Meet 90, Adv 6, 7/13/19

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

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 89, Adv 6, 7/6/19

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

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 88, Adv 6, 6/29/19

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 87, Adv 6, 6/15/19

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

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 86, Adv 6, 6/8/19

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

Of course its not that straight forward.

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What people?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 85, Adv 5, 5/26/19

Wow! Missed updating this for a bit.

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 84, Adv 5, 5/11/19

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

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

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh.

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

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

Meet 83, Adv 5, 5/4/19

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AVARICE.

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

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

We needed a distraction.

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

Our chance and now.

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

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

Crap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet 82, Adv 5, 4/27/19

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great.

Meet 81, Adv 5, 4/13/19

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

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

Write up follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His back? Still afflicted but less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We didn’t want to stay. At all.

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

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