On the trail of evil!
The party have killed just about every living thing in the caverns - except for the roper, which kicked their arses. Even Frulam Mondath lies dead - and they also have a copy of the cult's map, so they know where the treasure is going - roughly, just not too precisely, and they don't know why either!
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who struggles to breath during job interviews.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, the worst liar in the party, and an almost child-slayer.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, (who had to miss tonight's game).
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the battered and sullen dwarven axeman, who is never far away from a broken something - like a wagon.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf mage who has a terrible work record.
and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.
Sadly we were a player down this week - and to be fair I think he would have enjoyed this session, which was 75% role-play, 5% combat and 20% trying to stop pissing ourselves laughing.
The party returned to Greenest after briefl discussing their options. When it became clear they would need to pass through Greenest, they also decided not to have a kip in the cave and made their way through the canyons, back to town.
They were met by Governor Nighthill who, as ever, showed great concern for their wellbeing and invited them to rest. He also advised that before he left for Elturel, Leosin had arranged for mounts, riding gear and supplies for them all to assist with the journey. The party was also able to re-equip themselves and rest easily for a night.
First thing the next day, they headed for Elturel. It was an uneventful trip, and six days later they approached the capital of Elturan. They gazed in wonder at the massive light shining above the town, day and night, to help repel undead and keep the citizens safe. Well, gazed at it for a few seconds, before Rodin started moaning about how he would never sleep if someone left the lights on.
After a short wait in the queue, the party made it past the guards without any colossal fuckups by mentioning Ontharr Frume by name. The party were sent to a tavern by the anme of "A Pair of Black Antlers" where he was known to keep his base.
They arrived at the pub and, after brief game of "look at them" played by the locals, they ordered themselves some drinks, endured a few comments from the barkeep relating to the strange make-up of their group and directed to a door off the common room when they asked about Ontharr.
They walked into the next room which lead into another common room, except it was more like a barracks. In the middle of the room stood a massively fat knight, with a long beard and a big mouth, telling a ribald tale about three elves and a halfling prostitute. The party, made up of three elves and a dwarf, felt momentarily concerned for their safety, before Ontharr delivered his punchline and called them over to talk. When he found out who they were, he dragged them to the bar and ordered a load of drink. He tiurned out to be funny, charismatic and loved a prank. They had a good laugh. Several hours later, the party, now a little tipsy, were invited to another meeting room, where Leosin and Ontharr were waiting.
There they discovered that Ontharr and Leosin were members of two societies, the Order of the Gauntlet and the Harpers, respectively. They were joining forces to combat the evil of the dragon cult and wanted the adventurer's help. The party were quick to agree. Additionally, Leosin and Ontharr invited the party members to join their societies. While there was no pay involved, there were benefits, like the horses they rode, and a network of support across the realms. After some time deliberating, Venmir and Nyvan publically declared for the Order of the Gauntlet, while Nandrin joined the Harpers. There was much celebrating, although Venmir did nearly have a heart attack when Ontharr pulled his sword out and roared his agreement in his face, before folding the two holy elves in a massive bearhug, so tight that Nyvan broke wind and Ontharr kissed them both sloppily on the cheek. Nyvan turned his body sideways a little at that stage. Not sure why.
Rodin decided that neither faction was his idea of a fun or adventure and while he committed himself to the cause of defeating the cult of the dragon, he joined neither.
Onthar told them that in order to travel to Waterdeep, the cult would have to go through Baldur's Gate and would almost certainly join a caravan - so the heroes could visit the city and, when they located the cultists, join the same caravan so they could keep an eye on them. He had also arranged for them to meet with an associate of his who could advise them better in Blackgate, a suburb outside the walls of Baldur's Gate - he would be able to help, and stable their animals (as no animals or wagons were allowed in the city). He had also arranged a boat to take them down the river.
The boat trip was uneventful and they were pleased to find that Ontharr had given them each 50gp for the trip and left a small potion bottle in Rodin's bag. rodin had constantly complained about the lack of healing potions for sale and the bottle had a label, in crayon, saying "Poshun of Heeling". He looked at it suspiciously, but put it in his backpack. They took their horses with them, before disembarking outside the city with their horses, on the north side of the river, before heading to meet Ackyn, Ontharr's contact.
He was a wagon-equipage merchant and most wagons passed through his shop at some point. He promised to keep an eye out and stable their horses.
Several days later, the party were waiting in the main square for merchants seeking guards, when they recognised some of the men carrying a curtained palanquin. Venmir, more perceptive than most, noticed that inside the palanquin was the black half-dragon, Rezmir. He quickly averted his gaze and warned the others. Although Rodin kept staring.
Minutes later, they were approached by a street urchin. You have been summoned, by the merchant, Ackyn, he announced. "Oh yeah, and how do you know it's us he wants?" asked Rodin. "I was told to look for three elves and a dwarfling!" announced the little laddie, before scampering away with a giggle. Rodin blew out his moustache in disgust and huffed and puffed his way to the merchant's shop, vowing eternal vengeance on the child and his family. Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Rodin.
Ackyn advised that some men had been in to buy three of his wagons, yet had been mightily suspicious when asked about what they were hauling. They didn't even have their goods with them, having left them in a warehouse. Ackyn had saifd their equipment could be picked up the next day at dawn, giving the party enough time to get jobs as guards on the caravan heading north.
"Can we see their goods?" said Nandrin.
"They're in a warehouse. I don't have them here." said Ackyn.
"Fair enough, but can we go see their goods?"
"I don't have them."
"OK, but let us into your storeroom and no-one need ever know any different!" asked Nandrin.
"I. DO. NOT. HAVE. THEIR. STUFF. It's in another warehouse that I DON'T OWN!" shouted Ackyn.
"Ah, ok, thanks." said Nandrin as he walked off.
The party giggled, a lot.
They went to the haulage square to secure employment as guards on the next caravan. They waited with a horde of other hopefuls and, before long, Nyvan and Nandrin were hired by separate merchants. Both were offered 10gp per tenday and would be required to act as bodyguards and/or sergeants for other guards.
Nandrin showed off a little for his new employer by flourishing a little fireball in his hand. His new boss, a little concerned, said "I thought you were a swordsman, but you're actually a mage?". Nandrin, momentarily confused and worried that he might have blown his chance, whipped his sword from his scabbard and waved it above his head threateningly.
"So what are you, a mage or a swordsman?" said the merchant, hoping he might manage to get both.
"I think I'm gonna go with swordsman." said Nandrin.
Now the merchant was suspicious and disappointed. "You're gonna go with swordsman? That doesn't sound very convincing!"
"I am what I am!" announced Nandrin, and turned on his heel and stalked off - hoping some dramatics would help his now teetering position. The merchant took this as a refusal of his offer and called Rodin over. Much to Nandrin's horror, the merchant offered Rodin his job.
"Wait, what? No! I just meant...oh come on!" complained the mage, but his cries fell on deaf ears and he returned to the guard bleachers to see if there was anyone else looking for guards.
Rodin used his new position to get Venmir a job.
"You carry a bow, but look like a priest" said the merchant.
"I'm not a priest" said Venmir (rolling 4 on his persuasion roll).
"You are the worst liar I've ever met. You're hired." said the merchant.
"WTF!" exclaimed Nandrin.
That left Nandrin the only one in the party without a job, sitting on the seats next to a gnome with one leg and a blind half-orc that smelled like old cheese.
Just before he gave up on his chances, a huge Shaar tribesman walked into the square. He was seven and a half foot tall and impressively built. The whispers around the square made it clear he was well known - and his nickname was "The Pole".
He called Nandrin to him.
"Looking for work?" he asked.
"Yes." replied Nandrin.
"Heading to Waterdeep."
"That's fine."
"5gp per tenday?"
"Great."
"You're hired."
"Thank you."
And The Pole walked away.
"That was the best interview ever!" shouted Nyvan. Nandrin sniffed haughtily and walked away.
(at this stage we actually had to take a break, as the paladin couldn't stop laughing and the cleric pee'd his pants a little from laughing so hard)
The party set off the next morning, with three different bosses. There were many merchants and travellers, including three wagons belonging to who they believed was the cult, half a dozen merchants, and even a young family.
It was a quiet trip, although they were horrified to see a noble who constantly beat and berated his horses loudly, drawing disapproving looks from his fellow caravaners. Venmir fought back the urge to comment.
A few days later, the beatings came to head. The noble, flabbergasted with his nag of a hrose, stopped the entire caravan when his horse stopped in the middle of the road and he started beating it. He screamed abuse and beat the animal about the head, neck and legs. Outraged, Rodin stomped over, just as the noble slammed his staff into the beast's head with a loud crack and lifted his weapon once more as the horse fell to it's knees, dazed.
Nyvan looked up and saw two large eagles flying overhead. There's something odd with them, but I can't quite put my finger on it, he thought. Then he turned back to the drama.
Rodin grabbed the man's arm on his backswing. "Please stop beating your animal" he asked, politely, before disarming the man.
"How dare you touch me you filthy dwarven oaf! Keep your stinking mitts to yourself and mind your own stupid business you tiny moron!" screamed the noble. "Do you know who I am!" he screamed. "Treat this miniature monkey a lesson!" he cried at his bodyguards.
A mounted knight spurred his horse forward, waving his sword about his head.
Rodin dropped the staff at his feet and announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I don't want any trouble, but killing this horse will attract predators and endanger us all! I'm merely looking out for the caravan!"
Just as he said that, the eagles from above swooped down. They were not eagles, but Perytons - dangerous supernatural beasts which were a danger to the entire caravan. They attacked the knight and Venmir, who had ridden up to offer his support to Rodin, but was still mounted.
Venmir took a grievous blow from the diving beast and leapt from his horse, the better to fire his bow. As the creature came down for another go, Nyvan swiped at the one on the knight and Nandrin hit the first with a firebolt. Just as it passed overhead, Rodin leapt up into the air and slammed his axe into its chest, knocking it from the sky and flinging it backwards, where it smashed into a wagon. Venmir took aim with his bow, but slipped, sending his arrow flying into the wagon housing the young family.
"Watch out, they have bows!" shouted the cleric.
The noble's mage bodyguard flung a huge ball of fire at the beast, catching both Venmir and Rodin in the blast, but killing the beast. The other one fled.
"Careful!" shouted Nandrin, "you hurt my friends!"
"My aim was perfect," said the human magician, with a sneer on his face as he turned away.
Nyvan resisted the attempts of the noble to buy his horse, almost to the point of losing his temper, but he kept from being too rude, and rebuffed the man's repeated attempts. In the end, the noble cursed him as a stuck up elven nob and stomped off.
Venmir approached the mage bodyguard, intent on warning him about his behaviour.
"You should be more careful. You could have killed me and my friend!" protested Venmir.
"My magics are perfectly under control, and did exactly what I wanted them to do in the circumstances, so get knotted!" replied the mage haughtily.
Venmir turned away in disgust as the mage smiled at his back.
They turned to survey the damage. It was the wagon of Nandrin's employer. His wagon was half on fire, half smashed from the creature being slammed into it. He tried to save the rest of his cargo, valuable silks, and called his guards forward to help. It was then he noticed that his silks were full of holes - infested with worms and completely worthless.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he cried and collapsed to his knees, sobbing. Nandrin tried to console him, gently patting him on the shoulder, when the man slumped forward onto the ground. Nandrin tried first aid and called for help but by the time Venmir arrived, it was too late. The man had had a fatal heart attack. Nandrin cursed.
The Pole walked over, opened the man's purse, pulled out 5gp for Nandrin and pocketed the rest. He then announced he was returning to Baldur's Gate for a new contract.
Nandrin was disgusted, but chose to save his ire for the halfling teamster, rather than the massive tribesman. "Take his corpse back to town and make sure he is properly buried and his body cared for!" he ordered the halfling. "Yes, sir. You can trust me!" said the little man, as he somberly stood over the corpse.
As Nandrin rode away, he glanced over his shoulder at the sad scene, but all he could see was the halfing gleefully rifling through the pockets of the man on the floor.
He sighed, and rode off to catch up with his friends.
"I fuck the other egg!"
Interrupted whilst investigating a cave allegedly hiding black dragon eggs, our heroes have barely recovered from a huge battle with Langedrosa Cyanwrath, the blue half-dragon and his berserker guards...
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who is constantly amazed at how many hit points his enemies have - loves a bit of melodrama.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, never afraid to stand by and let someone else do the hard work.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, who hates everything about kobolds and hates being interrupted.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the battered and sullen dwarven axeman, who likes eating, drinking and being knocked unconscious at least once a session.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf mage who uses a sword more often than the sword-wielding cleric.
and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.
From a setup point of view, the lack of a DM Screen seems to be working ok - however, the last week saw an increase in "how do they add so much to their attack rolls?" and "How much!? You only rolled x for damage!" which is kind of frustrating. The dice rolls may return behind a screen. The group are convinced my dice rolls are cursed (for them) but I roll plenty of 1s as well - they just aren't commented on!
The party are exploring the cave at the back of the abandoned raider camp for black dragon eggs, and successfully defeated Cyanwrath, one of the cult leaders in the local area. The battle was at great cost, however, and some of the group are sorely wounded .
After a discussion (these are common), the party decides to leave the caves and take a rest outside where it might be a little safer.
After a brief break the group, bolstered by their own reserves of energy and also Sigurd's sagas of great heroes, head back into the cave. They decide to check the stairwell with the odd leather curtain, stopping to pick up the pitted, rusting spear located at the top of the stairs.
It took several minutes of prodding at the curtains with the spear (and even more minutes for the party to get over the spear/curtains innuendo) before they parted and Jason held the leather strips to one side for the others to enter. They found themselves in a meat store-room, filled with various types and ages of meat. Most people just wanted to leave, but Rodin was convinced there must be another way out and searched the room thoroughly. He found nothing.
They returned to another junction they'd encountered previously. Turning left had lead them to Cyanwrath, so they tried right. The first rank of the party passed through the corridor safely, but Sigurd set off a trap, and the ceiling fell down on top of them (don't make me draw a diagram of how this might look!). Sigurd, Rodin, Nandrin and Nyvan all leapt forward, while Venmir leapt backwards. The rubble filled the passageway between them. The larger group found themselves in a kobold barracks...an occupied kobold barracks. A dozen kobolds, equally split between the land-bound and air-borne varieties were in attendance and battle was joined.
The kobolds on the ground were quickly sent screaming to the nine hells in Tiamat's glory, and one massive leap and slash from the dwarf, followed by a huge groin ripper of a sword-stroke from Sigurd convinced the other kobolds that the best option was to fly away - very quickly. They flew towards a chimney in the far corner and scarpered. The party followed and attempted to fling a fire bolt up the hole but, being a natural chimney rather than man-made, it wasn't straight and the kobolds were out of the line of fire.
On the other side of the cave-in, Venmir was trying manfully to lift the rocks out of his way - and failing miserably, his tiny muscles unable to lift the heavy pebbles in his way.
Nyvan and Nandrin set to clearing the rocks while Rodin kept a careful watch on the empty room. Sigurd, his hatred of kobolds almost consuming him, began searching the room by smashing it to pieces. Kicking the bedding in all directions, slamming his boots into their treasured artifacts and generally demolishing the place. By the time the others had cleared the entrance, and Rodin had assured himself the room was empty (after half an hour), the room was a complete mess. When queried, Sigurd just shrugged.
They headed down into the depths and travelled the route from where a number of kobolds had attacked after the battle with Cyanwrath. They found themselves in a huge natural cave, on a ledge overlooking a larger area, filled with natural columns, with an enclosed set of stairs leading downwards. Closer inspection revealed two huge eggs at the base of some columns a good thirty feet into the room.
The party carefully descended the stairs and, after finding the key, opened the gate and entered the case. They were immediately set upon by two huge drakes who were defending the eggs. The battle was fierce and angry, leaving the party weakened and fearful of further combat.
They settled down for a rest, but were interrupted by a strange dragging noise coming from behind a pillar. As they watched, a monstrous beast appeared. It looks like a nine-foot tall stalagmite, with a dozen long tendril-like appendages, one eye a foot across, and a mouth three times the size of the eye - it was like a cross between a cyclops, a piranha and Mr Tickle.
They quickly buggered off back up the stairs and watched it from the ledge. It set its gaze upon them for a while, before returning to it's place behind the pillars.
After a long discussion (this is my stock paragraph-starting phrase) and Venmir's arrows seemingly failing to affect the eggs, Sigurd ran down the steps and asked for someone to open the door. He dashed into the cave, grabbed a rock the size of his head and proceeded to smash one of the eggs to pieces.
Nyvan immediately joined him with a battle-cry of "I fuck the other egg!"...although this was less sordid than first thought, as he rammed his blade into the egg and pulled it out, ripping the egg virtually in half, showering himself in gore.
The party were unmoved by the baby-like cries of the dragon babes as they died before they even really lived. The cries, however, brought the creature from before back into view.
They retreated to the ledge once more, secure that their position offering them safety. Nandrin, however, had been paying attention to it before and knew that a vertical wall offered no sanctuary from the beast and urged them all to take action. Soundly ignored, he took matters into his own hands and flung a fire bolt at the creature - which only seemed to enrage it. It started up the wall and its tentacles seemed to grow longer, lashing through the air above the ledge long before the party could see the creature itself.
Horrified, Sigurd backed away, calling for the others to do the same. Venmir and Nadrin backed off, the latter only too keen to escape the trouble he'd brought upon the others, then used ranged abilities, but found their spells and arrows didn't slow the creature at all. Nyvan swung in vain at the creature as it came over the edge. Rodin leapt forward with a massive swipe of his axe, but was mightily dismayed to see his axe bounce off of it's armoured skin. He didn't have time to curse, or warn the others, as the tendril wrapped itself around him, squeezing his arms to his sides.
The party looked on, in abject horror, as the tendrils seemed to grow longer and more numerous, filling the air with thrashing, flailing tentacles, looking to grab them and drag them into the maw of the beast. Rodin tried to escape, but it was too strong. He felt himself lifted from the floor and propelled towards the beast's mouth, when Nyvan charged across the room, slashing his balde through the tendril with a massive scream of paladinly power. The other three, by this stage, had ran up the stairs, but the tendrils were not lashing out at Nyvan and Rodin, so they could not see what was unfolding below, and could only listen in horror to the grunts and squeals of combat below.
Rodin and Nyvan, momentarily free of the tendrils, ran for the stairs. Nyvan, dextrous and lithe, leapt between the tentacles,, twisting and diving from one step to another, before somersaulting past the last flailing limb. Rodin ran, head down, punching and kicking his way towards freedom. He dived clumsily for the stairs and emerged into the room - safe! Or not. A tendril grabbed his ankle as he made it to the room. He screamed in fear.
Nandrin ran foward, his sword missing the tendril by quite some distance, barely missing the dwarf's head, before Rodin, with strength born of desperation (and wind) pulled his ankle free from the creature's grasp and ran across the room. The group left as sqiftly as they could, stopping only when they were in a room with good line of sight and space to rest. They saw no more tentacles and decided to leave the cave again to rest. Before they went, Sigurd lectured the group on acting like a group, which turned into a lesson on common courtesy, as Venmir and Nyvan ignored him and starting whispering sweet nothings in one another's ears. How rude!
The party stomped out of the cave, noticing this time another tunnel that had previously escaped their notice. They decided to check it later.
As they left the cave, they were surprised to find Frulam Mondath waiting for them, with a handful of cult guards.
"You slew my best friend!" she cried, in a rage.
"Which kobold was that?" enquired Sigurd, at which point the rest of the group tittered and giggled.
It only set her off and she ordered her guards to attack, before clothing herself in magical vestments which betrayed the senses of those who approached. A glowing magical halberd appeared in her hands and she leapt forward after her guards to attack the party.
The guards were not particularly skilled and they fell quickly, but not before weakening the already weak group. Frulam, on the other hand, was a different prospect. Her blades flashed around her, slamming into the party. Within moments, Venmir had been slammed to the ground, and Rodin followed not long after. After she was struck several times and seemed weaker, she mouthed a spell under her breath and to the group's dismay, some of her wounds healed.
They redoubled their efforts, and Sigurd lay some enchantment on her, bringing the entire area to a complete silence. Only Nandrin was outside the area and his spells continued. When his Witch Bolt narrowly missed the Cult Leader, she turned and, with one mighty throw, impaled the mage (natural 20!). He keeled over, leading just Nyvan and Sigurd to face her. Her mystical halberd appeared in her hands again - and the final battle was joined.
Nyvan and Sigurd set about the madwoman in complete silence and she fended them off for some time, leaving her mark on Nyvan with a few swings of her blade. Things were looking rough for the two heroes left, when he shields faded and she finally fell to the ground, defeated and destroyed.
The party celebrated by not letting one another bleed to death (I think there was about ten death saving throws rolled in this fight - a new record!).
The party rested, then returned to the cave. They found a few more rooms, including a barracks and what must have been a treasure room, recently emptied. It was in such a state that Nyvan asked Sigurd if he'd been in there before them, mindful of the kobold's barracks before. There was one cultist still in the cave, lying drunk next to a number of empty wine bottles. Rodin tied him up and blindfolded him, but despite trying valorously, couldn't wake him up from his drunken stupour.
In Frulam's chamber, they found a map which lead them to believe the cult was heading for Beregost, then north to Baldur's Gate, before following the trade route north - to somewhere called Naerymar. None had heard of it.
The party settled down to consider their options...
(and we stopped for the week!)
"This time it is ME who is pleased to see YOU!"
Visit the enemy camp, he said, destroy any eggs you find, he said, then find out whatever you can about the dragon cultists, he said. Is that all?
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who has a penchant for the dramatic..
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who might be epileptic, judging by the shaking head syndrome.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, who still hates kobolds more than anything else.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the battered and sullen dwarven axeman, who is perhaps the clumsiest dwarf that ever was.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf magic-user fancies himself a scout.
and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.
The heroes have left Greenest once more and found themselves outside the raider camp which is now abandoned. Their plan? Not even they know - but you can bet it's going to be completely out of the blue and keep me on my toes. I wouldn't have it any other way.
The camp was deserted.
After several hours of going through any number of precautions, the party walked into the abandoned camp - some of the huts and tents were still on fire. It was now pitch black away from the fires and they made their way carefully through the wreckage.
Once more, they stopped to consider their plans. After much discussion, they came up with a plan. Nandrin, the bravest mage on Faerun, would make himself invisible, sneak into the cave, find the eggs, then map out the inside and return to the others, enabling them to enter the cave and finish their job with a minimum of fuss. Sigurd and Venmir believed there would only be a handful of guards and most agreed that the cave complex was likely to be fairly small and easy to explore.
Nandrin invis'd himself and snuck forward. The front of the cave was guarded by two men in armour. He snuck past (his invis gave him advantage) and he headed further into the cave, which turned out to be larger than he thought. About a hundred feet intot he cave, there was a short ledge, with a ten foot drop. To the right was a set of steps, and at the bottom was a sea of fungus. Little ones, big ones, all the sizes in-between and every colour under the rainbow. It was so beautiful he almost broke out his crayons to make a picture.
He made his way down the stairs. Halfway down, they suddenly turned into a ramp, sending him downwards like a slide, and he tumbled down into the fungus. Unluckily, he landed amidst a previously hidden err, batch, herd, family of tall, purple-coloured walking mushrooms, which lashed out around them with a changeable number of disgusting fleshy arms.
Despite his invisibility, it seemed as if they could detect him, and so Nandrin ran, dodging a number of attacks - back up the ramp and into the larger cave. He tried a variety of Top Gun manoeuvres to throw the remaining beast off his tail, but he Goosed out and before long the sounds of his struggles alerted the guards and they ran back into the cave. What followed was a kind of bizarre Benny Hill, with the party running in one direction, an invisible mage running in the other, and a large man-sized mushroom and two guards milling about in confusion. After a quick melee, the party continued into the cave, having given up on what was now clearly a far too dangerous scouting ploy.
They walked down the stairs, with no warning from their scout, and suddenly found themselves sliding down the trapped stairs, straight into the remaining waiting mushroom men. With some curses in Nandrin's direction (out of character!) the party leapt into action. Sigurd and Nyvan ran at the enemy, while Rodin went for the dramatic option, sliding down the ramp to build up some momentum, but sadly his boots caught on a crack and he found himself standing stock-still, momentum lost, ten feet away from the action. He hurled some curses at the enemy, which was really his only option.
The battle was short and violent, leaving the massive mushroom beasties lying in pools of their own spores. The party continued on their way.
They found themselves in a large cavern, with exits to the left and right, and a drop in front of them, which they ignored. They went right, and stopped only momentarily to wonder why someone would hide an old, rusted spear behind a rock at the top of the stairs (leading to the right). They walked down the stairs and found themselves confronted by a hanging curtain made of thick leather strips. After taking all possible precautions (and then some more), they turned back, after the curtian had attached itself to Nyvan and left his gauntlet dripping a green viscous fluid.
They went back to the last room and went the opposite direction from before. As they walked, Nyvan noticed something funny about the floor, but decided it must have been a trick of the light and kept it to himself. Suddenly, Rodin's foot slipped through the floor and a spike several inches long went through his boot into his foot (there were audible gasps from the table IRL). Poisoned, his legendary constitution failed him - and a glazed look covered his face (more than usual) and he turned to run away. Instantly, Nyvan, Nandrin and Venmir tried to grab him, but only Nyvan could maintain a hold on him. He swiftly laid his hands on the stricken dwarf and used his holy powers to remove the poison from his system,
The heroes stepped carefully over the trap (which was quite small) and continued, straight into another batch of spike traps. Once more, Rodin was spiked, but he managed to fight off the poison. The party took a moment to berate themselves (while the DM laughed at two traps working twice, in the space of an hour).
They moved further into the dungeon, finding a strange room which had a ledge over a large dark area, with a covered set of stairs leading down into it. The group took the key from the wall, just in case.
They moved down some more stairs, which opened out into a huge chamber, half cave and half carved rock. The walls were covered in painting and reliefs, showing dragons, hundreds and hundreds of dragons.
A voice boomed out. "You survived! I don't know whether to be disappointed or pleased. A little of both, I think." and the party stared in horror at Cyanwrath the Mighty & Victorious, standing between two huge human berserkers.
Nyvan, never one to back down, looked directly at the half dragon and blurted, "No! This time it is me who is glad to see you!" (cue lots of LOL'ing).
Battle was joined, with Nyvan facing off with Cyanwrath, while the berserkers launched themselves at the others.
Nyvan and Cyanwrath swapped massive blows (fnarr), with thundering smites and lightning breath slamming both of them backwards, before Nyvan launched a huge strike, knocking the half dragon back half a dozen paces, and knocking him to the floor. The others were struggling to known down the berserkers, who were proving to be tougher than they looked - and one of them was determined to slaughter Nandrin. Sigurd and Venmir were whaling on him without dropping him. The other was squaring off with Rodin and they were keeping each other busy (Lorne had to suddenly leave).
Nyvan, seeing his friends struggle, decided to focus their attempts and ran at the berserker to strike him down. Cyanwrath roared in anger, his battle of honour ruined by the actions of the elven knight. The creature made no bones about his displeasure, cursing the paladin as both cowardly and lacking in honour. Nyvan ignored him and struck the evil human, and the group's combined efforts finally slew him - just as Cyanwrath slammed into Nyvan.
The party turned their efforts to Cyanwrath who unleashed two mighty blows on Nyvan (two crits - although I snake-eyes'd the damage roll!) and simultaneously, Nyvan hit back and Nandrim hit Cyanwrath with a fire bolt (they all had identical initiative!). Both Nyvan and Cyanwrath hit the deck at the same time, Cyanwrath toppling forward onto Nyvan, taking the opportunity to curse the knight's dishonour one last time.
"That's it! I'm dead!" announced Nyvan's player, loudly, throwing his hands up into the air in despair (this is a normal reaction when he hits zero hit points or less).
"No, you're just unconscious." chorused the rest of the table (this is a normal reaction when Nyvan hits zero hit points or less).
Rodin was asleep again, having beaten off the mercenary and fallen unconscious from the heavy beating he took in return. Nyvan was nearby, lying comatose.
Venmir suggested he perform a healing ritual which would take about ten minutes.The party agreed (those that were awake) and shortly after he began, the party was startled by a maniacal screaming which announced the arrival of a small band of kobolds. Sigurd charged at them, Nandrin threw acid and Venmir continued his spell while the other two slept off their owies.
Nandrin hit two with acid, and one of them died, but the other charged him and stabbed him with his little poker. Sigurd slew another and the other one ran off. Sigurd watched him run down the passageway and turned just in time to see Nandrin take another in the gut from the remaining kobold, before he dropped to the floor, sorely wounded.
The kobold laughed with glee, dancing from one foot to another. The mage was near dead, the cleric was singing his silly song and doing nothing to stop him. He towered over the prone elf and positioned his dagger over his face barely even noticing the travelling swordsman running up behind him before Sigurd's blade caught him across the back of the head, showering Nandrin in brains. The kobold fell on top of Nandrin, like Romeo and Juliet, together forever in death.
Except Sigurd applied some basic first aid and stabilised the elf. Venmir's spell went off (and healed them all a tiny bit - much to Sigurd's disgust!).
And then we stopped for the night...
You damned dwarf!
The heroes have defended Greenest and saved hundreds. Now they're following the retreating enemy to try and find out where they're based and what they want. Pretty straightforward, right?
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who intends to talk about his duel with Cyanwrath for the next month - but not with Cyanwrath himself.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who seems to be spending a lot of his time shaking his head at everyone else.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, who can hold a tune, and his nerve.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the battered and sullen dwarven axeman, who likes to let his axe do the talking... and is showing himself to be a little clumsy at times...
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf magic-user fancies himself a mountaineer.
and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.
The party have set out to follow the raiders to their camp. The met some stragglers, and left them for dead. They were ambushed by the rearguard and killed them too. Now they're approaching the camp itself and only time (and luck) will tell what happens next.
As the heroes stood over the bodies of the rearguard, they thought about their options and decided to head straight to the raider's camp.
They travelled a couple more miles and found the camp - and it was huge. Nestled inside a horseshoe-shaped plateau, with guards, huts, tents and even a guard tower. The heroes looked on with a little despair and a lot of indecision on how to proceed. Ideas were thrown back and forth, developed then discarded, with most unwilling to enter the camp, disguised or not, due to a fear of discovery and insta-death. In the end, a careful approach was agreed, with party heading back to the rearguard, nicking all their kit and dressing up like cultists, before going all the way around the plateau to look for alternative entrances or weak-spots. but there were none (at this stage, there was a necessary "player knowledge" vs "character knowledge" discussion - and I'm sure every group in the world has to contend with this kind of issue - climbing a rock-face might seem simple to a mountaineer, or someone who climbs the rock wall at the local gym, or anyone who's seen Cliffhanger, but for an elven sage who has lived in a book all his life, a dwarf who has spent his entire life half-pissed or bar brawling, or a knight whose knowledge of climbing is all about climbing into a suit of armour, it's a different matter! There must be a line drawn - I might watch a lot of history channel and murder mysteries on telly, but I try to ensure my characters don't suddenly display an intense knowledge of Roman legionary tactics- and then justify it with some crazy backstory alterations - this is when collaborative story-telling is not welcome, imo).
They went back to the only entrance. As they watched, a group of kobolds and humans approached the guards at the front, heavily laden with bags and stomping wearily across the fields. After they had moved on, the party checked their tracks and after following them back the way they came, realised they were part of the attack on Greenest. A new plan was conceived: enter the camp, dressed as raiders claiming to be on their way back and full of loot, find out all the info they needed, rescue the half-elf monk, Leosin Erlanthar, and then go back to town. Simple!
They went back to the rearguards, again, and this time took their backpacks, to make it look as if they were carrying loads of loot.
They walked back to the camp, and then approached the guards, trying to look confident. The guards looked them over once, then ignored them as they walked into the camp.
How fricking easy was that! (knowing the guards didn't give much of a shit and weren't expecting to be infiltrated sucked when watching the party debate!).
They walked through the camp, before meeting one of the camp hunters. He offered to sell them some meat at a crazy price, which Sigurd saw through, and purchased it at a more reasonable figure.
"Let us find a fire and cook this stuff." said Nyvan, woodenly. The hunter looked at him quizzically, but just assumed he was another drink-addled cult member. Venmir shook his head. Sigurd looked like he was about to explode (and everyone laughed a lot).
The party found a fire next to some mercenaries and considered their options. The talk around the fire was simple and not very helpful - but as the party relaxed, a figure loomed out of the darkness - it was Cyanwrath! Much to the party's joy, he walked up behind Nyvan and didn't see his face (for this, I asked them to roll perception, but it was actually a luck roll - and Nyvan scored highest!).
He queried them about their actions and combat int he town, which the party did well to blag through. He walked away happy. Nyvan started to breath again. Venmir shook his head.
The party continued their exploration after some meat. They found some prisoners tied by a chain to a tent pole. They stood nearby and called Leosin's name out gently. When this had no effect, a fierce debate raged, with some of the party wanting to call out his apprentice's name to see if that would encourage a response. As they argued, a patrol walked up and demanded to know why they were there. Some quick-talking from Sigurd convinced the guards they were just looking for a particular villager to beat. The guards left.
They continued their search, and found anumber of stakes driven into the ground. A figure was tied to one. As they considered their options, again, Rodin took control and walked over to the figure.
Acting nonchalantly, he lifted his axe to the figures chin and gently lifted the prisoner's chin (not far, for a dwarf to see his face but since this seemed an odd way to get someone's attention, I asked Lorne to make a Dexterity check to make sure nothing horrible happened - and he rolled a 1). Rodin's hand slipped on the haft of his axe and thrust the tip of the blade deep into the prisoner's shoulder. The prisoner screamed in pain and surprise.
The camp awoke and dozens of cultists and mercenaries ran for the party. Sigurd waited until they were close and dashed over to Rodin, flinging him to the ground and chastising him soundly , "What are you doing, you damned dwarf!" he cried in anger (and it wasn't even mock anger!). Venmir shook his head.
A huge circle of guards surrounded them, swiftly burst open by the appearance of the leader of the rebels, Frulam Nondath, accompanied by a number of guards and drakes. Nyvan slunk into the shadows and Venmir shook his head.
Demanding to know what was happening, Sigurd tried to explain that the dwarf was drunk and foolish and there was nothing really going on. She was not to be dissuaded however, and ordered that Rodin be tied to the stake and then executed in the morning, with the other prisoner. Several burly guards grabbed him and tied him to the stake.
Just as she turned to leave, she stopped and turned back to Rodin. "Actually, I've never had a dwarf before. Would you care to spend the night with me?" she asked of her captive.
Rodin, his mind whirring (and we could see it whirring from our seats) took a few seconds to consider, before replying with a hearty, "It would be my honour!", a smile spreading across his face.
"Good," she said, bringing out a further grin. Venmir shook his head. "Cut his throat and bring the corpse to my tent. We shall start the ritual immediately!". She smiled and turned away. One of her guards walked up to Rodin and stood behind him, his blade pressed to the dwarf's neck.
"Frulam!" came a deep voice from the darkness, It was Cyanwrath. " we have no time for your rituals, mistress, we should just kill him with the half-elf and be gone."
"You're right," she replied. And they walked away, with Rodin intact. The party breathed a sigh of relief.
And with a parting glare at the dwarf, she left with some chilling orders. "Now beat him, but leave him alive for his execution..." and her guards set do with great zest. Rodin slowly descended into unconsciousness on the fists of his foes.
An hour later and the others were planning their next steps. Nandrin had gone on a scavenger hunt for clothing, so he could sneak everyone out. Meanwhile, Leosin spoke just as Rodin regained consciousness.
"Why did you stab me?" he asked.
"It was an axe-cident, " said Rodin, "I was trying to rescue you."
"Great job." mumbled the half-elf.
(this was some of the most fun I've had DM'ing for a long time!)
He told the dwarf how he had a knife hidden in his shoe and, with a little contortion, cut himself and the dwarf free, just after a patrol passed. The ran to the nearest cliff wall and prepared to ascend. Nandrin eventually caught up with them, and gave them the clothes he had stolen, and nipped back to the others to tell them to meet up with them later on where the rearguard had been killed. After a time, the three of them decided to climb the cliff to get out of the camp. They started the ascension.
Just then, the patrol passed and noticed the missing prisoners. The camp was awakened. The other three leapt into action, trying their best to look as confused as everyone else - and doing a pretty good job of it. They slowly moved their way forward to the centre of the camp and stopped to talk. As ever, standing still in a hive of activity is bound to get attention - and they were interrupted by a huge black half-dragon...
"What are you doing, standing still?" it demanded.
"We were thinking about the best way to catch the escapees. We thought they might..."
"Enough! Can any of you track?" it asked, impatiently.
"Yes," said Sigurd, "I was thinking they would go out..."
"Silence! Enough talk, worms! Stop standing still and get out there and find those prisoners. Immediately!" and with that the monster stomped off, shouting at someone else.They learned from a passing mercenary that the creature's name was Rezmir. They exited the camp and waited at the rearguard.
The others, apart from a slight almost 120-foot fall down the cliff-face when Nandrin was saved by Leosin, were untroubled and met up with the others some time later.
They returned to Greenest as heroes and showered in glory. Receiving free weapons, food and drink for their troubles.
They got their fees from Governor Nighthill, who insisted they all take money, even those who had vowed to do it for free. Before long, however, they had their new task. Leosin offered them a shower of gold to go back to the camp and keep an eye on things, to let me him know what was happening and, if possible to get into the cave at the back of the camp - where the enemy had three black dragon eggs - which would have terrible consequences for the area. He told them of his friend, Entharr a Paladin of Torm, in Elturel and how the pair of them were combining forces to try and fin out what was happening with these cultists. The party agreed to check the camp and set off within hours.
After a chance meeting with the hunter from before, the party found themselves back an the camp, but it was empty and the kobold huts and tents had been burned down. They crept forward to examine the rest of the camp...
(it felt like everyone had a great time - and not a single moan about the total lack of combat, so I gave out an exp bonus too!)
