Welcome to THE TRAVELERS Archives.

This is the ongoing adventures of Alexandre, Brugar, Devon, Huron and Sean, as well as many, many others...

Subject: 1/7/99 : Suspended

Brugar asks, "Brutus, do you recognize the voice as being Mildred's?"

The huge man nods. "I fear it is my Mildred," he says with a sigh.

Devon looks back to his companions and then to the stone figure of Tanar, "I disagree, we should absolutely head toward the voice. If it were a basilisk, which we are all familiar with, there would not have been a voice. Since there was a voice we can assume that the magicks of Mystra are involved, and magicks of Mystra can be undone...Correct Sean?"

The moonelf mage nods. "But why would someone want to undo what Mystra has granted?" No one answers the marginal zealot.

"We should follow the sound of the voice," suggests Alexandre, "but I'm concerned about what turned Tanar into stone. I've heard of creatures that can change a man to stone just by their gaze - we need to take precautions before we head in. Does anyone have a mirror? Maybe we can use it to look at what we are facing."

Unfortunately, no one seems to have one of suitable size.

Devon looks up, "Make sure his body is safe, and I will head down the corridor, no one would expect someone of my size." The miniature bard walks over to Tanar and pats his stone ankle, "We shall restore you my friend."

Before Devon heads down the hall, he taps Sean to whisper something in his ear, "It is more imperative that we revive Tanar than just to restore his life force. He was carrying one of the bracers, was he not?"

The moonelf nods. Devon pauses and looks to Sean, on a whim he asks, "Sean, please use your gifts of Mystra to Detect Magic in the area if you would. I have a few theories that I wish to play out before I head into certain death." He smiles.

"There is nothing magical ahead," announced Sean confidently.

Devon looks to Alexandre, "Sir, if you would toss a torch down the hallway on the right side to illuminate my path?" When the swashbuckler does, Devon sighs and turns the corner, walking slowly against the wall.

Brugar watches the brave tiny bard disappear. "Where should we back up to, if we don't continue forward?"

"I don't know," replies Asta. "But we cannot go too far with Tanar in this condition." She sighs and watches the tunnel Devon left through.

Devon returns after about ten minutes. "It was a creature... a roosterlike animal. There are a number of 'statues' ahead," he announces. "And Mildred is in a cage suspended above the cave."

Subject: 1/21 : Where now?

"I agree with both of your points, Devon. I think we need to find the dragon before we do anything else," Alexandre says, protectively cupping his hand in anticipation of his diminutive charge falling.

"But what about me wife?" asks Brutus.

"No one is saying we will abandon her, Brutus," states Astamap1.

"I ... agree with Devon," says Brugar, glancing at Asta. "This is too easy, and we should find where the dragon is."

"I personally think our best option is to search elsewhere. If Mildred is not dead yet, I don't see any reason why she would be killed in the next hour or so. Let's explore further and find more about the domain of the wyrm," Devon explains.

Brutus frowns, but does not offer anymore complaints.

Devon continues, "Truly, my statements are based on instinct, not fact, but in the past my instincts have rarely led me astray. It was only on that one fateful occasion." Devon pauses, "Let us continue, we are wasting time."

As Huron and Sean return, Asta asks, "Where now?"

Subject: 1/26 : In Charge

"I would suggest examining the pools once more," Devon says. "Unless there is some other unknown, the peculiarity of that location could be a distraction of mask for what lies beyond." The bard's grin can hardly be seen from Alexandre's shoulder.

"How about a cross the pools?" speaks Huron, unaware that Devon just suggested it."

"If I remember right," says Alexandre, "it looks like there is a passage way up on the right we haven't gone down. I suggest we do that."

Since no one offers up any other comment, Asta says, "Then we should try the pools."

Brutus snorts. "Now that that bossy dwarf is gone, who said *you* were in charge?" he asks derisively.

Subject: 1/28 : Strong Show Of Support

Brugar frowns. "Shut up, Brutus. Tanar is our friend, and I'll not have you speak of him in that way. And considering that the extent of your leadership skills seem to be bullying and charging off like an idiot, I don't think you should be in charge, either. As far as I'm concerned, it's all right with me if Asta runs the show."

"Listen here, you," starts Brutus.

"The pools it is, then," says Alexandre. He turns to face the blustering Brutus. "As for you, Brutus - if you want help getting your wife back, I suggest you act a little more civil. Especially towards a lady. I'd hate to have to teach you a lesson in manners."

Brutus glares at the Swashbuckler.

"Brutus!" Devon squeeks. "This is a group operation like we do everything. It seems that most of us were in agreement to examine the pools, so we shall do that. If you wish to abstain, then by all means feel free to attempt a rescue of the image of Mildred, but I have a feeling that lead is merely a trap."

Brugar chimes in with, "If Devon didn't know and care about your wife, I would be strongly tempted to just leave you here and let you try and rescue her yourself. You'd be dead in an hour."

"Let's quit arguing and move on," Devon adds with exasperation. "Time is wasting."

"Devon is right as usual," says Asta, ignoring Brutus completely. "Back to the pools." Everyone follows the proud priestess, including a surly Brutus. Once they get there, she says, "How shall we cross them?"

Subject: 2/10 TRA : The Pools

"Anyone have a staff to test the depth of the water?" asks Devon. Unfortunately, no one does.

"Wait!" Devon says unexpectedly. "Let us check the passage behind us for any traps. You know, a door that appears suddenly trapping us in here."

Brugar looks about the pool room. "Maybe there is a path... if we only study it longer."

Alexandre sets Devon down and the bard walks over to the edge of the water. He carefully reaches his hand down into the pool and sniffs it.

"Please be careful," says Asta softly.

Devon stands at the edge of the pool scratching his head. "Say, has it been an hour yet?" The bard smirks.

Alexandre chuckles. "Nay, not yet, Devon."

Brugar steps forward, certain he has figured out a path through the bubbling pools. Devon follows close behind, trying not to be stepped on. About halfway through the room, Brugar stops. "Uh-oh," he says just as several stirges appear from around the corner.

Subject: 2/17 TRA : Dead Birds

"Umm, guys, you may want to drop back a bit!" Alexandre exclaims upon seeing the stirges. Meanwhile, he unlimbers his sling and begins to twirl it, looking for an opportunity to let fly with a stone.

Devon leaps back giving his lifelong friend Brugar room enough to shift his feet while in battle. He looks up at the feathered foes with consternation. "I hope that they consider me small enough to throw back."

Brugar draws his sword, preparing to attack.

The others, by virtue of the bend in the passageway, are unable to assist at this moment.

A stirge divebombs the miniature Devon. One can hear the whispered songs of the bard as a blast of color sprays out from his hands toward the bird. Unfortunately, the spell seems to have no effect and the bard tumbles away.

Brugar attacks the closest one, removing its head from its body as it

flies by. Both parts smack against the far wall like stones.

Another stirge comes up short as one of Alexandre's sling stones knock it senseless. It falls into one of the pools with a eerie hiss, never to be seen again. The swashbuckler quickly gets another stone ready.

As the bird swoops by the bard, Devon grabs hold of it's neck feathers and tries to mount the evil beast. This act only sends the tiny bard rolling all too close to one of the pools. "I don't think I will try that again," murmurs Devon.

Brugar slices up another of the strange bird-like creatures and then grimaces as another latches onto his shoulder. Whir-whir-pop goes Alexandre's sling and knocks the stirge off of Brugar before the thing can do any real damage.

While stirges are not the most intelligent of creatures, they know when four of their numbers have been killed and there is no food from the attack that flight is a good thing. But before they can make it around the bend, Brugar slices one in half and Alexandre knocks one out of the air with his sling. The remaining three escape.

Subject: 2/21 TRA : Swallowed Alive

Alexandre says, "Well, guess we don't want to touch that water. That stirge didn't look to happy when it landed in there. Shall we try this again??"

"Well," says Brugar, nodding, "I believe that we were going to try to get past these pools?"

"I'm glad that my skills were successful in forcing them to flee. We should stay alert for a return in force." Devon yells quietly. "Let's be off lifelong friend, and again I thank you for your sure-footedness." The bardling smiles.

Everyone presses forward slowly weaving their way around the pools. As they peer around the bend that the stirges escaped to, an eerie chiming can be heard. Before anyone can react, all of the pools erupt in a chaotic splash of color, and everyone is tossed to the ground as the floor shakes.

Devon jumps out of the way as Brugar almost lands on him. Alexandre manages to pull Asta out of the way of a falls stone, both tumbling over Brugar's prostrate form. Brutus howls as he falls face first into one of the pools. Huron throws out his arms, barely managing to keep from falling into another of the pools. Sean is slammed against one of the cavern walls, dazed.

As if this was not bad enough, the cavern floor gives way beneath Alexandre, Astaligaria, Brugar and Devon, and they seem to be swallowed up by the earth.

Subject: 2/21 TRA : Swallowed Alive - 2

When Alexandre's eyes open, he feels a great weight on his chest. Pushing it off he discovers it is the fully sized Devon. Peering about, he sees that everything is lit by an eerie phosporescent green emenating from some glowing fungi. Checking quickly, he finds that Asta, Brugar and Devon are all alive, and soon regaining consciousness. Looking up, one cannot see the ceiling of this huge cavern.

"I guess we were lucky to land on this mushroom," observes Devon wryly.

Subject: 3/1 TRA : Too Late

"Is everyone alright?" Alexandre asks, checking himself to make sure no bones are protruding. "I think we might be in a bit of trouble. Does anyone have any idea how far we fell? It looks like it is way to far to lower a rope or some such nonsense. I suggest we take a quick scouting run to see what is down here".

Devon looks about. "Given the lack of 'return' magic, I would suggest that we progress slowly and cautiously around this cavern in search of an exit," he notes.

The three carefully climb down off the mushroom.

Devon observes, "This cavern is quite large enough for a dragon, I suggest we find a place near cover."

"Too late," comes a voice like fingernails on slate. Everyone knows they are not alone in the near darkness.

Subject: 3/3 TRA : Eat First?

Pulling his weapons from their sheaths, Alexandre mutters, "Ahhh, shit. I hate when dragons sneak up me....." The swashbuckler tries to find the source of the voice - and any cover that might be available.

Brugar steps before Asta, not sure where the best place to stand really is. He's a tailor and a warrior, not much given to talking, like Devon.

Devon jumps a bit as he looks around and then thinks differently as he stands up to his full height and straightens his tunic. "Well, this is turning out all for the better isn't it." The bard smiles toward the voice in the darkness.

Something moving with deliberate slowness is out there. The sound of metal on stone harasses the ears.

"If you please, I am Devon Halfright, riddle-master extraordinaire, and sleuth supreme at your service." he bows all the while keeping his eyes turned upward toward the voice. "Please forgive the nervousness of my companions, allow me to introduce them, "Astaligaria, priestess of the Sune, Alexandre, swashbuckler supreme, and here, "Devon gestures to the tailor, "Brugar, lifetime companion and talented tailor."

"What do I care what you call yourselves," come the answer, sending a chill down each person's spine. Asta begins a complex prayer to her goddess.

With a deep breath Devon continues, "We know our mere presence means nothing to you. Perhaps you could introduce yourself, although perhaps being that we are in this fine home, you require no introduction."

It sounds like whatever is out there is both in front of and behind the quartet. Asta finishes her spell. "I don't know how much this will work," she whispers.

"Silence!" shouts the creature and its voice echoes throughout the cave, dislodging some of its fragile ceiling upon the four adventurers. "Which of you shall I eat first?"

Subject: 3/6 TRA : Sudden Illumination

"What is this, some kind of trick question??" Alexandre mutters under his breath, hoping that Devon, the self-proclaimed "Riddle-Master" has an answer for this one...

Devon pokes himself, saying, "I don't think that I've been tendered enough to make a good appetizer." the bard chuckles dryly. We must apologize for entering without announcing ourselves, but it is so difficult to tell the nature of a host as powerful as you when we seek something so treasured as the life of a companion." Devon steps forward a tiny step and stops fast as he leans over toward the voice. "There is a bit of business that I'd like to discuss with you, in private if I may. And that business would be a tad difficult to discuss if I were to reside for all eternity in your stomach."

Brugar seems to be concentrating on where the dragon is.

Asta also appears to be trying to fathom the creature's whereabouts, whispering something silently to herself.

"There is nothing you can provide me, but a meal," comments the eerie voice in the darkness. "And since you will not choose, I will eat the woman first."

"Like hell you will!" shouts out Brugar, running blindly towards the wyrm. Before he gets there, a brilliant light erupts in the cave, iluminating everyone, including the nearly one hundred foot black dragon, its huge, scaley head wincing at the sudden light.

"I always wanted to be killed by a dragon," mutters Alexandre as he rushes to Brugar's side.

Subject: 3/11 TRA : Offerings

Brugar bursts forward before anyone can react, poking his sword at the wyrm's huge eye. His blade deflects off the dragons' scaley eyelid.

Alexandre comes up after Brugar, muttering a short prayer to whatever god or goddess will listen. He feints and dodges, trying to find some fault in the dragon's black scale armor.

Devon stands off to the side and screams, "Halt! This bickering and offensive actions are only going to get someone killed, although I must say that I appreciate the light." He says as he nods towards Astaligaria. "I was starting to get a bit sleepy." The bard clears his throat and walks up to the dragon, "Now you may be so arrogant that you don't believe that we have anything to offer you, but I would beg to differ. Life can not be so satisfying here that you would pass up a chance to change up from the status quo with our help?" Devon shivers slightly, "Although, if I'm wrong I would guess that you'd be eating me now?" the bard smiles.

The dragon extends its wings, which are at least one-half its length, the motion buffeting Brugar and Alexandre over like they were a child's doll.

Asta moves up close to Devon. "I hope you know what you are doing, Devon," she whispers.

"If I don't, I will be dragonchow," remarks the bard, still watching the wyrm.

Brugar and Alexandre both try to regain their feet quickly, but the dragon is that much quicker, pinning them both with his massive claws. Neither can move and the black beast is applying just enough pressure to make this imprisonment fairly uncomfortable. "What could you possibly offer me?" asks the dragon to Devon.

Subject: 3/15 TRA : You First

Both Alexandre and Brugar look at each other and then Devon, their fate seeming to be in his hands... or glib tongue.

Devon smiles wryly as he begins to pace in front of the gargantuan reptile. "Your question is an intriguing one..." the bard pauses. "I'd use your name, but I'm not sure that I know it. I did speak to an old man in the swamp who claims to know you, and called you 'Mucknose'. Is that an acceptable name to refer to you by?"

"You could not pronounce my name, human," snorts the black wyrm. "And if you wish me to eat your compatriots right now, you may call me that slander." Its cold, dark eyes look first at Alexandre then at Brugar. "Or I may eat you first."

Subject: 3/20 TRA : Uninteresting?

"Devon," calls out Alexandre, "I think it's probably not a good idea to call him that. He doesn't seem to care for that particular nick-name!"

Devon _shows_ no sign of fear as the dragon speaks, nor does he allow his eyes to stare at the drool dripping from the Wyrm's tongue onto his companion's below. The bard strides toward the dragon slowly as he chuckles, "I thought that the name was a bit slanderous, but then again what else could I expect from a humanoid swamp hermit named Grady. Perhaps when our business is concluded you could share information about that strange old man. He has his own eccentricities." Devon clears his throat and continues as he sees the impatience of the dragon grow. "If you would bear with me for another moment, my tale is forthcoming."

The black wyrm settles his haunches down, but does not release his captives. "I will listen until you bore me. Or I get hungry," it says, voice grating.

Asta hangs back as Devon shakes his head and straightens his hair as he commences his explanation with full flamboyance. "Our task here you see, is two-fold. A lady was taken from the midst of a dastardly set of men with evil in their hearts, by a flying grand dragon. I can only guess that dragon is you and although the men she travels with are evil and wicked, the lady herself I know and wish to perhaps set forth a bargain for her life." Devon cocks his head at the dragon allowing a moment for retort.

The dragon's pupil-less eyes stare back at Devon.

"And the second part of our journey is one more of treasure seeking. Do you know the tale of four mithril bracer's? There is one set known as the Bracers of Lana'Be'aria." Asta starts, but it is too late to stop the bard. "Long ago, when only the elves roamed the surface, and the dwarves ruled beneath, there was an Elven wizard known as Lana'Be'aria. She, as many of her kind agreed, felt that some of the elves of the Hierarchy were delving too deeply into the darker forces of the Weave. You know, the elves that eventually were banished into the Underdark, to become the Drow. But I'm sure that all of this is mere child's talk to you. This bracer we know of, as well as another that we actually carry, if you are interested. Although I'm afraid it's protection did not serve well versus your feathered bird's stone gaze. You know, we have seen such a swamp demon before...a basilisk in fact with a similar fateful power. Poor creature captured amidst a circus..." Devon tails off, "Oh but forgive me, I digress and bore you do I not mighty master of your domain." Devon bows.

The dragon yawns, showing off a very impressive row of teeth. "How very... uninteresting," it announces.

Subject: 3/24 TRA : Eating Alexandre

Brugar twists around as best he can to watch Devon, seemingly willing all the positive energy he can towards the glib bard. There is little else he can do.

Devon's eye winks slightly as he looks directly into the dragon's eyes. "Is this the price for longevity? No more adventure, no more tales that pose interest? An overwhelming lack of curiosity?" Devon sighs, "If that be the case then I would prefer to live my mortal life, and given the current change of events I may get that wish soon, but wait do you not even wish to know _why_ we seek these things? The pure we seek to aid for mere petty human emotions. We care for her life. Now the bracers are more interesting. Indeed there is some historical significance, but more importantly we have a vampiress that follows us and torments us at every turn. In fact, if you are very bored, we could simply wait here for a while, I'm sure she would turn up." Devon looks upward and muses, "I wonder what would be a more fitting or cruel death... dinner for a magnificent dragon? Or petty torture by a mistress of the dark..." Devon looks to the dragon, "Any thoughts on that?"

"I think I will eat you," says the dragon, peering now at Alexandre.

"Devon!" shouts the swashbuckler.

Subject: 4/5 TRA : Such Powers

"Devon, don't bore the nice dragon, get to the damn point!! " Alexander calls out, trying to avoid the drops of drool dripping down. "Some critic you are - he bores you, I get eaten. Now that's fair!"

Devon walks quickly toward the dragon, "Now listen here my reptilian friend." Devon sighs as he reaches the dragon's mouth. "Give me just a moment more. I find it a tad annoying that you give us humans such little concern. We _share_ these realms you know. I certainly have respect for you, and not because you're so large and could swallow me whole, which would not necessarily be to your benefit, but because of your experiences and perserverance in surviving this long. Now I think to myself, why would the dragon attack a group of men and women, killing a majority of the males with his acidic breath, and then fly away with the sole female of the group? Do you seek companionship? Did this Brutus do something to insult you? Did you seek in capturing this woman, whose name is Mildred, as a task for someone? If you intend on eating us anyway, could you not spare us the courtesy of answering these questions first?"

The dragon lifts the struggling Alexandre up to his mouth and opens the maw wide. Its breath is atrocious. "No one said life was fair," it says to Alexandre.

"Fine Dragon, then eat me and let the others go. I cannot guarantee my palatability, but I could not survive knowing that I let my companions here to my death. All but Brutus, who is not here with us is innocent and would not have dared set foot in your home without my desire to enter and free Mildred. Know this however, if you do not set them free after I am set to digest in your stomach, that I shall have the last word, for some humans have powers that even a dragon cannot foresee." Devon looks coldly at the beast.

The dragon pauses just as Alexandre's head is in its mouth. He pulls the struggling swashbuckler out and sets him down, also releasing Brugar. "Do you posses such powers?" it asks Devon.

Subject: 4/8 TRA : Show Me

"Oh, he does, he does!" Alexandre replies for Devon while gagging at the stench of the dragon's breath. The swashbuckler retreatS a few steps to allow the dragon easier access to Devon if he decides to take nosh on someone.

Devon does not nod nor shake his head as he watches his companions released. Motioning for the two to get behind him, he responds to the dragon, "What reason would I have to lie?" Turning his head slightly to the side, Devon inquires, "Perhaps then, with these resources there _is_ something we can do for you?"

The black wyrm idly scratches the thick scales under its chin with one very large claw. "Perhaps. Show me something of your powers."

"I hope you know what you are doing, Devon," whispers Asta.

Devon turns to his companions and whispers, "Please remain calm, your safety is assured."

Brugar stands protectively next to Asta, but remains ready to spring into action and get away from the dragon.

Subject: 4/29 TRA : Exchange

Brugar waits, hoping to be impressed by Devon.

Devon looks intrigued as he regards the dragon, "These powers are not without cost. Exerting magical forces of pure will are, to say the least, draining. We do not have the massive energy stores to draw upon in our miniature bodies. Given the appropriate cause, there can be found justification. When my group was beset upon by a manticore and in sheer danger of being destroyed, I reached within and found the force to strike a death blow. When the vampiress of which I spoke returned to claim the body of our fallen companion Pip, it was our groups powers which staved her off until his guardian Tymora could claim his body." Devon watches the creature carefully during this last statement.

The dragon's eyes are half-lidded. Hard to tell if it is falling asleep or is bored. Or, really what it is thinking.

The bard continues, "The mightiest powers within me though, wait for release. My father and his father, and his father's father before him, have passed down not only these gifts, but the restraint to preserve those powers until it is the right time." Devon stares back at the dragon, "Perhaps even you find an enemy which plagues you? Perhaps..." Devon trails off and then changes his tone. "If your request be a personal one, perhaps my companions could leave and allow us a moment to discuss the quest in private."

"We will not leave you," states Alexandre, this whole time standing ready in case the dragon were to attack.

Asta readily agrees. "We are a team, Devon," she states.

"I should kill you," comments to dragon lazily. "But I won't. What I will do is exchange your lives for a service. I want a treasure I have been unable to gain. I believe you would be able to do so."

Subject: 5/6 TRA : In Exchange

"Please go on." Devon responds.

"What do you want us to do?" asks Alexandre warily.

Brugar and Asta just listen.

The dragon rises up fully onto his limbs, towering over the humans. It yawns mightily, again exposing an impressive set of large teeth. "For creatures such as yourself, this task should be quite simple," he explains. "Just slip in, take what should be mine, slip out, and return it to me."

"Many pardons, noble dragon, but we need a little more information than that," says Devon, appearing calm and confident.

The dragon considers Devon for a *very* long time before answering. "I had thought you more intelligent," he says dismissively.

"Oh, but we are," says the bard quickly. "Not to *your* standards, of course. But we just need to know what we might encounter along the way so we can deal with it properly."

Again, the dragon watches Devon for what feels like an eternity, his huge, ebony pupilled eyes unreadably. "Very well. It is guarded by a creature that deems herself a witch. A very powerful witch, as such things go. I would gather this treasure myself, but her hovel is too small and too deep for me to penetrate. That is where you come in." It smiles toothily. "In exchange for your lives."

Subject: 5/12 TRA : All Will Be Spared

Brugar says, "Doesn't sound too unreasonable. Where is this witch, and what in it that we should be looknig for?"

"Beneath your own lair? Deeper within the swamp? Or elsewhere?" Devon questions as he searches his pack, sighing when he realizes his paper and quills remain in the town where he was judged.

The dragon lifts a claw and points in a direction. "She is not far from here. As a dragon can fly, that is. I assume for you creatures that walk, it is a considerable distance." He sighs, a greenish billowing cloud engulfing the companions. Asta coughs.

"Were you planning on transporting us there?" Devon asks matter-of-factly.

The dragon considers this request. "I will. If only to make sure you do not run off."

"Well, if she is such a powerful witch, maybe we should get some sort of help," states Alexandre. "It is often said that dragons accumulate vast stores of wealth, including magical items. Surely, a creature as magnificent as yourself must have several items that could aid us in this type of adventure. We shall, of course, return them on our successful completion of the mission. I'm sure you understand, such weak beings as ourselves do need all the help we can get, and I know you want us to succeed and bring your back your bauble. Hmmm, come to think of it, you haven't mentioned exactly what it is you want - what are we going to go fetch, anyway?" Alexandre says.

The black wyrm turns its malevolent gaze upon the swashbuckler. "That on," he says, pointing a long claw at Devon, "said you had powers yourselves. Now is the time to prove this claim. Your lives depend on it."

Devon nods as he mentally notes the dragon's comment. "And what does the item look like, that the witch-thief has in her possession?"

"I will tell you when we arrive," says the dragon, snorting.

"Well, seems like we have our work cut out for ourselves," says Asta.

As the group prepares to depart, Devon turns to the dragon, "Oh, there is some unfinished business... There is the matter of the woman we came to find, and the rest of our companions. I trust that this menial task be sufficient to spare their lives as well."

"If you come back alive, all of you will be spared. *When* I have the treasure in my possession."

Subject: 5/20 TRA : Already There

"Well, let's get on with it," states Brugar, taking Asta's hand. "Another crazy quest to sidetrack us."

"Very well, lets get this over with," Alexandre grumbles. "I'm not getting any younger, and his breath", jerking his head towards the direction of the dragon, "certainly isn't getting any better. Let's do it"

"Then we will accept your word as a binding instrument for our agreement." Devon smiles. "Let us be off, I wish to finish this little endeavor in time for dinner." Devon walks up to the dragon and glances around, "Where shall we ride?"

The dragon lumbers ahead of the quartet, out the back of the large cavern. The group is hardpressed to keep up with the black dragon, but eventually it leads them out the twisty, narrow (for a dragon) passages to the surface. Where fortune would have it, it is raining. "Stand together," it commands, not waiting for the group to respond. It murmurs something in an archaic and harch language and a glowing disc apprears at the party's feet.

"Interesting," says Devon, kneeling down to get a closer look.

Asta asks, "Is it safe?" She never gets an answer as the dragon takes to the skies with the disc 'in tow'. By some magical means, no one is lost off the curved platform. The ground zooms past quickly from this high vantage point.

"Hey! There's Huron and the others," Alexandre observes, pointing out the rapidlt diminishing compatriots. He gives up trying to wave.

In short order, then dragon soon lands. "I cannot stay long, for the witch will know I am here," he says as the party dismounts the disc to stand by a large, gnarled and leafless tree. "Within the roots of this tree you will find what I desire. It is a large glowing emerald about the size of your head," it says to Devon. "Take care not to break it." That said, the wyrm leaves, its wings kicking up a swirl of pollen and dust from the dry, marshy plants that surround the tree.

Subject: 5/23 TRA : Stairs

"Before we do anything," says Alexandre as he scans the horizon, "we should take a look about. See where this witch is, then locate the gem. Then we need to make sure it isn't trapped somehow. Then we grab it and run!"

Asta laughs softly at this.

"All in all, I'd say that went rather well. I doubt the trek back will be pleasant, but we can't have everything." Devon says calmly, "Now how to get in..." The bard starts looking carefully around the tree for tracks or some semblance of an opening."

Brugar is the one that finds the entrance to the witch's complex, or so one would assume. A part of the tree trunk swings open to reveal rough hewed stairs leading down into the darkness.

"Well, should we go in or not?" asks Asta, her amusement fading.

Subject: 5/26 TRA : What's Down There

"Well, we're here, we may as well see whats down there," says Alexandre.

"If we are too accomplish our task I would say yes," Devon says in jest to Asta. "However, I believe that Alexandre had a point. We must think ahead. It will take us a bit longer to return to Mucknose's lair without a lift, so we will either end up killing the witch, being killed by the witch, or grabbing the gem and running. In case of the latter, we might wish to search around for some type of hiding place or scout ahead for our escape route." Devon deftly shakes his blonde hair back into place as it was mussed from the airy travel.

"You always do look ahead, don't you, Devon?" asks Asta, still frowning at the idea of the witch killing any of them.

"We should go in," Brugar agrees. " I'll go first, unless anyone has objections to that. I'll need some sort of light, though."

Asta nods to her beloved and picks up a small pebble. She murmurs a brief prayer and suddenly the pebble gives off a bright light. "Here you go, Brugar."

The warrior smiles as he accepts the pebble. He looks at it and grumbles, in a light-hearted tone, "The dragon would choose the one person in the group with the biggest head to indicate the gem's size...."

Everyong laughs. A nervous kind of laugh. "Well," says Brugar, "Its true."

Devon looks about. "This place is very... strange," he comments, bending down to look at the opening in the tree. "Not very inviting."

"I hardly believe this witch wants company," comments Alexandre with a wry grin.

"Yes," says Devon drolly. He scratches his chin as he watches Brugar peer down the stairs with his light. The stairs continue down for about fourty feet before leveling off to a passageway carved into the dirt. "I still believe we should look for someplace to hide out should we find a need for such a place."

Subject: 5/28 TRA : Roots

Brugar kicks at a small rock. "I am sure that the witch knows this immediate area far better than we could ever hope to," he says. "Our best bet is to run, not hide - who knows what sorts of familiars it has spying on us."

"Finding a place to hide isn't a bad idea," Alexandre says to Brugar. "But we'd need one for all of us. I suggest we find someplace to regroup, should we have to make a quick exit, then get this over with."

Devon nods with a sigh, and walks a perimeter of nearly 100 feet out from the tree, noting as much as he can about the countryside.

Brugar shakes his head. "If we can, maybe we can arrange a trade with this witch. No need to get in a hopeless fight if we can avoid it."

"I only wish that were possible," says Asta, her attention on Devon.

Returning to the tree, Devon looks down into the tree's entrance to see if anyone has arrived. "Brugar may have a point. We could just investigate a bit, and then see if we need a base of operations."

Shrugging, Alexandre follows the others. The passage is dank from the swamp, but relatively dry. Tree roots and other plants seem to secure the walls and rounded ceiling of the passage.

Once at the base of the stairs, Devon sees that the path curves slightly to the left. Putting a finger to his lips, the bard strains to hear anything ahead. Moments pass and the bard sighs. "I can't hear anything, but that may just mean there's a door ahead." Moving forward, Devon waves Brugar and Alexandre to either flank, with Asta taking the rear.

And the bard's guess was correct. After a few dozen feet, they come upon a rather stout looking rounded door, roots of some tree serving to secure it tightly in place. There is a knob, but no apparent keyhole. Checking the knob, Devon finds that it doesn't budge.

Subject: 6/3 TRA : What?

Devon whispers, "I would imagine the witch has it closed with magic. I wonder if there are any runes..." he adds as he turns to face the door again.

"Well, we can't open the door - let's try something different. Knock on the door, maybe we can talk the witch into just giving us what we want?!?" Alexandre says hopefully.

Devon grins and says, "Open...Sesame." He shrugs, "It worked before."

Brugar and Asta smile at Devon's reference.

"Perhaps Brugar was right," says the bard. "We might be able to meet this witch and learn more about her. We might then find that we have something to bargain with." Devon adds quietly. With that he poises his knuckles near the door to knock, awaiting objection from the group.

No one stops him, so Devon knocks on the door thrice and shouts, "Is anyone home? This swamp is horribly uncomfortable, and we'd like a place to rest our weary bones."

Nothing happens. For a very long time they wait. Devon is prepared to knock again when the door swings out, making them all jump back to avoaid it. Standing in the doorway is a gnomish sized woman of exceptionally large bulk and hideous visage. Wisps of white hair top her warty and large head. Her eyes are bulbuous and slightly crossed. Her nose looks like a mouldy mushroom, and her mouth is incredibly large. The rags she wears looks and smells like they havn't been washed in decades. "What?" she asks in a raspy voice.

Subject: 6/6 TRA : Witch's Domain

Alexandre looks to Devon to answer this.

Devon bows lightly toward the old woman, "Greetings malady. We have lost our way and wondered if you might be able to provide us shelter and comfort while we regain our bearings. We would greatly appreciate any efforts you could spend for us."

The old witch snarls and snaps, "Go away. I don't like glib talkers," to Devon.

Brugar smiles at the hag. "I am Brugar Enrico Weedlekin, warrior and tailor. My friends here and I have a companion that is being held captive by a swamp-dragon. She said the only way to free her was to get a large gem from you and return it to her. Not wishing to break in to your home, we thought we would speak to you and possibly make some sort of trade for it?"

Asta blinks at Brugar's forthrightedness, then looks to the witch for her reaction.

The witch leans forward and sniffs at Brugar. "I know that. I know everything!" she screeches. "Come in." Turning, she waddles away into the room beyond.

The foursome look at each other and follow the hag in. The room beyond doesn't smell much better than the old witch. And it is just as chaotic and sloppy looking. There are odd-sized tables everywhere covered with an even odder assortment of plants, dead animals, boxes, vials, and otherthings best left unexplored. Some of the animals are still moving, even though they have limbs or eyes removed. Most are not and lay cut open. The ceiling of this room is low and roots dangle down, seeming to move and sway on their own. And there appears to be no other way out of the large room.

The witch stops in the center of the room, standing on a faded pentagram and turns to face the party. Before she speaks, a fat black cat hops into her arms. She strokes the feline as she asks, "So, what has old Mucknose told you?"

Subject: 6/9 TRA : Toads

Devon chuckles as a few of the group look toward him. The bard keeps his mouth closed and looks toward his life-long friend with a smile.

Brugar looks a little confused. "Well, she told us that you were a witch, and would know if she stayed around too long. I _think_ she said that you had stolen this gem from her." He looks to Devon for confirmation.

The bard merely nods.

Pointing at Devon, Brugar continues. "The gem is a large emerald, as big as his head. Again, we don't want any trouble, and don't want to get in a fight with you."

The old woman cackles with glee, sounding very much like the witch used to frighten young children into behaving. "That old one is wily. How did you fall prey?" she asks.

Alexandre answers. "He hasn't told us much of anything. We were clumsy enough to fall under his control, and managed to get him to promise to release us if we performed a service for him. He says you have a gem that belongs to him: if we get it back, us and our companions are free to go."

"Lies! Lies I tell you," she says, waving her hands in a dismissive manner. "The ebon one desires my power, for I am the only one she cannot defeat and thus rule these abismal marshes."

"If she tells us lies," says Asta carefully, "then how may we rescue our companions?"

The witch turns a bulging eye on the party. "You can't. Now get out before I turn you all into toads."

Subject: 6/16 TRA : Talky

"If you would but pardon my glib tongue for a moment," says Devon with a low bow, "I find it difficult to believe that you would have invited us in, only to tell us to leave or suffer the fate of a tadpole." The bard chuckles, albeit briefly, at his own joke. "Let us shed these pleasant shells and get down to business. If you cannot free our companions for us, then I'm afraid our only recourse is to retrieve this gem from you. If there is no service or trade that can be made, then I'm afraid you'll have to attempt to use your tricks and change us into toads, for allowing my fellows to die at the hands of old Mucknose, could not leave me feeling any worse than being a toad..." Devon stares back at the woman's bulging eye and then adds, "I'd prefer to just save my friends of course, my fate lies in the bowels of the Dungeons of Time. Perhaps you'd like me to send you an artist's rendition of the place in trade?"

The old witch snarls at Devon and wriggles her fingers in his direction. The bard's lips continue to move, but no sound issues forth. "I told you to be quiet," is her only comment.

Alexandre looks at Devon, then to the witch. "Well, if old Mucknose can't beat you, will you help us beat her so we can go?"

The witch looks at the swashbuckler. "You are a pretty one," she comments in a leering fashion. "Does he belong to you?" she asks Astaligaria.

The Priestess of Sune merely smiles. "All men belong to me," she says quite confidently.

The old woman laughs throatily at this. "Then give him to me and I will help." Alexandre's eyes bug out.

Brugar steps forward. "Are you sure there is no _other_ service we could perform for you to get the gem?" he asks, looking towards the tounge-tied swashbukler, then at Asta. The Priestess hasn't answere the witch, but even she wouldn't trade away Alexandre's 'services' like that. "The dragon expected us to have to kill you, so I can see how the whole power-struggle is there. But if we get the gem, we can free our friend. Maybe you could cast a spell on it to poison or trap the dragon?"

The witch shakes her head. "I'd need some assurance from you all that you could take on 'Ol Mucknose. She's a wily one and we are pretty much at a standstill come to our battlin'" She sees Devon frantically pointing to his mouth and wiggles her fingers. "Just don't be so talky, okay?" she says with great irritation.

Subject: 6/20 TRA : A Weapon?

Looking thankfully first at Asta, Alexandre clears his throat and says, "What kind of assurances do you need from us?"

"You tell me," replies the witch, her impatience seeming to spring from nowhere.

Brugar frowns. "The four of us againts a dragon. She disabled us pretty quickly with a minimum of effort. Of course, she did surprise us. I don't know. If we had all of our friends, maybe. Howover, if you two are evenly matched, we would be a fine distraction... while fighting us, she would not be expecting or quite able to deal with you. It would be very dangerous for us, though. I would be willing to try. I am willing to put my life on the line for your friend, Devon."

"As would I," states Asta firmly as she links her arms between her and Brugar.

Devon pauses for others to talk as he carefully selects his words, "If it is just a balance of power we are talking about, I would think that our party could help overcome Mucknose; however, " he pauses briefly, "if we fail we are as good as dead with such an enemy."

The witch considers what is said. "What if I give you a weapon that can slay a black wyrm instantly?" She seems to be indicating that she isn't planning on leaving her underground hovel."

Subject: 6/26 TRA : The Weapon

Everyone's questions come at once...

Brugar exclaims, "Ah, that would make a big difference! That would increase our chance of survival immensely. What sort of weapon is it?"

"If you have a weapon that will kill her instantly, why haven't you used it?" asks Alexandre. "What is the price one has to pay to slay such a creature?"

"It would depend on whether any of us had a proficiency with such a weapon. And indeed if would pose a question..." Devon pauses, "Why haven't _you_ used it?"

Asta doesn't say anything, the men in her life having asked exactly what was on her mind.

The old witch cackles. "Look at me? Do you think I could wield such a weapon?" she asks, not letting you actually answer that. "There is always a danger going up against a wyrm. I cannot elimanate that." She waddles over to one of the many crates that are haphazardly piled about. "But if you truely want to slay this foul, lying beast, I can give you this."

She opens the lid off the crate and reveals a rather rusty old longsword. The blade is not nicked. In fact, for all the rust, it looks fairly sharp. It lays aside a well oiled, but otherwise non-descript scabbard.

As everyone looks at the weapon, Brugar says, "Ah, we should also have some sort of decoy gem so Mucknose doesn't get suspicious when we show up empty-handed."

Subject: 7/1 TRA : Child's Head

Alexandre smiles broadly. "The decoy is an excellent plan, Brugar. It might be a good idea if we disguised ourselves somewhat to give the appearance that we were in a battle. That might further convince the drake."

The squatish old woman shrieks. "Don't think ol' Mucknose a mere drake, or you'll be a dead fool."

"Who knows how to use this?" asks Brugar. "My specialty is the short sword - its speed suits me much better."

Devon observes the group carefully as they discuss the weapon and the confident witch. "If I may?" Devon politely asks the witch for an audience.

With her reluctant approval, Devon smiles, albeit briefly, "The risk is ours, and ours alone. We made a deal with the dragon, but then again who is to say what is worse, making a deal with a dragon to steal or slay his enemy, or double-cross the dragon. Either way, I'd say we were in for it when I found that Mildred had been taken by the dragon."

Devon sighs, "I will be more than willing to help you gain control over the swamp if you answer just a few questions. Do you have any idea why Mucknose would capture a female and keep her caged?"

The witch seems to dismiss the question, scrunching up her face and walking away muttering to herself.

"She's helpful," observes Asta quietly, having a difficult time remaining in the presence of such ugliness.

Devon asks his second question, with narry a reaction to the not getting a answer to his first, "What is so powerful about the gem that Mucknose seeks to have it?"

The witch turns about quickly. "That is not a question you should ask, glibtongue," she squawks, her fingers wiggling. Devon instantly takes her meaning.

"Very well," says Devon, casting a glance at his fellows. "Are you protected from the dragon here? I mean, can the dragon tell what has been said in here? Are we alone?" Devon concludes.

The witch stops her menacing gesture and nods. "I can't see her, she can't see me," she states simply, then picks something out of her wild mass of hair and eats it.

Brugar shudders. "Now, is there anything you can mock up as a decoy gem, miss .. ah, er, lady witch?"

Moving to the far side of the room, and nearly stepping on some ratlike creature that scurries across the floor, the witch opens a small case. "Here. This will likely decoy ol' Mucknose long enough for you to stab her with the poker." The ruby gem is the size of a child's head.

Subject: 7/14 TRA : Gem of...

"Well, I guess we have a plan," says Alexandre, sighing. "We don't have much choice, I say we get it on and make the best of it." The swashbuckler seems less than happy.

Brugar volunteers to carry the gem. "What if this gem ends up destroyed during the battle? I don't want you angry at us for damaging your property."

The old woman cackles. "Not to worry," she says before falling into a coughing fit.

Brugar asks, "Also, how are we to get back? The dragon flew us here, and I do not know the return path."

Waddling to one of the chests, the old woman produces a wormeaten old scroll. "This is a map of the marshes," she tells Brugar as she hands it to him. "It is worth more than the lot of you," she adds ominiously.

Devon shakes his head as he regards the gem, "As you yourself indicated, fair mistress of the swamp, this dragon is no mere drake. How could Mucknose be impressed with this gem. Aside for it's size, I imagine it does not carry the weight of ownership that the Gem of-", Devon stops and covers his mouth.

"Gem of what?" asks the swamp witch, curiosity piqued.

Asta looks at the bard, also curious what he has planned.

Subject: 7/21 TRA : Plan Of Action

Sensing Devon might be trying to run some sort of scam, Alexandre (while praying silently that he's read the situation right), says, "That's not a subject we need to bring up here, Devon. Let's get this show on the road!"

Devon seems nervous as he pulls a torn cloth from his pocket and wipes his brow. "I just assumed... well, I thought..." The bard flounders for words. Clearing his throat he continues, "That's fine. I must be mistaken, we shall take this gem and make the best of it." Devon bows his head in thanks, "We shall take extra care with the map. Perhaps it's value can be traded for our meager lives someday."

The bard turns flamboyantly to the others, "Then I guess we should be heading back."

Brugar looks at Asta who nods. Taking her arm, he escorts her out to the gleeful cackles of the old woman. "Tymora look after you," she chortles. "No one else will."

Once outside, Asta addresses the group. "Well, what is our _real_ plan of action here?"

Subject: 7/25 TRA : Mental Exhaustion?

Alexandre shrugs and looks towards Devon. "It sounded like you had a plan, what's the scoop?"

Devon asks to see the map and carefully examines it.

Brugar frowns. "I told Devon that I would stand by him if he sought to rescue Mildred. I do not like her husband, and do not know her at all, but I will stand by my friend. I am willing to face the dragon - there is a chance we can kill her, with this weapon. But we need to prepare a plan. Devon could carry the gem, while I could try to pass by - or simply rush to a better angle - and either try to get to Mildred or distract the dragon."

Devon looks up from the map, "All I want to know is how we're supposed to get the dragon to believe that we are color blind." Devon chuckles as he points to the gem.

Asta sighs. "Working for a witch to fool a dragon who sent us to steal from the witch. I don't think Tanar would have fallen into this mess." She sits down on a root and covers her face.

Subject: 7/29 TRA : Buzz Buzz

"So, basically, we don't have a real plan," comments Alexandre dryly. "We may as well start walking, maybe the pressure of certain death will stimulate some brain cells!"

"Get up, we have work to do," Brugar says tersely to Asta. "Or are we going to let this woman die because of our inaction? We have a long way to walk, and waiting isn't going to make it any easier."

The priestess of Sune gives the warrior-tailor a withering look, but does stand.

"I have this feeling that we're in over our head, that's for sure." Devon says. Pointing to the map, Devon continues, "Let's head for this resting area marked on the map. It appears to be a couple of hours worth of travel, and we can rest and collect our thoughts."

Since no one has a better idea, they head for the place the bard indicated. The walk is rather quiet, what with Asta glaring at Brugar most of the way, and the buzzing insects being very annoying. But they make it. Well, they arrive to the spot the shelter is supposed to be at, but the area is now under thick mud.

"What is that buzzing?" asks Alexandre as it gets louder. Huge mosquitoes, the size of dogs, are flying towards the group.

Subject: 8/25 TRA : Sweating

"Hmm, leaving - my, what a good idea!" Alexandre yells as he draws his sword and backs away from the huge bugs. "Anybody got any ideas? I'd hate to see how much blood those things can suck!"

"I see it's time to defend ourselves the old-fashioned way!" exclaims Devon as he draws his sword. As the combat commences, the bard begins to chant, "Little band of traveller's, walking through the swampland, fighting large mosquitos, and slicing off their wings."

Asta gives Devon a curious look, then begins a prayer.

Brugar takes up a position before Asta as the mosquitos attack.

Unlike their minute cousins, these bloodsuckers aren't so easily swatted, even by skilled swordsmen. They first volley of attacks find Alexandre fending off three of the monsters, one of which slips through his defense and begins the slow process of draining the swashbuckler of his blood.

Brugar is a little more successful with his blade and slices off the proboscis of his single opponent.

Devon's chant seems not too successful a mosquito repellant, as four of the bugs vie for his lifesblood. Two are successful in piercing the skin before Devon's blade hacks one of their heads off.

Asta continues her prayer unmolested.

Seeing that Asta is, for the moment, unassaulted, Brugar moves quickly to the aid of his life long friend. Alexandre curses at the mosquitoes as he slices off the wing of another of them, leaving just the one at press him with its attach. "Damn things are some of the best swordsmen I have ever encountered," muttters the swashbuckler.

Devon manages to continue his chant, though he is now bleeding in several places. His hands are moist with sweat and don't quite hold the sword as firmly.

Subject: 8/28 TRA : Big

Devon wipes off a hand on his tunic and grabs for a dagger in an attempt to peel the creatures from his back, all the while trying to maintain his light-hearted chant.

Brugar hacks at the insectoid monsters attacking Devon, knocking one off and stomping on it. His teeth are gritted as he tries not to hit the chanting bard with his sword.

Alexandre's sword is a blur as he fends off his attackers. The swashbuckler's skills finally win out, though, as the last one falls to the ground dead.

Finishing up her prayer, Asta then reaches over and touches Devon's hip. The bard glows violet for a brief moment and then looks remarkably better. He doesn't stop his chant and presses his attack in concert with Brugar and Alexandre.

Then the marshes are silent as the last mosquito falls.

"They grow 'em big around here, don't they?" mutters Alexandre.

Subject: 9/10 TRA : Grouchy

"And the good fairy came, and squashed little bunny fufu..." Devon completes his song and only grins at the strange look from Brugar and Alexandre.

Alexandre checks himself for any bites he didn't notice, then suggests the group gets the heck out of this area.

"Is there some way we can make a screen to keep those things away?" asks Brugar. "I'm sure there are more of them. If not, we should find another place to rest tonight."

Asta sighs. "There is, but bugs are generally not in the control of the Lady."

The bard turns to Astaligaria and bows deeply, "Thanks to you and Sune for your touch." The bard sighs, "Now before we become too relaxed, let us continue."

Since everyone in in agreement about leaving the area, Alexandre takes the point and they move out, dodging pitfalls of quicksand and escaping the reemergence of the huge mosquitoes. But the humidity and heat start to take their toll and even the most patient of the foursome is starting to be agitated by the time they break for camp.

The closest thing to a suitable camp they find is a small clearing with several overhanging and decaying trees. There is a long dead firering in the center, but no signs of recent inhabitants. Asta declares this place safe for the evening and sits on a stump to brush her hair.

Subject: 9/16 TRA : Surprise Awakening

Devon looks upward and says aloud, "I hope that dragon appreciates the power we expended taking the gem from that witch." The bard adjusts his backpack on the ground and lies down on it. "I also hope that our companions are safe from harm."

As Alexandre sits and cleans the muck from his boots, he says, "I think we all had a hard day. Let's just relax and calm down a bit, or we might say somethings we don't really mean and hurt someone's feelings." Alexandre, the ever-considerate swashbuckler.

Asta gives the swashbuckler a curt glances, then resumes her nightly beauty routine.

Brugar is quiet, silently pondering something he is not ready to share just yet.

Leaning back Devon places his hands behind his head and peers upward through the trees to the open sky.

The night passes.

Well, not uneventfully when everone wakes up. Brugar is the first to notice they are surrounded by several dozen small goblinoids known as kobolds, all holding spears or axes trained on the group.

Subject: 9/23 TRA : Someone You Gotta Meet

Devon slowly sits up, "Well its about time you show up. What kept you?"

Looking around at the surrounding creatures, Alexandre mutters, "I knew there was some reason I hated camping out," as his hands close on his sword and main-gauche at his sides, waiting for an attack by the beasts or for one of his party to lead the action.

Brugar also makes sure his sword is in reach.

Asta slowly rises from her bedroll, looking resplendent as usual. Holding her hands up as the kobolds make threatening gestures with their spears, she says something is the Koboldi tongue.

One of the forty kobolds steps forard to respond to whatever Asta said. He looks like a leader, though he isn't dressed any much differently than the others.

Asta nods and turns to her companions. "They will give us time for me to get ready before they take us to their village.

"Asta," says Brugar, grabbing his sword and sheathing it. "Why are they taking us to their village?"

"They have someone we *need* to meet," she responds. "But won't say who."

Subject: 9/25 TRA : Little Lizard Muck Kickers

Let the sighing begin...

"It's about time." Devon sighs as he stands and collects his things.

Brugar sighs. "Well, if it's that important, and as long as they don't seem to want ot attack right now, I suppose we can afford another detour."

"Well, with an invitation like that, we can't say no!" Alexandre comments sarcastically, then thinks the better of it and smiles. "Why not, I've never been to a kobold village before, this could be interesting...."

Astaligaria seems pleased that there was no argument. Turning to the leader of the kobolds, she speaks a few words and then goes to gather up her things.

"So, Devon," says Alexandre as he moves closer to the bard, "what do you think is going to happen?"

Devon simply turns to his fellows and grins, "It will all become apparent in time."

The swashbuckler gives Brugar a weary look, and the warrior tailor merely shrugs, taking his position next to Asta.

They follows the kobolds through the marshes, pleased that the small goblinoids know some fairly stable trails with plenty of headroom. But it is not a slow march to their village... they move with a purpose.

"This makes me nervous," Alexandre doesn't mind admitting. "Witches. Dragons. Little Lizard Muck Kickers...."

Devon laughs. "I've never heard that phrase used," he comments.

The shwashbuckler smiles. "More common in eastern Cormyr, where there's a problem with them," he replies. They walk on further.

About an hour into their travels, the leader stops the march and says something to Asta. "We have to give them our weapons," she translates. "Or we don't continue."

Subject: 10/2 TRA : Baddoon

"Give up our weapons?!" Alexandre sputters. "They can't be serious... Ahhhh! I hate when this happens! They out number us close six to one and they want us to give up our weapons. Just great. Well, we have no choice, besides, they probably could take them by force if they wanted to. Very well." With no further comment, Alexandre unbuckles his sword belt and hands it over.

Brugar frowns. "Fine. But don't let them run off with them. I'll chase them down, and you know I can catch them. They won't like that."

Devon smiles and shrugs as he takes off his rusty sword. "It's not something I can't live without, besides, my most deadly weapon is not carried at my side." The bard grins.

The weapons are taken and there is a small verbal exchange between Asta and the kobold leader. "Okay, they are ready to take us in."

Devon combs his hair with his hand and adjusting his clothing. He sighs, "There, I'm all ready, let's go." The bard seems almost eager.

The rest of the way is fairly easy and quick, and they soon find themselves on the outskirts of a rather large village - in number of buildings, not the size of them. Someone who could only be a shaman, by his huge feathered and boned headdress approaches the group. "You come," he says in hesitant common tongue. "You come and meet Baddoon."

"Babboon?" queries Alexandre to Devon, who smiles.

"Come. Come." The shaman leads the four to the largest, in terms of height, of the brambles and thatch buildings. All around them are kobolds, curious young and old.

Asta goes in first, followed quickly by Brugar, and then Devon and Alexandre, and the leader and shaman. Inside the unfurnished hut lays an elderly elven woman on a thick mat. Even for elves, she looks ancient. Asta falls to her knees next to the enfeebled woman and clasps her shrivelled hand in hers. "Baddoon..." she repeats as the older woman smiles weakly. Looking at her friends with tears in her eyes, Asta explains, "This is one of the elves returned from Evermeet."

Subject: 10/7 TRA : Traced It To You.

"Evermeet? Where's that? A long journey?" Alexandre asks, puzzled at the unfamilar name.

The kobold interrupts Asta's answer. "Braddon. Come see. Help?"

Devon bows gallantly in front of the elven elder. "A pleasure... Devon Halfright, Riddle master and sleuth supreme. At your service."

The elder elf reaches up her hand to touch Devon's arm. "I can tell from your eyes that even for one so short lived, there is truth in your title," she says, sounding both tired and spry, like so many bells ringing on a spring morning.

Devon listens intently to the words of the woman as he studies her face closely.

Brugar sidles up next to Astaligaria "Then she might know of the items we seek? How did she come to live here? Is she well?"

The half-elf nods, a certain wonder in her clear eyes. "Evermeet is the fabled land all elves go to when they tire of their existance here on Faerun. Said to be across the sea."

The Priestess of Sune turns back to the frail elven woman. "Why are you here in these dismal swamps?" she asks.

Braddon sits up with Asta's assistance, and the servitile kobold shaman ever close. "I come because a great ill befalls the land. A sickness that stems from deep within these marshes." Her breathing is labored. "The great Sages of Evermeet sought out a volunteer to come and see what causes the black stain on this land. And I have traced it to here. And you," she says in a non-accusatory fashion to the group.

Subject: 10/13 TRA : A Truce?

"A black stain?? Traced to us??? What ARE you talking about??" Alexandre asks excitedly.

Devon places a hand on the swashbuckler's shoulder, restraining him just a little. "I am sure the evidence is plain, but I ask you elder, is this black stain caused by something we carry, something we have done, or something we are about to do?" Devon squints his left eye as he questions the elf.

The old woman sits up with Asta's assistance. "You are a part of it, not the beginning nor the end, but wrapped up in it none-the-less."

Brugar says, "I would hope that you mean that we might be the cure, not the cause...."

Braddon turns her wise gaze upon the warrior. "That is why I am here. To guide you to the path of curing and not disaster. If you are brave enough to venture that path."

Devon smiles at the conversation in the tent. Despite its disturbing nature, Devon finds intrigue in this new turn of events, that much is obvious.

Asta speaks with conviction. "I am, as I know my companions are, Elder One. Tell us what we must do and we will."

The old elven woman's clear eyes move from face to face, as is judging their worth. "This I can see. You must bring Tanislana and Quetzinibathiquonia together in a truce."

Subject: 10/20 TRA : Arrangements

Alexandre looks at the old elf with a quizzical expression. "Tanislana? Quetzinibathiquonia?? Ummmm........huh??"

Brugar is also confused. "Obviously, you are much more knowledgeable than I. Are theso two names people? Villages? Countries? Gods?"

Devon grins knowingly, "Of course...both maintain distinctive power in the region, neither gaining an advantage over the other, yet both have enticed us, as outsiders to interfere and use our powers to overcome the other."

The elf smiles at this. Brugar and Alexandre gain a look of comprehension.

Devon sighs, "Braddon, how may we get them together, and what must we sacrifice. Either can defeat us at will, or so they believe," Devon smiles wryly, "and we have companions trapped within the lair of...the Wyrm. My glib tongue has worked many a miracle in time, some of it serendipitous, but I would consider it the challenge of a lifetime to to attempt this task and survive, much less succeed."

"Do not get me wrong, I did not say I don't think I can do it...because I think _we_ can, but it will be difficult without guidance." Devon adds.

The elder elf's smile does not diminish. "That is one role I might play before I leave then," she says, then coughs weakly. "My last role, I am afraid."

Asta jumps at this. "That cannot be so, Elder. Elves do not die, like other races do," she reminds her needlessly.

The older woman cups Asta's chin, thumb wiping away the tears. "Some things even the Elves cannot stop, my dear. Even the Elder Race can succumb to the ravages of injury and disease." She then clears her throat and asks, "What arrangements have you made with each? This might help me help you find the correct path. And what of these other companions?"

Subject: 10/27 TRA : Catastrophy

Understanding finally dawning on him, Alexandre says, "Ahhh, I get it. The witch and the dragon. Gottcha. This should be easy - we told the dragon we'd steal a gem from the witch, and we told the witch we'd kill the dragon. Should be no problem bringing them together....."

Devon clears his throat. "Perhaps a little more detail might be in order?" he suggests. Alexandre grins and bows, withdrawing figuratively to the storyteller.

"Quetzinibathiquonia," Devon begins determinedly, "tasked us to retrieve a large green gem from Tanislana, assuming that we would need to kill her to retrieve it. We spoke honestly with Tanislana, knowing that our position was somewhat weaker than hers, and she in turn provided us with a large ruby, obviously thinking that the Wyrm is color blind, and a rusty long sword with the supposed capabilities of slaying a dragon. Now, we were originally tasked by the dragon in order to save our lives. We entered his lair to retrieve a woman, Mildred, who the dragon stole from an acquaintance of mine. She is a sweet and gentle woman, and so I vowed I would aid them. Within the lair we were separated from our companions most abruptly. Tanar, the mighty and experienced dwarf, was turned to stone by a feathered beast. Mildred's _friend_ and a few other of our number were left in a watery cavern when we fell through a sinkhole." Devon gestures to those around him, save the kobolds.

"It would be risky, although foolhardy," Devon grins, "to return to the Wyrm with the sword packed away. If it truly has the powers Tanislana spoke of, we could provide the weapon to the dragon under the guise of peace, explaining our loyalty to his cause and such. My hope would be to guide the conversation to the futility of their feud. In such a case I would require two things...evidence to prove the futility, hopefully something which can, without a doubt, prove that he has been damaged by the relationship. The second would be some method of protecting ourselves from his wrath, at least temporarily, to show our strength.

"As usual, I would be willing to enter by myself, or with another, to limit the risk to our group. As I said, I feel as though I have dragged my companions into this, and I will never again allow my action or inaction to cause harm to a loved one." Devon says firmly and then after a brief pause turns to Astaligaria, "especially a friend as lovely as you," and then to Brugar, "and one so long-lasting as you." The bard smiles and adjusts his ragged clothing.

"Hey, what about me?" asks Alexandre.

"I see," says the elder elven woman. "Then events have already unfolded," she says with some sorrow. "Somehow we must get the two to meet. Otherwise, thereb will be catastropy."

Subject: 10/31 TRA : A Plan?

"I see," Devon says rather dejectedly. It is apparent that is is disappointed by Braddon's words.

Brugar asks, "How are we supposed to get them to meet? The witch won't leave her home and the dragon's not going to come a-calling on the witch. And the dragon is right-out evil. I don't think she cares if the feud is pointless - she just likes to eat things and set traps for the witch." From his expression, he doubts they could succeed in bringing the two together.

Braddon is silent for a very long while. Asta hovers near the enfeebled elf, protective.

The swashbuckler hooks his thumbs into his belt. "What sort of catastrophy are you speaking of? And when you say 'meet', do they have to come together as friends, or can the two of them being in the same room qualify to prevent this catastrophy?"

Devon hushes the others, "Wait, I need a few moments to think, I believe I have a method of bringing these two together, if I can have a moment to work out the details."

10/5/99

Chubble looks at the dragon and asks, "Did you find him?"

"Can that thing talk?" Alexandre asks, incrediuosly. "I've got to get out more...."

De'von comes out from the brush and looks under the branch, "Interesting thought Chubble... invisibility is an interesting trait of mages isn't it..."

The small dragon flies around in a small perimeter then looks at the halfling blankly.

"Damn!" Chubble says. He looks over the others. "When Malagar teleported away with Brugar and I, we ended up in a darkened room. I found my way out through a small river cave, but the boat was lost over a nearby waterfall. I think I can track us back to the location of his home, if we want to see if he went back there!"

Brugar clears his throat. "I for one have no interest in dealing with that mage again." He glances at Asta.

The priestess reaches for the warrior-tailor's hand and nods. "Nor do I."

Brugar takes a deep breath. "Asta and I have been talking about this, and we've decided to take Tanar and find someone who can fix him, and then settle down from this way of life."

10/12/99

"My life-long friend? Can it be? I find it hard to believe you have lost the drive, but then..." the she-bard looks toward Asta. "if you must settle down, I can't find anyone more settling that I'd want to be with."

Asta smiles at the bard. A genuine but sad smile.

The woman previously known as Devon walks toward his friends, "Let us not drag this out, perhaps the long journey will weigh on your final decision, for now let us move on, leaving the mage behind to taunt me... along with the vampire... along with the courts of Cormyr... and along with the shadows who come to me in my dreams." She grins at her friends and holds out a soft hand for each of them. "For now," she adds quietly, "let us simply walk on in silence toward Tanar's freedom, that we may find some peace in the coming change."

"I am saddened to lose you two as travelling companions, but I rejoice at your happiness. May you find all the joy you are entitled too", Alexandre says, bowing to the pair. "so, what are the rest of us going to do??"

10/15/99

Chubble sidles up to Devon and asks, "Weren't you a man when I left?"

10/26/99

The attractive blonde smiles at the little one, "Indeed, I was, and perhaps someday I will be again or the lady who caught my eye may never have the opportunity to... and well, neither will I?" A familiar yet different sounding laugh comes from the bard.

11/2/99

Chubble looks at her for a moment, then says, "Well, Devon... I suppose it doesn't matter. You'll eat Lunch, all the same, I guess. And, well - frankly, you're much nicer to look at now!" He smiles sheepishly.

"OK, guys, let's sum up where we are: there's a mage Lunch-only-knows where around here. As far as I know, our soldier escort has been all but wiped out. And half of our adventuring party just decided to take off and start a farm somewhere." Chubble reaches into his backpack for a turnip. Munching thoughtfully, he adds, "And to top it off, I'm still separated from my own party... though you guys seem much more interesting! I should probably head up toward Peldan's Helm in Mistledale. I'm sure they'll head back there to check in. Do you two have any other plans? I know that a half-tenday trip up the Moonsea Ride will take us to Ashabenford, and we can probably find a mage there to turn Tanar back into his normal self... assuming we can find a way to bring him along in the first place. What do you say?"

"Seems like a reasonable plan. Not like we had a bunch of other ideas anyway," Alexandre says.

11/8/99

"I thought we were to head to the settlement the soldiers were leading us to? Isn't that closer? I'm sure Tanar is tried of us carrying him around," the new female comments with a wink.

"Fair enough," Chubble says. "Where do you think the nearest town is? I say we head there and do what we can to get Tanar fixed. And, for that matter, Devon - unless you prefer being suddenly top-heavy!" Chubble smirks at this last comment.

"That's fine with me too. Let's get the poor guy de-stoned, the sooner the better" says Alexandre

Brugar and Asta wait until the conversation ends. "We will certainly appreciate your accompanying us with Tanar," says Brugar.

Asta adds, "Though, Chubble, I don't think Devon would be so quick to give up a gift from the Lady."

Gathering what equipment they can, as well as repairing the wagon the best that they can, the group heads northwards towards Eagle's Peak. The trip is without incident for the next three days.

Eagle's Peak is a large walled village that is also a merchant's weigh station and houses the largest barracks short of High Horn.

11/16/99

"About time we got here!" Chubble sighs happily. "We'll soon be having a hot Lunch in the comfort of a nice tavern!" He approaches the city walls and waits for a moment, expecting the city guard to come and challenge them.

"Well, I guess first things first," says Alexandre, "lets get a place to stay, then try to find someone to help our statue friend. Oh yeah � maybe Devon wants to have someone take a look at her...."

Devon looks towards the approaching guard. "Well, shall we head in and find a solution for Tanar?"

When finished with the town guard, Chubble looks at his companians and says, "I think we'd better find a place to stay. How about I go check into an inn and you two look for a mage? I'll meet you back here in a two hours."

Asta says, "Brugar and I will be taking Tanar to an elven mage I know."

Devon nods, then pauses. She then asks Asta, "I've been pondering what you said, and I'd like some explanation as to how you feel that the 'change' of mine is a gift from the lady... couldn't it be that the potion was just tainted in some way? I've heard of many a tale that was so..."

"I know a gift from the lady," Asta replies calmly. "It is something she would do."

"But why the change of gender?? I mean is this meant as a punishment?? Or a boon?" Devoness asks.

One of Asta's brows rise slightly. "I would think saving your life would be considered a boon, no matter how it was accomplished."

12/2/99

"Hmmm....I see...," drawls the woman known as Devon. "So you believe... and so must your pantheon, that my act of taking the life of that heartless assassin would be punished regardless of my reasoning and explanations in the face of the King?" Devon's fists rest on her hips. "Is this your feeling?"

Asta looks perplexed. "I think you are confused, Devon. Which is understandable given what has happened to you. But I have every faith in the wisdom of Sune Firehair."

"Maybe she just wanted to see what you looked like in a tight dress," Alexandre says, managing not to grin. "Speaking of which, you better find something else to wear - you can't keep dressing in men's clothes..."

"And Asta and I need to take care of Tanar," interjects the solemn Brugar. He offers Devon his hand. "Maybe our paths will meet again." After the short fairwells, the warrior-taylor and the priestess of Sune depart into the crowd of Eagle's Peak.

After a short time, Chubble wanders back to the street corner where he left his companians. "Okay, got us a few rooms," he says. "We can worry about the arrangements later." He looks at the others' confused expressions and adds, "Well, I figured the women would want to stay in the same room... Oh!" Chubble turns very red. "Well... uhhhh... I..." He sighs dramatically. "Anyone want to get some Lunch?" he finally asks.

TRA 12/6 : How Much?

"Lunch would be marvelous my friend. Perhaps they have some wonderful turnip stew here. That is a meal I haven't had for quite some time," Devon replies.

"Lunch seems like a plan. Well, at least this group is never boring...." replies Alexandre.

"Well, then, let's go!" Chubble leads the way to the inn where he's secured rooms for the night. "I see we're a couple of adventurers and a statue short... can I assume that Brugar and Asta took Tanar and bade their leave?"

Devon nods but says nothing more about it.

The halfling glances at Alexandre, who shakes off any questions. "Well, that's that, then. De'von, are you still gung-ho on the idea of turning yourself in to the Cormyrian authorities? I think maybe this is Lunch's way of telling us to move on to something new. I *would* like to get back to Peldan's Helm..." Chubble trails off suggestively.

A grisled old man, a trapper from looks and smell, approaches the group as they wait for their meal. "How much ye want fer yer woman?" he asks, breath reeking of garlic and beer. A pouch lands on the table with a jingle.

Subject: TRA 12/8 : Ugary

Seeing an opportunity, the blonde bombshell known as Devon holds her hand up extravagantly to her companions.

Seeing Devon's hand go up, Alexandre slowly sits back down and eases his grip on the hilt of his blade. Smiling slightly, he wonders to himself if this poor bastard has any idea what he's getting himself into.

Devon slowly stands and looks at the grizzled trapper as she circles him surveying. "You need not bother them. I decide my own price, and I tell you, from the looks of you, and the amount of cleaning I would have to perform I'm afraid you couldn't afford it." She shakes her head as she slowly stalks the man from head to toe. "Indeed, I believe the price is too much for you." Devon picks up the pouch by the drawstring and carefully shows it back to the gentleman's hand.

The miner looks puzzled, then moves away to his companion's laughter.

"Hmmph." Chubble snorts at De'von's display. "We could've lasted quite a while on that. Sounded like gold coins - at least 23 or so..." He smiles slightly to Alexandre.

Another man, this time quite dapperly dressed in the latest of fashions and smelling of the finest scents, approaches the group. "You, m'lady, look like you could use the services of a fine tailor," he says, bowing. The man barely even acknowledges Alexandre and Chubble. "Ugary at your services."

Subject: TRA 12/13 : Revealing

Devon blinks shyly, "I must admit I am not used to wearing such tattered clothing. A nice suit would be desirable for me, but I'm not sure how long I'll be needing them. I think that's really up to the 'lady'." She glances toward the rafters at the last.

"Oh, I don't know about that," says Alexandre. "I think you should go for something sheer and revealing..."

Subject: TRA 12/27 : Meager Affair

Chubble eyes Alexandre warily. "You know," he begins, "errr... well..." He shifts uncomfortably for a moment, then whispers to Alexandre, "he *was* a guy just a short time ago, you know! Ewww!"

Devon winks coyly at Alexandre. "What does one of your traveling suits run sir?" She asks the tailor.

The tailor seems very pleased he's enticed another customer. Soon, they have bargained on a price and a promice that Ugary would return the next day with the clothes and receive payment.

"C'mon, guys, I think it's about time we hit the sack and called it a day. I don't know about you, but I'm anxious to hit the road tomorrow for Mistledale!" Chubble exclaims between bites.

The next morning finds the adventurers at breakfast, a rather meager affair to Chubble's taste, but free.

Subject: TRA 12/29 : Quite Practical

Sitting back after enjoying his meal, Alexandre says, "Well - now what? I suspect that Devon would like to find someone to restore him to his natural state - even if your current incarnation is easier on the eyes - so that should probably be our first step. Chubble, you had mention Mistledale yesterday. For the life of me, I can't recall why you wanted to go there - what's there for us?"

Chubble looks up at Alexandre. "Well," he begins, "my other adventuring party - the one from whom I was separated in the Underdark - hails from Mistledale. It's the most logical place for us to meet up again. Besides, I'd like to see my parents... You'd like my mom - she's quite popular!"

Devon opens her mouth in shock at Alexandre. "I'll have you know, I think I was quite attractive!" She grins slyly, but I see where I might be more appealing to _you_ now." The bard, glib as ever continues, "I still feel the need to do something regarding my imprisonment. the more I put it off, the more quilty I look. "Perhaps I can go speak on my behalf... without risking imprisonment. One never knows when the lady will withdraw this gift..."

It is at this moment that Ugary appears with the clothes he promised for Devon. They are quite practical, and the colors work well with the female bard's own coloring. "Will there be anything else?" the tailor asks.

Subject: TRA 1/4/00 : That Bridge

"Don't flatter yourself," Alexandre retorts to Devon's comments. "It'd take several casks of wine before I crossed THAT bridge!

"As far as speaking on your own behalf in the guise of a woman - well, what happens if people find out? It would make things even worse. Let's not complicate things even more so. Mistledale seems as good a place as any for us."

"Sure!" says Chubble excitedly. "And we can even disguise ourselves - you two can be the parents and I'll be the little kid!" He ducks as Alexandre throws a roll across the table.

Subject: TRA 1/10 : Nope

"Y'know, as stupid as that sounds, it might actually work", Alexandre says, reaching for another roll but not throwing it - just yet. "Besides, it would be soooooo cuuuuuute seeing you dressed like a kid!"

"Hmmph!" Chubble snorts, wounded that his own joke was used against him.

Devon says to Ugary, "There just might be my fine tailor friend. A few things in fact." She examines her new clothes. "Can you tell us a few things about the surrounding area?"

At first, it doesn't look like the tailor understands the question. He answers, "We're on the foothills of the Storm Horns. There's lots of goblins and the like about. Not terribly safe."

"We have already discovered that. Is there a temple to Sune near here?" she continues.

Ugary shakes his head. "Nope. Not openly, at least." He gives Devon a once over. "You look like you are a follower of hers."

Devon ignores the comment and the look. "And finally, have you ever met another tailor named Brugar?" She asks.

"Nope," says the tailor, somewhat disappointed. If there will be nothing else..." Since there isn't, he departs the inn.

Chubble watches the man leave. "Interesting." He stands up, stretches, yawns, and then pats his belly. "I think that should just about do it for Lunch," he says. "I'm gonna just sleep the rest of the day, if it's the same to you. I'll see you down here in the morning at first light - it's a long way to Mistledale!"

Subject: TRA 1/14 : More Conversation

"Chubble?" De'Von asks while batting an eye. "Aren't the Dungeons of Time, on the way to MistleDale?"

The halfling shrugs. "Never heard of them. Do they worship Lunch?"

"Well, if we're hitting the road, we problably should get some supplies. I guess I can take care of that," offers Alexandre.

Subject: TRA 1/24 : The Next Morning

"The Dungeons are where King Azoun abides... in the center of Cormyr," De'Von adds. Turning she tells Alexandre, "Supplies would be helpful, and unless these get in the way," she says as she motions toward her chest, "I should still be able to use a short sword and a scabbard. Can you locate me one? And a dagger or two, for the close encounters."

"I'll see what I can do," says Alexandre. "Of course, if you'd stop flirting shamelessly with the boys, you wouldn't have to worry about fighting in close."

Chubble excuses himself until morning.

Chubble and Alexandre wait in the taproom for Devon to appear. And she does. "Still a girl, I see," says the halfling. The swashbuckler smiles as his hands play with worn leather of the shortshord scabbard between two daggers. Subject: TRA 1/28 : Horses?

"Well now Alexandre..." De'Von winks. "You shouldn't have!" She walks over all dressed up in her new garb and reaches for the presents provided by the gallant swashbuckler.

"My pleasure," replies the swashbuckler with a besmirched smile. "Sorry I couldn't match them with your dress, but I did what I could. I don't know about the rest of you, but I think we've got what we need to travel, I suggest we hit the road."

"OK," Chubble exclaims. "Let's be off! The road to Mistledale awaits!" He walks to the door, turns back, and says, "Should we get horses?"

Subject: TRA 2/4 : Lunch Provides

"Horses would be a great idea," says Alexandre. "I guess the question is can we afford them? What's everyone got to buy horses with?"

"Hmmm." De'Von frowns. "I'm not quite sure how that will feel. It certainly would be faster though. The Cormyrian guard took all my monies unfortunately, so I'm afraid I don't have an resources to get one."

Chubble thinks for a moment, then says, "Give me a few minutes to see what I can do about some horses." He runs out of the tavern, leaving a bewildered Alexandre with the perplexed Devon.

The two finish their meal while watching the door. After about thirty minutes, the halfling returns, a smug smile plastered on his face. "Lunch always provides," is all he says.

"Lunch isn't served for two more hours," says a serving girl as she picks up their breakfast plates.

Subject: TRA 2/8 : Heading North

"Not for this man," the blonde lady replies. "Well, let's go then." De'Von waits for Chubble to lead the way outside.

Chubble leads De'Von and Alexandre outside to the horses and cart. He climbs into the cart and motions the others to the other two horses. Snapping the reins to his own horse, he says, "Let's get out of here! Peldan's Helm awaits!"

"You do realize I come from a respectable family, right?" Alexandre asks, hesitating at the cart. "Not that I want to look a gift horse in the mouth - literally - but where did these come from?"

"Don't be alarmed," Chubble says soothingly. "It was perfectly legal."

"Do tell," Alexandre says, slowly mounting one of the horses. "How one manages to find three horses and carriage without any coin?"

"Sometimes we can earn through actions, not only coin." De'Von smiles at Chubble, "Isn't that true Chubble?"

Throwing his hands up in the air, Alexandre mutters, "I give. I trust you, let's just get out of here."

"Not to worry, Alexandre," Chubble repeats. "I have certain skills that are well-suited for obtaining things in time of great need. You'll just need to trust me on this matter - Lunch provides for us, and we provide Lunch."

"I hope this isn't too much different as a woman," De'Von says unsuredly. She quickly mounts the horse and whispers into its ear. The horse whinnies in reply. With a smile the bardess adds, "I never got this kind of response before."

The trio head for the north gate, where they are advised to be careful as there have been reports of orcish activity in the area. They ride out with Alexandre and De'von taking the lead and Chubble's cart following shortly behind. Across the sky float puffy white clouds, but mostly the sky is clear; as is the raod ahead.

Some few hours later, they come upon a man dressed in traveling clothes, dusty, but well mended. He is carrying a stout staff, though not for walking. A stuffed backpack sits one his back. He waves to the travelers, calling out, "Hello. Are you heading across the Storm Horns?" His dark hair is cut short, keeping out of his grey eyes. "Might I catch a ride? I am Jeoffrey, priest of Lathander."

Subject: TRA 2/15 : Jeoffrey's Tale

"A priest of Lathander?" the beautiful blonde lady on the horse says. "How could we refuse a disciple of the MorningLord? They are helpful on any journey."

The man smiles. "We like to think so."

"Well met, Jeoffrey. My name is Alexandre, these are my companions, De'Von and Chubble. You are welcome to join us. Pray tell, what is the nature of your journey?"

The man turns serious here. "I... have a calling," he says. He shakes his head. "That sounds too mysterious. But it is the closest I can come to explaining it."

"Please, climb aboard!" Chubble exclaims, making room in the cart for the priest. "Do tell us what you can?" He clucks his tongue, snaps the reins, and gets the cart moving while Jeoffrey tells his tale.

"Well," starts the priest, "I was preparing the morning meal for our abbey. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. But when I set the pot of porridge down on the table and opened the lid to put the ladle in, there was a face in the porridge. And it spoke..." He looks at his new companions to gauge their reactions.

Subject: TRA 2/22 : Moonsea Ride

"Speaking porridge?" repeats A'lexandre. "Y'know, there was a time when that would bother me. Since I left the lands of my family, I have seen and heard many a wonderous thing. Sad to say, my good priest, talking food doesn't rate to far up on the list. So, what did the voice tell you?"

"Hmmmmm..." Chubble says thoughtfully. "I've never had breakfast talk to me before. Lunch, though, has spoken to me many times, so I suppose I understand. Please, go on!"

The priest nods from his seat on the wagon. "It surprised me, to be sure."

"An interesting tale...Jeoffrey... A mystery indeed. Allow me to introduce myself. I am De'Von, De'Von Allbright, Riddle master, sleuth supreme, and master of disguises." The attractive blonde woman says from the top of her horse. She winks to the priest. "One can never know the wishes of the gods...or when one is being manipulated. In either case I believe you have come across the correct group for travel companions."

The man continues. "Well, the face said, 'Jeoffrey, your light is to be found on the Moonsea Ride..."

Chubble interjects excitedly, "Peldan's Helm is off the Moonsea Ride."

Jeoffrey smiles. "It is most fortunate we met, then. Unless this is not a chance meeting of Tymora but more the subtle hand of Lathander." He scratches at his chin.

"Please, go on," prompts De'von.

"Well, the face said I was supposed to head for the Standing Stone. That's near Myth Drannor, I was told."

Subject: Standing Stone

De'von knows the Standing Stone was a marker placed by the elves when Cormanthor was still the elven kingdom. She also knows one of the most fabled treasure troves in all the Realms still slumbers in the heart of the Elven Court woods: the overgrown city of Myth Drannor. This city is said to hold much magic, but also to be home to fearsome beasts and otherworldly monsters.

Subject: TRA 3/7 : Out Of Favor

"Myth Drannor? Not exactly the most popular place in the Realms," Alexandre says warily. "Good place to get yourself killed - are you sure your god isn't mad at you?? What business would you have in that cursed place?"

"Great," Chubble mutters, snapping the reins to the wagon. "Myth Drannor... Thank Lunch I'm stopping at Peldan's Help..."

Jeoffrey shrugs, though a smile forms on his face. "I don't think I've fallen out of favor with Lathander," he says confidently. "And I don't think I have to actually _go_ to Myth Drannor. Just someplace close to the Standing Stone." He pauses, his expression thoughtful. "Is this Peldan's Helm close to there?"

Subject: TRA 3/16 : Lame

"It's across Mistledale," Chubble says. "From Peldan's Helm it's a three or four day ride to the capital, Ashabenford. From there, it's a few more days to the Standing Stone. But you're certainly welcome to join us for as far as we go - the turnip soup at home is fabulous, and my mother is renowned for being a good hostess." For some reason, Chubble smirks when he says this last part.

"Best we keep some space between us and Myth Drannor," says Alexandre as he shifts on his horse. "I don't know much of this Standing Stone you speak of, but I wouldn't mind taking a look."

"Hopefully the standing stone of the Elves will bring this group some much needed solitude and luck, although with the looming history of Myth Drannor, perhaps not," De'Von adds with a smile.

"May I add though Jeoffrey," the beautiful blonde bard says, "that you don't need to have fallen out of favor with you god to have them put you through hell." With a raised eyebrow, she turns back around. "Let's be off then."

The Lathandite priest looks at the other two before shrugging and falling silent.

Some hours later, well before sunset, Chubble calls for a halt. "I think I may have been cheated," he grumbles. "This horse is limping." From not too far off a wolf can be heard howling. Several others join it. All of the horses shift nervously.

Subject: TRA 3/20 : Dealt With A Vampire?

"Oh no..." De'Von's voice trails off. She turns to the Lathandite priest, "Have you and your Morninglord ever dealt with a vampire?"

The priest's brows knit together. "I personally have not. But, with Lathander's assistance, I am sure we can stand against such a creature."

"Well," says Alexandre, loosening his sword in its scabbard, "sounds like we'll have company before to soon. May as well make some preparations, looks like it'll be a fight."

The howling stops, but the horses continue to fidget.

Subject: TRA 3/28 : Wolves Attack

"Sounds like the calm before the storm. I don't trust it," Alexandre says. "Hobble the horses in the middle, lets get ready for them." The swashbuckler and the priest move quickly to hobble the horses.

"I have definitely had this experience before..." Looking toward her friends De'Von whispers, "If it's a female vampire... don't let her know I used to be someone else." She grins.

"Ummmm, "Chubble begins cautiously. "You know, all I hear are wolves howling. Why do you two think that there's a, uh, vampire behind it? Is there something you need to tell me?" He begins rummaging through his backpack for a clove or two of garlic. "I know I had some here a few days ago," he mutters, then gives up. Pulling his dagger, he waits with his comrades.

De'von doesn't get to answer as the first wolf leaps over a low shrub at the bardess. It nips at her right arm, slightly puncturing her wrist. Another wolf attacks from the other side of the wagon, its target being Chubble. The halfling tumbles under the wagon and away from the snapping teeth. Both wolves snarl menacingly, teeth bared, and their eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight.

Subject: TRA 3/29 : Chilling

"Yikes!" Chubble shouts, poking his daggers at the wolf nearest him through the spokes of the wagon wheel he's hiding behind. "I could use a hand! Hey, De'Von - how about some of that magic stuff you do?!"

"Looks like we've got company!" Alexandre says, pulling out his sabre. Coming to Chubble's aid, he fights off the wolf that is threatening the halfling under the wagon. "Why are they attacking us like this?" he queries. "Must be easier prey about!" His sabre slices shallowly into the shoulder of the wolf.

De'Von turns toward the menacing wolf and sings strongly, "Sunrise, sunset, moonlit shine, daylight, twilight, rainbow's fine, Powers of the light of day, aid me with this color spray." Her fingers outstretch and a blast of rainbow colors extends from her fingertips into the eyes of the lupine creature.

To no effect. The wolf leaps at the bard, but Jeoffrey is slightly faster, knocking it aside with his morningstar. Like the wolf attacking Alexandre and Chubble, this wolf's wounds close up fairly quickly.

As a cold mist starts to surround the party, a woman's laugh can be heard. A very cold laugh.

Subject: TRA 4/3 : Who Are You?

"Blast it! De'von, sounds like your undead friend is here again!" Alexandre exclaims, swinging furiously at the wolves.

"My, my! Who might you be?" the blonde magus cries at the dark lady. "Could you help us with these wolves? They seem to be awfully hungry."

The laughter stops and the wolves stop their lunging attacks. They do continue to snarl, baring their teeth. Jeoffery and Alexandre take on defensive positions as they wait to see what happens next.

A darkly dressed female steps from the mist, her raven hair liftly slightly in the breeze. This is no ordinary woman, for her eyes glow red like the wolves'. "Who are you?" she demands from De'von angrily.

Subject: TRA 4/4 : Handsome Bard

Seeing the vampire's confusion, Alexandre waits to see if De'Von can talk her way out of this.

De'Von blinks and looks at the dark female. "My name is De'Von Trueheart. I hail from the Farsea marshes and have come across these two traveller's recently removed from their previous companions. Tragic really. They explained to me that a priestess of Sune and her companion, a tailor, succumbed to the acidic breath of a dragon." She blonde female shivers. "Is there something I can help you with? I do appreciate whatever you have done to slow the advance of these fearsome beasts." She gestures toward the wolves.

"Oh, man," says Chubble, still hiding under the wagon. He begins repeating a litany of Lunch specials in his nervousness while he waits for an opening to jump in and help De'Von with her story.

Jeoffery stands at the ready, waiting to see what his next action may have to be.

The vampire's glowing eyes narrow. "Something is amiss. I was looking for another." The look of confusion is replaced by a grim smile. "Perhaps you have heard of him. A handsome bard I have taken a liking too," she says, the words flowing over her tongue like a fine Chult poison. Her attention seems focused on Alexandre now.

The wolves continue to snarl.

Subject: TRA 4/5 : I Should Kill You Now

"Ahh yes... You mentionned him too didn't you Alexandre?" the blonde woman adds. "He was the one who became horribly disfigured by the beasts breath, plus losing his friends. Poor man... I could not imagine such a horrible experience befalling me."

"Yes, I remember him," Alexandre says, not taking his eyes off the wolves. "He was attacked by a dragon and, indeed, was horribly scarred by it's acid breath. I have not seen him for some time now. He looked nothing like what he was a month or so ago".

Chubble waits expectantly.

The vampire's frown worsens. It is downright menacing now. "I should kill you now for bringing me that message," she says with a wave of her right hand. The wolves lower their heads, baring their teeth even more.

Subject: TRA 4/6 : Reward

"I have heard tales of messengers paying for the message they bring. In the marshes it was an old custom to throw messengers into the swamp to fend against the many creatures," De'Von says calmly. "I would ask though malady, that you spare us. Would you rather we had filled you with untruths and had you search the countryside for the man you would never locate? Surely that would have been a worse message?"

Nodding his head at De'Von's words, Alexandre adds, "She is right. We've saved you a lot of time in your search. We have no quarrel with you, let us pass."

"Yeah, no offense," Chubble adds, "but I'd really rather you not kill us. I think we'd just be happy to go on our way here and be out of your hair. Sorry to have troubled you." He gingerly climbs back to the seat of the wagon and starts fiddling for the reins.

Jeoffrey still stands at the ready, not trusting this dark woman.

A curious smile forms on the vampire's mouth, and the distrustfull look in her eyes turn to one of mirth. "It is true, you have saved me from scouring the countryside for my prey," she readily admits. "And for that, I should reward you with your lives. If you leave now."

Before they can respond, the woman disappears, leaving just the two snarling wolves. A voice rings out, "You'd best hope I never find my bard, or you will wish that I had killed you." The wolves then bound off.

Subject: TRA 4/7 : An Explanation?

Chubble waits a few hours while they clear the area, then asks, "Would one of you care to explain that little episode?"

"Yes De'Von, I know some of the story, but it would be good to hear it all over again. Your 'friend' obviously has some way of finding you, sooner or later she's going to figure out what happened. What happens then?" Alexandre asks.

De'Von just smiles, "It is my guess...that we are very lucky that that fellow is no longer traveling with us..." She smiles with a glint in her eye. "Let's be off, there is much road to be travelled and there are many eyes and ears about."

Jeoffrey looks mildly disturbed. "I would not want to be this person she is looking for," he says slowly. "Let us hope she doesn't renege on her word."

Subject: TRA 4/11 : Lame Horse

"I think that as long as Devon Halfright is protected under the humor of Sune, that none of us need worry. And in fact, if you consider, traveling by night won't be nearly as frightening..." The woman smiles kindly at her companions. "Please friends, do not worry, the woman is Devon's problem... not ours."

"Aye, let's hope it stays that way", Alexandre mutters.

"Well, hopefully after talking to us she'll just stop looking," Chubble says. "Thought she did seem pretty persistent... All right, let's put it behind us. I can't wait to see Peldan's Helm again!"

Jeoffery glances at the wagon's draft horse. "I don't think we'll get too far with a lame horse," he reminds the halfling.

Subject: TRA 4/14 : Cleric?

"We might be able to ask Sune to heal it and turn it into a handsome man." De'Von says coyly. "Does anyone know anything about veterinary work?

"Don't look at me - I can put a splint on it, but that's about it," Alexandre says, looking at the horse.

"Let me handle this," Chubble says. He mutters some arcane culinary phrases and places his hands on the wounded horse's leg. "Be healed!" he shouts into the sky.

Unfortunately, nothing happens.

"Hmmph," Chubble snorts. "I must've already used up my spells for the day. Jeoffrey, you want to give this a try?"

The priest of Lythander gives the halfling a bewildered look. "I didn't know you were a cleric," he says. As he waits for the halfling's answer, he kneels down and says a short prayer. His hands glow momentarily and he touches them to the horse's leg. The animal is a bit skitterish, but stands mostly still, with Alexandre holding the reins.

Subject: TRA 4/18 : Smoldering Wagon

"Don't be too surprised, Jeoffry, we didn't know either...." Alexandre says, smiling slightly.

"Will he be able to travel now? Or should we walk along with him to settle him down?" De'Von asks.

"Naw, he'll be fine," Chubble says, producing a turnip from his pack and giving it to the startled horse. He pats the horse's nose while speaking to Jeoffrey: "I am a devout follower of Lunch... not a priest yet, but the way I figure it, when Lunch is ready to provide me magical powers, I'll be ready to serve Lunch. So every once in a while, I try to cast, just to see if I've become worthy yet. So far, nothing." He shrugs. "Could've been worse - one time I tried turning a group of zombies. That didn't work, either."

The priest of Lathander looks mildly amused. "Well, I hope your god of Lunch does grant you the powers to spread the word." He looks the Halfling up and down. "You look to be a devout follower." That said, he jumps into the back of the wagon.

Chubble's mouth opens like a fish a few times and then he smiles, snapping the reins to get the newly healed draft horse moving.

Days later, after starting the long trail though the Storm Horns, the group comes upon a smoldering wagon turned on its side. There is no sign of the wagon's owner.

Subject: TRA 4/24 : Large Claw

"Looks like this might be trouble - we'd best check it out," Alexandre says, drawing his sword. He then hops down and gingerly pokes around the wagon to see what happened.

"Looks to be fairly recent," Chubble says to no one in particular. He stops the wagon and climbs down. Pulling a dagger, he moves around to the side opposite Alexandre and searches for anything interesting.

Jeoffrey leaps down from the wagon, then circles the overturned wagon. "I'm no tracker, but I don't see any footprints. Do you think that vampire came back?" he asks, nervously fingering his holy symbol.

"No footprints, but one rather _large_ clawprint," announces Chubble from where he kneels where the horse would be if the wagon were upright.

Subject: TRA 4/28 : Half Day Away

De'Von looks down and then slowly tilts her head upward, "Umm...if I didn't know better I'd say that was a dragon's claw..."

"Great, a dragon?? Just what we need. Finally ditch the vampire now it's on to a dragon. I tell you, things sure haven't been dull with you guys...." Alexandre mutters, moving around to look for more prints.

"You know," Chubble stammers, "I think we've really seen enough here to know what happened. This didn't occur too long ago, and that critter might still be here." He looks around the area to see if there is any evidence of breath weapons being used.

Jeoffrey hopes back into the wagon. "It would be a fair bet that whoever owned that wagon is not alive." He waves to Chubble. "Let us not share his fate," says the priest.

Chubble quickly gets back into the wagon and snaps the reins. They make their way around he smoldering wreckage and then push the horses to make some distance.

Several hours later, as the sun starts to set, Chubble pulls the reins on his lathered horse. "We already had to heal him once," the halfling calls out to De'Von and Alexandre.

"I think we are still a half day away from High Horn," comments Jeoffery as he leaps out of the wagon.

Subject: TRA 5/3 : Watch

"Probably a good idea to set up watches," says Alexandre as he dismounts. "Never know if whatever it was that attacked those others might attack us."

"I'll take the middle watch," Chubble announces. "Nothing ever happens in the middle of the night," he smirks. He opens his pack and draws out his usual triple portion of rations for the post-Lunch meal.

"I care for the horses well being...but I am not confident of the environs..." De'Von says quietly. "I would suggest we have two on watch, and each group sleeps four hours. We can start again at first light. There will be time to sleep in town. I have a bad feeling about this." says the buxom songwriter.

Jeoffrey nods. "I'll watch with Chubble so we have a spellcaster in each watch," he adds.

The halfling looks a little put out that no one liked his three watch suggestion and eats his meal quietly.

De'von and Alexndre are awakened but the wildly neighing horses. Jeoffrey and Chubble are frantically looking around for what is causing the horses to behave like this. Their search is a short one as two human-headed winged lions fly into view.

Subject: TRA 5/8 : They Were Manticores

"Manticores!" shouts Devon. "Beware their spiked tails. Those missiles can be launched from a great distance. Get cover for yourselves and the horses or we shall not have mounts," De'Von announces.

Upon hearing De'Von's cry, Alexandre frantically looks for someplace to hide the horses, while keeping an eye out for the flying beasts.

Chubble looks for any cover he can find, pulling daggers from his belt while he runs. "Are you sure?!" Chubble yells to De'Von. "I've fought manticores before - they didn't have human heads! We should wait and see what they want!"

As forewarned by the bard, the first volley of spikes are flung from the winged beasts as they fly overhead, too high to reach with a hand held weapon. Two horses go down, their frantic neighs turning to strangled gurgles as the blood rushes out the wounds of their necks. Jeoffrey curses as his left hand is impaled and pinned to the neck of one of the fallen steeds.

Chubble spins on his heel and flips his dagger, its blade flashing in the moonlight as it buries itself into the rear thigh of one of the manticores. Its human-like head lets out a most lion-like roar as they fly into the darkness.

"Manticores are clumbsy flyers, so we have some time before they will be back for their next attack," says De'von as she looks at Jeoffery's hand. "That's got to hurt."

The priest nods, teeth clenched. "Alexandre... if you would." The swashbuckler turns his attentions from the sky, nods and grabs the spike, pulling it free of the dead horse and the living priest. "I hope none of you mind a little daylight," Jeoffrey says, preparing to cast a continual light spell.

Subject: TRA 5/12 : Light

Chubble continues to flip daggers at any manticores making another strafing run.

"Sounds like a plan," Alexandre says, nodding at the priest's idea. "Any good ideas as to taking these things out, De'Von?"

While they wait for the bard's answer, Jeoffrey calls forth his light.

Subject: TRA 5/19 : The Second Attack

De'Von shouts,"I can only suggest that we all take cover, perhaps behind the dead horses and fling whatever missile weapons we can at the beasts. They will not fly forever and will soon take their battle to us here on the ground. The light and other targetted magicks along with any archers we may uncover in our packs are our only hopes for now." She turns to Jeoffrey. "If you have any protective spells I suggest you cast them now."

De'Von runs over to a fallen horse and lies behind it for cover as she pulls out her new short sword.

The next pass of the manticores comes moments later. This time, however, the party is better prepared. Jeoffrey casts forth a light, blinding one of the beasts. It pulls upwards, not attacking. Chubble waits for just the right moment and flings his dagger at the other creature descends, nailing it in the chest. The manticore gurgles in pain as it lands right before Jeoffrey. Alexandre races forward, slashing the beast with his weapon before one massive paw knocks Jeoffrey down. The priest rolls backwards, just avoiding the lionlike teeth as they snap. Chubble tosses another dagger, its haft protruding from the manticore's ear. It troubles them no more.

Subject: TRA 5/25 : It's Dead

"Hold on, Jeoffrey, I'm coming!" Alexandre bellows, trying desperately to help the priest. Running forward, he swings his sword at the lion-faced creature, hoping to draw him away from the fallen priest. The swashbuckler the shakes his head as he realizes the manticore is dead.

The other manticore, the one blinded by the light, continues to fly away.

Subject: TRA 6/5 : High Horn

"Well, looks like we scared the last one off. Everyone ok?" Alexandre asks.

Jeoffrey applies the healing touch of Lythander to himself. "Much better," he answers. The others nod to communicate they are doing fine.

De'Von walks up to the dead creature and looks down upon it. "Once again humans prevail against you creatures. Perhaps one day you will learn..."

"Well, back to sleep, you two," says Chubble. "Pre-Lunch will come soon enough."

The next morning dawns misty and chilly. A quick breakfast, or pre-lunch if you will, and the party is on their way again. It takes most of the day for them to reach the fortress of High Horn. "I'll never get over how everything in Cormyr looks like a military fort," says Chubble.

De'von rides forward to the gate, which is closed. "We are travelers passing through. May we be allowed in?"

The gate opens, huge oak doors swinging freely. "Welcome to High Horn," says the gristled old soldier in not much of a welcoming tone.

Subject: TRA 6/9 : Now What?

Walking past the gate, Alexandre shakes his head in amusement. "Well, we're here. Now what???"

"Ahhhhh, yes," Chubble says, sniffing the air. "Roast joint. Ale. Bread. I think we need to go over there for a few hours," he says, pointing to the nearest inn. He looks back at the others who are simply standing and staring at him. "Aww, c'mon," he says. "It was a long trip and I'm awful tired of rations!"

Subject: TRA 6/12 : All Like This?

De'Von smiles. "I think we shouldn't waste any more time... let us get this man to his Lunch."

"For once I'm all for it. Let's eat!" exclaims Alexandre.

Chubble smiles and walks over to the nearest inn, enters and takes a seat at an empty table. "What is being served in honor of Lunch?" asks the halfling as the others join him. The room is about half full of traders and Purple Guard having their mid-day meal.

The serving woman looks a little confused, but gives a goodnatured shrug, what with Chubble being a halfling, and repsonds, "Roast pig in an apple sauce, potato mash, and mixed greens. And bread."

Chubble looks quite pleased. "Bring enough for the four of us, and some ale to wash it down with," says the halfling. He slaps down two gold lions, which the woman quickly picks up the coins and departs before any of the others can change the order.

"Thank you, Chubble," says Jeoffrey as he looks around. "You all must have been in the interior of Cormyr. Are all the towns like this?" He glances at at table of Purple Guard. "So... military?"

Subject: TRA 6/15 : Answers

"Pretty much," Chubble says. "Seems you can't go anywhere in Cormyr without tripping over a Purple Guardsman. Of course, they're good to have around in a pinch, I suppose."

The priest frowns.

"I think you'll find it a little different," Chubble adds, "when we get to Tilverton. While there's still a lot of Purple Guardsmen around around, the town itself doesn't feel so... oppresive. Makes me anxious to get home," he mutters more to himself than his new comrades.

After the waitress brings Lunch, Chubble asks, "Where can we get a cheap room for the night? We must be off early on the morrow, so something near the gates would be adequate. And perhaps you could also direct us to a shop? We have need of supplies, as well."

The woman scratches at her lower lip as she thinks about the questions. "Here's good enough. Though, if you want to be closer to the East Gate, the Hoard is okay. Machail's next door is a good provisioner, unless you need something different."

Subject: TRA 6/22 : What Do You Guys Think?

"Sounds good enough. What do you guys think?" Alexandre asks.

Subject: TRA 6/30 : Adventurers

"Here seems as good as anyplace," Chubble affirms. "Let's get our provisions and head out at first light." Chubble gets up and talks to the innkeeper about a room.

"Okay, I have a place for us to stay, and the horses and wagon are taken care of," Chubble says on his return. "Let's go on over to the provisioner and get some supplies."

"We will definitely need supplies to help the servant of Lathander here... We might wish to get a charter while we're in town. I'm sure the last one isn't valid and none of us were in the named companions anyway," De'Von smiles coyly.

"A Charter?" starts Chubble. "Oh yeah. One of those Cormyrian documents." He finishes his meal and heads for the door. "May as well get this done." With that, the four leave and head off to Machail's for rations and other equipment.

"Hmmm..." Chubble muses as they exit the provisioner's store. "Seems a bit too early to call it a day. I wonder if we can get some info about the road ahead?" He leans his head back into the provisioner's door and asks, "Hey, do you know of any caravans that recently came down the Moonsea Ride from Mistledale? We're headed that way and need to find out if there's anything up there we should be aware of."

The merchant nods. "Indeed, I have just received provisions from just such a caravan. There is talk of an early winter, so many of them are pushing hard to get through the pass. Otherwise, the Guard keep it clear of bandits and monsters."

"Ask him about procuring a Charter," prompts De'Von.

The halfling relays the question and the merchant points to the largest of the buildings in High Horn. "The Government Quarters is where all that kind of paperwork is handled." He pauses, then smiles broadly. "So, you are adventurers, eh?"

Subject: TRA 7/3 : Worth Your Interest

"I believe that would imply that we find Adventure, good sir," De'Von says tipping her head slightly to one side. "In fact, adventure finds us, and as we stand firm behind the crown, we wish to do everything by the book."

"Sheesh," Chubble mutters. "Always the dramatic one! Let's go get our Charter." He double checks the peacestrings tied onto his daggers and starts for the door just in front of Jeoffrey.

"Wait!" shouts the merchant. "My question wasn't just from idle curiosity. I am actually *looking* for some adventurers who are traveling eastwards."

"It figures," comments Alexandre under his breath.

"I can make it worth your interest," adds the merchant.

Subject: TRA 7/3 : Worth Your Interest

"I believe that would imply that we find Adventure, good sir," De'Von says tipping her head slightly to one side. "In fact, adventure finds us, and as we stand firm behind the crown, we wish to do everything by the book."

"Sheesh," Chubble mutters. "Always the dramatic one! Let's go get our Charter." He double checks the peacestrings tied onto his daggers and starts for the door just in front of Jeoffrey.

"Wait!" shouts the merchant. "My question wasn't just from idle curiosity. I am actually *looking* for some adventurers who are traveling eastwards."

"It figures," comments Alexandre under his breath.

"I can make it worth your interest," adds the merchant.

Subject: TRA 7/7 : Gain Gold

"Really?" Chubble says. "We're listening." He drags the others back into Machail's and leans against a display rack, idly munching a turnip while he listens.

The merchant looks pleased. "I'm very glad you are willing to listen to my proposition."

"First tell us what you gain by our doing this favor, and then we can begin the negotiations." De'Von says calmly.

Machail gives the bard a wry smile. "I'm a merchant. I would gain gold. As would you." He pauses and presses his palms on the table that serves as his counter. "And more, depending on how lucky you are."

"Luck isn't always on our side," says Alexandre dryly.

The merchant hmmms at this, then shrugs. "Maybe it will change." He goes and locks the door. "Just past the pass there is an old ruin of a church to Waukeen. Many adventurers have gone there in search of the treasures it possesses," he says.

"What makes you think there is anything left?" asks Jeoffrey, intrigued. Chubble nods at the question.

"Because of this," says Machail, pulling a well folded parchment from his pocket."

"A map?" asks Alexandre.

"Yes. To a secret chamber."

Jeoffrey sighs. "Again, what makes you think anything is left? Secret chambers are usually easy to find."

"Perhaps," says the dark haired man. "But even if they could find the room, they couldn't get in without this." He pulls a key from under his shirt that dangles from a chain around his neck."

Subject: TRA 7/13 : For A Pint

"You must be afraid though..." De'Von says with a charming smile. "Or else greed would have you retrieving the gold yourself?"

Machail shrugs at this. "I'm a good merchant. And I know my limits." He smiles just as charmingly. "I'm no adventurer."

Chubble eyes the key warily. "Well, I suppose I should ask... how did you come by this key? And this map?" he asks.

Machail answers simply, "I bought them."

Nodding in agreement with Chubble's and De'Von's comments, Alexandre says, "Yes, what sort of danger awaits us? I can't see anyone giving up gold for no good reason."

At this, the big merchant shrugs. "I cannot say. It would not be adventure were there no risks. But others have returned. They tell their tales in every inn for a pint."

Subject: TRA 7/18 : But How?

"Now that would be an interesting excursion..." De'Von smiles. "Sir, why don't you allow us to carry out our own little investigation and then report back tomorrow."

"Hmmph," Chubble snorts. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in checking it out. We weren't leaving until the morrow, anyway." He coaxes his fellows out of the store and back to the inn where they have rooms. "I think we should check this out - he seems like he knows what he's talking about."

"Yeah. But how?" asks Jeoffrey.

Subject: TRA 7/26 : Sweets

"If so many tales are told about this place, I can find them," De'Von replies. "I have such talents." The pretty blonde throws her air to the side and walks toward the bar.

"Well, if there's more eating involved, then I'm all for the research," Chubble says nonchalantly to Alexandre. "Let's see what she can turn up for us." Chubble produces a turnip from his pack and tosses it in the air, deftly catching it. "Ha! Did you hear that! 'Turn up for us!' I made a funny!"

"Yes," says Alexandre drolly. "You did."

The three men follow the female bard into the tavern. Like most taverns in Cormyr, it is filled with guardsmen looking to relax and have a good time. Thus, De'von's arrival garners instant attention.

"What'll you have, sweets?" asks a man wiping a mug with a stained rag. He doesn't seem to notice the others yet.

Subject: TRA 8/1 : Depends

"Hiya 'Toots'. I'll have an ale," Alexandre remarks sarcastically.

De'von smiles wondering if her tolerance is the same with this new body, "I'll have a sweet wine if you don't mind, and please take care of my friends."

"I'll have an ale, also," says Jeoffrey as he takes a seat.

"Mulled Cider," says Chubble. "Oh, and some turnips, if they are fresh. And maybe those little potatoes, mashed and fried up. With gravy." He smacks his lips. "Make a nice appetizer."

"Barkeep? Before you scurry off, I wonder if you might point me to someone who know the most about the local folklore," De'Von asks.

"Depends on what you mean, sweets," replies the tender.

Subject: TRA 8/28 : Payment

"You know... someone who can tell tales of the surrounding area... we are interested, though, in a particular story..." De'Von comments to the barkeep.

"What she said," Alexandre mutters, still a bit annoyed that he is being treated as if he doesn't exist.

The man leans down on the table, palms down. "Again... that depends."

"He want's payment," says Chubble. "Someone pay him so he can get the food here."

Subject: TRA 8/31 : Haldman

"Very well", Alexandre grumbles, fishing through his belt pouches. Plopping a gold coin on the bar, he slowly slides it over. "So, what can you tell us?"

De'Von looks down at the shiny gold coin and smiles at the man, "Well?"

Chubble's eyes dart nervously towards the kitchen entrance...

The man takes the coin and bites it. "Okay, see that old man there nursing his beer?" he says, pointing towards a lone man sitting next to one of the few windows in the bar. One would judge him to be in his late fifties, at least. "That's Haldman, a historian of sorts. A sage," says the barkeep. "If it's local lore you want, he's your man."

Subject: TRA 9/8 : Ale

"Our thanks for your kind help," Alexandre mumbles. "Now, about that ale..."

The barkeep nods and hurries off to attend to his duties. Soon, a young woman brings the party its meal and drinks.

Subject: TRA 9/11 : What You're Sellin'

De'Von accepts the drinks from the barmaid. "What is the old man drinking in the corner?" she asks pointing to Haldeman. "

Ale, Miss," responds the maid.

"Very well, can you please bring me one?" De'Von asks.

She nods and heads for the bar.

Chubble dives in with gusto and eats his fill... and the fill of two dwarves, an elf, and an (admittedly emaciated) moose. "Let's get this show on the road, woman!" he says to De'Von. "Will we stay here all evening, eating and drinking and not knowing whereupon our next quest lies?" Seeing Alexandre's questioning look, Chubble says sotto voce, "I was just trying to get that person's attention..."

De'Von offers Chubble a wry smile, then accepts the drink from the barmaid and with the wine and Haldeman's drink she nods at her companions and heads toward the old sage. De'Von struts casually up to the table with two drinks in her hands. Placing Haldeman's in front of him she says, "Greetings sir. I believe this is what you are drinking. I wondered if you might have an open chair here for me?" The man looks up with his one good eye. The left one is a mass of scar tissue. "Maybe," he says cautiously. "Depends on what you're sellin'." Jeoffrey watches De'von leave and frowns when he can't her their exchange. "You think it safe to let her alone with him?" he asks Chubble and Alexandre. --- Subject: TRA 9/12 : More Specific "Safe?" Alexandre asks. "Aye, the old man will be safe enough. De'Von won't do anything silly with this many people around..." Jeoffrey opens and then closes his mouth, smiling and returning to consuming his meal, though not with the same gusto as Chubble. He still keeps a watchful eye on De'von. De'von smiles. "I am giving freely of my ears, for what I need more than anything else, is to hear tales of the local lore. I understand that you are the resident expert in such matters, and I would stay late into the evening to hear what your experiences have to tell." The scarred man smiles, though this only makes his appearance more grisly. "And be sure I could talk late into this evening. And the next." He picks up the ale offering and sips it. "But I get the feeling you have something more specific you want to hear about..." --- Subject: TRA 9/14 : Subject Chubble practices his lip-reading skill as he sits and the other end of the bar with his comrades and worships Lunch. He relates the conversation to Jeoffrey and Alexandre. De'Von glances down toward the seat, and then takes it at a nod from the scarred man. "Your name is Haldeman I understand, and just so I do not have you at a disadvantage, my name is De'Von." She reaches her hand across the table. He takes it then repeats, "There must be something more specific you are interested in." At the man's comment, De'Von smiles, "I am interested in something specific you are correct, but I am a songwriter and performer by trade so my thirst for conversation is greater than your average traveler." "I thought you had the look of a bard," says Haldeman. "Well, as you have been warned, I could talk you into next Greengrass. Why don't you give me a subject to start with." --- Subject: TRA 9/15 : Rusted Coin De'Von smiles broadly and sips a bit of her wine. "Well sir, let us tend to business then, and perhaps you can tell me some tales you want to practice on. I am looking for some information on the church ruins just past the pass to Waukeen." The man smiles at this, which only makes his scarred visage even more gruesome. "Ah, the tale of the Rusted Coin," he says. "Rusted Coin," asks the bard. "That sounds more like a tavern than a church." She smile and takes a sip of her wine." Anything and everything you might know would be helpful as always sir. Knowledge unlocks the keys to the world you know." De'Von replies politely. "My own phrase for the place," says Haldeman. "You know, Waukeen being the Patron of merchants and it collapsing and all." He pauses, glancing around the tavern. With a shrug of his shoulders, he continues, "It was amazing how quickly that temple became a ruin. Once Waukeen disappeared, her clergy just... left. No word. Just... gone." Each pause grows longer for effect. "Now, of course, many an adventurer thinks there's unfound riches to be discovered in the ruins, but I think the priests took it all with them." He finishes his cup and sets it down closer to De'von, giving it a significant look. --- Subject: TRA 9/18 : Good Ruins Watching De'Von and the old man talk, Alexandre sighs when he sees the empty cup on the table. "This had better be worth it," he groans. Flagging a bar maid, he indicates they should bring the old man another round. De'Von smiles, "That may be true, I wish to visit the place, and if I find it different, then I shall be sure to return and update you on the Rusted Coin. Now tell me, is there anything supernatural about the location? I would imagine it to be very quiet, having been ransacked and empty for so many years." The scarred man smiles when his cup is refilled. "Supernatural? In a temple to a dead goddess?" his smile turns wry. "I have heard tales of men returning without limbs, from the traps still in place about the ruins." He takes a long draw from his ale, then wipes the foam from his lips with the back of his sleeve. "And, of course, there are tales of undead that haunt the place. Wouldn't be a good ruins if there wasn't undead." --- Subject: TRA 9/19 : Looters "I find it surprising that a place that houses such great evil could be ignored for so long. Wouldn't the Temple of Lathander have sent their priests to rid the undead from their hiding places? And haven't travelers of great strength visited the place and freed the souls trapped within?" Haldeman snorts. "All of Faerun is overrun with places of great evil. That's why adventurers are a silver a dozen." He takes another long draw of his drink. "In any case, it hasn't warranted attention from the Crown. And enough looters have traipsed through its halls to snatch up anything the priests didn't leave behind." "Will you be having anything else?" asks the serving girl to Chubble, Alexandre and Jeoffrey. --- Subject: TRA 9/26 : One Of Them "May as well have another round. This story is getting us nowhere," Alexandre remarks dryly. The server smiles and scuttles off to get them more to drink. De'von nods her head. "I see, you do have a point... If there were something that stood out more, like say a mistress of the dark, a vampire, that may gain more attention. You haven't heard any tales of these have you?" De'Von queries. Haldeman shakes his head. "Not _that_ kind of undead." He shivers visably. "I don't know a man alive who would want to face one of them." --- Subject: TRA 9/27 : Strange Combination "You've got the _man_ part of that right." De'Von replies with a wry smile. "Is there a temple of Sune nearby?" "Nay," says the man, finishing this last cup. "Not much call for the Lady of Fire here in the wilderness," he states simply. Getting the response, De'Von quickly nods and asks, "What else can you tell me about Waukeen? I know very little about that goddess." "The Dead Goddess?" He seems surprised by the question. "Not much to tell, really. A very minor being in the whole cosmic order. Except if you were a merchant. During the Time of Troubles, she just disappeared. Some say she was killed by Cyric. Others say she went into hiding. In any case, Tymora took her followers into her fold, though that's a strange combination." He chuckles dryly as if he told a joke. --- Subject: TRA 9/28 : Unlikely "Perhaps she stills lies within? Trapped by Cyric perhaps? Guarded by the many undead that walk the ruins." De'Von smiles. "Would make for a good story, no?" A look of interest passes over the scarred man's visage, then passes quickly. "A good story, yes. But an unlikely one. I can't imagine a god being entrapped in those ruins." --- Subject: TRA 10/4 : Long Tale "You cannot judge a book by it's cover... who is to say what magicks the gods or even those of the dark magicks wield. It may be that she is held in another time or place, but it's portal or entrance is there." De'Von smiles. "But you may be right... in either case I will find out or likely die trying from the tales I have heard." The man's brows knit together. "You are either very brave or very stupid." "Well, a little of both, I am sure." De'von says with a light laugh. "I suppose that is enough of that. Tell me about yourself... retired adventurer? Farmer? Or just a traveling storyteller who decided to settle down." De'Von asks. Haldeman's dark eyes settle upon his empty cup. "That, my dear, is a long tale." --- Subject: TRA 10/9 : Are They Friends Of Yours? "By the gods, this old man is going to drink us into the poor house!" Alexandre exclaims. "Dev'on's buying this round, my purse can't take much more of this!" "Oh, for Lunch's sake!" Chubble sighs. He reaches into his boot and withdraws a platimun coin. "Barkeep! Please, good sir, take this coin and keep this man in whatever swill he drinks for the remainder of the month! And you, sir," Chubble continues, shifting his eyes to Haldeman, "just finish telling the nice lady the story already! I feel myself growing older as I sit and listen!" His tirade now complete, Chubble leans back in his chair, puts his feet up on the table, balances a bowl of soup on his pauch, and begins spooning it noisily from there to his mouth, dribbling across his chest as he goes. "Good soup," he comments to the barkeep. Haldeman looks a little surprised by Chubble's outburst from across the room. "Are they friends of yours?" he asks De'von. --- Subject: TRA 10/10 : May Tymora Protect You "They are companions to be sure...apparently though they are more impatient than I." De'Von winks at Haldeman. "You have been a joy to converse with sir, I shall be sad to leave you but my compatriots are anxious. It is best that I give them some time to prepare, lest they act foolish on our journey." She holds out her hand, "I appreciate your assistance and information sir." The scarred man takes it and shakes it gently. "May Tymora protect you if you plan on searching those forsaken grounds." With his free hand, he raises the just arrived cup up in salute as he releases the bard's hand. --- Subject: TRA 10/11 : Learned Something De'Von raises her wine glass in kind and finishes her drink as Haldeman takes his. "Well met sir, if we have tales from our journey I assure you that I shall return." The bard then returns to her party. "Well, that was a waste," Alexandre grumps. "Maybe we managed to do some good here today - we kept an old drunk happy for a few hours. Other than that, we didn't seem to do much, aside from blowing what coin we did have". Jeoffery looks ready to say something, then shakes his head. However, whatever he has to say must really need to be said. "I... well, I think we learned a lot, actually." --- Subject: TRA 10/16 : What Did We Learn? "Well then, what did we learn?" Before Jeoffrey can reply, the swashbuckler turns away. "Where to next, oh companions of renown?" Alexandre asks, flamboyantly bowing to the returning De'Von. "Look," says Chubble, "how about we just get some sleep tonight and hit the road in the morning?" He scoots his chair out and, grabbing his soup bowl, begins walking up towards his room. He stops by the bar and, leaning on his tiptoes to see over it, asks the barkeep, "Hey, can you make sure to deliver a bowl of this soup every two hours to my room? Thanks very much." With that, he heads upstairs. The next morning find the group on the road leaving the fortress town. Chubble and Jeoffrey secured supplies, with an additional item or two of De'von's request. "So, do you have a plan yet?" asks the halfling of the bard once they are past the gates. --- Subject: TRA 10/24 : Sure... "Sure... we head that way... When we see the old church, we enter." De'von grins. --- Subject: TRA 11/3 : Missing Something? "Did anyone else have a better plan?" De'Von inquires. No one responds. "I thought as much," chides the bard. They continue on in silence. After about twenty minutes, Jeoffrey asks, "Am I missing something?" --- Subject: TRA 11/6 : The The Trees "What do you mean Jeoffrey? We have the directions, our supplies, and the key right?" De'von asks "Yes Jeoffrey. What are you getting at?" Alexandre asks quizically. "I'm afraid we may be missing lunch, but I can't think of anything else..." Chubble finishes for the group. "Why?" The priest smiles and shrugs. "Ever since I met you all, you've been a very demonstrative group... especially De'von. But since we left town... well, you've been awfully quiet. I was just wondering if I missed something." Alexandre pulls his horse around quickly. "There's something in those trees," he warns. --- Subject: TRA 11/13 : Uh Oh "Quickly, let's spread out and see if we can find out what it is," Alexandre whispers, the excitement evident in his voice. "Finally, something to do!" Chubble exclaims. He pulls a dagger out and creeps forward. Jeoffrey readies his weapon and his symbol. They were warned about undead. The priest is not disappointed. Lumbering through the trees are several stinking zombies, their dead eyes focused on each of the companions. Geoffrey thrusts up his symbol to Lythander and it flares with a brilliant light. Which the zombies ignore. "Uh oh," is all Jeoffrey says. --- Subject: TRA 11/16 : Not Fazed "What, do you still owe payments on that thing??" Alexandre quips. "Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way!" Drawing his sword, he prepares to do battle. "My, my... so quickly them come." De'Von smiles and brandishes her short sword. "It seems a bit heavier than the last time..." She turns to face her new foes and works next to Chubble. "Hey, Toots," Chubble mentions sidelong as he prepares to throw. "Haven't we met at this party before?" He throws the dagger at the nearest zombie and pulls another. It sinks deep into the chest of the monstrosity and causes the zombie to give pause, staring blankly at the dagger in its chest. The other zombies continue forward slowly, arms reaching for whatever live flesh they can grasp. Alexandre slices the arm off one zombie, but it doesn't faze it. De'von slips another zombie's head in two, but this also doesn't seem to affect the creature. Only when Jeoffrey crushes in the hip of his opponent does the zombie collapse. --- Subject: TRA 11/17 : Hack and Slash "I see..." De'Von says as she looks down at the dead creature. "Anyone see a stick I can use, I'm not sure this sword is doing the trick." Jeoffrey steps before the bard and smashes in the forehead of another zombie. "Take the mace from my belt," he says. Seeing the zombie close, Chubble reaches into his belt and pulls out Lucky, his magic dagger. "All right, you non-Lunch eater!" he yells. "Come on and take your best shot!" He starts poking the zombie with his dagger, all the while rolling and dodging back and forth to stay out of the monstrosity's fetid grasp. This hacking and slashing has some effect, eventually causing the zombie to topple over when his leg is hacked through. --- Subject: TRA 11/30 : More Come "We should leave," suggests Alexandre. "Press on!" De'Von Exclaims. Chubble spins around and backs up next to De'Von again. "C'mon, these guys are pansies!" he yells to Alexandre. "Just kill yours and be done with him!" Jeoffrey crushes in the head of another zombie, its decayed brains splattering the priest and the bard. More zombies crash through the trees, bringing the number to over a score, not counting the ones crumpled on the ground. --- Subject: TRA 12/4 : Escape? "No, really - let's get the blazes outta here!" Alexandre exclaims, seeing zombies coming from all sides. "Hmmph," Chubble snorts. "If you insist, we can take off. Still, any particular plans on how we should do that? Looks to me like we're pretty much surrounded!" "Pick a direction, we'll fight our way out!", Alexandre cries, seeing waves of undead coming towards them. "Or, we could just die here for no apparent reason, if you'd prefer!" "Okay, okay, that way!" Chubble says, looking back in the direction they came. "Let's head back towards town! We'll find another way to Peldan's Helm!" He takes up a position in front of Geoffrey and begins hacking his way through the beasties with his magic dagger, trying to clear a path. But for every zombie that falls, three appear to replace them. "As I said: Retreat!" De'Von exclaims. "We shall lead them to our companion who can control such creatures. Then, they will pay..." Jeoffrey pauses in his attacks just long enough to say hoarsely, "Which companion?" --- Subject: TRA 12/12 : Escape Looking confused, Alexandre adds, "Yeah, what companion??" "Hold them off for now." De'Von says to her companions. Looking upward and over the zombies in all directions, the bard cries, "These creatures do not act on their own! You who command them stop, before we must destroy them all. Obviously you have a purpose, and I, would like to know what it is. Perhaps we can find mutual benefit!" She gets clubbed in the temple by a zombie now toppling because Chubble took out its knee. "So much for that," remarks the halfling as he helps De'von keep her balance. Jeoffrey, bathed in sweat from his exertions, manages to briefly clear a path. Without prompting, the group escapes the slow moving zombies, abandoning, for the moment, the horses and wagon to the monsters. --- Subject: TRA 12/20 : Ransacked Wagon "Nice move back there, De'Von," Alexandre grunts. He looks to see if there is anyway to get the horses and wagons back. "Want to fill the rest of us in on your little ploy?" De'von remains oddly silent. Chubble stops briefly, looking back at their supplies. "Dammit!" he yells towards the sky. "I just bought all of that stuff!" He momentarily debates going in after it, then decides it's much better to run and live to Lunch again. "C'mon, you guys," he says, "let's get some distance between us and these critters!" He starts heading back towards Arabel, giving wide berth to the zombie hoard. "How do you propose doing that?" asks Jeoffrey, recovered enough to speak. His attention is on the trail and the frenzy of the zombies as they ransack the wagon. "There's no /easy/ way around that." --- Subject: TRA 12/29 : Follow? "Well, either we go around, we fight or we head back the way we came", Alexandre says, eyeing the hoard of zombies. "What do you guys think?" "Undead are usually controlled by someone, right? At least the mindless ones like skeletons, zombies, and guys like Alexandre here," Chubble quips. Noting the latter's scowl, he mutters a "just kidding" and looks embarrassed. "But seriously, why would zombies want to ransack a wagon? They have no use for our supplies, so aside from eating the horses, it doesn't make sense... unless someone else is using them to get our stuff. So, I say we follow at a safe distance and see where they go - and then smack the guy who sent them after us!" Jeoffrey frowns. "My god despises such monstrosities," he grumbles. "I hate just watching them." De'Von maintains her silence as she watches the zombie ransack the wagon. Turning quietly to the others she explains. "As Chubble said moments ago, these zombies have a purpose and they are no doubt being controlled by someone else. I was simply trying to get them to show themselves. Now let us deduce what they might be looking for... The key is the only thing I can fathom them looking for, unless we have acquired some other unique item." "They do seem pretty driven to get something out of the wagon. Strange behavior indeed," Alexandre mutters. "Perhaps you're right - let's watch and see what happens. This doesn't seem to be a random attack, there must be something behind it". The zombies literally tear the wagon apart, even breaking the spokes from the wheels. Equipment and supplies are scattered about with pieces of the wagon. After an hour of this destruction, the zombies stop and head back into the trees. "Here's our cue," says Alexandre as the party follows the zombies at a safe distance. However, the monsters aren't staying together, fanning out as they travel into the woods.

"Which one should we follow?" asks Jeoffrey.

TRA 1/2/01 : Follow The Zombie
"I don't know that it matters which one," says Alexandre. He pushes a large branch out of the way. "Hopefully they'll all come to a common point at the end. If not, we'll just kill off which ever one we are following."

"I say we follow from the end of the fan closest to our destination," suggests De'Von. "That way we are less likely to get surrounded again." She ducks under the branch held by Alexandre.

The zombies continue to fan out, giving no clear indications where they are headed. "It is almost like they are purposefully leading us away," says Jeoffrey, his disgust for the creatures clearly evident in his expression.

They follow the one zombie who stays closest to the road. The monster stops short of a clearing where two fellows are roasting a rabbit on a spit. From their speech, they have been drinking.

TRA 1/4/01 : Got Another
"Let's just watch and listen," De'Von suggests.

"I think you're right, De'Von," Alexandre whispers. "But if they get attacked, we'll have to help them out."

As the zombie lumbers towards the two, the larger of the two men turns and points a thick crystal rod at it and a beam of dull green light strikes the zombie, evaporating it. "Got another," the drunken man says to the cheers of his partner.

TRA 1/10/01 : Some Discussion
"Now this merits some discussion..." De'Von says.

"Aye, although I'm not sure I want that thing pointed at me," Alexandre mutters.

The two men continue on with their merry making.

TRA 1/16/01 : Harmless
"Do you think the wand disintegrated the creature, or do you think he was collecting them??" De'Von asks.

"I think he blasted it," replies Alexandre. "Let's hang back a bit, see if another comes by. If not, we should probably talk to these men."

"I agree with the _wait and see_ plan," De'Von replies.

"Same here," says Chubble, eyeing the two warily. He attempts to read their lips in the dim firelight so he can make out their conversation.

The two men seem more intent on drinking and laughing that having any sort of coherent conversation. In the few minutes the group observes them, the shorter of the two seated men seems to drift off to sleep while talking. The taller man, the one with the wand, laughs and stretches, yawning broadly.

"They seem pretty harmless to me," says Jeoffrey. "Unless you are a zombie," he adds with unbridled pleasure.

TRA 1/22/01 : Question And Answer
"Chubble....How quiet are you?" De'Von asks with a sly grin.

"Quiet enough," Chubble answers warily. "Why?"

TRA 1/25/01 : Thieving In The Night
Seeing De'Von's smile, Alexandre groans. "This can't be good....."

"They seem way too comfortable standing here amidst the undead..." De'Von comments. "If we sneak up and take that wand we have an upper hand. Either we have the wand and some power against the creature, or perhaps we could trade the wand back for information." De'Von smiles at her companions. "Either that, or I walk up and talk to them." She smiles.

"Hmmph," Chubble snorts. "Well, I suppose you're right. Okay, I'll sneak up and steal it." Chubble settles in for a wait while he watches the two men finally drift off to sleep.

After about an hour the other man falls asleep. Chubble waits just a while longer to make sure they appear to actually be asleep and then he sneaks forward.

Jeoffrey frowns, but says nothing. He's torn between the idea of having a deadly weapon against undead and stealing.

Chubble returns a few minutes later, wand in hand. Both men are still asleep.

TRA 2/5/01 : Annoyed?
"Nicely done, Chubble," Alexandre whispers. "Anyone have a clue how to use the thing?" Of course, no one has a clue.

"I guess you are quiet..." De'Von says. "I am impressed. The question now is... should we wait for more undead and see what they do?" De'Von chuckles, "My suggestion is that we stop in and introduce ourselves to them, and get some information now that they are without the deadly weapon."

"Don't you think they might be a little annoyed that we sto... borrowed their wand?" asks Jeoffrey. "They might have even worse items."

TRA 2/7/01 : Hey!
"Well, I didn't suggest we walk up and tell them we found the thing. I just suggested that we approach as normal living creatures and see where they hail from." De'Von smiles.

Jeoffrey nods, his expression still concerned. De'Von's charms aren't as effective on the priest.

The bard looks into the dark woods. "Our other option is to seek out some undead and try to get the wand to work."

"Well, nothing's gonna happen til sun up, at this rate," Chubble says. He turns towards the clearing and yells very loudly, "Hey! You two! Wake up!"

"Chubble!" Alexandre says through clenched teeth.

Nothing happens. At first. Then one of the men sits up slowly, stretches, belches loudly, and then lays back down.

TRA 2/13/01 : Dress Up
"Nicely done, Chubble. Next time, think you want to tell us before you do something like that!" Alexandre snaps. "May as well go kick them awake now".

"Oh, calm down," Chubble says to Alexandre. "It's not like they woke up or anything. Besides, the guy's so obviously drunk he wouldn't know up from down." Chubble looks back at the figures dozing in the clearing. "You know, we could dress De'Von up as a zombie... I think I have some white face paint in here," he adds, rummaging through his pack.

TRA 2/14/01 : Unnerving
"I'd rather be a vampyress..." De'Von grins eerily.

Grinning, Alexandre remarks, "Now that may be a good idea."

"Your facination with the undead is unnerving," says Jeoffrey.

"So," Chubble says, sitting down in the dark. "Are we just going to wait here until they wake up by themselves? I say we wake them. I might remind you that other than the armor on our backs and the weapons on our belts, we really don't have that much stuff on us... it was in the wagon, remember? I'm tired, cold, grumpy, and mostly just hungry. These guys have a fire, probably some food, and at the very least they'll provide much more stimulating conversation than those zombies back there. I can tell you that if I have to go a day without Lunch, I'll be a very unpleasant person to be with. So," Chubble adds, laying back and finding a comfortable spot tucked under a shrub, "when you three are ready to make a decision, let me know." With that, he closes his eyes and tries to get some sleep.

"The little fellow is right," states Jeoffrey. "I think we should go talk to them and give them their wand back."

TRA 2/20/01 : Come Into The Light
"Well, I do agree about going to talk to them," says Alexandre, stroking his chin, "but let's not be to hasty about giving them their wand back. I suggest we talk to them a bit and then give it back if they don't try any funny stuff."

"Fine by me," Chubble says, getting up and brushing himself off. "Let's do this, then." That said, he marches up to the edge of the clearing, clears his throat, and shouts "Hello over there! May we share your fire?"

"I'm really starting to dislike this about him," says Jeoffrey as he falls in behind Alexandre and De'Von.

"You have to admit, it gets results," comments De'Von with a laugh.

Both of the sleeping men grunt and startle awake, frantically reaching for something, probably weapons. "Who are you?" asks the man who succeeds in freeing a glowing dagger from his bedroll. "Come into the light." His words are slightly slurred.

His partner continues frantically looking for something.

TRA 3/1/01 : Zombie Hunters

"We are travellers along the road," announces Alexandre. "Our horses and wagon were attacked, now we find ourselves somewhat lost. My name is Alexandre - may I ask who you are?"

"And I'm Chubble Stubbs!" Chubble exclaims, always proud of the fact. "Hey, we had a bunch of zombies just beat the crap out of us... mind if we come sit down and discuss the surroundings like civilized people, rather than yelling across a clearing in the dead of night?!"

The one man continues looking for something, cursing in several different dialects. "Zomebies, eh?" asks the man with the dagger. "We was wondering what stirred them up." He glances at his partner. "Look for it in the morning, Zeke. They ain't zombies anyway."

The man named Zeke curses some more. "What was in your wine, Zach?" he asks the man with the dagger in an accusatory tone.

Zach smiles. "Just wine, I promise." He doesn't sound particularly sincere.

"Yeah, right," grumbles Zeke as he lays back down and pulls his blanket over his head, still muttering some curses.

Zach laughs, then makes a low bow. "Zach and Zeke, Zombie Hunters at your service," he says in way of introduction.

TRA 3/5/01 : Dig Up Something
"If you are going to look for zombies, this appears to be a good place..." De'Von comments, her posture revealing a bit more than usual. "What brings you to choose such an interesting profession?"

"Yes, how did you come to this profession... and this place?" Alexandre adds. Jeoffrey echoes his sentiments.

"Seems better than pig farming," Zach says with a self-amused laugh.

Chubble wanders in, sits by their fire, and rubs his hands together to warm up. "Thanks!" he says as the hunters nod off. He reaches into his pack for a turnip - only to discover that his pack is still gone. "Tarnation," he mutters. "I'm SO hungry! Any of you guys have some food you can share with a starving, emaciated halfling?"

Zeke uncovers his head. "You can try _his_ food, if you are foolhardy enough," he spits, then recovers his head to pretend to be sleeping.

Zach gets up and stretches. "I'm sure we can dig up something," he says, then laughs at his own joke. "Dig up something, get it."

TRA 3/15/01 : Black Arts
De'Von chuckles politely at the joke, "You certainly seem to be accomplished warriors. We ran into a whole batch of zombies a while back and barely escaped witho our lives."

Zach holds up the spit with what is left of the rabbit towards De'von. "Yeah, been good business of late," he comments.

"Aye", adds Alexandre, "we were lucky to get out alive. Lost all or our supplies, we did. How did you manage to keep them at bay? There are but two of you!"

At this, Zach smiles, waving the spit as if it were a wand. "Well, like I said, we're zombie hunters. Can't be successful if you ain't skilled."

"That's right," Chubble agrees. "And what's wrong with farming? I happened to be a farmer from way back! Well, I grew up on a farm, anyways... never really did admit to being a farmer, truth be told..." he trails off, looking sheepish - and hungry.

The remains of the rabbit is swung towards the halfling. "Nothing wrong with farming. Just not too exciting." He hands Chubble the spit, then nods towards Jeoffrey. "That one doesn't talk too much. I'd think he'd appreciate our business."

Jeoffrey clears his throat. "The Morninglord detests all undead," he says proudly. "But he doesn't condone the use of black arts to accomplish it."

Zach shrugs. "A dead zombie is a dead zombie, no matter how you accomplish it."

TRA 3/27/01 : Family Heirloom
Chubble eats until he falls into a stupor.

Alexandre looks up at the man's words and asks, "So exactly how do you do it?"

Zach only smiles knowingly, adding, "Trade secret."

De'von leans forward. "Oh, come now, you can tell us. How do you get rid of them? And...how do you make a living? Or are you independently wealthy?" De'Von winks.

The bard's obvious charms are not lost on the man. "Well, Zeke here has a wand given to him by his great-great grandfather."

A muffled voice come from under the blanket, "Sure, just tell them everything."

Zach continues, "As for making a living, people will pay to rid themselves of such menaces. It ain't a lot, but it keeps us fed."

Jeoffrey turns a frown upon the dozing Chubble.

TRA 3/30/01 : Sleepy
"Did someone hire you to get rid of all these zombies running around here?" Alexandre asks.

Zach nods. "The Crown," he says, refering to the government of Cormyr.

De'von ponders aloud, "But where are all these zombies coming from? What with the legends and all, I guess that people would stay away from here."

"I'm a might curious myself," says Zach, scratching the right side of his head. "We did some investigating, but didn't really find much in the way of rumors about necromancers or the like." He stifles a yawn, then hiccups. "You are welcome to stay here the night. Not much chance of being attacked tonight," he says, moving towards his bedroll.

TRA 3/30/01 : Sleepy (follow-up)
"Not much chance? We were attacked no more than 4 hours ago. what makes you say that?" De'Von asks a bit incredulous.

Zach rolls up in his bedroll. "Zeke's heirloom," he says sleepily, and is soon softly snoring.

TRA 4/2/01 : Moved Along
After the two zombie hunters are soundly asleep, Alexandre whispers, "I think we should give them back their wand. They seem to be unconnected with the appearance of the zombies and are actually helping to get rid of them."

"I would tend to agree... The wand isn't a threat to us and despite their strange habits, they aren't wholly evil or anything." De'Von smiles. "Perhaps though, we could ask them to accompany us? We would be helping them contribute to society."

Jeoffrey nods, his soured expression turned solely on the sleeping halfling.

Chubble snorts back to semi-consciousness. "Mmmmm... food..." he recalls wistfully, then shakes his head to clear the dream. "What? Ask them along? Well, we could, I suppose... hell, with all the zombies we saw, I'd like to have the company!"

De'von puts a finger to her lips. "Not so loud," she reminds the exhuberant halfling, nodding towards the snoring forms.

Later that night, Chubble returns stealthily the wand as soon as is appears both the others are completely asleep.

"By Lathander's Brightness!" shouts Jeoffrey, the first up so he can greet the dawn. The others are instantly awake, looking around for trouble. Not only are the two zombie hunters missing, but the surroundings are remarkably different - less mountainous and more open plains.

Chubble is the first to see the basket and rushes to it, opening it. "There's chicken," he says, handing a note to De'von as he starts eating.

The bardess smiles as she reads the parchment. "I'm sure one day you'll make good zombie hunters, but not now. Hope you don't mind that we helped you along with your travels, but there are too many zombies about to have to worry about some additional greenhorns. Zach." She pauses, then adds, "P.S. Thanks for Zeke's wand back. He would have been really cranky if he couldn't find it."

TRA 4/13/01 : Manticore & Skewer
"Well, guess that proves that you shouldn't judge people based on the first impression," Alexandre says, shaking his head ruefully. "Glad they were good sports - some folks wouldn't be to happy with us, even if we did give the wand back!"

"All right!" says Chubble. "Let's head in to town, get some horses, and get to Peldan's Helm as soon as we can!"

The city of Tyrluk is like most cities in Cormyr. Walled, a high presence of the Purple Dragons, and a generally happy populace. One look at the charter and then a comment that it should be updated to include their newest members, the group finds themselves dining at the Manticore & Skewer Inn for lunch and discussing their plans.

"You keep speaking of Peldan's Helm," says Jeoffrey to Chubble as the latter slathers rich, creamery butter on his seventh hot roll. "I've never been to the Dales, so I'm not familiar with where it is."

Ratt's Latest Adventures
Ratt, a resident of Tyrluk in western Cormyr, may have made one cat burgulary too many. Holed up in the Manticore and Skewer Inn, his attention is drawn to everyone entering the taproom. The Purple Dragons, the King's elite Guard, are known for having wizards in their ranks, so he wants to have enough time to escape.

At noon the inn is particularly busy, many more travelers than normal coming in from the cold. A group of four sit near Ratt's table is hidden in the many dark cubes the Manticore is famous for. He listens to them as he watches the door.

"You keep speaking of Peldan's Helm," says the tall priest of Lathander to a halfling man as the latter slathers rich, creamery butter on his seventh hot roll. "I've never been to the Dales, so I'm not familiar with where it is."

"Picture the most beautiful place in all of Faerun, and you're in Mistledale," the halfling recalls wistfully between bites. "It's a small realm, right on the Moonsea Ride. Peldan's Helm is a small town near the south-western edge of the dale. Mostly farmers and woodcutters - my family runs the local turnip farm!" he add proudly. "Can't wait to get back..."

"I will renew our charter," announces a very attractive woman suddenly. "I've had the most experience with such things." They must be adventurers, if they have a charter. Maybe a ticket out of Tyrluk.

"I'll go with you, De'Von. No telling what kind of trouble you might get yourself into," says the extravagantly dressed man with a grin.

"OK, then," says the halfling. "I'll go get us some more horses and another wagon. C'mon," he motions to the priest, tossing a gold lion on the table for the lunch, "you can help me. They'll be more comfortable with a priest around..." he grins.

4/23/01 : Provisions
"Picture the most beautiful place in all of Faerun, and you're in Mistledale," Chubble recalls wistfully between bites. "It's a small realm, right on the Moonsea Ride. Peldan's Helm is a small town near the south-western edge of the dale. Mostly farmers and woodcutters - my family runs the local turnip farm!" he add proudly. "Can't wait to get back..."

"I will renew our charter," announces De'von. "I've had the most experience with such things."

"I'll go with you, De'Von. No telling what kind of trouble you might get yourself into," says Alexandre with a grin.

"OK, then," says Chubble. "I'll go get us some more horses and another wagon. C'mon," he motions to the priest, tossing a gold lion on the table for the lunch, "you can help me. They'll be more comfortable with a priest around..." he grins.

"Maybe I can be some assistance in that matter, " says a lanky youth from a neighboring table. Rising the youth glances briefly at the door as he moves from his table in the shadows to join the party. "Sorry to listen in on your coversation. Its an ugly habit, but I happen to know of a few reputable merchants in the area who should be able to give you a fair value for your coin. One even owes me a favor so perhaps we can work out a deal that is better than fair."

4/25/01 : Ratt
"That's right kindly of you, stranger. Mind if I ask why you would use up a favor on some strangers?" Alexandre asks.

The youth shakes the nearly empty coin purse at his waist, "Well to be honest I seem to have overstayed my purse here in Tyrluk and was hoping you might have an opening on this charter you mentioned."

Jeoffrey's eyes narrow. "Have you a name?" he asks suspiciously.

"Most folks around here call me Ratt," says the youth quietly as he glances again toward the door.

4/30/01 : The Door

"That's right kindly of you, stranger. Mind if I ask why you would use up a favor on some strangers?" the swashbuckler asks.

The youth shakes the nearly empty coin purse at his waist, "Well to be honest I seem to have overstayed my purse here in Tyrluk and was hoping you might have an opening on this charter you mentioned."

The priest's eyes narrow. "Have you a name?" he asks suspiciously.

"Most folks around here call me Ratt," says the youth quietly as he glances again toward the door.

"Right, we'll see about that. Steer us true on this deal, and we may be able to use you," the swashbuckler says. "By the way you keep looking towards the door, I'm wondering if perhaps you used your purse up some time ago - are you beholding to someone?"

5/3/01 : Coin

"My offer be true. You'll be able to resupply yourself for much less coin if you let me guide you," states the youth, "And as for the door, well that be a personal matter I'd rather not get into at the moment."

Eyeing the swashbuckler critically Ratt adds, "I am beholden to the few I call friends, but no one is going to miss my coin should I leave town."

5/4/01 : In It For You?

The youth shakes the nearly empty coin purse at his waist, "Well to be honest I seem to have overstayed my purse here in Tyrluk and was hoping you might have an opening on this charter you mentioned."

The priest's eyes narrow. "Have you a name?" he asks suspiciously.

"Most folks around here call me Ratt," says the youth quietly as he glances again toward the door.

"Ratt, eh?" the halfling says, also looking around. "Our charter is somewhat... exclusive, you know. What kinds of skills would you bring to our group?" The halfling signals in Cant that his name is Chubble Stubbs.

"What might be in it for you? Dost though have the wanderlust friend?" the bardess inquires.

5/8/01 : Acceptance

"I judge you not, young laddie," says Alexandre with a broad smile. "I'm not exactly the most welcome man in my hometown. Very well, you have my vote, it's up to the others if you come with us or not."

"Sure, if he can pull his own weight," Chubble adds. "No use turning away a helping hand, I always say. 'Specially if that hand holds a Lunch basket."

The priest looks as if he has his doubts, but says, "I was accepted, who am I to doubt another."

"Fine," says the bardess. "Some introductions, Ratt. I am De'von, Sleuth Extraordinaire. This is Alexandre," she says, nodding to the Swashbuckler, "and Chubble Stubbs the Ever Hungry," a nod to the halfling, "and finally, Jeoffrey of the Morninglord."

De'von gives a wide sweep of her arm to the group. "This would be our adventuring company. And I need to go reregister since we've had some changes in said company."

"Come on kid," says Chubble to the much taller Ratt, "show me where we can find some decent horses and a pony."

5/8/01 : Acceptance (Additional)

"Very well! This first trader is not far from here. His prices are low because his beasts are...well...dirt ugly." Ratt looks for a reaction from the group and then adds, "But don't judge them by just their coats. He is decent man and his horses are healthy, smart, and tough. You'll not find a better animal in town outside those raised for the royal guard."

Before the group can stand a large brown rodent pokes his head out of Ratt's tunic. The rat studies the party for a moment and then makes a high chirping sound as it looks up at Ratt. "Oh I almost forgot. This fellow is Nibbles. He will be coming with me. I hope that isn't a problem."

"You stay hidden. You know the maids will freak if they see you", scolds Ratt tucking his pet back into its pocket.

Before the group splits up to complete their tasks Ratt leans over and whispers quietly to the bardess, "It might be best if you not mention my name to the authorities. I've had a run in with them recently and it could cause you problems. If you need to list you members separately please feel free to pick a name for me....any will do."

As the group approaches a crudely built corral tucked between two warehouses Ratt turns and signals in crude Cant to Cubble, "owner former thief...bad temper...no steal"

5/23/01 : Horses and Charter

"Bring us some good ones," Alexandre says. "Now, let's be off and do this chartering thing." He motions for De'Von to lead on. Jeoffrey falls in with Ratt and Chubble.

Ratt leads the trio to his suggested horse trader. And, as advertised, the horses are ugly. As is the trader. Chubble offers a hand to the smelly man. "Greetings, good sir," he begins. "My name is Chubble Stubbs and my friends here and I are in need of some horseflesh. You are reputed to have a stock of strong, able beasts to meet our needs. We'd like to make arrangements to get four horses and a pony. Can you assist us?"

"Four an' a pony, huh?" says the trader, licking his smudged thumb.

Chubble nods, smiling respectfully. "We have a long way to go," he adds. "Your mounts look like they could make the trip to Peldan's Helm and back in a day."

The trader breaks into a crooked-tooth smile. "Mistledale, huh? My wife hails from there 'bouts."

"I knew there was something I liked about you," Chubble confesses. In short order, the trio are leading five fine mounts away for remarkably good price.

De'von and Alexandre are waiting for them at the inn. "De'von seems to have a way with clerks like never before," the swashbuckler says with a teasing tone.

5/31/01 : The Duel

"If you be needing rations I know a good place for those as well, but it be best if we go at dusk," offers Ratt as the party reassembles. "The proprietor sells top of the line supplies, but he knows it and over prices his wares. If we catch him just as he's closing he'll cut us a deal because he's too lazy to haul a heavy cart all the way across town."

"Young squire, you seem to be making yourself quite useful!" Alexandre laughs, after hearing Ratt's suggestion. "Looks like it was a fortunate day when our paths crossed!"

Chubble nods over to Ratt. "Well, the waif has a lot of knowledge about the happenings in the town - and a keen eye, to be sure. But it's a dangerous road out there and we're not yet certain of his sword. "Alexandre," Chubble says, turning to the fighter, "perhaps you could practice with him a bit and assess his skills while De'Von and I run over to the shop he mentioned?"

"T'would be my pleasure to see what the lad can do," Alexandre says. Gesturing towards Ratt, he continues, "Choose your weapon, laddie, and let's go have some fun!"

"We would have to find a place from prying eyes to practice," comments Ratt. "The guards around here are not keen on people brandishing weapons even for practice."

"The whole Peacestring thing," reminds De'Von.

Ratt leads the group to an abandoned courtyard for their sparring. Once certain there are no denizens, Ratt draws a doubled-edged dagger from a hidden pocket inside his cloak. Crouching defensively the youth nods to Alexander.

Alexandre draws his sabre, offers a grand bow, then takes the en gaurde position. The point of his weapon makes neat circles as he waits for Ratt to commit himself.

Ratt dodges nimbly in and out of the reach of the longer weapon trying to score touches with his dagger.

Alexandre is very patient and awaits what opening the youth may provide.

Ratt dodges back and gestures with his free hand toward the side of the arena. Suddenly Chubble's tankard of ale flys inches in front of Alexander's face distracting him momentarily which gives Ratt a chance to slip inside the fighter's guard.

"Hey!" grouses the startled halfling.

"Nicely done!" Alexandre says, twisting to avoid the thrust. "Let's see what you can do without tankards!" With that the swashbuckler draws his Maine-Gauche along with his sabre and begins a series of two-handed attacks

"Bloody hell!" curses Ratt and he falls back under the barrage of spinning blades.

As the two combatants reach the edge of the patio Ratt falls backwards, rolls, and comes up with a handfull of dirt which he promptly flings into Alexander's face.

After getting hit with the tankard, Alexandre is expecting something like the dirt toss, which he blocks with is forearms. "Clever little lad, aren't you?" he laughs, backpeddling to avoid a counter attack as he blocks the dirt. "Do you use other weapons, or is the dagger your weapon of choice?"

"I'm a pretty good shot with a crossbow," comments Ratt as nimbly removes his cloak and attempts to bind up Alexander's weapons in the tattered cloth. "But in a hand to hand fight I'm best with my dagger."

"Well, you certainly fight sneaky!" Alexandre commends, as his arms are tied up in the cloth, much to Ratt's delight, "but so do I!", so saying, he shifts his weight suddenly and yanks the smaller man forward, striking quickly with a knee to the midsection and a headbutt to the bridge of the nose. Dropping to his back, he slides one leg between Ratt's and rolls forward, toppling the young man face forward, then continues to roll up his back until his arms are under his throat. Laughing heartily, Alexandre releases his hold and helps Ratt up. "You fight well, young squire. I'd have you watching my back anytime. Come, let's find the others and have an ale to celebrate your joining our merry team!"

"An ale sounds good. You're buying," Ratt says as he tosses Alexander's coin bag back to the suprised fighter with a smile, "Sometimes being sneaky has its advantages."

"Yeah, you can replace *my* ale, too," adds Chubble.

"Fair enough!" Alexandre laughs heartily. "Do I have to count it?" he asks, hefting his purse.

"It be all there," assures a tired Ratt, "I don't steal from friends."

Jeoffrey, glad he doesn't have to heal anyone from this testosterone display, whispers to De'Von, "You don't suppose they'll drink themselves into a stupor?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," replies the bardess as they head back to the inn.

6/8/01 : Ahead

"C'mon," Chubble says to De'Von, looking towards the setting sun. "We don't have much time before the shop closes, and we still need our stuff." The two get directions from Ratt and head off to the shop, promising to meet them inthe tavern afterwards.

Alexandre is all smiles when he, Ratt and Jeoffrey enter the inn. He waves over the nearest barmaid and orders the first round of ales. The conversation is jovial, all thoughts of vampires and other undead forgotten in the good humor of the day.

De'Von, upon arriving back in the inn decides to call it an early night. She smiles at the newfound companion of the group and retires early, even before dinner.

Chubble remains to eat, then also calls it an evening. Jeoffrey goes upstairs with the halfling.

After finishing off an ale Ratt stands, "Well I have some errands to run myself before we take off. I'll meet you back here at sunrise."

Alexandre raises his cup to the youth and nods. An hour later he is sleeping in his cup.

Ratt returns to the inn promptly at daybreak. Both his pack and purse seem to grown over the night. "Called in a few outstanding debts," comments the youth to Alexandre's bleary-eyes questioning looks.

Jeoffrey looks a little more solemn than normal. When De'Von inquires, the priest smiles off the question. "Lathander was most mysterious in this morning's prayers. I believe we have a most interesting week ahead of us."

6/15/01 : Incomplete

"A mysterious week?" Alexandre slurs, "I hope it don't start to soon. Maybe we should jes gos bak to bed..."

Chubble looks towards the gates of the city, squinting into the morning sun. "Well, no time like the present," he says, walking towards the livery where their horses are stabled. "We've got a long trip ahead of us. Let's get moving." He says over his shoulder to De'Von, "You've got our charter, right?" The bardess nods in response.

Chubble climbs atop his pony and clucks his tongue to get the beast moving. "I hate being so far above the ground," he grouses. "Wish we still had our wagon..."

Ratt pulls his hood up as he fumbles with the reins in an attempt to move his beast up near Chubble. It is hard to tell who is more nervous Ratt or the horse.

Once they pass the gates of the city, Jeoffrey picks up his discussion, his expression perplexed. "One the one hand, I am confident that The Morninglord would inform me if anything bad would happen," he says, sounding more like he is trying to convince himself. He leans forward a little on his horse. "His message seemed... incomplete."

6/18 : He Being Me

"Incomplete?" Alexandre mumbles. "Maybe you just need to go back to sleep again to get the rest of the message. Going back to sleep....sounds like a plan...."

De'Von muses, "I hope he wasn't interrupted as he sent his message."

Jeoffrey gives De'von a curious look. "He being me?" he asks.

6/19 : Change The Subject

"No, I meant Lathander..." De'Von replies.

"Oh," responds Jeoffrey, smiling in chagrin.

Ratt nervously plays with the reins on his horse as he listens quietly to the conversation. The horse ignores the random pulling on its reins and contently plods along side the other animals.

"See, this is why I worship Lunch," Chubble muses. "You never see Lunch not get its point across. Am I right? No mysteries there... and if there are, you just go to another cafe..." He trails off sheepishly at everyone's scowls.

"Discussions of the divine give me a headache," Alexandre complians. "Can't we talk about something that uses fewer brain cells?"

6/26/01 : The Charter

"Ummm...its a little late to ask this, but what are the details of this charter that I've sign on to?" asks Ratt at the request for a new subject.

7/13/01 : Bureaucracy

"Young Ratt brings up a good question - what does our charter say??" Alexandre asks, momentarily awakened from his drunken malaise.

Chubble awaits De'Von's reading of the document with much anticipation.

The bardess seems surprised by the question. "It is merely a listing of those members of our 'adventuring company.'" She laughs lightly, dark eyes seeking each of her company. "Cormytes have a passion for bureaucracy."

7/23/01 : Adventuring Party

"Ah," says Ratt who seems to be destracted by something moving around the inside of his cloak. "So, what this adventuring group plan on doing next?"

"I, for one," says Chubble, "want to get to Peldan's Helm as soon as possible. It's almost harvest time and my parents will need help pulling in the turnip crop!"

"Turnip pulling!" Ratt says with a scowl, "I guess I should have asked before had what you meant by adventuring party"

Jeoffrey laughs. "In the brief time I've been with this group, I've found they don't follow the usual adventurer's mold."

7/27/01 : Deduction

"Anything involving Chubble and food is usually an adventure," Alexandre quips, grinning for the first time in his hung-over daze. "I suppose we really should have some sort of set ideas as to what we're doing for a change, though - don't you think?"

"Well anything beyond the walls of the city is an adventure for me," comments Ratt as he shifts in his saddle trying to get comfortable.

"That is certain," De'Von pronounces... "We must head into the center of an old's god's temple, face certain death, and attempt to rid the area of untold evil and gain and gain much wealth at the same time. Are you interested?"

Jeoffrey gives the bardess a double-take. "I hadn't thought it so involved when Lathander told me we were in for an interesting week," he says slowly. "How did you come to such a deduction?"

8/16/01 : Renewal

"Doubtless it has something to do with her past," Chubble retorts. "From what I understand, De'Von has had these kinds of adventures all the time... why should now be any different?"

"Hmm...old god's temple and certain death. Just the way I like to start my mornings. Can you be a little more specific, there De'Von?" Alexandre asks.

"This is a defineately a group of extremes," comments Ratt. "From turnip picking to ancient evil. Tonight over the fire perhaps you could tell me a bit about your previous adventures."

"I don't have all that many, but an old friend of mine named Devon, now HE had some very interesting tales," De'Von relays.

Ratt turns in his saddle to look at the bardess, "Lathander. The god of protection right? 'fraid I spent most of my time avoiding priests. Can't say I know much about your order.

Jeoffrey glances at De'von, convinced she's not being entirely upfront about everything, and then answers Ratt. "Lathander is the Morninglord. Spring, Dawn, Birth, and Renewal are his portfolios. Protection is a... ah... Helm specialty, I believe."

8/28/01 : Pest?

De'Von smiles, "I have certainly had an interesting past. I am not saying anything that most of us have not heard before though. Were we not going to take our key into the old temple, through the 'supposed' undead masses and retrieve the treasure? I am actually upset that we did not ask the group with the wand to join us... Where were they going anyway?"

"They never really said," Jeoffrey offers. He glances around cautiously.

"Speaking of old tales and your friend Devon, maybe we should investigate a way to get rid of that certain pest that keeps popping up trying to make his life difficult. That may avoid problems in the future", Alexandre says to De'Von.

"Pest?" questions Ratt. Mumbling something to his cloak the youth adds, "Who's got a pest?"

9/6/01 : Tilverton

"So Chubbles, how long will it take for us to get to your parents farm?" asks Ratt during a lull in the conversation.

"From here?" Chubble responds. "Several weeks, I'd imagine - that is, if we don't have our usual sidetrips on the way."

Jeoffrey fiddles with his reins. "We pass through Tilverton, right?" he asks rhetorically. "I know a good place to eat in Tilverton."

9/21/01 : Follow

After several hours of riding Ratt turns uncomfortably in his saddle, "How long before we stop? My arse is killing me."

Chubble replies, "Oh, til dark... or until something interesting happens. Whichever comes first."

Ratt grimaces at the thought of riding all day, but remains silent.

Days pass, and the young thief's bottom toughens in the saddle. Surprisingly, they do not pass a single caravan, pilgrim, adventurer, or anyone else who frequent the free roads of Cormyr. Jeoffrey's prayers each morning solidify his belief that something very interesting was going to happen.

This particular drizzly morning seems to be the one the Lathanderite predicted. Alexandre, who was on early morning watch, nudges awake his companions. Each open their eyes to the sloftly glowing site of a elegantly dressed woman of elven blood floating a good foot above the ground, her presence lit in a soft candle-like glow. Her smile is like the chime of a thousand well-crafted bells, and her voice is ethereal. "Travelers," she says, her silver hair floating about her head, "I come asking a favor. Would you follow me to the Haunted Halls?"

9/24/01 : Aid Thee

"To what end, elven spirit?" De'Von asks.

The pulchritudinous face turns its attention on the female bard. "My people seek freedom."

"Now this is what I consider interesting!" exclaims Ratt as he stares at the elven woman. "Is there any reason you have sought us out miss. We are a pretty rag tag bunch. What skills will be required to free your people?"

The woman turns her gentle gaze upon the young man. "I have been told each of you possesses skills that will do the job."

Looking towards Ratt, Alexandre quips, "See, I told you something would pop up eventually!" Turning to the floating elf, he asks, "Who is holding you captive? And how may we aid thee?"

For the first time, the amazing glow about the woman faulters, as does her smile. But they are quickly resumed. "I cannot speak the foul creature's name for fear of announcing my sending," she says. "To aid us, you must enter the Haunted Halls."

9/26/01 : Not Of This World

"What do you guys think? This adventuring stuff is new to me. Is this how most of your adventures start?" asks Ratt as he warily watches the apparition.

"Usually," responds De'von.

"I say we check it out," continues the enthusiastic theif. "We can always turn back if it looks like its too much for us to handle," he adds.

"Can you tell us where these Halls are?" asks Alexandre. "And what we may face, even if you cannot name the creature?"

"I can lead you to the Halls," replies the glowing elf. "We are imprisioned by all manner of beasts, some not of this world."

10/1/01 : Decision Time

"By what power have you been able to escape to give us this message?" De'Von inquires.

"Elven magicks," she says, as though that says it all. Of course, it is believed the magics the elves have created over their vast lifetimes could be the strongest ever to be seen on Faerun.

"Ummmm..." Chubble says, "I've fought other-worldly critters before, and they were pretty tough. I don't know about you guys, but I don't do well in toe-to-toe fights with baddies from the Underworld! Hell, they don't even eat lunch - the blasphemers!" Chubble trails off while he looks around for something to munch on.

"To prepare for this battle," says Alexandre seriously, "can you tell us if there is anything special we would need to combat these beasts? Some creatures may only be felled by certain materials or magics - it may mean success or failure of our mission."

"I have only been told that you have the ability," the elven woman says. Her glow begins to dim slightly. "I cannot stay out here for much longer and I still have to show you the way." She turns and starts heading into the foothills.

10/3/01 : Selune Rises

"Either we go or not, we need to decide now - I suggest we follow the lady," Alexandre says, making ready to follow.

"This feels like a trap to me," comments Ratt nervously, "but we won't know for sure until we spring it." Addressing the elvish apparition Ratt adds, "Lead on."

Jeoffrey steels himself for what he expects to be a gruesome job. "Lathander will light the way," he states boldly.

The elvish woman smiles in relief. Turning, she glides off the path northward and into the scrub foothills. Her pace is quick, but not hard enough to fatigue the horses.

Selune, in all of her bright glory, rises full as the group turns east. The light from the Toril moon casts eerie shadows as the terrain turns more rocky and the trees become bent and twisted, and though bearing some incredible weight. The horses snort nervously. The only other sounds are the jangling of tack. Nary a rustle from the wind nor the call of an animal breaks the silence.

Suddenly, the elven woman disappears.

10/8/01 : What Now?

"Well, that's going to make things a little difficult," Alexandre deadpans. "Any ideas where she went?" The swashbuckler looks around the area to see what he can find.

Ratt keeps a wary lookout as Alexandre searches for clues. "Well she said that her time was limited. Her magic might have run out or she might have been caught sending us the message," suggests Ratt.

"Hopefully, it is the former," states Jeoffrey as he joins in the searching.

"Should we wait here or continue in the direction she was leading us?" asks Ratt when nothing of interest turns up.

10/10/01 : The Night

"Hmmph," Chubble snorts. "First she wakes us up from a sound sleep, then - poof! - she vanishes! Seems frightfully rude to me." He looks around into the darkness. "Still...," he trails off as he moves into the shadows of the nearby forest, "I don't suppose that she's just leave us out here in the middle of nowhere. The entrance has to be around here somewhere. Though, perhaps it's best that we wait until sun up before going in?"

De'Von paces back and forth, with her hands clasped behind her. "I suggest that the Elven spirit used just enough magic to bring us to the Halls..." She stops pacing and then looks to each member of the party, "I suggest we do not move from this place, perhaps this location hides the entrance, or perhaps our presence here will reveal an entrance. Jeoffery, perhaps the powers of Lathander can aids us in revealing the entrance."

Jeofrey sighs. "Not at the moment, no. In the morning," says the disciple of the Morninglord.

"Well we can always continue on tomorrow if nothing shows up tonight," suggests Ratt.

"Hmmm...watch out for rolling fog..." De'Von mutters.

"I agree, we may as well wait here until morning," Alexandre says as he starts to remove the saddle from his horse.

"Shouldn't we find a safe place to hole up?" questions Ratt, "I'm not sure I want to be camping at the entrance to a hall full of undead."

Jeoffrey's browns knit together. "I'm ready for undead if the vile abominations appear," he states emphatically. He holds up his symbol of Lathander as though it were a mighty sword.

Ratt gives the priest a wary look. "I volunteer first watch" says Ratt as he gathers up wood for a fire to give himself something to do. "There is no way I'm going to be able to sleep."

Pulling the remaining slice of turnip from his bags, Chubble says, "I'll watch with you. Don't think having only one person on watch is a wise idea." He takes a healthy bite of the comfort food.

Ratt pulls his crossbow out of his pack and examines each of the bolts, "Don't know how effective these will be against undead, but I'd rather do as much damage at a distance as I can. Would it help if they were blessed?"

Jeoffrey smiles. Setting down his blanket, he comes over to the young thief. "May the bright warmth of the Morninglord empower these weapons against the vile undead," he says making some obscure motions over Ratt's quiver of bolts.

Ratt sits quietly with his back to the fire staring into the darkness. After a few minutes a large brown rat climbs out of an unseen pocket and takes up position on Ratt's shoulder.

Chubble takes to pacing as the others bed down. "I know elves have this magical power that other races do not," he says to no one in particular. "But what could we do that could help her."

Ratt responds, "She seemed pretty sure we could."

The halfling smiles at the youth, who sitting is about eye-level now. "That's true. That's true," he repeats, still going over the possibilities in his head.

The watch change has only the coming of a pre-morning fog to report. Alexandre and De'Von take their posts as Chubble and Ratt bed down. Alexandre makes use of the quiet time to practice some feints and thrusts, perfecting his flashy dueling tactics. De'Von hums softly to herself, composing a song, first about the filtered moonlight reflecting off the flashing blade, and then about glowing elven apparations.

Selune is still visible, but growing pale, when the sun's light starts to filter through the thin fog. Jeoffrey does his morning prayers and then volunteers to make breakfast since he didn't do a shift on watch.

10/15/01 : TRAP
Chubble is, of course, first in line for breakfast. Piling his plate high with hotcakes, he sits and starts wolfing them down. "OK," he says between mouthfuls, "let's finish this fine repast and find that entrance." He finishes his stack and, seeing no more available at the moment, forlornly packs up his mess kit and begins scouting the local terrain, within eyesight of his companions lest he get into trouble.

Ratt follows Chubbles example and eats a large portion of the offered food. Ratt loads his gear back onto his mount, but the crossbow and bless bolts are tied on the outside of the pouches for easy access.

"Well, we seem to be stuck here again. No sign of the elf, maybe we should scout around more in the daylight to see if we can find a cave or something where they might be trapped," Alexandre says.

"So where do we start?" questions Ratt as the party mounts up.

Holding his symbol before him, Jeoffrey murmurs something softly. "I believe we should go that way," he says, indicating norteast up the hills. De'Von gives him a significant look, and the priest says, "It is a guess, not anything divinely inspired."

"Works for me," says Ratt.

Gathering their mounts, they walk part of the way, looking for any signs indicating they are heading in the right direction. It doesn't take long. Ratt's sharp eyes spot a ivy-choked pillar. Pulling the ivy aside, Alexandre reveals a marker indicating "1 LEAGUE TO TASKARON'S HALL".

De'Von quirks her brows together and then nods. "I believe this is what the Haunted Halls were once known as. Taskaron was a paladin of some note, a holy warrior of Torm."

Alexandre turns away from the pillar as the ground suddenly opens up under him. Ratt reaches out and grabs a handful of the swashbuckler's cloak, pulling him away from the pit. "That was unexpected," says Alexandre coolly. "Thank you."

Ratt shrugs. "Guess I found out what my skills are that are necessary." He turns his attention to the ground. "This will take a LONG time if I have to check our path the whole way," he says.

10/18/01 : Second Marker
De'Von smiles. "Well, perhaps that was our red carpet and we have just ignored it."

"Hopefully the road won't be as dangerous as we go forward. Well, it's only a league..." Alexandre says lightly, although he does keep a wary eye out after his close call.

"I think its best if we go single file," suggest Ratt as he moves he horse to the start of the party. Scanning the ground Ratt slowly leads the party toward the Haunted Hall.

The young thief doesn't check every square foot of the path, but he does pause often, probing and searching. They come upon another marker, but Ratt doesn't find it trapped. Chubble checks, just to make sure, and also pronouces it safe. Pulling the ivy aside, there is a marker. "Taskeron's Hall".

Everyone looks around. Except for the ivy choked trees, there is no sign of a building or any sort of man made structure, except for the marker.

10/22/01 : Discovery
"Chubble," prompts De'Von to get the halfling's attention, "perhaps now would be the time to use your talents to check out that marker? Or maybe it only opens at night?" De'Von comments.

"This could just be the outer marker for the lands associated with the original hall," suggest Ratt. "Perhaps we should check further along this path for the actual structure."

"I'm with Ratt - let's keep looking," Alexandre says.

"Give me one quick minute," says Chubble as he checks out the marker. "Nothing here," he says, disappointed.

The group moves away from the marker, eyes sharp for anything that looks out of place. Ratt stumbles upon a body in the ivy, recently dead and stripped of everything but its underclothes. It is a human male, about twenty years old. There are bruises on the temples and throat, and his eyelids are swollen shut.

10/26/01 : Knight of Torm
"These are not the wounds I would expect from an undead minion. These look more like the work of a alleyway thug. And I doubt the undead would have a use for his clothes," comments Ratt as he scans the woods for signs of ambush. He carefully turns the body over looking for more wounds.

"This is looking more and more like a trap to me," comments Ratt as he returns to his mount.

De'Von looks around and then back at the body. "I believe the trap may have already been sprung."

"You could be right De'Von - be aware, someone out there killed this unfortunate soul recently, they must be around somewhere," Alexandre says, unconsciously moving his hand to his weapon.

Jeoffrey speaks a short prayer. "That should help keep him from becoming undead," he assures the group. As he moves to his horse, he stumbles over another body, this time an old woman, also in similar state of near undress and having the same bruises. The priest frowns.

"I expect this area may be littered with bodies," Chubble observes. "It may be best to move on."

Ratt takes the lead, navigating the ivy and bodies to a third marker. Looking around the back of it, the youth finds a gruesome scene: Impaled upon a stone spike protruding from the marker is a knight of Torm, blood seeping from his wounds, staining his plate armor. His eyes are half-lidded, but moving as though to determine if the newcomers were a new threat. His longsword lies at his feet, which are suspended nearly a foot above the ground.

10/29/01 : Squirm
"Ye gods!" Alexandre exclaims, starting to take a step forward - then stopping dead. "This may be a trap - we don't want to end up impaled like him - let's be careful and avoid tripping anything!"

"Jeoffrey! We've got one alive back here," calls a startled Ratt back to the waiting party. "Don't move, help is coming," says Ratt breaking his eyes away from the stone spike to scan the surrounding woods.

"Oh, no!" Chubble exclaims. He leans over to Jeoffrey and whispers, "Is he still alive? We have to get him down from there!" Chubble pulls 'Lucky' out of its sheath and listens intently to the sounds of the forest, trying to get a handle on what dangers may exist in the trees.

"I do not know, but I intend to find out," Jeoffrey states purposefully. He dismounts and makes his way to the marker. Reaching out carefully, he takes the knight's wrist. "Alive," he says in a hoarse whisper. "But barely." He turns to the others. "Will you assist me in removing him. I think I might be able to staunch most of the bleeding, but he might... squirm... when we move him.

11/5/01 : Removing The Knight
"Let me check him out quit before we move him. He might be bobbytrapped," offers Ratt moving forward to examine the knight. His fingers deftly probe the pillar the knight is impaled against. "All clear," Ratt announces in a loud whisper as he signals for the other to move forward.

"I don't think I'm tall enough to help you," says Chubble, "but I'll keep an eye out for trouble." He steps a few yards away from the group and listens intently to the sounds of the forest.

"I'll give you a hand," says Alexandre. "Be prepared to stop the bleeding once we slide him off. He's got a big hole in his chest right now, once we take him off that spike he'll bleed like a stuck pig."

"I'm well aware of that," grunts Jeofrey as he places his hands around the knight's left shoulder. Alexandre takes the right and on a silent count of three, the two pull the knight free of the stone spike. Quickly, Jeoffrey calls upon his healing powers.

"It looks like someone wanted to scare people away," comments Ratt, "And I for one think its working. This place gives me the creeps."

Ratt moves over to watch Jeoffrey tend the mans wounds, "Any chance he is going to be able to tell us anything about who did this to him?"

"I dunno," whispers the priest as he works quickly to staunch the bleeding. "Not good."

Suddenly the knight reaches up and grabs Jeoffrey's hair, pulling him down to his mouth. He manages a few inaudible words before convulsing and moving no more. Jeoffrey lets out a deep sigh and closes the man's eyes with his hand.

"What did he say?" asks De'Von from where she was watching from out of the way.

"Myth Drannor," replies the priest dully as he rises slowly from his knees.

11/8/01 : Lured
"That name don't sound familar to me," comments Ratt as he examines the area where the knight was hanging. "Any of you know who or what that is?" he asks as he turns over some pumpkin-sized stones.

"I'm not sure you want to know Ratt..." De'Von says quietly.

"Myth Dranor," Alexandre murmurs shaking his head slowly. "Not that gods cursed place!" Hearing Rat's question, he shakes his head again, "It is a place of ghosts and demons. Only the fool hardy treasure hunters, or arrogant mages looking for magical items dare to tread that foul ground. None ever return." There is a serious finality to the swashbuckler's statement.

"And this is where our elvish guide want us to go?" asks Ratt incredulously through the scowl on his face. "Or did we just stumble across a bunch of unskilled treasure hunters."

"Myth Drannor is closer to where Chubble hails from," says Jeoffrey as he places the knight's hands on his chest.

"Jeoffrey, any clues left on the knight's body?" asks Ratt, sounding relieved the infamous place isn't close at all.

The priest shakes his head. "Whatever personal effects he had are not here."

Examing the knights body Ratt continues with his questions, "What does this place have to do with our knight friend here? Was he another chosen rescuer lured here by elvish magic? The farther we go on this trip the more questions we have."

11/8/01 : Moving On
"Aye, the more questions, and still no answers," murmurs Alexandre in response. "Do we continue on, or leave now? Until I know for sure that elf wasn't luring us to Myth Dranor, I think we should continue."

No one gainsays the logic, so they move further along the path, Ratt resuming the lead ever so cautiously. The path narrows as it becomes choked by the piled on ivy. The young thief lets out a yelp as decaying hands reach out of the ivy to grab at him.

11/26/01 : Retreat!
De'Von draws her sword and looks for other claws saying, "Myth Drannor I presume..."

Ratt jumps away from the hands and draws his dagger. "A little help here!" shouts the thief as he retreats back to the party.

Chubble pulls out Lucky and gribs it tightly in his right hand. Crouching down in the scrub, he begins fumbling through his pack with his left hand for a vial of holy water.

Jeoffrey shouts, "There are too many. Alexandre, grab Ratt and let us retreat!" He starts backing out of the ivy choked alley.

Alexandre leaps forward, slicing off the hand that grasps Ratt's elbow, and then tugs the thief back with him. Everyone backs up, waving weapons threateningly, until they find a spot where the decaying hands aren't reaching through the ivy.

"Thanks," says Ratt to the swashbuckler.

Alexandre gives the thief a smile and a nod.

"I think it would be suicidal to try to fight our way through that," says Jeoffrey through clenched teeth. It is clear the Lathandite is having problems with the idea of running from undead.

11/28/01 : What About Fire?
"Aye, suicidal it would be," murmurs Alexandre. He turns his gaze on Jeoffrey. "Rest assured, priest, you'll have your chance to deal with those foul undead creatures." He glances back towards the ivy, the decaying hands withdrawing into the tanged vines. "Just not today. We wouldn't win, and we'd end up like them. Now, we need to plan how we can take out such a large number of undead. Do you have any ideas?"

De'Von looks to her Lathanderian friend, "Can't you call for a little sunlight from your upstairs friend? I can't imagine these things like pure sunlight..."

Jeoffrey sighs. "I fear such power is beyond my skill, at the moment."

"Undead are not easily fooled by stealth," comments Ratt as the group brainstorms on ideas, "and my magic isn't going to be any use either." He squats down and fiddles with his boot. "How about fire?" suggest the thief.

"I agree with Ratt," says Chubble. "Let's burn them out." He begins rummaging through his backpack for a few vials of oil. "Sure hope the woods don't catch, too, or we go up in smoke with them!"

Jeoffrey reaches into his pack and produces five metal flasks. "I have these," he says, offering them to Chubble. "And a half-score of holy water."

12/4/01 : The Trap
Ratt digs around in his pack and pulls out three small flasks of lantern oil. Handing the oil to Jeoffrey the thief adds, "My lantern is also full of oil should we need it." Ratt then moves to the back of the party where he loads a blessed bolt into his crossbow.

"Before we start a big fire, let's just make sure we don't get stuck in it," Alexandre suggests. "Maybe we should make sure we have some water or something available in case the fire is turned by the wind - or something!"

"And aren't horses normally a bit skittish around fire?" adds Ratt. "Perhaps we should back them off a bit as well."

"I'll watch them," says Chubble as he collects up the reins.

"We will need a guinea pig... to get them in the same area... blast them with the fiery oil. Then I will follow with a bit of fiery augmentation magic." De'Von smiles. "You don't think I am just a pretty blonde do you?"

Alexandre smirks. "Somehow, I don't think that matters to undead. Jeoffrey nods in agreement.

Ratt frowns at the thought of all those dead hands grabbing at him again, but reluctantly volunteers to act as bait. "Tie a rope to me so you can pull me out just in case I get into trouble." He glances at the bard. "I think I'm a little quicker than you," he offers.

Alexandre ties a line to Ratt and they all prepare their oils. Jeoffrey fingers his symbol nervously, having never faced so many undead at one time. The young thief sneaks forward, not to be silent, but to be prepared to spring back. He reaches the spot where he was attacked, but nothing happens. He glances back at the others. "What now?"

"Keep moving," suggests Alexandre as he feeds out more rope.

Sighing, Ratt keeps inching forward, waiting for the trap to spring. Ten feet later, it does, but in an unexpected place. The ground gives way underneath the ivy and Ratt. But the thief jumps back even before the swashbuckler can pull him back. P>12/6/01 : Ring
"Wow! He's quick." De'Von comments to Jeoffrey. "Perhaps the hands were part one of the trap and this is part two. I wonder how bad part three will be..." she pauses and then looks forward to Ratt. "What do you see down there besides darkness?"

"Nicely done, Ratt. Pays to be light on your feet!" Alexandre says approvingly. "Can you see the bottom? Is this a pit trap of some sort, or is there anything interesting down there?"

Ratt glances nervously around before edging closer to the hole. "Its dark. Give me a minute to get my lantern lit," shouts back the thief. Quickly lighting his lantern Ratt lowers the light on a thin rope down the hole.

The pit is deeper than the previous traps, maybe thirty feet. The remains of a few small animals litter the rough floor. As he pulls up the lantern, he catches a glimpse of reflection. There is a ring set in the wall, rusty except for a well-worn spot on the bottom. He reports this to his companions. P>12/11/01 : Darkness
"Looks like someone has been through here lately," comments the thief as he lowers the lantern back into the hole. "That ring has been used probably to lower or raise things out of this hole."

Scanning the bottom of the pit again Ratt looks for possible doors or passages.

"How big is the ring?", Alexandre asks.

"About the span of my fingers spread," answers Ratt.

"It may be how they climb down," offers De'Von.

Ratt uncoils a length of rope. "Probably," he says as he reaches in to thread the rope through the ring. He hands one end to Alexandre and ties a harness on the other. Slipping into it, he says, "Lower me slowly." He puts his dagger in his teeth and then slips into the hole. The swashbuckler does as requested, slowly feeding out the rope.

Ratt keeps an eye out for trouble, but there is none. The ground is soft, earthy, but secure. He moves around the wall, carefully searching for some catch or door. He is rewarded when he presses in a rock and part of the wall swings away revealing a roughly hewn hallway about eight feet high and five feet wide. It disappears into the darkness.

12/20/01 : T Intersection
"I found a door" announces Ratt in a harsh whisper. Standing guard with knife in hand, Ratt waits for the others to make their way to the bottom of the well.

"You would think the elf could have provided a little more direction. Fortunately we have Ratt." De'Von grins at the thief.

"Well, I guess we know what our next step is," Alexandre says, looking at the door through the hole. "I suggest we tie a rope up here so we can get out if needed, and go play explorer!"

Chubble takes the end of the rope and secures it to a sturdy nearby tree. He then shimmies down to stand next to Ratt.

"Shall we go? Can Lathander light the way for us?" De'Von asks.

"If the lantern is not enough, yes," replies Jeoffrey as he slides down the rope. Alexandre and De'Von soon follow.

"I'll scout ahead." Ratt hands his lantern to Chubble before taking off down the dark passage. The thief stays just at the edge of the light provided by the lantern as he scouts. He stops at a "T" intersection. To the left the faint sound of running water can be made out as the passage disappears beyond their light. To the right the passage goes about twenty feet and ends.

12/26/01 : Voice Fades Out
"Up to you Ratt. If you are thirsty, I suggest going left." De'Von smiles wryly.

"Not much sense to go to the trouble of digging a tunnel like this and have it dead end," Alexandre says, leaning against the rough hewn wall of the passage. "Let's take a closer look down that tunnel - there may be a secret door of some sort."

Ratt nods in agreement and creeps cautiously down the passage toward the dead-end. Moments later, he returns. "I'll need light to search for any secret doors." Chubble volunteers to be the light bearer for the young thief. "Remain here until I see if the corridor is trapped," he advises the others.

The two return to the dead-end. Chubble stands about ten feet away, mumbling something about the next meal as Ratt runs his fingers over the low bumps of the wall. Without warning, the floor underneath Chubble gives way and he falls leaving everyone in the dark. His voice fades out in a heartbeat.

12/31/01 : Bottomless?
"Hellfire!" shouts Ratt down the tunnel. "Bring rope and light quickly!"

"Damn! Let's move, people!" Alexandre snaps, grabbing rope and a lantern and heading towards Ratt to assist.

With a final flick of his hands Ratt tosses what appears to be a live spider into his mouth. Grimacing as he swallows the thief jumps down onto the wall of the pit. "Lower the lantern down so I can see", asks Ratt as he quickly descends down the pit wall.

Jeoffrey shudders when he sees Ratt eat the spider. He puts down his revulsion long enough to ask, "Do you see him?"

Ratt watches as the lantern drops slowly. The pit tapers out to widen to about fifteen feet square. Alexandre comes to the end of his fifty-foot rope and the bottom is not in site. "Nothing. The pit continues on," he says.

"I've some rope," offers Jeoffrey, fishing it out quickly of his backpack.

No one wants to say the obvious: that the halfling isn't likely to survive a fall of fifty feet or more.

1/3/02 : More Rope?
Sighing heavily, Alexandre says, "He may not have survived the fall. We owe it to our comrade to at least try to find his body. If we have any more rope, please bring it." He ties on Jeoffrey's length of rope, adding another 100' to the total.

Ratt continues to scurry down the wall as the light descends looking for signs of Chubble. They group above can barely hear him as he discovers the pit just keeps going down.

De'Von shrugs as Alexandre looks at her. "I've no rope. Haven't had a chance, nor a reason to buy any."

1/8/02 : Wonder
Ratt fishes a copper coin out from his pouch and drops it into the darkness. The thief holds his breath as he strains to hear the coin hit bottom or for signs of life from Chubble.

Sighing quietly to himself, Ratt scrambles up the wall before his enhanced climbing ability gives out. Reaching the others Ratt shakes his head sadly before resuming his search of the dead end.

"Hmm...but I wonder..." says De'Von as she looks toward the ceiling in thought.

Jeoffrey gives the bardess an enquiring look, his dark eyes even darker with sadness. "Wonder what?"

1/15/02 : Water Next
"Yes, De'Von, what are you wondering? Anything that may have saved Chubble?" Alexandre asks. The bardess gives a slight shrug.

"Watch your step," warns Ratt as he probes at a small crack in the wall with his dagger, "That pit may not have been the only trap."

"How far did you go down do you figure Ratt?" De'von asks.

"I went until the light gave out about thirty feet past the end of the rope," replies Ratt as he looks up from his search. "Perhaps 180 feet total. I dropped a coin, but didn't hear it hit bottom."

A few minutes later he resheathes his dagger. "Well either there was nothing here or it's too well hidden for me to find," says Ratt in frustration. "I guess we go investigate the water next."

1/30/02 : Waterfall Cavern
Nodding sadly, Alexandre follows Ratt away.

Ratt cautiously leads the remaining party members through the intersection and toward the sound of water.

Coaxing Nibbles out of his hiding place to help, Ratt scans the floor as the party proceeds making sure that the way is clear of traps.

A hundred feet further brings them to the source of the water: an underground waterfall, some 15' in height, falls to a small pool. There is no apparent outlet. There is a waterwheel the waterfall flows through, slowly turning. Its axle disappears into the cavern wall. The cavern itself is about forty feet in diameter and doesn't have any exits.

2/5/02 : Reveal A Secret
"Looks like the wheel is the only thing worth looking at. Let's go check it out," suggest Alexandre.

De'Von, still musing about the recent events with Chubble, moves over and beings to examine the waterwheel.

Ratt cautiously approaches the waterfall keeping an eye out for traps and lookouts. Climbing up the structure supporting the waterwheel, Ratt examines the axle opening and tries to get a glimpse of source of the water.

The young thief gets a mouthful of the silty water as it splashes off the wheel. "Looks like a natural stream," he comments, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Good construction. Probably been here a long time."

De'von's probings are rewarded by a section of the stone wall under the axle pushing back to reveal a secret worked-stone stairway down. The smell of burning rubber and the clacking of gears can be heard. As can the grunts of several beings.

2/11/02 : Squeaking Gears
De'von steps back. "Look what I found."

"Looks like I'm up again," says Ratt. "I'll sneak down and see what's making those noises," suggests Ratt in a barely audible whisper.

When no one protests, the thief adds, "Be ready. If I'm seen I'll run back up here most likely with company hot on my tail."

Nodding at Ratt's words, Alexandre stands by with his rapier at the ready.

Pulling up the hood of his cloak, Ratt nods to the party and then descends into the shadows. There are sparsely spaced torches shoved into holes in the tunnel wall, some long burned out. The stairs are uneven, but not treacherous. Ratt silently slips down to where he can see a complex gear system, each wooden gear larger than a man, working noisily. Some half dozen orcs are carrying large buckets of grease and slapping it on the axles of each gear with a trowel. Much of it gets splattered on the floor and on the orcs. Beyond the gears are two wooded doors, closed and grease-splattered.

2/13/02 : Resourceful
Ratt watches the orcs for a minute trying to see if there is someone in charge before he slips back up the stairs.

"Six or seven orcs working on some sort of large machine," reports the thief, "They are slopping some sort of grease into the gears as well as onto themselves and the floor. I couldn't see what the machine was doing, but there were two other exits out of the room past the machinery."

"Hmmm. "De'Von muses with an oddly familiar stance. "I wonder what they are trying to gain through this mechanism. Perhaps they are using the flowing water to assist in some digging or mining effort? At least they are using their own labors instead of slaves."

"Maybe not," counters Ratt, "That elven spirit led us in this direction. The orcs may be holding her people here."

"Any chance we can get past them without a fight?" Alexandre asks.

"Not likely," responds Ratt. "I might be able to make it by myself, but all three of us would be impossible." The thief glances back down the stairway. "Never heard of orc's being so resourceful. I wonder who's in charge around here."

2/21/02 : Options
"We might be able to overpower them, " suggests Ratt, "but I doubt that those six are the only orcs down here."

"Any markings or uniforms on the orcs? I'm just trying to think if we can bluff our way past them by making ourselves out to be the ones in charge down there. Any ideas?" Alexandre asks.

"I didn't see anything like that," answers Ratt with a shrug, "but such things could be hidden under a layer of grease."

As the party weighs options Ratt keeps an ear tuned to the stairs. "I hate to do it this way, but I might be able to take out a few of the workers without alerting anyone," offers Ratt.

2/25/02 : Spiders And Fire
"Perhaps there might be a magical option," De'Von suggests. "We may want to remember that they will need to change shifts or break at some point..." De'Von adds thoughtfully. "Perhaps we could simply wait and get them at a weaker point.

"Well if I drain most of my magic I might be able to give all three of us the ability to climb on the walls," ponders Ratt and he searches the ground, "But I'd need as least one more live spider."

Alexandre wrinkles his nose at the thought of anything involving spiders. "Any chance we can split them up somehow?" he offers, to change the subject. "If Ratt can dispose of a couple, we may be able to lure the others to an ambush. Or, just rush the remaining orcs."

"Do you think that grease is flammable?" De'Von inquires. "Although, the element of surprise for the rest of the place would be out of the question."

"I think it would burn, but I'm not sure what it would take to get such a fire going. We could try throwing a torch into one of the gears" comments Ratt, giving up on finding a spider in this place. "If anything else it would get their attention."

3/4/02 : Easier Than Expected
"Why don't we all get a very good hiding place...set off a loud noisemaker of sorts and watch them. See if we can learn anything about their habits, and maybe Ratt can sneak past them in the confusion?" De'Von suggests.

"I like the idea of trying to lure them out a few at a time, especially if Ratt can take one or two of them out ahead of time," Alexandre says, searching for good ambush spots.

"I'll send Nibbles back if I get in trouble," comments Ratt as he draws his dagger. "Give me a second to prepare."

Ratt closes his eyes and concentrates. A moment later a greasy orc wielding a brush stands in place of the young thief. "Don't be swinging at me by mistake," requests the orc in Ratt's voice. With a smile the orc-Ratt sneaks down the stairs.

De'von grins at her fellow travelers, "Do you think he can turn me into a man with that spell?" With a wink she adds, "We might want to hide ourselves."

An orc returns, smiling a tusky smile. "That was easier than expected," he says in Ratt's voice?" The orc waves the hiding comrades down the stairs. Cautiously, they follow. Six dead orcs lay at the base of the stairs.

"Impressive," murmurs Jeoffrey, though he is clearly revolted at the efficiency of the kill.

3/8/02 : Beyond The Doors
"Ok, I'll bite - how did you do that!?!" Alexandre asks.

De'Von smiles meekly at the assassin in their midst. "I trust that you have not completely finished them off. Assassins and I haven't gotten along very well in my history with them."

"The illusion worked well and I got lucky," responds Ratt apparently a little shaken by his success. "They didn't even notice as I picked them off one at a time."

"Should we do anything to hide those?" asks Ratt, pointing to the pile of bodies.

Jeoffrey checks on the orcs. "You did well, Ratt," he says grimly. "These poor souls have probably been dead for a few days. There is a hint of a snarl in his voice.

Ratt glances at the grinding gears, "I, ah, think we should get moving. I don't know how long this thing is going to keep working now that it is no longer being greased."

He checks on the doors. "This one is hot," he says of the right door. "This one isn't."

"Do you hear anything?" asks Alexandre.

Ratt grimaces. "I'd rather not put my ear to that grease."

"The hot door is probably the furnace," suggests Jeoffrey, clutching his holy symbol a little tighter. "Who knows what manner of creatures we would find there. I'd check the other door."

Ratt carefully opens the left door, peaking through the crack. "It is a corridor angling off to the left." He grabs a torch. "It ends in a door after about twenty feet."

"Lead on," says Alexandre with a grin.

The next door is similar to the last, except that the grease is only on the handle. As Ratt puts his ear to the door, it suddenly opens revealing a very startled ogre with a great big hammer.

3/11/02 : A Moments Pause
Jeoffrey hears De'Von clears her throat just before a gruff voice chuckling behind the ogre, "Don't mind them...the boss sent for them."

The ogre pauses a heartbeat then raises his hammer threateningly.

"What kind of slip-shod shop are you running, ogre? There is no security here! Heads are going to roll on this one! Don't just stand there looking like an idiot, take us to the overseer so we can straighten this mess out!" Alexandre bellows with as much contempt as he can.

Again, the ogre gives pause. Ratt unsure of what to do stands in shock for a moment while De'Von and Alexander try their ruse. For whatever reason, the ogre decides to do what ogres do best: smash things. The hammer comes down where Ratt was standing. Fortunately, the nimble thief dances out of the way. The ogre raises the hammer again.

3/14/02 : A Battle Engaged
"That never works," Alexandre sighs before wading in with his sword, doing his best to disembowel the wretched creature. "Thought we had the brute for half a second there..."

Ratt makes a slashing attack at the ogre's exposed stomach as he steps through the door and into flanking position. "A little help here!" shouts Ratt as he prepares to dodge another hammer blow.

"Ahem," De'Von comments quietly to Jeoffrey. "Whatever spell you are going to cast, can you do it bent over?"

"I can do better than that," replies Jeoffrey, stepping behind De'von. The bardess nimbly wield two daggers and prepares to loose them at the ogre, fortunately they are tall. At an appropriate moment, De'Von sends two daggers, glinting in the torchlight at the ogre.

Alexandre's sword cuts the hairy knuckles of the right hand of the ogre. De'von's twin daggers bounce off chest and forehead, the latter dagger almost landing on Ratt's foot. The thief is having little effect on the sturdy backside of the ogre. The ogre brings its hammer down in a glancing, yet numbing, blow on Alexandre's left arm. As the monster is bent over Ratt leaps upon its back, gabbing a handful of the straggly hair and jabbing his blade into the back of the ogre's head.

Jeoffrey summons a glowing hammer that strikes the ogre in the face, crushing its nose. Ratt is almost thrown off from the blow. The ogre reaches back to grasp the thief, allowing Alexandre an opening to thrust his weapon into the creature's belly. It stumbles back, jerking the sword from Alexandre's hand. Bellowing in pain, the ogre jumps around, trying to dislodge Ratt from its neck.

3/18/02 : Who Has The Upper Hand?
Ratt desperately tries to keep his grip on the ogre with his left hand as he pulls the dagger free and stabs at the beast again. The blade slices skin but does not break through the very thick skull.

"Jeoffrey, please remind me to sharpen these when we are through here," De'Von comments drolly as she grabs two more daggers and looses them at their foe. The first bounces off the beast's arm the second lodges itself below the left collarbone.

Alexandre ducks the next hammer blow and hacks at the ogre's knee. The ogre howls in pain and backhands the swashbuckler across the cheek, sending him reeling. The motion causes Ratt to lose his grip and tumble off the ogre's back. He manages to come to his feet in a defensive stance.

Jeoffrey concentrates on his spiritual hammer, bringing it down on the skull of the ogre. Still, it fights on.

"Is there any way we can keep from attracting further attention?" De'Von asks her companions.

3/22/02 : Stubborn Will
De'Von looks up at the monster and slowly draws her short sword saying, "I give you this last opportunity to lay down your arms. HE shall be greatly disturbed that we were forced to dispatch one of his guards, and this weapon has slain one too many of _your_ kind already." De'Von nimbly avoids the ogre's attacked with her magical protection and dexterity, but only just barely.

Hoping to make the beast pay for ignoring him Ratt steps forward and swings at the vulnerable tendons on the back of the ogre's legs. But it is like trying to cut metal cord. His blade is useless.

Alexandre staggers back into Jeoffrey, who helps support the dazed swashbuckler. The priest then directs his magical hammer to strike at the monster. The ogre ignores the blow as it aims its own at De'Von. She again sidesteps the blow and wields her own short sword expertly and stabs at the beast's midsection. The ogre snarls in pain, and kicks the bardess in the stomach, sending her flying into Alexandre and Jeoffrey. All tumble into a heap.

Ratt changes tactics and grabs his weapon with both hands, jumping up to drive the blade into the spine of the ogre before it can reach his comrades. This succeeds as the monster stumbles and falls mere inches from the others. Before anyone can react, the young thief leaps up on the ogre's back, lifts his head, and slits its throat. "I hope," says Ratt panting heavily, "that this execution doesn't disturb you too much." He falls to a sitting position.

3/26/02 : Undead?
"Ratt, check to make sure there is no one else coming...and then I have a question before we proceed," De'Von says quickly taking command. "Alexandre could you please check the ogre's person for keys, potions, and such. Jeoffrey, check Alexandre for wounds."

Once Alexandre regains his wits, he nods at Ratt and says, "Well done - we were in a pickle there. No time for following rules of combat." He waits for Jeoffrey to tend to his wounds and then starts picking through the ogre's pockets.

Ratt returns from his quick scout of the nearby area. Grabbing a stone from his pocket the thief checks the edge of his dagger as he listens to De'Von.

De'Von address Ratt and Jeoffrey, "I believe I missed something significant back there. Were all of those orcs undead? Were there no live ones in their midst?"

"Undead?" replies Ratt with a shiver. "I guess they could be. Never met myself anything undead before. Might explain a few things." Looking down at the ogre's body the thief adds, "Could this beast be undead as well. He was mighty hard to cut."

Jeoffrey shakes his head. "No, this beast was clearly alive. Just tough." He glances over his shoulder towards where the orcs were. "The orcs were all zombies," he states with great assurance.

Alexandre tosses aside a very moldy hunk of bread. "How can anything eat this?" he says disdainfully. "Nothing useful at all," he reports.

3/29/02 : Beyond The Ogre
De'von sighs, "Ratt, are we clear? What lies ahead?"

Ratt reports on what he found during his quick search. "I didn't see anyone," he says as he cleans his dagger, "but that doesn't mean someone didn't hear the fight. That ogre fellow looks more like the muscle of this operation, not the brains."

De'Von, on an instinct, opens the eyelids of the ogre, examining them briefly for any sign of abnormality. The female bardess stands and adjusts her leather armor, "Still not used to these things." Sighing she continues, "Is everyone prepared to move on?"

"Let's move on then," Alexandre says, eyeing the corpses with disgust.

Ratt nods and resumes his role as scout for the party. The wary thief keeps a keen eye open for signs of an ambush as they proceed.

The room beyond is really just a very wide corridor; there is nothing in it except for the two other doors at the far end, some sixty feet from the corridor. Ratt listens at both doors and notes he doesn't hear anything. Opening the left door reveals a small room with a stairwell on the far wall. A startled fist-sized rat scurries down the stairs. The other door opens to where the ogre must have lived. Piled up blankets and pillows served as its bed. A large chest with an extraordinarily large lock sits in one corner. In the other are the rotting remains of previous meals, bones and putrid meat from gods know what sorts of beasts.

4/5/02 : The Chest
Ratt scans the room making sure that the ogre lived alone before approaching the chest. Ratt quickly scans the chest for any sign of traps before beginning work on the lock.

"You might want to stand back, " suggests the thief as he prepares to open the chest.

"Not a problem," Alexandre says, giving Ratt plenty of room.

Ratt works on the lock for a solid ten minutes and is rewarded with a click and the body of the lock swinging free. The thief removes the lock carefully, then cautiously pushes up on the lid. It is too heavy for him to do alone. Alexandre sheathes his sword and comes to the chest. Together, they lift the very heavy lid up revealing more gold than any of them have seen on a long, long time. There items barely poking out of the gold, difficult to make out what they are.

4/23/02 : Treasure
"Someone might want to watch the door," De'Von suggests taking a single coin and examining it closely. Jeoffrey slides closer to the entry.

"Amazing," says the thief poking at the coins in the chest with his dagger. "I wonder what sort of nasties are on the bottom of this pile of goodies."

"Before we start poking around with the gold, we better make sure there are no traps inside the chest - and what are those things?" Alexandre asks, pointing at the unidentified things poking out.

"Ah, right," says Ratt as he resheathes his dagger. De'Von backs off as the thief checks the chest once again. "Safe," Ratt proclaims with certainty.

As Jeoffrey watches the door, the other three remove all of the objects from the chest: A bone wand, a bejeweled dagger, a copper ewer, three wooden scroll tubes, six metal vials, and a silver flute.

4/29/02 : Magic Treasure
"I expect we should divide these items now," remarks De'Von, "as you never know when one of these will come in handy. I doubt the dagger has good throwing balance, so I will take the flute and either the wand or some vials."

"Not a bad idea. I can't do much with the scrolls, the dagger may be useful - Ratt?" Alexandre

"I might be able to figure out the scrolls," comments the thief. "And I'd like to test the balance of this dagger, but would settle for the wand. I have no use for the flute or bowl."

Ratt suggests, "How about this. Jeoffrey you take the dagger and three potions. De'von you take the flute, the bowl, and two potions. And I'll take the wand, the scrolls, and a potion. The gold we'll just split evenly."

De'Von considers this. "Might I suggest that it would appear that the flute best suits me, the bone wand for Ratt, the ewer for Jeoffrey, and the dagger for the flashy Alexandre. We can each take a bottle, give one extra each to Jeoffrey and Alexandre, and since it would appear that only Ratt or myself could use the scrolls, we can split them." De'Von argues convincingly. "Is that a noise." she asks as she looks toward the corridor.

"No noise." Jeoffrey looks over from his post at the door. "I could detect magic on it," he offers.

"Smart idea," says Alexandre, moving to cover the door for the priest.

Jeoffrey casts his spell and looks at the loot. "Okay, the wand is faintly magical, as are the vials and scrolls. The flute is strongly magical. The gold, dagger and ewer are not magical."

5/6/02 : Down The Stairs
"Mmmm, perhaps it is a flute of orc charming." De'Von muses. "I am not sure that I want to try it underground, but if we are in a pinch..."

"Well, if there's nothing left here to do, we may as well move on", Alexandre suggests, tucking the dagger into his belt.

Once the treasure is divided, with most of the gold left behind as it is too heavy, Ratt takes the point out the door and towards the stairs. Again, they seem to startle a small rat and it scurries down the stairs.

"That was a bit of deja vu," comments Jeoffrey dryly.

Ratt moves down the stair ahead of the group. At the bottom there are three doors, the right one destroyed by an axe from the markings. "The rats must nest through there," whispers Ratt when the others approach. "I can hear them. I don't hear anything through the center door. I can hear very muffled voices through the door on the left."

5/14/02 : Storage Room
"I do not want to get into a confrontation and not know what is behind me." De'Von comments. "Let's go straight, but quietly."

"I'm with De'Von. Ratt, if you would be so kind?" Alexandre asks nodding towards the door.

Ratt nods and quickly examines the center door while keeping an ear on the noises coming from the other two. When he is satisfied that the door is not trapped the nimble thief tests the lock before opening the door a crack. Beyond the door is a short corridor, some twenty-five feet that opens to a larger well lit room. Ratt slides forward cautiously to check it out.

After a few heartbeats, the thief waves the others forward. The room proper is about thirty feet square. There is a door ahead and in the right corner. A metal ladder is secured in the middle of the left wall, leading up to a trap door. Arranged throughout the room are crates, most 2'x2'x3', some slightly larger. None are labeled and all are sturdy wood with iron bands. They are stacked no higher than three high, usually only two high. The crates take up about one-third of the floor space. In the corner just to the right is a small desk on which burns a candle, almost to the nub. A quill pen sits in an ink vial, and a few blank sheets of parchment lay under the vial. The stool lays tipped to the ground. There is a faint odor of vanilla.

5/20/02 : In The Crates
"Looks like someone left in a hurry," whispers Ratt as the others arrive in the room. "I'll check the exits while you examines the boxes and desk." Ratt moves first to the door across the room and then to the one in the corner before finally climbing the latter to listen at the trap door.

"I think you're right, lad," Alexandre says, surveying the room. "Let's see what we've got in here." The swashbuckler heads towards one of the crates to open it.

De'Von puts her fingers to her chin and says, "I wonder what they are exporting? Let me see if there is any evidence in the parchments over here." De'Von searches the table for any signs of what may have been written on paper or any scratch pieces of parchment with writing. Jeoffrey follows the bardess.

Ratt slides down the ladder. "Nothing making any noise behind the door or the trapdoor," he says, pointing to each.

De'von rubs her finger across a relatively dry ink stain, darkening the skin. She then rubs lightly the top piece of parchment. This makes the indentation from the writing on the previous top sheet easier to make out. "Clever," murmurs Jeoffrey. The bardess merely smiles.

Alexandre grunts from the exertion of popping open the crate. "This is packed like they expect it to roll down a hill or something," he says. Finally, the top separates from the crate. The odor of vanilla becomes stronger.

"I thought that smell was from the candle," says Jeoffrey.

"It is," says De'Von, frowning. "They are making candles here. Out of humanoid fat," she adds distastefully. "Apparently, kobold candles smell like vanilla," she says, reading some more. "Elven candles smell of lilac. Dwarven candles smell of cinnamon..."

5/24/02 : Cyric
"They are making candles out of fat? Why bother?" Alexandre asks. "Wouldn't it be easier to do it the traditional way? Seems like a lot of trouble to go through".

"Ewww" comments Ratt as he wrinkles up his face in disgust, "Just what do they plan on doing with these candles."

Jeoffrey takes a deep breath. "Rending animal fat for candles is an old process. I can only assume these are for some evil purpose." He takes another deep, calming breath. "I sense the Cyrics are involved."

6/4/02 : Cyric and Demons
"Cyric's...an evil group of cultists aren't they?" De'Von asks.

"That's understating it," mutters Jeoffrey. The priest makes a warding sign. "I should have known the Prince of Lies would be behind such evil. Priests of the Dark Sun are pledged to spread strife and work murder everywhere in order to make folk fear and believe in Cyric. They indulge in intrigue in every land so as to spread strife everywhere without plunging realms into widespread war and thus giving worship only to Tempus, the war god. Cyricists spend most of their time scheming against each other in an endless struggle, with each priest striving to strengthen his or her own personal power. Cyric speaks often to his faithful clergy, but not with one voice - what he says often sets different churches at cross-purposes and different Cyricist priests at each other's throats as much as it promotes the defeat of other religions."

"Well I think we now know why the elves were captured", says Ratt, "Which way ya think to the prisons?"

Alexandre shrugs. "Guess we just keep looking."

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than a ghostly apparition appears. It is the elven woman who pleaded to them before. "I can but stay mere moments," she says, face contorted in pain. "The last sending cost the lives of two of my brethren." She pauses to focus her concentration. "I sense you are near, but still far. Always go up. We are at the top levels of the Halls." Suddenly her expression becomes one of abject fear and the image flickers. A brief flashing reveals a huge demonic creature and then the apparition is gone.

6/17/02 : The Room Above
De'Von quickly speaks, "Well timed, Alexandre. I fear we are too late for many things, but perhaps not too late to save the lives of a few. Let us move upward as she requested, and although I do not suggest that we are reckless, I do suggest that we move with a bit more haste."

"Up it is," responds Ratt nimbly climbing up the ladder. Lifting the trapdoor a crack with his dagger the thief scans for trouble before pushing the trapdoor all the way up.

"Aye, let's do this thing!" Alexandre snaps heading up.

The room above is empty. The trapdoor pushes up a small rug in the corner. The entire floor of the thirty-foot square chamber is covered with small rugs, in fact. Two doors face each other on opposite sides of the room. There are three cots against the far wall. Against the near wall there are three practice dummies which are pretty well hacked up. Otherwise, the room is barren of decoration.

6/25/02 : Unexpected Results
"Alexandre, check out those dummies for evidence of the types of weapons they used against them." De'Von requests. She looks to Ratt, "If you listen at that door, I will listen at this one." She points to the door closest to her and when Ratt nods, she makes her way across the room.

"Sure, De'Von", Alexandre says, heading over to the practice dummies to take a look. The damage to the dummies is pretty consistent with large blade, maybe even a two-handed sword. Jeoffrey stands watchful.

Ratt nods and moves to investigate the indicated door. After checking for traps the thief cracks the door in order to get a glimpse of the room beyond. Beyond is a hallway running parallel with the wall. Across from the door is another door.

No sound comes from De'Von's door so she cautiously opens it. The small room contains a rusty iron bathtub. Peering over the rim of the tub from the door, De'Von sees it is about half full of murky water. What she doesn't see is the slight ripples as a tentacle of water springs forth and grabs the bard, pulling her roughly through the door and into the tub with a splash.

6/28/02 : To The Rescue!
De'Von, trying to remain calm, reaches for her dagger and attempts to slash at the creature holding her while holding her breath, careful not to cut herself, knowing that the tentacle was made of water itself. This is not an easy proposition when one is being squeezed as well as drowned.

Ratt draws his dagger as he runs across the floor and through the door. Reaching the edge of the tub the nimble thief slashes at the watery tendril holding De'Von under the water. Ratt plunges his hand into the water looking for the drain for the tub.

Alexandre, seeing that he may get in the way rather than help, assumes a guard position at the door in the even of an ambush. Jeoffrey begins murmuring a prayer.

Another tentacle appears from the water and reaches for Ratt. He jumps back, dodging it, but almost slips on the oily water that has splashed on the floor.

De'Von continues her struggles, though she is weakening from the lack of oxygen. Jeoffrey finishes his spell and the murky water turns crystal clear. Whatever was holding De'Von releases her. Ratt quickly helps the bard out of the tub.

7/3/02 : The Water Weird
"First animated corpses and now animated water," Ratt comments cynically. "Adventuring does have its excitements." Smiling the thief adds, "How about we try my door."

De'Von coughs and tries to adjust her now wet clothing to comfort. "What was that, what happened?"

"Your were caught by a water weird," says Jeoffrey.

"Well, that was interesting," Alexandre deadpans. "A water weird you say?"

"Yes," replies the priest. "A water elemental."

"Hey, look," exclaims Ratt. At the bottom of the tub is a gold ring.

7/8/02 : Four Doors
"Well, at least we'll get something out of De'Von getting drenched," Alexandre says, eyeing the ring. "I think that belongs to us now!"

"I can check to see if its magical later, but for now I think I should conserve my magics to deal with whatever is holding the elves," comments Ratt as he heads toward the door, "Speaking of which I think we should hurry. That water thing might have alerted someone of our presence."

The corridor outside is still empty and quiet. It heads of a good fifty feet to the right and ends in a door. To the left the corridor stretches some seventy feet and ends with doors on either side. "Door... door... door... door... pick a door," chants Jeoffrey under his breath.

7/16/02 : Down The Corridor
"I say left," comments Ratt as he starts down the left hall.

"Wherever you think they might have a towel, Ratt," comments De'Von. "You know, these things were uncomfortable before I became wet." she states as she adjusts herself.

Ratt eyes De'Von as she adjusts herself unaware of the bards recent change. Smiling suggestively the young thief slips into the shadows and continues down the hall.

"Left sounds as good as any," Alexandre says. Watching Ratt eye De'Von, he starts to say something, then grins and keeps his mouth shut.

As Ratt examines both doors, Jeoffrey stands at the door opposite where they came out. Alexandre and De'Von wait a little closer to the thief.

"Not trapped," whispers Ratt as he opens the door on the same side as the room they just exited. "Interesting..."

The room beyond is a small storeroom of shovels, picks, trowels and barrels of mortar mix. There is also a sleeping dwarf atop one of the barrels.

7/19/02 : The Dogs
"Signally for the other to be ready, Ratt slips quietly into the room and across the floor toward the barrel.

Ratt slips his dagger under the dwarf's chin before tapping the sleeping man on the forehead with his free hand, "Wake up sleepy. I have some questions for you."

The dwarf wakes up disoriented, though the dagger point to the chin clears up his situation pretty quickly. "What?"

"I'll slice your throat open before you can move," threatens Ratt as he applys pressure on the dagger to emphasize his resolve, "Tell we what I want to know and you may make it out of here alive. Now who are you and what are you doing in this place."

The dwarf's eyes scan the room, easily seeing he is outnumbered. "Hockter," he grunts resignedly. "I feed the dogs."

7/30/02 : The Dwarf's Question
No one immediately responds. Then Moranda asks, "What dogs?"

"Across the hallway," replies the dwarf, squirming slightly against Ratt's knife.

Ratt waits patiently while the dwarf answers the questions about the dogs and then asks, "Where are the prisoners being held?"

The dwarf swallows loudly. "If I tell you I don't know, you're gonna kill me, right?" he manages to say, his mouth dry.

8/2/02 : Left For The Dogs
"That depends if you can provide us any other useful information," says Ratt with a sneer on his face. "What can you tell us about the creature who runs this place?"

"Let's not get too excited now, Jameson," Moranda says to Ratt. She slowly walks toward the dwarf. "Loosen the knife a bit, I am sure he is an innocent down here." She looks to the dwarf. "Please tell us what is happening here, we were sent by some very powerful beings and I don't wish to disappoint them."

Ratt stands the dwarf and turns him to face Moranda. "Try anything and I'll feed your bloodless corpse to your dogs," whispers Ratt into the dwarf's ear before lowering the blade from the man's throat.

The dwarf look from captor to captor nervously. "I don't know anything," he stammers.

"Which passages lead to the upper chambers?" demands Ratt.

When the dwarf fails to respond immediately Ratt turns his head toward his companions. Winking the thief asks, "Should I kill this uncooperative dog herder?"

Leering at the dwarf, Alexandre snorts at Ratt's remarks. "Not that there will be much left for the dogs, young one... you ate most of the last one, remember?" Jeoffrey moves away from the interrogation.

A look of horror overcomes the already nervous dwarf. "Honestly, I don't know anything," he says pleadingly. "I just feed the dogs."

8/6/02 : Hocktor's Answers
Ratt signals for Alexander to guard the dwarf. "I'm going to take a look around to make sure we don't get ourselves surprised," comments the thief. Alexandre nods at Ratt, and assumes a guard position. Hearing the string of questions the others are hitting the hapless captive with, he just sits back and enjoys the interrogation show.

"Relax...even people who think they know nothing, actually do know quite a bit. The fact is that what you perceive as nothing, may be very helpful to us." Moranda begins. "Now just take a few minutes, take a drink." Moranda comments as she hands he skin to the dwarf, "and start from the beginning. How did you come to work here, who hired you and the like."

The dwarf takes a small sip, still not trusting the halfling. "The big boss says he has a job for us," starts the dwarf, taking another drink.

"Big boss?" asks Alexandre.

"Yeah. Head of our clan," responds Hockter "Anyways, he says he worked a deal with some people that we get paid pretty well and just have to do our jobs."

Ratt scans the contents of the room before checking to make sure the dog door is locked securely. Jeoffrey nods to him from his position at the door.

"Do you know what the dogs are used for?" Moranda asks.

The dwarf nods. "Big hounds for huntin'. Never seen what they hunt," he adds quickly.

"Do you know of any prisoners being held here?" Moranda continues.

Hocktor shrugs. "I do my job, which is to feed the dogs. I don't ask questions."

Ratt returns. "The door he says is where the dogs are is locked and I heard some sort of barking beyond."

Moranda nods to the thief. "How do you feel about elves?" the halfling asks the dwarf.

"I can take 'em or leave 'em," he replies with as slight shrug.

8/9/02 : Answers
"Do you know where some elves might be held? Since you can take them or leave them, you wouldn't mind telling us where they are so we can take them right?" Moranda asks.

The dwarf knits his extra-bushy brows together. "Elves? What elves?" he asks confusedly.

"Dwarf do you know which way leads up from here?" asks Ratt impatiently.

"Yeah. Door at the end of the hall. But there's an ogre on the other side.

"What's with the orcs in the other room? Last I heard, dwarves and orcs didn't exactly get along," Alexandre says dryly.

Hocktor half-smirks. "You have no idea how much we protested havin' to work with that bunch." He spits. "But the Big Boss says we got to work with them."

8/30/02 : What To Do With The Dwarf?
"You call this guy the Big Boss... he is large in stature or title or both?" Moranda asks. "Are you sure you have never met him?"

Hocktor's brows rise. "Of course I've met him. He's the Big Boss of the Clan."

Moranda looks again to the dwarf. "You keep saying that a group of you were working with them. Who is we and how many are there of you?"

The dwarf hesitates again. "My Clan," he says, swallowing. "About 200 of us."

"So what should we do with him," asks Ratt pointing the tip of his dagger at Hocker. "Can't just leave him here to warn everyone that we are coming."

"He DOES do everything his boss tells him to. Perhaps you are right... either he stays out of our way now, or the boss will tell him to attack us and he will die in battle," Moranda says simply.

"How about locking him up with his dogs," offers the thief.

"Well, either we kill him, bring him a long or tie him up and leave him," Alexandre says offhandedly. "Personally, he doesn't seem like the type that has reaped havoc on innocents, so killing him seems a little cold. How about we leave him tied up with the dogs, as was suggested?"

9/6/02 : To The Kennels
Ratt looks about the room for someone to suggest something else before approaching the dwarf. "To the dogs with you then."

Hocktor doesn't resist as Ratt searches him. The thief finds nothing so he sets to binding the dwarf hand and foot with a piece of sturdy rope. Ratt rises. "Oooops, almost forgot about this," he says as he ties a piece of dirty cloth into the dwarf's mouth.

"He's too heavy for me to carry," comments Ratt as he heads toward the dog pens. "I'll get the door if someone can drag him along."

Alexandre lifts the dwarf by the collar like a sack of potatoes.

Ratt cracks the door to the dog pens to make sure that the dogs are not waiting on the other side. A dozen malnourished but very threatening large dogs begin barking loudly as the door opens. Ratt quickly shuts the door before one of the canines bite him.

9/17/02 : Dumping The Dwarf
"Hmmm. I was hoping they would be in individual pens," comments Ratt over the muffled barks of the dogs.

"It doesn't look like you are taking good care of you charges," accuses Ratt as he digs around in his pack. The nimble thief rips open several ration packages including a package of dried meat before turning toward Alexandre. "Lets try that again. I'll toss in the food, then you toss in the dwarf."

Ratt waits while Alexander positions his grip on the dwarf. "On three. One. Two. Three!"

Ratt yanks open the door, tosses the food into the pack of dogs and then dodges to the side as Alexandre sends the dwarf flying. As Hocktor crosses the door jam, Ratt slams the door on the dwarf's heels and smiles as he hears a satisfying grunt through the closed door.

"If we get the chance I'd really like to come back and release those dogs," comments Ratt as he locks the door to the cage, "I would hate for them to get desperate enough to eat the dwarf. The poor dogs might get sick eating such a nasty excuse for a keeper."

"Aye, killing the dwarf doesn't bother me, but giving the poor mutts indigestion does," Alexandre cracks. "Let's move on, hopefully the noise doesn't attract any unwanted attention."

Jeoffrey is already standing at the door opposite the one they originally came in from. The look of disgust is clear on his face but he says nothing about the treatment of the dwarf. He does say, �I listened but didn�t hear anything.� He nods to the wooden door.

Ratt checks it and nods in agreement to Jeoffrey�s assessment there was no noise beyond. Carefully, he opens it. The dark room beyond large, about twenty feet square, with stairs running up along the far wall. There are three dark red stains on the floor still glistening that show signs that whatever bled were dragged up the stairs recently. In the middle of the right wall is a door slightly ajar.

9/21/02 : The Chamber Above
De'Von looks to Ratt and motions toward the door.

"I think the path is clear - we follow the trail," Alexandre whispers.

Ratt nods at Alexandre and then points towards the stairs.

Ratt slips into the room moves silently along the wall to the left. Keeping an eye the door, Ratt climbs the stairs being careful not to walk in the patches of blood. The stairway is not long and ends in an iron gate. Peering carefully, Ratt can make out a large, irregularly shaped room. There are several man-sized cages along the walls, most of which are filled with people long dead. There are also a half-dozen chains hanging from the ceiling, from which hang three elves limply, slowly dropping blood into large buckets. No guards are present.

9/24/02 : Help The Others
"This could be a trap," Alexandre whispers, "But I have to check to see if those poor bastards are alive." With that, he slithers over to check on the hanging bodies.

Ratt nods at Alexandre's assessment, but follows him across the room to the hanging elves. Jeoffrey and De�Von hang back.

Checking the first elf, they find he is beyond help. The second male elf is alive, but barely. The third is the elf that appeared to them outside the Haunted Halls. Her eyes open at Alexandre�s approach and she smiles weakly. �Help the others,� she whispers before falling mercifully unconscious.

10/7/02 : Coming To Their Aid
"Quickly, get them down!" Alexandre whispers harshly.

"Someone has to die for this," mutters Ratt as he looks for a way to get the elves down.

"What magicks they possess..." De'Von muses in wonder. She helps her companions lower the elves to the floor.

Jeoffery moves in to help tend the nearly dead elves, calling upon his deity to help.

While Jeoffrey tends to the wounded, Ratt checks out the cages before taking up guard at the head of the stairs.

�They will recover,� murmurs the priest. �We got here in time.�

One of the elves wakes. �Who are you?� he asks haltingly.

10/10/02 : It Worked
Ratt quietly continues his vigil near the stairs, his double-edged dagger spinning nervously in his hand.

"We were asked to come to save you," De'Von responds. "Please tell us what is going on here, perhaps there is more for us to accomplish before we depart?"

The elf�s eyes open and close several times before says, �What?�

�We are here to help you. Are there any others?" Alexandre asks gently.

The elf looks around slowly, obviously still in pain. �Yes� probably dead.�

Another elf awakens. �They came!� he says in a hoarse whisper. �It worked.�

10/15/02 : The Summoning
"What worked? Where are the others?" Alexandre asks, perplexed.

Ratt listens to the elf's story with one ear as he strains to listen for danger coming from below with the other.

�The sum�� he coughs, blood dripping from his lips. �The summoning. Teliadrana was cer�� Again, another coughing spasm. �She was certain it would, though we had doubts.�

�Here, rest,� says Jeoffrey gently. The elf closes his eyes.

�Oh, Beshaba!� curses Ratt. �Something�s coming� sounds like several of them.�

10/23/02 : Orcs
"Prepare yourselves," warns Alexandre, pulling his swords. "I didn't come all this way to die when we were so close. Let's either escape with these poor elves or make these bastards pay dearly for taking us!"

Ratt casts a quick spell and scrambles up the wall to take position above the door. Drawing his crossbow the thief waits.

Jeoffrey and De�Von start to move the elves.

Six orcs enter the room, unaware of the new occupants. Alexandre cuts one down before it even knew there was a problem. A quick bolt from Ratt silences another. The remaining four draw their weapons and the combat is at hand.

10/28/02 : A Brief Battle
"Die, foul beasts!" Alexandre roars, plunging headlong into battle. He thrusts his sword into the belly of one of the orcs. Another orc bashes the swashbuckler in the ribs with a mace.

Ratt drops off of the wall into the doorway and draws his dagger blocking the orcs� escape route. One of the orcs swings his weapon wildly at the thief and Ratt splits heart.

One of the two remaining orcs knocks Alexandre down. The other orc brings a whistle to his lips and blows. Ratt flings his dagger at the orc too late, cutting its cheek.

Jeoffrey leaves the weakened elves with De�Von and rushes to assist, crushing the skull of the orc standing over Alexandre. The remaining orc cuts Jeoffrey�s arm with a scimitar and the priest cries out, the blade obviously poisoned. Ratt uses the confusion to shoot the orc in the throat with his crossbow.

A beastly roar comes from outside the door.

11/5/02 : Things Might Get Interesting
Ratt retrieves his dagger and heads toward the door to look for the source of the roar.

De'Von asks the elves, "Do you know what is the source of that roar?"

One of the elves manages a coherent answer. �A beast on six legs,� he says before falling into a coughing fit. �And very large teeth.�

Alexandre jumps up and says, "Best shut the door, things might get interesting!"

Ratt shuts the door, only to have it burst open, tossing the rogue aside like a rag doll. Standing amongst the splinters of wood is what can best be called a black leopard, but with an extra set of limbs just behind the forelimbs. Its large head is dwarfed by the foot long incisors as it roars again.

11/9/02 : Quick Cat
"Nice kitty!" Alexandre quips, looking at the creature, "anyone got milk?"

"What in hell is that?" shouts Ratt as he picks himself up from the remains of the door.

Jeoffrey positions himself between the elves and the beast.

"Oh" says De'Von as she looks at the creature in some disbelief.

Ratt�s serrated dagger disappears into his cloak as he draws his crossbow from his side. Loading and firing the thief fires high over the heads of his companions. The sleek black beast leaps towards Alexandre, narrowly missed by the bolt.

The swashbuckler dances away from the swipes of the leopard�s forepaws. Alexandre then swings his blade down on the beast, but the nimble cat dodges aside. Ratt takes aim again and squeezes the trigger. The bolt flies under the belly of the beast as the leopard leaps up.

�This thing�s too quick,� mutters Alexandre as he fights off a flurry of swipes from the leopard.

11/13/02 : Changes
"Can we tactically retreat from here?" Alexandre gasps, trying to keep the beast at bay.

Ratt pulls a bit of wool from his tunic and points it toward the creature. Issuing a few words of power Ratt attempts to daze the creature before resuming his attack with his crossbow. The spell has no effect on a creature so large.

Jeoffrey casts a spell and points at the beast. Its eyes darken and it thrashes around blindly, knocking Alexandre down as it does.

A magical wave passes over the room, momentarily dazing all inside. De�Von calls out in pain, but the bard�s voice is significantly lower. �Beshaba!� curses the masculine bard.

12/4/02 : Changes
Ratt glances quickly at the male voice as he loads his crossbow. Raising an eyebrow the thief takes another shot at the creature.

"You'd be surprised how things fit fine one day..." De'Von comments and then adjusting himself quickly points his short sword toward the creature, and attempts to hit it on it's undefended flank. The beast twists, knocking the sword from the bard�s hand.

Rolling up from the floor, Alexandre looks towards De'Von, shakes his head and continues the fray. He hacks at its head as the beast knocks away De�Von�s sword. The sword is jerked from Alexandre�s grip as the beast flops down dead from the blade imbedded in its skull.

12/10/02 : Safe
"Fine... ahem... job" Devon responds clearing his throat. "That was quite a blow. Devon adjusts and uncomfortably leans over to pick up his sword. "Is anything else coming?"

Jeoffrey, who continues to stare at Devon in disbelief, shakes his head. �I hear nothing.� He looks to his injured arm.

"Wow, that was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be," Alexandre muses, walking over to wrench his sword free. "So, Devon - welcome back. Think you'll be staying with us for a bit this time??"

"I think I need some explaining when we get a chance," comments Ratt toward the masculine bard, "but for now I'll go checkout the stairs to see if our fight has drawn additional attention."

One of the elves speaks haltingly, �None will� come. For now. Safe. Our gift.� He then falls unconscious.

12/16/02 : Tell Me About Yourself
"Ok, we're safe for now. I say we get the wounded out of here first, then continue exploring for others," Alexandre suggests.

"Where are we going to put them?" asks Ratt looking at the unconscious pair on the floor. "It�s going to take us quite a while to get them all the way out of the well."

�I think the elf was telling us it was safe here,� says Jeoffrey, glancing about the room. �Ugly place.�

"Any way we can get them to tell us where other survivors might be located?" asks Ratt.

�Not in their condition,� says Jeoffrey. �I need to rest and prepare for my prayers in the morning.

�Then we wait here,� says Devon, pacing around the room. �If what the elf says is true, and we have no reason to doubt it, then we should be safe.� The bard pauses, considering the iron gate. �Though we should post a guard.�

�While we have the time you might tell me about yourself,� suggests Ratt.

12/26/02 : Awaiting Devon's Tale
"My first objective would be to put on some old clothes...these don't seem to fit very well any more." Devon winks at Alexandre.

The bard goes to a corner and pulls an old tattered outfit from his backpack and changes. When finished, he moves toward the others, "Well Ratt, you wish to hear a tale of excitement, horror and woe? Do you think you can stomach it?"

"Excitement, horror, and woe?" questions Ratt from his lookout post near the stairs, "Given what we went through to get here I think I'll manage. Spill it."

1/7/03 : Devon's Short Tale
Ratt glances cautiously down the stairs as Devon begins his tale.

Devon smiles at his attentive audience, collecting his thoughts as it has been some time since he has been able to tell his tale. "Allow me to first properly introduce myself." Devon finds an appropriate place in the room for his stage.

"You asked my name didn't you? Well, I am Devon Halfright." He performs a ceremonious and most memorable bow. "I am riddle master extraordinaire, sleuth supreme, Stone Dwarf Carrier, friend to the halfling dead, dispatcher of justice, honor bound prisoner to the Dungeons of Time, Vampyress's lost soul, and most recently, Champion of Women's Rights."

Devon winks at Alexandre's chuckle, but does not appear to pause in the least.

Devon turns to look over the horizon. "That way, " he points, "is where it all began. In the southern portion of Cormyr. I was born the son of a leathermaker, where I learned that trade and funded myself through schooling is music and entertainment. My skills grew not only in that, but in deduction as my skills as a master of riddles and a budding sleuth emerged. I took several jobs in town, but the internal adventure was not enough. I came across a group of people who joined me in an adventure. We petitioned for a charter in Suzail and were thusly named, the 'Travelers'." Devon turns just now back toward the group, reflecting for a moment on his missing friends.

"Among many other escapades we encountered a creature which took the life of a famous adventurer, Tanar D'Wilkensboot. Dead? Perhaps not, as powerful priests realize that although one is turned to stone, it does not mean the end. We carried him to where he might be helped and I hope to this day that he is drinking an ale over a tasteless dwarven meal." He pauses but for a moment to smile at the image.

Returning to the story, he continues, "Another time, we came across a large wolf, perhaps a werewolf, as the small girl it had treed turned out to be a mistress of the dark, a vampyress, by another name. She slew our friend halfling, Pip. With as much courage as we could muster we returned Pip to a temple of Tymora before the ...dark one could take over his body. It was then, then, that she decided our fate. She has followed us ever since, taunting and tormenting us, but recently, when my body had left me, she was turned away from our trail. I wonder what she will do if or when she ever finds me again..."

"Ahh, but there is more..." he quickly continues. An assassin was once hired to perform wrongdoings on our party, yes even when a vampyress follows us, yet others sought to inflict wrong on our traveling group. I saw no other alternative than do destroy her. Time was not on our side, and I would not allow her to leave only to have her return on us and kill us in our sleep. This, perhaps cursed, amulet I wear on my neck reminds me of that tragic day. To an end, I reported to the Courts of King Azoun to stand trial for my wrongdoing and be sentenced to the Dungeons of Time. In my journey to the capital city, fellow prisoners, although unknown to me at the time, escaped and took me with them. I escaped from them with Alexandre's help and am heading back to stand up to my trial. I was however waylaid and distracted by several of you and the circumstances here that have prevented my immediate return."

Devon smiles and takes a deep breath as though he had completed his story. "Oh yes, and quaffing a potion we thought to be healing brought the will of Beshaba and turned me into a woman. But you all knew that..."

TRA 1/28 : The Plan

"Right, so all in all, just your basic, average adventuring story, right Devon?" Alexandre smirks.

"Not exactly average,� drawls Devon. �I wouldn't say. I think above average!"

Ratt looks Devon up and down. "Think ya made more attractive women, but who am I to say. Any idea what caused you to change back?"

"I do wonder about that Ratt. In fact, I wonder if that creature had some sort of magical effect that negated my changing." Devon muses. "Of course, maybe it was just time to change back." Shrugging his shoulders, "I just hope the changing is over...clothes don't fit quite right when you do that... either too tight up top, or too tight down below."

"So what's the plan?" asks Ratt, once again looking down the stairs. "I'd rather not hang out here waiting for another of those beasts to appear."

2/9/03 : Ratt's Reconnaissance
"I can take a quick look around if you want," suggest Ratt, his gaze darting around the large, irregularly shaped room filled with man-sized cages. "Nothing seems to be coming up the stairs for now anyway."

"True...do we need to rest or shall we press on. To be honest, someone will soon figure out that something is wrong and come looking for trouble." Devon replies.

"Good idea, Ratt,� says Alexandre, his attention on the slumbering elves. �If you don't mind doing a sneak and peak, then we can figure out what we're going to do". Alexandre

Ratt slips down the stairs and returns a few minutes later.

Devon asks, "What was past that door Ratt, did you see?"

Ratt explains that the door downstairs that was ajar leads to a long, irregularly shaped corridor. At the end of the corridor is another door, this one iron bound and locked. Ratt had listened through the door and heard several creatures speaking low, too low to hear. Ratt picked the lock but did not open the door, instead deciding to return to his companions to report.

2/17/03 : Plan of Attack
Devon begins, "If they are talking low they could be preparing to ambush us... Shall we get the jump on them?"

"I agree with Devon. Let's hit them before they hit us", Alexandre says.

"I was going to suggest that we flee with the elves," comments Ratt, "But I doubt we'd get very far before they found us out. Attack it is then. Any volunteer to go through the door first?"

The other three look at the thief. �Any way for you to slip in to give us an advantage of surprise?� asks Jeoffrey.

3/9/03 : What Ratt Encounters
Ratt thinks for a moment. �Yes, I believe I could,� he finally says. Of course, if someone could make me invisible�� he looks pointedly at Devon.

The bard shakes his head. �Sorry, not at this time.�

The thief nods. �I�ll need you all to be back up in case things go wrong.�

�You can count on us,� states Alexandre enthusiastically.

Ratt nods and heads out the door and back to the closed on. The others follow, but at a safe distance behind. He carefully listens at the iron bound door, checks to see if the lock is still unlocked, then pushes open the door. He drops Nibbles on the floor before slipping through. The rat crouches against the wall ready to sound the alert should its master encounter trouble.

The room beyond is quite large, probably fifty feet square. There are stacks of small crates, some busted open and their contents, such as rice, silks, jewelry, and ivory lay strewn across the floor. There are three long tables located in no particular order. The closest one has remnants of meals, including dishes so crusted they are starting to turn fuzzy. The next closest table has the remains of what Ratt assumes to be an disemboweled elf. The farthest table is where four orcs and an ogre are gathered, talking in low grunts.

Ratt slips behind the nearest stack of crates. He takes note that two other doors, one slightly ajar, are past where the orcs and ogre are. Slowly, he makes his way closer to the group, ducking behind stacks of crates as he does. Fortunately, the beasts seem intent on whatever they are discussing, with the ogre pounding his fist on the table a lot. Ratt soon finds himself behind the closest stack of crates, crouched down low.

�Master say find men but no kill,� says the ogre, pounding his fist on the table again. The table looks ready to splinter if it takes too many poundings.

�Only need one,� says one of the orcs. �We have sport with the others.�

�No!� Again the ogre pounds the table and it does collapse, snapping loudly. The various coins, mugs, daggers and caltrops that were on the table go flying.

The door behind Ratt flings open and Alexadre rushes in to help his friend. Such is the nature of swashbucklers. He catches the orcs unawares and cuts one down. Devon and Jeoffery are at the door watching. The ogre leaps the remains of the table to pound on Alexandre. Ratt takes this moment to flank the monster and drive his dagger into its kidneys.

The melee has begun as the three remaining orcs surround Ratt.

3/20/03 : No Kill!
"Ah bugger!" shouts Ratt as he concentrates on dodging and deflecting the blows from the orcs. "A little help please!"

"Now we're talking!" Alexandre exclaims, slashing and parrying with a giant smile on his face. "This is what life is about!"

Devon calls upon his songs to bring a large earthen hand from the ground underneath the ogre. It reaches out and grasps at the ogre, holding it helpless for the moment.

Jeoffrey calls upon the might of Lathander to have a column of holy fire incinerate two of the orcs. Their ashes fall to a pile at Ratt�s feet.

Alexandre cuts into the held ogre, leaving ragged lines of blood on its shoulder, neck and face. Still, the ogre struggles to free itself and get at the nimble swashbuckler.

Ratt, pleased he only has to deal with one opponent dances around it so he flanks it opposite Alexandre�s position. A quick stab of his dagger and the orc fights no more.

The ogre, seeing its precarious position, calls out, �No kill! I help!�

4/1/03 : How?
"Ok, no kill," says Alexandre roughly. "Drop your weapons, down on your knees. Now tell us what we want to know and we may not kill you after all!"

The ogre would do what is asked, except for the large earthen hand grasping him immobile at the moment. "How?" it asks, perplexed.

4/13/03 : The Interrogation
"Just drop your weapon. My elemental friend will hold you there until you tell us what we want," Devon says. Looking toward Alexandre, "Begin your interrogation." he says indicating Alexandre should hurry with his questions.

The ogre shakes his hand allowing his weapon to drop clattering to the floor. Ratt grabs the ogre's weapon and begins searching the orc bodies, with Jeoffrey�s assistance. Other than their weapons and armor, they have nothing of interest.

"How many, how are they armed, and where are they?" Alexandre snaps.

The ogre turns to look at the swashbuckler. �How many? Many. Armed with swords and axes and bows and spears.� He squirms a bit. �All over where they are.�

4/24/03 : Powerful
Devon makes a gripping motion with his fist as he looks at the Hand holding the ogre. "And tell us who is in charge. What is the purpose of this place?� He leans closer, holding his gripping hand up so the ogre can see it. �And Why are elves being persecuted?"

"How about where are all the prisoners held?" inquires Ratt as he moves cautiously around the area listening for trouble.

"What else is out there besides orcs and ogres?" Alexandre adds.

The ogre looks a little overwhelmed by all the questions, not made easier by the gripping hand holding him at bay. He tries to answer as best he can. �Elves feed power. Make Boss more power. We help Boss get elves and gnomes for power. Once elves and gnomes make power, orcs get for food. Boss up where power made. Very strong.�

4/26/03 : The Boss
"I'm getting confused with all these questions myself - just for the record, who and what is the boss?" Alexandre asks.

The ogre squirms some more. Not to try to escape, for he�s accepted that he cannot, but he seems very nervous. �Death Mage,� he says finally.

"Are you saying he kills them and in doing so becomes more powerful?" Devon asks. The ogre nods.

Devon shakes his head curiously at the response. "So tell me then, how does he take this power, with his hands, or a machine or magic?"

Squirming some more, the ogre responds, �Boss touch them in head and they go grey, like ash. The Boss glow then. Powerful.�

"What are we going to do with the big guy here?" comments Ratt.

5/4/03 : Scruples
"Well I believe he no longer needs to be held" Devon says just before the hand disappears. "If you know any weaknesses he has that would be helpful, other than that, we will let you go, but know that if you ever come to attack us, my hand will grab you again and we will slit your throat."

Realizing that Devon's spells is about to run out Ratt takes up position behind the beast just in case it should decide to do something stupid.

"Tie him up and leave it to chance," Alexandre suggests. "I'd rather not kill a helpless prisoner - although I'd bet he wouldn't have the same scruples".

Jeoffrey looks at the ogre as he falls upon being released. �Kill him,� he says, drawing his mace. �He is not human and he had killed innocent lives.� He strides towards the ogre, mace held high.

5/27/03 : Conscience

Ratt grips his dagger tightly, but waits to see what happens before reacting.

Devon starts to say something but stops. He pauses reflectively as he watches Jeoffrey move to rid the world of the abomination.

"Easy there, friend. There is no honor in killing a helpless foe," Alexandre says, stepping in between the two.

Jeoffrey pauses. �He is evil. If we don�t dispatch him he�ll continue to commit evil acts. You want that on your conscience?� he asks Alexandre. �Or do you not have a conscience?�

6/5/03 : Death to the Ogre
Ratt shrugs not willing to engage in the debate over ethics. Dead or gone as long as the creature no longer threatens his escape is all the thief is concerned about.

Devon smiles knowingly. "Alexandre, if you recall I was recently involved in a similar situation with the Elven assassin. This is no different, and I find it quite difficult to disagree with Jeoffrey, despite my promises to the ogre on the contrary."

Walking away from the scene, Alexandre mutters, "Do what you will."

Checking the exits Ratt makes sure their delay doesn't allow someone to sneak up unannounced.

Devon looks to the ogre. "Large creature, answer me these questions. IF we release you as promised, will your master kill you for letting us go? If not, then if your master commands you to return and kill us, will you not try for fear of the master destroying you?"

The ogre does not answer immediately, the questions straining its limited intellect. Finally, it says, �I will leave. Then no one will kill me.�

Jeoffrey doesn�t look convinced of this answer. �So you can commit evil on innocents? I think not.� He swings his mace at the ogre, which it sidesteps easily. The ogre thrusts its hand out grabbing Jeoffrey by the neck and starts to squeeze.

6/8/03 : Struggles "Well, guess that solves the dilemma for me," Alexandre says whimsically, drawing his blade and joining the fray.

"Oh bugger," comments Ratt under his breath as the dagger in his hands takes flight toward the ogre. It bounces off the ogre�s touch hide. Grabbing the crossbow from his quiver, the quick thief quickly follows the dagger with a bolt. It cuts a thin line on the ogre�s shoulder.

Devon brandishes his sword. "You know you won't survive...and it you kill the hand of Lathander, more than just you will suffer. The Morninglord will forever torment your family."

The ogre seems insistent on crushing Jeoffrey�s throat, the cleric feebly struggling to remove its iron-like grip. Devon gets a good angle and strikes at the creature with his short sword.

The combat around the ogre only seems to intensify his desire to crush Jeoffrey�s windpipe. The cleric�s struggles become more frantic as he claws at the ogre�s eyes. Alexandre pushes his sword through the ogre�s ribs, twisting it. Ratt fires another bolt into the ogre�s ear. Devon hacks at the ogre�s elbow, trying to weaken its grip.

Jeoffrey�s struggles cease about the same time the ogre drops him, falling into a sticky pool of his own blood.