"Can we have a long rest please?"
The mighty adventurers are in for a fright as they battle through Castle Naerymar to find the cult bosses they've promised to kill in return for the lizard chief Snapjaw's help. With lots of stairs, spiders and swearing, our killers will soon find themselves on the receiving end of a few unwelcome surprises!
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, who spent most of the week cursing his die rolls and practising his overreaction skills when injured.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, the cold-hearted priest of war, and man voted "Easiest to lead into an ambush" by everyone else in the group!
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, fibber extraordinaire, who believes the best way to guess a password is to speak every word he knows.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, who doesn't believe in lying, or washing.
Nandrin, (played by Hilton), the no longer so brave elven mage whose catchphrase makes up the heading of today's blog.
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 group starts today after having engaged in combat several times since the last long rest, leaving them a little less sturdy than usual. Truth be told, a break would have been nice, but the clock was ticking and even this lot knew it was time to act, not sleep!
They stood on the causeway looking up at the castle. At their back stood a small army of lizardmen who, while their need for vengeance was still strong, were in no fit state to fit any further - not today. Snapjaw, their leader, reminded the group of their promises to slay the enemy leaders - Mr Gray, Spattergoo and the Black Dragon Woman. Not that the group needed any coercing!
They walked back up the causeway and into the courtyard of the tower, which was strangely quiet. No bodies lay on the floor and no defenders were there to stop them. They walked calmly up to the tower directly in front of them, quickly realising it was the lizardman quarters, built around the castle forge, which warmed the rooms for the cold-blooded inhabitants. Nandrin noticed the doors were strangely quiet, where the rest of the tower had squeaky sticking doors, but the reason wasn't clear.
They continued up the tower, until they reached the top floor. The room was dark, just a few bits of light coming through large windows in the walls. A strange crunchy layer covered the floor and closer inspection showed it to be bones, from rats to bullywugs, their dried out bones littered the floor. Undeterred, Sigurd marched into the room, only to find himself suddenly beset by three mahoosive spiders which were hiding in the eaves. After some cursing and splatting, the spiders were dead and the party were about to continue on their way, when they heard a strange clicking noise from outside. Learning nothing from Sigurd, Venmir decided to "stick my head out of the window" and was promptly leapt on by two more giant spiders which often tapped their exoskeleton clad legs on the wall to catch dull-witted prey (I was accused of smiling wickedly when Venmir announced his action). One of them sunk its fangs into his face and his hasty retreat into the room lead to another spider-battle which was swiftly finished.
After some cursing and a few comments along the lines of, "let's stop fucking around and find the bad guys", they reversed their way down the tower, and decided to head for the tower in the middle of the courtyard.
The tower lead them to a waiting room, with two doors and a spiral staircase leading upwards. They checked both rooms, finding them to be comfortable guest rooms. One of them had a locked chest at the base of the bed. Unable to resist the potential for treasure, and much to Nyvan's disgust, Venmir insisted they return and check it out when the rest of the tower.
Since no-one stepped forward to showcase their stealth skills (Nandrin!), Nyvan stepped forward and bashed his sword against the lock. This instantly set off a trap and green acid covered arrow appeared in the wall in front of the trap, then leapt forward to slam into Nyvan's chest. He reeled backwards, flapping at his chest and cursing loudly as the acid spread across his armour.
"Quick, get your clothes off!" cried Venmir in a panic, his voice rising several octaves in fear.
"No time for your filthy elven perversion!" countered Sigurd, disgusted at their overt displays of affection.
The acid wore off while Venmir tugged at Nyvan's shirt, trying to lift it over his head.
They moved up a floor before it got any hotter in the room and found themselves in a well-decorated room with a desk, chairs and an arrangement of seating around a fire which kept the room warm. Before anyone could do anything,. Sigurd walked over to the desk and kicked it over, savagely.
"Is this a kobold's room?" asked Nyvan. Sigurd ignored him.
The next two rooms revealed themselves to be a well-appointed bedroom and dressing room filled with girly clothing and bathing salts, ointments and lubricants. They quickly deduced it was an elf's room - Borngrey! Sadly, he wasn't there.
They travelled up the stairs again and found themselves in a strange room - in the centre was a large telescope-like device. Was this the item that Snapjaw had spoken of which allowed the cultists to view the surrounding area? Nyvan urged everyone to continue their search, but Nandrin stepped forward to investigate.
Silently, four gargoyles detached themselves from their places at the ceiling and dropped down into the room, advancing on Nandrin, who looked at the others like a frightened rabbit, then slumped his shoulders in resignation, waiting for death to come.
Rodin charged at one of the beasts, but they pretty much ignored him and all leapt in to give Nandrin a few love slaps. When he realised he wasn't dead, Nandrin perked up a little and quickly slammed his foes with a Thunderwave, sending two of them flying backwards, but leaving two within elf-slapping range. It quickly became apparent that they were not equipped for a battle with the beasts and they beat a hasty retreat. While they all ran down the stairs, Sigurd took the opportunity to acrobatically slide down the bannister backwards, beating them all to the bottom before dismounting with a somersault, despite being the last one to leave the room. He sauntered casually across the room but was largely ignored (one of those moments the DM hopes for a 1!). They were not followed.
They went to another tower, finding the door smashed in and the floor covered in rubbish. Rather than risk getting poop on their boots, they ignored the tower and went back to the one where their kti had been held during their brief incarceration before.
They walked through a doorway and found themselves in room with a series of puddles on the floor and stairs leading both up and down. As they debated their options, the slap of many webbed feet caught their attention and waves of bullywugs charged down from upstairs and up from downstairs! Battle was joined.
Rodin was on fire, slashing at the frogs around him, while Nyvan crushed them at all (seems like he rolled nothing but crits - and Rodin never missed!). The party found facing dozens of frogmen, and were horrified to see Spattergoo stick his head up from the stairs down, casting some spells and then running away. All in all, the party accounted for nearly two dozen frogmen before the rest of them scarpered in fear, having been abandoned by their chief.
The party continued their chase, running down the stairs, only to find themselves in a cavern complex. Seemingly like they knew their way around, they headed straight towards Spattergoo (like they had boss-GPS) and, after cautiously negotiating a ladder down a small cliff-face, the party found themselves in a mist-filled room. Across from them stood Borngrey, Spattergoo, a handful of cultists and half a dozen bullywugs.
"We should have had a long rest!" said Nandrin, "I did say, "can we have a long rest?" and now I've got no spells. Next time we should have a long rest."
The rest of the party shrugged in unison.
"You fools! You race-traitors! You naive idiots! You have ruined my plans - but it was all for naught. This damned place means nothing, and I would have left this shithole to the stinking frogs and lizards, but no, you had to stick your noses in where they don't belong! The elven race will still survive long after you are all dead - and Tiamat will return to crush you all herself!" cried the elven cultist.
"Tia-who?" asked Sigurd, infuriating the evil elf.
"You are the fool!" countered Nyvan, "and it is you who will die!"
The cultists ran across the room to engage in battle with the heroes while Spattergoo and Borngrey hung back, flinging spells at the party. Borngrey specifically targetted Nyvan for his smack-talk, sending magic missiles slamming into his body. Nyvan roared in anger and swung his sword over his head, and the heads of everyone around him, constantly hitting nothing. Rodin continued his hot streak, slaying all who stood in front of him. Sigurd cast a spell and the far end of the room went quiet.
As the cultists fought viciously, wounding many of the heroes, Spattergoo charged into combat. and the strange silence followed him. The party's magic-users were nullified.
After a few more rounds, the cultists were dead, Spattergoo was severely wounded and Borngrey pulled out a flaming sword and leapt into combat, again targetting Nyvan, who had spent the last few rounds pretending to be a ceiling fan.
Nandrin, who had swung his sword and come closer to killing to Rodin than to hitting a cultist, edged his way around the cave until he found a spot where the silence no longer affected him. He then let off a few cantrips - finally hitting someone with a poison cloud at the 7th time of trying. His celebrations were muted. Spattergoo, however, didn't give a shit and died shortly afterwards.
Venmir also repositioned himself to try and avoid the silence, moving backwards until he could hear the buzz of combat. Sadly, when he looked up there was a wall between him and the enemy. He took a step forward until he could see Borngrey again, but found himself silenced once more. This Dance of the Dumb continued for several seconds until he finally gave up and fired an arrow at the cultist.
Borngrey struck with precision, leaving Nyvan on the verge of death.
"I'm fucked!" cried the paladin, with fear and anger in his voice. "I haven't even hit him yet for crying out loud!" but speaking of Borngrey like he wasn't there just made the elf madder. As he stood up to bring his sword down on Nyvan's head in a final decapitating blow, Rodin slammed his axe into the elf's ribs, and he collapsed to his knees, before lifting his hand and defiantly displaying his distaste for the dwarf by extending his middle finger. Rodin stepped forward with glee, intending to chop the finger off, when the elf was bathed in a holy light, his wounds healing, much to Rodin's disgust.
"Oh for.....not another troll" cried the angry dwarf.
Luckily for the party and unluckily for Borngrey, his magics were not enough to overcome the party's vicious attacks and he was struck down again, this time to move no longer. Nyvan chopped his head off.
"Just in case." he explained.
The party moved into another room after rifling the bad guys' belongings, and found themselves in a misty room, the tendrils of smoke reaching their waists (chest for Rodin) and only after searching the room did they realise there was a series of strange patterns on the ground. Nandrin's magical teachings lead him to believe it was a teleportation device, probably powered by a key word.
At that, Sigurd leapt into action, repeating just about every name and word he had learnt over the last three months, but to no avail. He encouraged the others to join in, but they went silent, leaving the swordsman chanting words at random, stood in the middle of the room, ineffectually. He even tried translating the words on the floor - thinking that might be a good place to hide the secret phrase.
"Well shit!" he moaned as he looked around the room at a bit of a loss.
(and then we stopped for the night)
"Duck!"
The crew find themselves in a deserted lizardfolk camp. Well, deserted apart from nigh on a dozen bodies, and a slightly singed lizardman calling for parley, despite Nandrin's best attempts to fry him. What madness is this? Talking to a lizardman! Venmir snarls, Sigurd smiles, and Rodin....he just moans about gnomes.
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, who likes a good warcry and swinging his sword about in the air (and not hitting anything!).
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, the cold-hearted priest of war, who will sacrifice whatever is required to reach his goals - even his allies! .
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, fibber extraordinaire, who has taken over the head-shaking crown from Venmir.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, who believes safety lies up a tree.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf mage who wasn't quite as brave as usual (due to a reshuffle of skills!).
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.
We had a full group for this session, but for various reasons moved it from a Thursday to a Saturday and meant we could get an extra hour of play in - we perhaps didn't advance as far as I might have hoped, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a thrill-packed evening!
Bodies lay all around. Broken lizardmen, their green blood lying cold on the wet, unforgiving ground. The heroes stood, ankle deep in reptile gore, watching the last remaining lizardman carefully from across the clearing.
"Why you burn me, burnypants! Me wanna talk! Me name Snapjaw and me wanna talk a deal with humies and pinkskins....and the little one!" said the reptile, in passable Common, nodding at Rodin at the end of his speech.
A chorus of mistrusting comments spewed forth from Rodin and Venmir, but Sigurd sheathed his sword and stepped forward.
It soon became clear that Snapjaw was the last of the great lizardman revolutionaries - his tribe, The Scaled Death, had been devastated when a Bullywug Shaman, Spattergoo, had killed their leader, Suncaller, leaving them rudderless in the swamp. With their only options subservience to the recent arrivals, the Cult of the Dragon, the lizards found themselves at the bottom of the pecking order - ordered around by evil humans, and bullied by merciless bullywugs. Snapjaw saw a chance for the redemption of his people - and it lay with these great warriors....even the little one, and especially with angry burnypants.
The party soon made a deal with the sly lizard. He would lead them to the Castle used by the Cult in the swamp. He would also rally the lizard forces to help with an assault on the Castle to kill the Bullywugs and free his people. He would help the party infiltrate the Castle, in order to complete their side of the bargain - the assassination of the Cult leaders, Mr Grey and the Black Dragon Bitch, and the Bullywug chief, Pharblex Spattergoo. Leaving a void for the Scaled Death to reclaim the swamp for themselves - and slit a few frog bellies in the process.
The deal was sealed with licked palms between Sigurd and Snapjaw. Sigurd wiped his hand on Rodin's back, disguised as a hearty slap on the shoulder.
Snapjaw offered to go foraging while the party rested. As they waited, they were alarmed by loud noises in the undergrowth. They prepared for battle, and relaxed as Snapjaw ran into the clearing, panting.
"Bog meanie, bog meanie, bog meanie.....he's coming!" cried the lizard.
"What the fuck is a bog meanie?" asked Rodin.
"I think he means Bog Luck?" said Venmir, just as the massive Half Orc Gladiator charged out of the undergrowth!
"You killed my men and sneak off like little chickens in the night! I'm going to rip you all to pieces!" screamed the Roadhouse Master in unfathomable rage.
"It was her!" shouted Rodin, pointing at Jemna Gleamsilver, but she had already disappeared behind a lean-to.
Battle was joined.
The half-orc was a veteran of many wars and had started his career in the gladiatorial pits of the East. He was quick, skilled and angry. He leapt among the heroes, laying about him with his axe and sword, quickly setting the heroes aback with his strength and ferocity. He struck Rodin so hard that nyvan winced - and hit Nyvan in the helmet so savagely that Nandrin cried for days. It took a massive smite from Venmir (crit for 51!) and a myriad of other strikes to stop the beast - and as he slumped to the ground, he took great pleasure in the blows he had struck against five foes....and warned them all of the perils they would face - and that their deaths were inevitable. He slumped forward into a pile of lizard muck.
After the gladiator's death, the party rested, most of them huddled around a small fire, except for Rodin, who took refuged in a low-slung swamp tree. His overwhelming sense of safety was perhaps overblown considering he was only a few feet from the ground, but his confidence was palpable.
"Never seen a crocodile climb a tree!" he quipped, cheerfully, as he fell asleep.
-----
The next day, the group headed off for the Castle in canoes, finding themselves carrying the boats for short stretches between the watery paths before them.
As they reached a point several miles from the Castle, they rounded a corner to find themselves face to face with four humanoid snakemen...
"Yuan-ti!" shouted Snapjaw as he ran off into the swamp, leaving the party to fend for themselves. The snakemen hissed a threat and two of them ran forward, the ones at the back unlimbering bows.
The heroes found themselves beset by two scimitar-wielding snakes, who kept them busy while the two at the back flung poisoned arrow after poisoned arrow into Venmir and Nyvan. It was almost as if they resented the elves' presence in the swamp. While Nyvan and Venmir staggered under the impact of the arrows, Sigurd, Nandrin and Rodin beat away at them the snakes, Nandrin summong a huge ball of fire, it's flames licking around his pals, but not burning them. Sigurd leapt forward to attack one of the bow-snakes. after a lengthy battle (one of the longest we've had in the game - mainly due to some atrocious rolling by the party - and some great rolling by the DM!) the Yuan-ti lay dead. Nyvan moaned a lot. The party took a break and then carried on their travel.
-----
They found their way to the castle, once more lead by Snapjaw who had returned from his disappearing act, claiming the Yuan-ti were almost invincible and their destruction had vindicated his choice of the heroes as his allies. Of Jemna, there was no sign.
The Castle itself was bigger than they expected, and surrounded by bullywugs, lizardmen and overflowing with cultists. The party settled in to discuss their options.
They discussed their options for a long time. Then a little longer.
Eventually, they settled as getting Snapjaw to sneak into the building and getting them some cultist disguises. Rodin, as ever, moaned about sneaking anywhere, believing that the best approach involved slamming one's head against the thing in front of you until you got what you wanted. After a few hours, the lizardman returned, with a mismatched mix of underclothes, tunics and leggings - none of which matched and none of which really complimented anyone in the group. The heroes gave not a shit, and ventured forth.
At the gatehouse, they found themselves easily able to pass the guards, but something must have gone a little wrong, as the bullywug guards could be seen to be watching them carefully as they walked up the causeway into the Castle proper.
They found tehmselves in a bustling courtyard, and quickly caught the attention of a passing elf, who demanded to know who they were.
Sigurd lead the way, explaining that they were a cultist group from Carnath Roadhouse, who had been tasked with making their way to the Castle, but had been ambushed by Yuan-ti and lost all their goods, but had managed to escape alive. The elf questioned them thoroughly, then told them to wait while he collected someone to help them out.
Minutes later, the elf walked out again, inviting the heroes to follow his majordomo to some accommodations before he stalked off. The man talked to the heroes for a short while, before leading them slowly to a door on the far side of the courtyard. As he stepped through the door, he turned to the heroes, mouthed, "I'm sorry" and closed the door shut behind him.
The party spun on their heels, to find the courtyard behind them filled with foes. The elf, the black dragon Rezmir, the mage Azbara Jos (from the caravan from Daggerford) and a dozen cultists, as well as two dozen bullywugs, lead by a large bullywug shaman.
"You fools!" shouted the elf, instroducing himself as Borngrey, leader of the swamp cell of the cult. "Your false stories lead me to believe the worst from the very start. Bog Luck would never send valuable assets, or even morons, into the swamp. That's what the stupid lizards are for! Surrender, or die."
Sigurd assessed the situation, then dropped his sword, swiftly followed by Nandrin. The others stood their ground.
"Err, guys?" asked Sigurd. The others realised that fear had frozen their thoughts, and they dropped their weapons.
"Tie them up and take them to the interrogation chamber!" said the elf, as he walked off.
-----
The brave adventurers found themselves manacled to a wall in a long room. Opposite them stood one bullywug for each of them. After a short wait, the door opened. It was Azbara Jos, the red mage of Thay, no longer hiding his tattoos, or bald head, sure signs of his heritage from the magical lands of the east.
"What are you doing here and how much do you know of the cult?" he asked Sigurd.
After getting an answer which revolved around mercenaries wanting to get richer and seeing a chance for it with the cult, he moved around the group, in front of everyone else, asking the same question.
Amazingly, only Nyvan gave a story which supported the skald. Venmir barely responded at all, while Rodin, the second to be questioned, gave an entirely different story, as did Nandrin (this was genuinely one of the LOL moments of the night for me - Sigurd was horrified).
Somewhat confused and totally unsatisfied, the mage left the room.
Some time later, they were horrified to see Borngrey enter the room. He announced himself a follower of an ancient Elven order who believed all other races were inferior and should be wiped off the planet, leaving only the elves of Evermeet to rule the world (Elven Nazis! cried one player) and promising them all a long, painful death at his hands. Venmir was particularly defiant and, as the alarm drums began to rumble, Borngrey turned to find out what they meant, when Venmir spat out his threat:
"That is our lizardman allies, come to destroy you and free us, so that I can kill you!" pledged the elven holy bowman.
"Ohhh, is that what it is? In that case, I shall summon the guards immediately without even needing to see what all the fuss is about! Thank you, fool!" and the elf stormed out of the room, calling for his guards.
"You've doomed our allies!" accused Sigurd.
"They're just lizardmen, and they're evil." countered Venmir, completely uncaring.
"........." said Sigurd, disgusted.
As they argued about Venmir's alleged betrayal of their friends (well, some of their friends), Rodin watched as the door in the far wall opened a crack, and a small glass ball rolled into the room. He watched for a moment, before calling a warning to his fellow wall-coverings...
"Duck!" as he tucked his head under his shoulder.
"How the fuck am I supposed to duck, tied to a wall?" asked Nyvan.
("I do what Rodin did!" shouted Venmir's player)
There was a puff of smoke as the ball shattered, filling the lower parts of the room with gas. Rodin lifted his nose into the air in an attempt to avoid it. The bullywugs, shorter and even stupider than the dwarf, leaned intot he cloud, most of the falling to the ground dead. The one remaining stepped back, straight onto the dagger waiting behind it.
Jemna Gleamsilver stepped into the room.
"What would you lot do without me?" she asked.
Rodin groaned and reiterated his distrust of gnomes. Sigurd thanked her profusely, as did most of the group. After the smoke dissipated, she unshackled them and told them where their equipment was - it hadn't been taken far.
They rushed down a corridor and armed themselves, before heading back into the courtyard. They saw a host of bullywugs disappear down the opening towards the entrance to the Castle, from where they could hear the sounds of mass combat.
They rushed out onto the causeway. In the barbican ahead, a fierce battle raged between bullywug and lizardman, and a horde of bullywug reinforcements were poised to leap into the attack. Out in front of the Castle, stood Snapjaw, now resplendent in a chieftain's headgear, shouting and waving at them from 50 feet away.
"Hey, pinkskins! We's coming to rescue yous! And kill frogs! YEAH!"
Sigurd waved back. Venmir growled.
The heroes charged into the back of the bullywug reinforcements, Nandrin's fire sphere sending many screaming to the deaths, while Sigurd, Rodin and Nyvan carved the rest into little bits (when Nyvan actually hit, of course!), aided by Venmir's bow.
by the time a dozen bullywugs were dead, the battle was going better for the lizards. Nandrin sent his flaming sphere down to assist them, scarring quite a few lizardmen at the same time.
"Ooops!" he mused.
Snapjaw came running up, narrowly avoiding the flaming ball, obviously skilled at avoiding a burning death at the hands of Nandrin.
"Careful, burnypants!" cried the new chieftain of the Scaled Death Tribe, "you are fire-happy, crazy elf. And you, my brother," cried the lizardman, clasping forearms with Sigurd. "It is good to see you all alive, even burnypants and angry short one. Many me brood-brothers lay dead. Mr Grey was waiting with many troops when we come, and lots dead. But so are many frogs. We cut open their bellies! Soon we have freedom from evil frogs and their masters! Our day has come! But first, the leaders still live. We lack the lizard-power to help much more. Many more frogs must die. You must complete the bargain. Kill them all - and free my people!"
The heroes nodded grimly, and turned to face the Castle...
*dragged under*
Will this journey ever end? The crew are on the road with Lord Brierhew, accompanied by Jemna Gleamsilver, the sneaky Zhentarim (whatever that means) gnome, heading for the Carnath Roadhouse - where they will drop their cargo and then return to Waterdeep for more. At least, that's what Lord Brierhew wants - the party, however, are on the trail of the stolen goods being transported by the cultists - and they'll be keeping a beady(-ish) eye on what's happening...
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who is currently intent on keeping his head down - cos every time he lifts it up, someone tries to chop it off.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who has problems with authority and personal cleanliness.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, best friend of Ardred Brierhew, and chief negotiator for the group.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, not known for his understanding of what time of day lunch is eaten, or his thespian abilities.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf mage who lashes out at anything around him when he's angry. A bit like the Hulk, but less green, strong or smashy.
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 group are now back in the full swing of things and the adventure continues with another session mainly made up of roleplay. Less action, more chance for stupid, I say.
The ogres lay dead in the road.
The heroes, together with the other guardsmen (now numbering one less) and the indomitable Lord Brierhew stood above the massive corpses revelling in their victory. Venmir sat down to relax.
"Get up! No time for resting or camp, there's several hours of day light left!" shouted Brierhew as he stomped past, commenting to Sigurd about the lazy workshy elven priest. Everyone but Venmir laughed aloud. He wept silently and secretly into his fox-tail hoody.
As the group continued, they realised they had crossed the ridge and the Mere of Dead Men lay before them. Several score miles across at the point the road would cross it, it was the only way from Waterdeep to Neverwinter by road - unless you took a massive detour past the Sword Mountains - a dangerous route at best.
It took two more days of strenuous but uneventful travel before the group reached Carnath. A single building roadhouse, it had two levels and high walls, the base of which were stone and the upper levels wood. The wagons queued up by the massive gate. Before he walked over to the gate, Brierhew addressed his men, and Venmir.
"Take it easy in here, boys, and try to keep a civil tongue. And whatever you do, don't fuck with Bog Luck, he'll chop your arms off and strangle you with your own hands."
He banged on the gate and spoke to the guard briefly. Moments later, a huge half-orc appeared at the gate and folded his arms around Brierhew, greeting him warmly. He summoned the first two wagons in, and the men filtered through the gate. Bog Luck, the half-orc warrior, pointed out the stables, rooms and kitchen. The heroes headed for the latter, intent on a drink and some food. They noticed the wagons being emptied into the warehouse under the kitchen. It was non-cultist wagons being emptied.
As they waited in the kitchen, thin stew, old bread and weak ale [provided for free, they looked around. A well-looked after building, full of labourers and guards. The cook, Gristle Pete, was a whingy fat man with low standards of cleanliness. A group of workers walked in and announced that they were swapping with some others in the emptying of the wagons.
Sigurd and Nandrin walked outside to see the final non-cultist wagon and one of the cultist wagons being emptied into the warehouse. Nandrin cunningly noticed that the cultist boxes were taking longer to be dropped off and told Sigurd as such. The pair them decided to join in, after a brief chat with Bog Luck. After grabbing a box off the cultist wagon and being told off by the half-orc, they grabbed a box from the other wagon, and followed a cultist in. The cultists were going into a different room in the warehouse and when they tried to follow, they found that Bog Luck had followed them in and he directed them to another pile in the main room. Sigurd announced quietly to Nandrin that he reckoned the massive half-orc was in on the cultist's work.
Sadly, they were now stuck helping and the pair of them ended up emptying the entire wagon while the half-orc looked on, scowling.
They rejoined their mates and they all decided to end their evening off in their newly found quarters. Eager to ensure nothing happened while they weren't watching, Nandrin, Nyvan and Venmir decided to set a guard on the balcony to keep an eye on the warehouse from midnight.
Just at midnight, Gristle Pete threw everyone out of the kitchen, claiming he needed his sleep and moaning about rats making noise all the time and keeping him awake.
Nyvan watched on from the balcony across the courtyard. Nodding to the wandering sentry when he passed. The sentry got more and more curious, eventually asking Nyvan what he was up to. Happy with the explanation, but still confused by the fact he just stood there for three hours, the guard moved on.
When Venmir took his turn at the balcony, the guard became more suspicious. For five hours now, someone had been stood in almost the same place, either drinking, or staring off into space or otherwise looking busy. The guard confronted the priest. His protests about smelly snoring dwarves or lack of beds seemed to appease the guard, but he saw him walk straight for a door in the corner of the courtyard. He couldn't see who answered the door, but he heard an angry voice. Venmir nipped back into the room.
Moments later, there was a furious pounding at the door and Bog Luck let himself in. He cursed loudly and extensively, warning the heroes to stay inside the rooms, quite casing the warehouse and to stop acting all strange, or he'd chop their arms off, etc....(not too imaginative). The group's protests were ignored and he stormed out the room. They decided to not post a sentry any more.
The next morning they went for gruel in the kitchen where, once again, Gristle Pete was moaning about the noisy rats under his room the night before. When queried about the rats by Rodin, he admitted that it wasn't every night and it had only started a few weeks before, but it was bloody annoying, all the scratching and hissing was annoying!
The group decided to go for a ride to explore the area, and followed the road into the swamp. After a short trip, they discovered the point where the road ended and the construction of a new road had begun. Confident now that the entire thing wasn't a scam, they returned to the roadhouse in time for lunch. More stew, bread and weak ale.
Determined to find out what was happening with the stolen goods, Rodin came up with a plan. Act drunk, pass out somewhere and then avoid getting chucked out so he examine the place at his leisure. Impetuously, he enacted his plan immediately, chugging back half a dozen ales in quick succession. He staggered theatrically to his feet. Announcing loudly that he was drunker than he'd ever been before (but sounding remarkably sober to everyone in the room), he lurched over to Sigurd and hugged him.
"Get off me, you fool!" whispered Sigurd loudly.
"I've never know a dwarf handle his liquor so poorly!" announced Brierhew.
Rodin stumbled across the room, straight-legged, bouncing from chair to table, and bumping into everything in the room between him and the door. Some things he walked into twice. He sang a dwarven drinking song loudly, and proclaimed again how drunk he was, before stumbling through the doorway, looking over his shoulder to see who was watching, winked overtly at Nandrin and then clearly flung himself head first down the stairs in a quite obviously fake performance (he rolled a 3 on his performance skill check).
Everyone in the kitchen shook their heads and turned back to their lunch (yes, Rodin had planned his ploy poorly, and stumbled out of the kitchen at 3 in the afternoon). Nyvan went downstairs to check on him and helped him behind some barrels.
"Lie here for 8 hours," said Nyvan, " and you should have most everyone fooled. Idiot."
Rodin gave up on his ruse and returned to the kitchen, but kept a low profile.
Later that night, the crew returned to their room to plot some more. Finally, they came up with a plan. Sigurd would invis himself and sneak into the warehouse. At the last moment, Venmir decided to join him, asking Nandrin for some magical invisibility.
Timing the guards, Sigurd headed off and Venmir followed. At least he thought he did, as he wasn't sure where the skald was. He went down into the courtyard and Sigurd entered the warehouse. He waited a few seconds to let Venmir in, then shut the door. Venmir waited in the courtyard, not really sure what was going on.
Sigurd listened at the door to the other room. Behind it he heard scraping and scratching, just like Gristle Pete said! He stepped to the other side of the warehouse and cast a magical silence over the door, then grabbed the handle, only to find the door locked. He cursed (silently) and made his way back to the room. Venmir hurried back to the room when he saw the door open and close.
As Sigurd relayed what he'd seen, they all cursed. They had no way of opening a locked door without smashing it down - and then waking the entire compound. They debated their options, which included stealing the large ring of keys on Bog Luck's belt (which they swiftly discounted).
Dismayed, they sat back. Just as a quick, quiet knock at the door was followed by the door opening and a small figure slipping inside (ooer). It was Jemna!
"We're saved!" swooned Nandrin.
She asked what they'd been up to while she was gone and they explained all. She suggested they all head for the warehouse - she could handle the lock. When Sigurd mentioned the guards, she left the room and returned ten minutes later with a cheery response, "The guards will no longer bother anyone."
They went into the warehouse, carefully, and Jemna quickly picked the lock, letting them into the strong room. Inside there was enough crates for maybe two wagons, but not three? What the...! They began to search the room. After a few minutes, they found little, apart form Nandrin who found a box, with a lid, and nothing in it. When he tried to lift it, he couldn't! What a wimp! He called the others over.
They all tried, with no luck, to lift the box.
"With a triumphant shout, Nyvan jumped forward and tilted the box sideways - and it moved! Underneath was a ladder leading to a dark tunnel heading off in one direction. The crew, fully equipped, headed down and walked along the tunnel warily.
Within minutes, they found themselves in deadly combat with a squad of lizardfolk walking in the opposite direction. There was only half a dozen, and the combat did not make it past the first rank (Nyvan and Rodin), apart from a few javelins thrown at Venmir, and then flung back by Sigurd.
The tunnel emptied into the swamp, inside a copse of trees, about 500 yards from the roadhouse. There they found a load of lizard tracks and followed them. Despite losing sight of the trail on at least one occasion, they continued into the swamp, now and then doubling back to avoid a particularly vile piece of swampland, or when Venmir got them lost.
As they traipsed through the disgusting swamp, two large crocodiles suddenly leapt from the water, surprising Sigurd and Rodin. They fought back, Sigurd neatly dodging the beast, but the other grabbed Rodin's leg and, despite Rodin's feeble attempts to swat it, would have dragged him to an underwater death, if not for a well-aimed arrow from Venmir. Rodin thanked him profusely.
The journey continued until the party came across a basic camp made out in the swamp. Several lean-tos surrounded a stone plinth, where a fire had recently been put out. Standing around the camp were ten lizardfolk, who leapt to the attack - all bar one.
Nandrin ran before his friends and launched a Thunderwave into the lizardfolk, catching them all. Sadly, some of them were unaffected and they leapt on the near-defenceless mage and pummelled him to the ground in one round. There was a chorus of "ouch" and "oooof" from around the table. No matter the fact he wounded them all, he was out of the fight.
The battle was ferocious, with everyone getting hit and facing more than one lizardman. The heroes slowly smashed the lizardfolk and towards the end of the battle, Venmir healed some of the party, bringing Nandrin back to his feet. The mage leapt to his feet, and turned to face the lizardman behind him, who still hadn't attacked and was watching keenly from twenty feet away. The others slew the last of the beasts in behind him and Nandrin narrowed his eyes at the remnant of the camp.
Without hesitation, he unleashed a spray of fire from his hands towards the peaceful creature. The reptile leapt to the ground, getting away with only a slight singing.
To his surprise, rather than retaliate, the creature put his hands out to his side and said, "Why you burn me? Me jus wanna talk!"
After a brief second of shock (and some IRL cursing about Jar-Jar Binks), Nandrin stood down.
And we stopped for the night.
"Schwing!"
The heroes are still on the road - on a caravan which never seems to end, surrounded by enemies and starting to run low on morale. At least Waterdeep is only ten days away.
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who stares death in the eye - along with his guards.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who has probably taken over from Nandrin as the least employable person in the group.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman with a kobold allergy..
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, who has strange plans for the average wagon.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the ridiculously brave elf mage who is never quite sure when he's invisible.
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.
To be fair, I think everyone is getting sick of being on a caravan but I've got a surprise in store - another caravan. I can still remember the groans...
The group are on the road to Waterdeep, travelling with the cultists they first encountered maybe 800 miles away, in the town of Greenest. Being the heroic sort, they find themselves here, on the road, blinded by boredom and never quite sure what's going to happen next...
A few days out of Daggerford and the caravan has settled back into its routine after the melee on the road. The party are separated, some are working for merchants, and others are running solo. Nyvan, however, is watching over several dozen exotic birds which belong to his deceased employer. Every morning, they take turns feeding the animals...
"Nyvan! Sir, my hands....the pain!" cried guardsman Wilton. He showed his hands to Nyvan, they were bleeding and holes were appearing in front of his eyes. Nyvan stared at him, wordlessly. "Help me!" he cried, "I don't know what to do?", his voice creeped up in octave. "Help meeeeeeeeeee!" as he fell to his knees. Nyvan stared at him, wordlessly. "I'm dying, right here in front of you!" he screamed as his face started to pit and bleed. Nyvan stared at him, wordlessly. "Nooooooooooooooooooo!" cried Wilton, his tears turning to blood. Suddenly, Nyvan leapt forward, placing his hands on the young father's shoulders, sending the power of his lord, Corellon into the young man, feeling the healing energies leaving him and flooding into his charge.
"I...I think I'm getting better," said the young man, relief crossing his face, before he suddenly keeled over backwards, lifeless.
"You killed him!" cried one of the merchants. "I saw you touch him that young man and then he died! Why were you touching that young man?!" Nyvan stared at him in horror.
"I did no such thing! I'm a paladin!" he protested.
A crowd gathered, and Sigurd joined in to protect his friend. After several minutes of arguing, it became clear that some of the group believed the paladin was cursed - and made no bones about it.
Before long, it became clear that Wilton had been feeding the birds in the caravan - and Venmir examined the birdseed, noticing a strange smell. He stuck the bag under the noses of the others. "Smell this!" he exclaimed, which none of the others did. "It's poisoned!" and it all fell into place. Someone had poisoned the birdfood (as Nandrin called it).
Venmir threw the food into a fire, leaving the entire caravan coughing and spluttering as poisonous fumes swept across the camp. Fortunately, for most it had no immediate effect - but it would kill everyone in horrifying pain, in around 50-60 years, if they lived that long. The cleric had doomed them all to a lingering death. But anyway....
"What if seed has been spilled in the wagons?" asked Rodin, before examining a wagon for spilled seed. He sniffed at the wood and rubbed at a strange stain, before sniffing his fingers while he hummed under his braided beard. The others ignored him.
After it all died down, they carried on their way. For a while, Nyvan stared at the corpse, wordlessly.
After a further day had passed, the party were travelling the road, Sigurd in the lead, when a colourful, and familiar, figure leapt to a boulder just ahead of the front wagon.
"Behold, caravan! I am here to demand your goods and full surrender! Place your valuables in bags and leave them on the ground. Or I'll kill you all!" he shouted, with his hands on hips in a dramatic pose.
"De Cockernay!" shouted Sigurd, "Give up, you fool!"
"What the....who are you....NO! Not you! You fiend! If it wasn't for you and your pesky friends....! Give up! Give me all your gold and jewellry and I'll let you live!"
Sigurd came up with a plan. Distract de Cockernay and send him after the cultist wagons....
"Don't let him near the wagons with all the....." shouted Sigurd, pretending to hide his words from the bandit leader, when he was suddenly interrupted.
"de Cockernay you moron, I'm going to chop you into little bits!" screamed Nyvan, before staring at him wordlessly.
The bandit chief screamed his outrage to the gods and ordered his troops to attack! Before anyone could react, hidden trenches alongside the road erupted with orcs, hobgoblins, kobolds and a troll! The troll leapt at the front of the caravan, where our heroes had gathered.
A furious battle ensued.
The party found themselves in combat with a troll who laid about him with great abandon, slapping the heroes about and knocking Rodin to the floor, where he was healed by Venmir, bringin him back to the fight, while de Cockernay fired his bow at Sigurd, occasionally winging him, before Sigurd and Nandrin lost their tempers and attacked him directly, just as the troll fell. As before (see HotDQ1) the bandit fled when things looked tough, taking a number of magic missiles in the back. Sigurd set off in pursuit, his speed bolstered by his skaldic magics (:D) while Nandrin ran after him, casting a web spell over the luckless thief. Nyvan ran for his horse, vaulting into the saddle smoothly, ready to ride....no, wait, his hands slipped on the horse's back as he vaulted it from behind, slamming his hips into the horse's hindquarters and tilting him back onto the floor, winded.
Rodin hacked at the troll, but it continued to rise to it's feet every time he felled it.
"A little help here, with the troll?" Venmir queried the mage bodyguard of the noble.
"I'm busy with my own business," replied the mage haughtily.
de Cockernay slipped free of the web, just as he was caught and tripped by Sigurd. Nyvan arrived, having mounted his horse more conventionally.
"To the death!" cried the bandit.
"To the pain!" promised Sigurd.
The two circled each other warily, looking for an opening, leaping forward to wound one another in turn. The sweat dripped from their brows. The tense game of cat and mouse, continued, while they watched one another, waiting for the others' defence to drop. Waiting for that one moment of weakness that would allow them to end the other and walk away victorious. The tension grew.
Then Nyvan walked over and chopped off de Cockernay's arm and crushed his lung through his armour. Sigurd stared in horror, barely believing how the knight had interrupted his duel. He should have known better - even a Half Dragon (see HotDQ4) knew the paladin was not one for chivalry.
The troll rose again.
"Oh for fucks sake!" cried Rodin.
"Move away!" screamed Venmir, fearing for his little friend's life.
Suddenly the troll burst into flames, throwing Rodin back and knocking him unconscious. Venmir looked around in surprise. The mage stood nearby, smiling, with his finger smoking from where he'd fired his fireball. He blew the smoke away theatrically.
"Solved your troll problem!" he announced, and smarmily turned away.
Sigurd swore vengeance, for once they had more health back and the others agreed, but it was never to come.
Two mornings later, as they all sat preparing breakfast, Jemna Gleamsilver, the ugly-ass female gnome who joined the caravan in Daggerford, grabbed a bowl of porridge from Nyvan's hands, pulling out a small round artifact with her dagger. "A sliver of bone, curled up, to expand in your stomach and kill you in agonising pain..... I suspect you all have them in your breakfast. We'll talk more tonight..."
"Err, thanks!" said Nyvan, and he, Sigurd and Nandrin quickly warned the others not to eat the breakfasts.
They waited for night-time, no sign of the gnome, until the last moment, when she turned up and sat with Nandrin, Nyvan and Sigurd.
She confirmed that she was there for the same reason as them - to track the cultists and see what they had in their wagons. The heroes confirmed they already knew and they hatched a plan to investigate further, using invisibility. The gnome followed Sigurd into some trees, covering their movements by loudly proclaiming she was intending to ride his Norse longboat into the sunset. The gnome, once invisible, moved off and returned 15 minutes later, not long after they all heard a commotion coming from a cultist wagon.
"You were right" she admitted, confirming the belief that the wagons were full of stolen goods. Now let's get back to the others.
"What a stallion!" she confirmed after they got back to the fire.
"Schwing!" exclaimed Sigurd, as he strummed his lute.
Two days later, they were all awakened to cries of murder most foul. One of the cultist guards had been found dead. The cultists pointed their fingers at Nyvan, claiming they'd seen him hanging around the wagons, eyeing them up which, to be fair, he had been doing. He once more protested his innocence but once again, his defence was weak, "I'm a paladin!" he cried, on the verge of weeping uncontrollably. Jemna once more saved his ass, pointing out how the knight only used a longsword - and the wound was from a shorter weapon. The council of merchants agreed, stating there wasn't enough evidence and leaving the fate of the killer to the gods.
They arrived in Waterdeep a couple of days later.
As they entered through the gate, unchecked by the guards, most of the group headed straight for the nearest tavern/inn, The Horny Elf, not far from the south gate. They watched as the cultists went in separate directions, the three wagons heading in different directions. Sigurd followed one, Nandrin followed another and, as they watched,Jemna wound her way through the crowds in pursuit of the third.
Both Nandrin and Sigurd covered their presence with their powers, leaving the cultists none the wiser. After more than an hour, Sigurd found himself in an alleyway, watching a building with a large courtyard, full of wagons and watching the cultist wagon as it stood there, it's guards and teamster having headed inside. He was surprised to find that Jemna had beat him there and was waiting in the alleyway.
Before long, he saw Nandrin arrive, following one of the other wagons. He beckoned him over. Jemna told them how there was a number of unseen guards hiding and watching the streets. As she reeled off her intel, they were surprised by Carlon Amoffel, the Harper agent they'd dug from the road not too long ago. He initially accused them of working "with them" and called Jemna one of the Zhentarim. Nandrin tried to find out what his reasons were for stealing his gear and the horse, but he met with a sharp rebuke and the man disappeared. Jemna hid nothing, admitting she was Zhentarim, but made it clear her plans were the same as theirs - follow the trail, find out what the cult was up to and, at the end, stop them.
They returned to the inn, to find their friends deep in their cups. They got themselves a room and sat down to plan their actions from that point. There was a knock at the door. They were surprised to see Carlon Amoffel again. He explained his actions back on the road - how Nandrin's wink at Sigurd and comments had filled the Harper with suspicion, leading to him taking what he needed and making a run for it. there were some apologies and he gave them more intel. He pointed out that from their current location, the wagons could only be heading north - it was the home of the High Road Charter House, whose main aim was to rebuild the road north to Neverwinter through the Mere of Dead Men. He suggested they join the caravan north. Nandrin and Sigurd simultaneously cursed.
The five of them moved to the Charter House the next day and quickly moved to the clerk who was taking names and details near the doorway into a large hall. He queried the group and confirmed they were acting as guards, before they were surprised to find Jemna stood with them, making the group six. She shrugged when they looked over at her, as if to say, "yeah, I know, but we're all in this together."
They were hired as guards and were intriduced to the other group of six guards - which happened to be the guards from the cultists wagons before! Together with 12 guards, there were 20 labourers and it became apparent that many of the cultist teamsters and even some guards were among them. The cultists glared at the adventurers, but said nothing aloud.
Their attention was drawn to a large balcony, where the leader of the Charter, Ardred Brierhew, stood, ready to address his caravan.
He stood, an older man, but clearly a warrior and not one to brook any crap. Sadly, Venmir decided to test the theory, and snorted in derision during the man's speech to the group. The Charter Master stopped, and stooped down to comment to his clerk. As he continued his speech, the clerk approached Venmir.
"Excuse me, sir?" he asked.
"Yes?" said Venmir.
"You're to leave the building. You're dismissed. Master Brierhew will not stand for insubordination like yours." Venmir stood, open-mouthed. He'd almost beaten Nandrin's employment-to-dismissal record and continued the group's rather poor employment record (the rest of the group found it highly amusing - yet this incident was just one more valuable lesson on remaining in character at all times when players and NPCs are talking!).
"I'm sorry..." he squeaked to the clerk.
"Not to me, to him!" said the clerk loudly, drawing everyone's attention to the cleric.
Venmir visibly shrunk into himself, finding it highly embarrassing. After some humbling apologies, Venmir was forgiven by the Charter Master, on the basis he couldn't be arsed to find any more guards.
They set off an hour later, the party realising that the cultists had unsurprisingly assigning themselves to the wagons which had come from the caravan north from Greenest.
The journey north was even less interesting than that which lead to Waterdeep. After a week, they found themselves cresting a hill, through some woods, expecting to see the Mere of Dead Men ahead. In stead, they saw one of the cultist outriders galloping (that's top gear for a horse, Nyvan) - he was screaming and when he got closer, they could hear him clearly - OGRES!
Half a dozen charged from the woods behind the horseman and the guards leapt to the attack.
The party found themselves suddenly in deadly combat, but somehow all the warriors found themselves fighting the same one, leaving the other two to wreak havoc. One of them laid into Venmir, quickly smashing him into the ground. The other two laid into the warriors, and the battle was long and fierce. Venmir slipped towards death (crit fail on his death saving throw!) and Sigurd stepped away from delivering a killing blow to save his friend, who promptly stood up and finished off the beast, much to Sigurd's disgust. Within another round or so, the rest were slain. They turned to see the rest of the guards standing over dead ogres - testament to their skills. Brierhew had killed one on his own.
The party took a moment to rest.... (and so did the game - more next week!)
