the dopeass who was STILL trolling on his phone for a
handful of pens and some index cards that truthfully, should have been already
in the conference room.
Once equipped, I rejoined Buhl and Shoaf, filled out the
warrant, and handed it to Buhl for her perusal. She made a few adjustments to
it and then handed it back. She gave us the address for Bauman’s, and we all
filed out to our respective cars. No way I was driving with either of them and
leave my Audi here? I did note that the WY plate was no longer in the lot but
since the Coors drinker was also missing, I put one and one together and paid
no mind to it.
(11:06 AM, Monday,
August 14, 2017)
I followed Buhl to Bauman’s addy, a set of late 50’s box
style 2x2 apartment buildings that were on the east end of Greenbrier. The
alleys had some tags on them and I noticed a few gang signs in the depressed
neighborhood. Shoaf was taking his sweet time and I assume stopped for a
lollypop to appease his sour puss since he wasn’t here yet.
Scanning the area showed nothing serious in the
neighnorhood, the rats had scurried away when the Ford POS and my Audi rolled
up. There was some motion on a nearby building and I was watching it carefully,
wondering if the addy was being wattched when the blaring of a horn scared the
crap out of me. Some 19 year old Mexican-american was leaning on the horn and
telling me to get out of the road.
I did the license and badge flip trick to get the Chulo
to calm the fuck down but instead the gang-banger is screaming in my face and
shouting “Cop! Cop! Cop!” Just what we don’t want since the locals are poking
noses out to see what’s going on. I tell him to knock it off and motion him
along and he flips me off as I do the same to him, his shit-box Mazda
disappearing around the corner. Shoaf shows up at long last, nods to me, and we
follow Buhl who has this “I’m surrounded by children” grin on her face to the
addy.
There is a mailbox with 1-4 on it and Buhl tells us we
are looking for #4. 1 and 2 are ground floor, 3 and 4 are up a set of shitty
stairs poorly lit to the landing above. We walk up, Buhl showing some field
skill as she shifts her weight and keeps the noise to a minimum; Shoaf blowing
out stealth away with his heavy booted tread.
The landing was left 3 and right 4, 4 showing old police
tape now gone, only a few scraps in the upper corners. I listen to 3 and hear a female voice and the
TV – nothing else. Not sure if we’re being watched, I rip an index card in half
as Buhl unlocks #4, and use a bit of the scotch tape still on the jamb to hold
the card over the peep hole on 3.
I’m on point and we enter. L shaped Kitchen left, living
room right – hallway beyond the L. Fridge recessed drawing on surface, table 2
chairs, a few normal pans, pots, etc. Clear. Foyer key hook with ring, no
stand, umbrella, anything. Living Room worn couch, chair, tube style TV on
drawered stand, coffee table with scattering of books. Quick look, clear.
Shoaf and Buhl follow me in, we’re all on pins and
pistols are noticeable and hot. I motion down the hall and Buhl agrees as Shoaf
goes for a detailed search in the Kitchen and Foyer.
Stealing my spine I go. Short hall, 6 paces, wicker
doored linen closet @ end, door right and left. Smell of dead body is
noticeable. Left is ajar. Linen closet first – four towels, 2 washcloths, half
a box of baking soda. Nothing else. Checked right. Bedroom: bed, dresser single
paperweight and 3 pictures on top. Quick look showed target and similarly aged
woman, and 2 pics of a younger girl estimated age 4-6. Second door beyond here
– suspected closet but not sure. Under bed clear. Bedroom clear.
Second right room was an office. Bauman was a hoarder. No
personal effects anywhere and the place was seriously Spartan, but everything
else he ever did was in here. Office room, LOTS of boxes of paperwork and
stacked up all over. A god-real-forsaken TYPEWRITER was on the desk in front of
the chair. Real old school. No windows. Check and check, clear.
I came back to the hall and give Buhl the thumbs up and
prod the left door open, pistol out. Target died here. Stick of dead body was
strong. Bathroom, busted towel bar, broken toothbrush holder, blood markings on
the tub.
Let Buhl know my findings and she and Shoaf was giving
the place a deeper look over. I stood by the door to the hall, checked 3 again,
and shut the apartment door for now. I let the two of them do what they were
doing. Sudoku puzzles? Reader’s digests and TV Guides? I asked Buhl a few times
what we were looking for and she replied again and every time: something
interesting.
Bug hunt. I was babysitting a FBI career agent on her bug
hunt. Right then my respect for this “mission” was tanking. All I wanted was to
do my job, get my inter-department DD 101 signed off on and head back to my
desk to do something a bit more country specific than this crap.
Buhl was going to take all the records and mentioned that
Bauman had a car nearby on the street. Shoaf had already looked over the key
rings and it had 3 on there each with a Brother P-Touch label on them:
Apartment, Cabin, Toyota. Shoaf and I went out leaving Buhl to look over the
sad leavings and I’m sure her miserably pathetic mullings over her career to date
and found the Corolla parked and untouched.
Older model, tires regular wear, no markings. Trunk had a
gym bag with 2 sets of clothes and boots, worn and dirty. Interior was clean.
Glove box had normal bits of paperwork and insurance paper – plus a set of
coordinates N 40.22.75 W 105.35.06. A quick look on the phone showed it a good
2 plus hours from here, mostly west and south, and along the northern skirt of
the Rocky Mountain National Park.
Shoaf and I went back and informed Buhl who was boxing up
the last of the records and had taken the drawings and pictures of what we now
assumed to be Bauman’s granddaughter Cassie. She wanted to scrub the place down
and then we were to all trip out to this cabin at the coordinates. But Bauman
wasn’t much for cleaning and we found little to do the job right. So she sent
us to the CVS to get some bleach and I’m sitting out here in my Audi with the
half box of baking soda and a towel while Buhl is finishing up her version of Pulp
Fiction and spic and spanning the place. Shoaf and I had loaded her car with
the boxes and anything personal that Bauman had and are now waiting for her
battleaxe highness to emerge so we can get this bughunt on the road.
(2:43 PM, Monday,
August 14, 2017)
Have to burst this now while I still can. Sitting in the
back of Shoaf’s Jeep with the window cracked so Jan and Buhl can’t hear me.
This entire bughunt and scout and scour has gone pear shaped real fast.
We left Bauman’s and followed Buhl back to 25 where we
went south until Loveland. From there she pulled over in the municipal park and
ride and we all piled on with Shoaf since his Jeep was better suited for the
mountains and trails than either of ours. It was a good 45 more minutes west of
Loveland as we made our way through the back roads and smaller places and it
was right around Estes Park that cell service dropped from one bar to “HA HA
HA”.
We followed the nav map as best we could along smaller
roads until we were up some rough back unpaved trail for 2 miles until we
arrived at some Evil Dead cabin in the woods. Faux-logs, wires leading to it so
electric yes, and 2 buildings behind. We parked and listened, it was quiet.
Once again I was investigative man on point so I circled the cabin gun drawn.
8x8 shed, newer construction outhouse, and the dug up bit
and visible hatch of a septic tank. Woodline came right to the back, 25’ tops
clearing. Circling back around there was a waterpump so an artisian well was
here and a woodbin was half full. Filled in Buhl and Shoaf and they went to
front door, I stood by corner and watched back door in case the place had an
unfriendly that was going to pull a runner.
They went in and in a minute the back door opened and I
was motioned to come in.
Cabin had one main room with a stove, kitchenette, bed
and what not. A side bathroom was here but the outhouse led me to believe it
was non-functioning, and a quick check of the tank and bowl confirmed that.
After giving the place a once over, Buhl led us to the sleeping area where
there was a twin bed, night stand, foot locker and an envelope with a green
triangle marked on top.
Shoaf worked on the locker while Buhl read the note. Bauman
must have suspected he was of poor health and commented that there was 20
gallons of gasoline in the shed and they should pour it in the septic tank and
burn what was in there alive and that he was sorry.
Gas? Burn? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot??
Shoaf meanwhile had found 3 Vietnam style active gas
grenades, some museum aged bone handled iron knife, and a leather pouch which
contained a matt of animal hair, some bird feathers, and a handful of human
infant teeth. What a fucking freak.
So we went out back and verified the locked shed DID have
20 1 gallon plastic jerry cans of fucking gasoline! Plus an axe and a book of
matches. What was Bauman planning? We then looked over the outhouse next and it
was just a hole in the ground as expected. So that left the dug up septic tank
and the submarine door style chained down in place hatchway. The heavy metal
hatchway. Chained down.
And I was able to hear a voice, female, calling for help.
In the septic tank. Said it was Marleen Bauman and her husband had trapped her
down here 4 years ago. Wanted to get out and please help.
I turned to Buhl and flat out asked her, is that our
mission? Are we really going to burn some woman alive? Is this the end game?
Buhl was poleaxed and couldn’t answer and after Shoaf and I continued to
question her and SERIOUSLY press the issue, she told us to get back in the Jeep
and that she had to make a call. So here we are, bouncing our way back OUT of
the mountains and heading along to Estes Park so Buhl can make a phone call.
Again, what does Buhl know and why do I get the feeling she can’t be trusted?
She’s been cagey since minute one and I get it, need to know and all that, but
fucks sake – there’s only THREE of us – who the fuck are we going to tell?
(5:37 PM, Monday,
August 14, 2017)
This mission is rating a 9.5 on my
WTF-o-meter. We drove towards Estes Park and stopped at the Friendly Camp
Supply Store just shy of the town where Special Agent Buhl got out of the car
and walked up and down the pullover, gesticulating firmly often and growing
frustrated and angry in between long pauses. Jan seemed to be getting fed up
with Buhl and we muttered out misgivings to one another for now. It was
difficult to read Buhl’s lips, but I did my best and what little I picked up
verified what I had suspected: Buhl was out of her element, there was more we
didn’t know, and she was kicking it up the pole to get someone to tell her to
burn whatever was in the septic tank alive.
She came back and sure enough, informed us that the
mission was to perform Bauman’s final request and that was it. I was stunned.
Alright, what if it WAS Marleen? Four years trapped in a septic tank? In the
dark, no food or water? It made no sense.
This was tugging at my lizard brain and it reminded me of
some of the strange shit myself and Team Bravo had seen in Fallujah. Sergeant
Major Barrows had been on hand then, my SO was in charge of the situation and
he guided myself and the rest of the company through those strange days when
things just didn’t add up.
Best advice he ever gave? “Bryce, do your homework.
Verify and collect intelligence before you commit yourself to an action or an
order that just rankles you the wrong way.”
Since we had cell service, I did my magic and learned
that Marleen Bauman DID die 4 years ago of a heart attack, dying in her sleep.
She was interred at Macklemore Cemetery in Fort Collins and the Bauman’s had 2
children, Michael and Sharon. And Sharon had a daughter named Cassie.
Everything was panning out.
I called Macklemore and spoke to a director, putting on
my best friendly voice and getting him to verify that Marleen was interred
there almost 4 years ago and that Clyde had visited the gravesite no more than
a week ago. I thanked him and asked both Buhl and Shoaf if these facts are true,
than what is buried beneath the ground outside of Bauman’s cabin? To which Buhl
replied that was why we should proceed on the mission.
We went into the camp store where a few purchases were
made, for me I needed another baking soda, 2 bottles of vinegar, a maglight, 2
bottles of Arizona iced tea, and a lighter. I know the others bought their own
purchases and we filed outside to Jan’s jeep. I downed the 2 iced teas and then
filled the glass bottles each half way with baking soda and capped them in
place firmly. I then wrapped everything in the paper bag and we made the drive back
to the Cabin.
We checked under the house – 2’ crawlspace but the pipes
from the bathroom had been jigsawed away, meaning there was no easy way to pour
the gas in. So we’d have to do it under the house. Buhl went to the hatch cover
to listen, Shoaf was bringing me cans of gas, and I was under the house pouring
the first one in slowly.
Buhl informed us she couldn’t hear the falling liguid
which to me meant it was blocked up. But she was listening to the whatever it
was saying it was Marleen, begging for release and its life. I wiggled out,
went to the wood bin and ripped of a length of plywood. Then crawling back
under the house and Jan joined me with the tire iron from the Jeep, I poured
the baking soda down the hole from one of the bottles – and then dumped the
vinegar down the hole as well. We slid the plywood over and jammed the tire
iron between it and the house just in time as the 2 items mixed and blew out
and down the septic line.
Buhl informed us that “Marleen” was yelling “what are you
doing?” and that she could hear liquid running. She was yelling at me to get it
done, get it done! Pour the gas and light it! What the fuck is with that Yankee
Oxford Lima Oxford crap? It’s GASOLINE, I had no interest in going up like a
candle. Bbut a job’s a job, so we dumped 3 more jugs of gas down the hole and
then I lit the fucker and backed away.
Whooosh!
Marleen was screaming and Buhl was sweating and rocking
slightly as the screams were going on. It continued for a while until the fire
died out and then Buhl got up from the ground and her eyes soaking wet and
howling like a banshee, ran off into the woods shrieking and shaking and
moaning. I looked at Shoaf who said merely, “Ugh. Let her go.”
Wow. Hard core, dude.
We went back to dumping gasoline down the hole but after
4 we were stuck again, this time the gas was backed up down the entire septic
pipe. So this time I popped a hole in the plywood cover, did the same baking
soda/vinegar trick but it wasn’t as effective since the pipe was filled with
gas. But the pressure DID force open whatever the “Marleen” had jammed in the
pipe free and the gas was running down again. Another light and WHOOSH! More
fire down the pit.
We could hear only some growling and then nothing.
This was going to take forever and the Marleen was still
jamming the 3” pipe with whatever it had. We needed more material and a better
plan. Plus it was 5 PM and we agreed not to be here after dark. Buhl was still nowhere to be found so I tured on
the Jeep, faced it into the woods, and blew the horn again and again, hoping to
attract Buhl and guide her back to the cabin. Meanwhile Shoaf was gathering the
empty gas cans and policing the area.
Buhl eventually came out of the woods, filthy and
sheepish. She didn’t even thank me for attracting her back, only agreed that we
needed more equipment and had to do this correctly tomorrow. We got back in
Shoaf’s Jeep and began the long ride out of here. Buhl informed us we would be
going back to the Motel 6 to rest up and will be coming back here in the
morning. That was fine by me, but I wanted to hit the Home Depot first and
Shoaf was very big on refilling the jerry cans.
And Buhl? She is sitting there, staring out at the
passing trees in the gathering dark, saying little but her eyes, they have that
stare in them. The stare that says, “I’m not doing well with all this.”
Toughen up, Buttercup. We’re all a bit strung out.
(8:48 PM, Monday,
August 14, 2017)
I love shopping at Home Depot. Hope to hell I get
reimbursed for all this, my Amex took a hit and a half. Purchased a Dewalt 20V
cordless drill and then picked up a ¾” spade bit. We grabbed 3 shovels, I found
a 4’ plumbers crowbar used for lifting manhole covers. 4 gallons of bleach. I
then went to toll rental and they had a gas powered 50’ plumbing snake. Very
neat. Rented that for tomorrow but I had to give a $20 security on top of the
prepay. What am I going to do? Keep the damned thing?
The plan as of now is to drive back with 2 cars, Jan’s
and Lilliana’s. Lilliana parks her rear wheel on the septic hatch cover. We dig
a bit shy of the tank until we get to the waste line, bore in and then snake
whatever mess is in the way , dropping the gas down the hole. After the initial
burn, we pry up a corner of the hatch and ten drop the rest of the gas down,
burn whatever the fuck it is, and I get my DD 101 signed off and get away from
crazy-eyed Buhl and back to my normal non-fucked up 9 to 5.
At least the room at the Motel 6 I have is shitty and the
mattress feels like I’m sleeping on gravel.
(10:16 AM, Tuesday,
August 15, 2017)
Slept like a baby, we all had breakfast, and I snagged an
extra bagel to eat in the car. We’re loaded for bear and I feel pretty
confident about this plan. Jan is noncommittal but he did inform me that Buhl
is still acting strange and we are hoping that when this is over that we never
have to work with her battle-axe crazy ass again.
We’re coming up to the house now so it’s just about game
time.
At this point,
there are snippets of bursts that have been uploaded but they are disjointed
and involve much screaming. Where there were gaps in the burst it has been
noted in the transcription below. We are not sure if Sergeant Massaro was aware
he was recording during these pockets of conversation. Based upon the other
voices that were picked up on the recordings, it is obvious that the volume of
others involved was also just as elevated and chaotic as Sergeant Bryce.
“Burn motherfucker, Burn!”
“No, move the snake back and forth only a little bit. Don’t
want it to grab the end.”
“Fuck this isn’t going to work.”
.
(FEMALE VOICE) “Don’t undo the chain.”
(Metal creaking followed by a broken exchange of
something falling and heavy smashing)
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
(Shots fired)
“Get it! Use the knife!”
(MALE VOICE) “Die you bastard!”
(MALE VOICE) “Die you bastard!”
(Guttural roaring)
“Ah!”
(Shots fired, followed by a pain filled guttural roar)
“Fucking almost hit me, Buhl!”
(More shots)
“Take this, you bitch!”
(Drilling noise and more guttural screams)
.
(FV)”It’s gone.”
“What the fuck!? How the fuck are we going to get it now?”
(FV)”I don’t know. But we have a mission and have to go
after it.”
(MV)”Are you out of your mind?! It flipped a car!”
“There’s a fucking drill sticking out of its kidney!”
.
(FV)”It’s your fault! If you had done your job properly
it wouldn’t have gotten away!”
“Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Ma’am! I not only, WE not only
did our jobs, we went ABOVE and BEYOND the parameters of them as had been set
down by YOU Ma’am!”
(FV)”Don’t take that tone with…”
.
“Just sign it! Sign the damned DD 101 because truthfully
I’ve done my job and I want out of this mission now.”
(MV)”Special Agent Buhl, what more did you expect of us?”
(FV)”How about not letting it escape? How about stopping
it? The job isn’t over yet, kids. Fucking Millennials.”
“Ma’am, you are certifiable and a fucking loon.”
.
(MV)”Ma’am, please put the gun down.”
“You’re going to shoot me?”
(FV)”Give me your gun, Massaro. Now”
(MV)”Ma’am, please.”
(FV)”Gun. Now.”
“Holy shit! You are bat house fucking nuts, Buhl!”
.
(Howling and screaming followed along with the sound of a
shot. It sounds like something is shuffling along and more yelling. Difficult
to discern exact what is happening)
“Fuck! Sssshhhot me in the fuuuughing faccccheee!”
(More struggling and then two voices, FV and we suspect
Massaro give a brief shout and then the sound of falling)
.
(At this point we no longer hear Massaro’s voice and the
burst upload is muffled and garbled as if submerged slightly, but we did manage
to extract this last bit)
(MV)”Fucking die! Die! Burn you! Burn!”
(FV)”Agh! Stop!”
(Sound of liquid falling)
(MV)”You twisted crazy bitch.”
(Sound of a striking match and then a last scream and
burst upload ends)
We did a
clandestine follow up, Jan Shoaf did return to his command yesterday evening on
the 15th and reported to his SO that Special Agent Buhl had finished
with his services and released him. A filed DD 101 interdepartment action
report was on hand and it had a scrawl along the bottom. Handwriting comparison
shows that the signature although marked as Special Agent Lilliana Buhl does
not match her signature on file. Sergeant Massaro has not checked in with the
DOD, and Special Agent Buhl has not reported back to her superiors. Again, this
document is classified as Delta Green.
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