Episode 22
"The Perfect Storm"
(c) 2000 Matt Grossman and J. Sage Schreiner

Tron Malkaszar, an irreverant elf -- Matt Grossman
Norel Bolderdash, hulking woodsman of the Adri forest -- Tom Morin
Nigil Palom, noble from a far-distant land -- Kevin Osborn
Aran, a newly remade Paladin from Tenh -- AJ Drexel
Sapphire nee Tika, a courageous gnome -- Corey Paganucci
Rhahid, a mysterious spell-crafter -- Eric Kruller 
All others -- Sage Schreiner

The "away team" arrives back at the ship.

Tron: I say we heal up, then go back and kill all of those rat-things!
Norel: But suppose they fix the ship while we're gone and sail off
without us?
Aran: I shall be here.
Sapphire: I'm coming with you this time. Somebody's gonna pay!

The gnome is now bald as an egg, almost. Slightly bloody tufts of hair
sprout in hard to reach places. She gnashes her teeth with fury.

Rhahid: Well, ok, guys, I guess we will go with Tron's plan, but
Skanda and I need to rest the night to get our spells back.
Norel: Hmm, we should fortify the camp then.  The ratmen might attack
at night.

The ship has been pulled about 200 feet up from the ocean.  Because
she is flat-bottomed she is resting more or less upright on the sands,
propped up by several timbers.  The party decides that light is the
best defence and puts a barrel filled with sand at each end of the
ship.  Inside these barrels they light fires, and set out arrows
covered in tar for use as fire arrows.  There will be fourteen hours
of darkness, so they arrange the watches so that at least one of the
demi-humans is awake at all times.

Sapphire: I can see 120 feet in total darkness!
Tron: I only need to sleep for four hours a night!
Nigil: What do you do with the extra four hours?
Tron: I play a lot of solitaire.
Skanda: Sure you do.
Aran: I like that game!

Late that night, during Norel and Sapphire's watch, an ear-splitting
scream rings out across the dunes.

Norel: I don't know of any animal that makes a sound like that.

Tron and Nigil come up on deck.

Tron: Why don't you shoot a fire arrow out to see what it was?
Norel: Good idea. (starts to aim his bow)
Tron: With my superior hearing I can help.  A little
higher... higher... higher... now!

The flaming arrow flies from the ranger's bow and embeds itself in the
spar.

Nigil: So... you're going to climb up and put that out, right Tron?
Tron: ... (climbs the mast and puts the fire out)

The elf then tries shooting a fire arrow into the darkness, but fails
to illuminate anything interesting.  Nonetheless, they know that the
ratmen were out there... waiting.

In the morning, Norel finds ratmen tracks all around the ship, but no
indication of what might have screamed last night.

Rhahid: Well, guys, now I have my spells back let's go over there and
kick some ass!
Arlo: I'm not rowing you this time.
Nigil: Fine, we can row ourselves.  The sea is calmer today anyway.

Everyone except Aran piles into the longboat and rows across the bay.

Tron: Let's try the left-hand cave this time.
Nigil: Ok.
Sapphire: I'm too short to row!  Blood will be spilled!
Rhahid: Are you sure we should be going along with Tron's ideas?
Tron: What?

They head into the left-hand cave.  A short distance in, the cave
forks into two passages.

Tron: Let's go left.

They hear a deep roar from the left-hand passage.

Tron: That's the way to go!

By the flickering lantern light they see a dark shape slip under their
boat.

Rhahid: Uhh... guys?

The left hand passage soon ends in a water-filled cave with no
dry sand visible.

Rhahid: Well, let's turn back and...

Suddenly the boat is rocked violently.

Norel: There's something in the water!

Sapphire stabs at the dark shape in the water while the rest of the
party frantically rows backwards.  However, the monster keeps pace
with them.

Sealion: Roaaar! (flings itself out of the water and snaps at
Sapphire)
Sapphire: Aaaagh! (stabs at the sealion)
Rhahid: Row faster!

As the gnome struggles with the monster, the boat rocks violently from
side to side, threatening to pitch the party overboard at any moment.

Tron: We can't outrun it! [stab]  Whoooah! (almost falls overboard)
Sealion: Roooarr!
Sapphire: [hack]
Tron: Die! (stabs the monster in the eye, killing it instantly)  Yes!
Hoody-hoo!  Gimme five! (hi-fives the gnome)

There is a louder, deeper roar from the other passage.

Nigil: Uhhh, let's get out of here.
Norel: I think that thing might have had a mate.

The party rows frantically for the ocean.

Rhahid: We won't make it across the bay with that thing chasing us!
Nigil: We'll have to go into the ratmen's cave.
Tron: Sounds like a plan.
Rhahid: Remind me never to listen to one of your "plans" again.

The party heads back into the cave that they entered the day before.
As they beach their boat and prepare to advance into the cave, a mob
of giant rats and ratmen charges them.

Rhahid: Make sure that they don't flank us like they did last time!
Sealion: ROAAAR!
Ratmen: (swimming to attack the party, they are attacked in turn by
the sealion) Squee!  Squee!  Gurgle.

Black clouds of blood darken the sea.

Rhahid: Actually it looks like we don't have to worry about that.

After a brief but savage battle, in which Tron once again iss almost
mortally wounded, the party advances into the cave.  They enter a
large cavern.  There are several ratmen in the cavern, and one huge
white-furred brute.

Tron: Maybe that's Kursiss Lak?
Sapphire: He's going to be "Dead" soon.  Gnyarr!

The lesser ratmen charge towards the party.

Norel: Wait, let's use our heads... Rhahid, cast a web spell!
Rhahid: Just what I was thinking.

The mage's web traps the charging ratmen.  Their chieftain, standing
in the rear, is unaffected but cannot reach the party.

Tron: Now... target practice! [twang twang]

After the rat-mooks have been dispatched, Rhahid dismisses the web spell
and the party closes with the chieftain.

Kursiss Lak: You have killed all!  Now I will kill you!  Squee! [chop]
Nigil: Urgh!  Take that! [stab]
Tron: [twang]  I'm not going to melee with that guy.
Sapphire:  Yaaaargh! [stab]
Norel: How about a nice piece of cheese? [hack chop]
Kursiss Lak: Raaargh! [whack]
Norel: Ouch.
Rhahid: Behold a mage enraged, barbarian beast! [zort zort zort]
Sapphire: Bah!  Leave him to us, mage!
Kursiss Lak: Oook. [thud]
Sapphire: Well, ok.  I guess vengeance has been done.
Tron: Hoody-hoo!  Now's the time to start building up our trophy
collection.  I call dibs on his axe!

The party loots the ratmen's lair.  They find a number of coins of
varying denominations, a large number of axeheads, pikeheads, and
spearheads, several suits of chain, a number of bars of silver, and a
bowl of ointment.

Sapphire: [sniff] What is this stuff?
Rhahid: The only magical stuff I detect is this liquid. (holds up a
vial of some liquid)  I'll hang on to it to study it.
Tron: Just remember it's party treasure.

They have to make several trips back to the ship to carry all this
loot.  Fortunately the sealion has gorged itself on ratmen and does
not molest the party.

Tron: Where do you suppose they got all these iron weapons from?
Nigil: Orcs, maybe?
Norel: Or shipwrecks.  Have to be a lot of ships though.  You could
outfit a small army with this stuff.

Cormak: If you guys have finished killing every living thing in the
vicinity, the ship is ready.

They board the ship, now laden with booty, and set sail once more upon
the treacherous winter waters of the Solnor Ocean.  After a few days sailing
north, the coast bends to the west and the ship follows.  There is no
break in the vast pine forest that broods along the shore, the timber
that is the wealth of the harsh northlands.

Cormak: We are approaching Ratik.
Nigil: What's that? Over there!

Several miles away, a black shape can be seen floating on the water.
It seems that it must be hundreds of feet long to be visible at this
distance.  Clouds of seagulls swarm above it, like smoke above a
smoldering log.  The smell of rotting flesh is borne on the winds to
the nostrils of the party.

Jola: Yuck.
Rhahid: Hooter, go check it out.

The owl is unable to get close as it is mobbed by seagulls
and driven off.

Rhahid: Hooter did see humanoid shapes moving on the... whatever it is.
Tron: We should get closer.
Nigil: No we shouldn't.
Tron: Yes we should.
Rhahid: Remember what happened last time we followed Tron's advice.
Tron: You guys are all cowards.
Rhahid: Fine, you can go check it out. (casts Fly on the elf)
Tron: Cool. (flies towards the shape)
Nigil: There will be no one to save him this time.
Skanda: (nods)

The elf skims the waves and the gulls do not molest him.  Approaching to
about 100 yards, the elf sees that the shape is actually the floating
corpse of an enormous squid, hundreds of feet long.  The humanoid
forms on it are ratmen!  They are cutting up and eating the carcass,
and still more of them are climbing out of the water and feasting,
apparently undaunted by the two-mile swim in frigid water.  The elf is
stunned as he realizes how many of these creatures must lurk in the deep
forests of this land.

Ratmen: (notice Tron and hurl javelins at him, which fall short)
Tron: Heh. (moons the ratmen, then flies back to the ship and reports)

Norel: Wow.  Hopefully they won't swim out after us.
Sapphire: We're probably going fast enough that they couldn't be sure
of catching us.
Cormak: I'll take us farther out anyway, just in case.
Tron: Now we know why it's called "RAT-ik", get it?  (in an
upper-class accent) "Greetings, hairless ones, and welcome to Ratik.
Please wear these false tails at all times to avoid offending our
sensibilities."
Norel: "I don't suppose you chaps would know anything about that
horrible murder down the coast?  Kursiss Lak was killed, poor chap."
Tron: "Seize the hairless ones!  They must not be allowed to escape!
Squeak!"
Skanda: (shakes her head) They must be a plague along this coast.

The next day is clear and calm, yet a heavy swell is coming from the
north.

Bonden: Arrh, that means a storm is brewing, that does.  A mighty
storm to the north.  We'll have foul weather before next sunset, mark
me words, arrh arrh... This reminds me of the time -- back in '41 it was --
Aran: So are all ocean voyages this exciting, or do people
occasionally survive them?
Cormak: We'll make for the Yenkro islands.  If we can't make harbor
we'll be caught on a lee shore.  And we especially don't want that to
happen when the woods are full of rat creatures.

By the next day, when they reach the islands, it is clear that a
massive storm is on them. The wind is slowly growing, and the surf slams
against the high cliffs, throwing white spume into the air which
is instantly whipped away.

As they beach the ship in a harbor beneath
a cluster of small stone houses, men are already at work carrying
fishing boats up off the beach, rounding up livestock, and otherwise
preparing for the storm.  A group of tall, blond, barbaric-looking men
approach the party.

Aran: [ahem] Greetings!  I am Aran of Tenh, and these are my
companions.  We have traveled a long distance, and...
Man: (Puts his hand to his chest in greeting) I am Rognvald.  You must
carry your ship up there (he points up
past the houses of the village) and then help us secure for the
storm.
Aran: Are you sure you don't have any monsters you need killing?
Rognvald: No. Only work that needs doing, and too few hands to do it.
Nigil: I guess there's no avoiding it, we'll have to "work". I'll direct.

They begin the arduous task of unloading the "Osprim's Will" and
hauling it inland.

Nigil: Even this far inland the ship might be damaged by the storm.
We should remove our treasure.
Tron: We have nowhere to put it.
Nigil: At least, we can take the portable stuff; the gold and silver
bars.  Each of us should carry at least one.
Tron: And I'm keeping this axe!

As the day wears on, the wind rises in intensity.

Tron: (pauses to mop sweat off his brow) What the...

The elf's keen eyes can see what appear to be humanoid forms in the
waves near the cliffs at the north side of the island.

Tron: What's that?
Islander: Oh, that's just the sea-witch.
Tron: Sea-witch?
Islander: They don't bother us much, and we don't bother them.
Sapphire: You mean, these are monsters?
Islander: No, the sea-witch.
Rognvald: Bah -- nothing but seals.

The elf and the gnome head over to the cliff.  It is tough going
against the wind, which is steady at 60 miles per hour.  Looking
down the cliff, they see a number of sea trolls, similar in appearance
to Galoop.  They appear to be gleefully body-surfing into the cliff. 
They are always horribly injured when they hit, but regenerate quickly
and swim out for a another try.

Tron: They seem to be enjoying themselves.
Sapphire: I wonder why they don't attack the humans.  Nothing could
stop them if they did.
Tron: Galoop never seemed to go far from the water.

Meanwhile, back at the village:

Woman: It's Thorbrand Njalsson!  He's on the roof!

A small boy has crawled onto the roof of one of the buildings to
recover a cat.  A crowd watches, helpless, as he crawls slowly towards
the animal.  Suddenly a strong gust of wind picks him up and throws
him off the roof to the ground.

Aran: Let me through! (reaches the body)  Hieronyous heal this child! Damn.

Unfortunately, the boy is already dead.

Aran: Oh well, there's nothing I can do.  (picks up the corpse and
carries it to the stunned parents)
Nigil: What about the cat?  Isn't somebody going to save it?
Skanda: I don't think anybody cares about the cat, Nigil.
Rognvald: Everybody had better get under cover.  You can shelter at
Ulrik's house.

After the gnome and the elf return, the party heads inland to take up
storm quarters at the home of Ulrik, his wife Eute, and their two
kids.  The crew is given shelter at another farmhouse.  Hooter the owl
prefers to shelter in a small granary, where he can eat mice.

Ulrik's house is a small one-room affair of stone, with a sunken floor
and a firepit in the center.  There is a small window, now boarded up,
and a door.  The roof is of driftwood timber, and is decorated with
hooks for hanging meat.  There is a small roofed sheep-pen attached to
one side of the house.  For the next day, this small room will be the
party's world as a storm of unprecedented fury howls outside.
Fortunately there is a good stock of alcohol on hand.

Aran: [urp]  Thish shtuff ish pretty good! [hic]
Sapphire: Ooooh, I don't feel so good.
Nigil: This stuff isn't drinkable -- what's this made of, anyway?
Ulrik: That be kelp-brewed ale.
Aran: Gimmemore.
Nigil: Nasty bitter stuff.

The party entertains the family with tales of their exploits, and the
family reciprocates by telling them legends and tales of the islands.
Some of these are sagas of the far north, grim tales of bloody feuds,
piracy, betrayal, and doomed valor, always against the background of
an unremittingly hostile nature.  Others tales are southern in origin,
and more familiar to the party; stories dating from the great Oeridian
"volkswanderung" and common to all Aerdi-speaking peoples.

Despite their enthusiasm for gruesome folk tales, Ulrik's family turn
out to be some of the more civilized people that the party has met,
surprisingly well informed about events outside their little island. The
islands are a common port for ships going both north and south, and the
island people have often spoken with the sailors and crew.

Ulrik: There's no question that we're better off independent than as
part of the "Great Kingdom".  King Oleg is a competent and honest
ruler, which is more than you can say for any of the nobles down
south.
Rhahid: Who are the other notable men of the kingdom?
Ulrik: Well, there's the dukes; Duke Tuathal, of the Highland Duchy,
Duke Baneax, of the Hill Duchy, Duke Eynar, of the North Coast Duchy,
and Duke Jhaveks of the South Coast Duchy.  He's a cousin of some
nobleman down south, named Hastern or something like that.
Tron: Hastern, huh?
Ulrik: Our lord is Baron Thorfinn Bloodaxe, the famous orc-slayer.
Norel: An orc-slayer?  Cool.
Rhahid: What is the main news of the land?
Ulrik: Well, I would say that the orc invasion is the news.
Supposedly there's an orc army ready to pour through the pass into
Ratik any day now. They're waiting for the spring -- orcs don't like
harsh weather. The king is in the field with his army, and most
of the nobles are with him.

The storm builds in intensity throughout the night, and sleep is
almost impossible.  During the day the storm rages furiously, and it
is impossible to go outside.  They can feel the island shaking from
the impact of massive waves.  There is more salt water in the air than
there is rain. The air rises from a howl to a scream to a screech.

Tron: Hey, I think I just saw a fish go by.
Nigil: "Oh, let's leave our treasure by the boat."  It's probably all
gone by now.
Rhahid: I have never read of a storm of such violence.
Ulrik: I've never heard of anything like this.  It must be the wrath
of Osprim.
Tron: Osprim?
Ulrik: She is the sea god.  Surely you know of her?
Tron: Yeah, of course...
Ulrik: We also worship Pholtus and Kor. (indicates the altar in the
corner of the room)  We are honored to share our home with a priestess
of Pholtus.
Skanda: (bows)
Eute: (quietly) I think the storm is the will of Procan. He is a more
powerful god.

The party asks Ulrik about the various monsters and things they
encountered in the north.

Ulrik: I have heard of these rat-men, but not so far east.  I thought
that they lived inland.  And I didn't know that there were so many.  I
don't know what might have been up with that ghost ship, but such
things are always best avoided.
Tron: Humph.
Ulrik: As for those creatures you fought on the iceberg... we have a
legend of beings called "Wendol".  It is said that they were a tribe
that one winter, in their hunger, ate their own flesh to survive.
When the spring came, they were still alive, but they were not really
alive.  This legend comes from the far north.  But I never thought
they were more than a legend.
Eute: Pholtus guard us.

As night falls, the storm only builds in intensity, instead of
diminishing.  Even the solid farmhouse groans beneath the onslaught. The
wind's screech rises yet again, to something undescribable -- more a texture
than a sound. Telling stories and speaking in the house has become almost
impossible.

Rhahid: How much longer can this storm go on?
Nigil: And more importantly, how much longer can this house stand?
How the wind howls!

Suddenly the door is slammed inwards. The wind instantly fills the house,
and the roof leaps into the air and is disintigrated. The seal-oil lantern
is extinguished, but in the darkness Sapphire sees a long,
gnarled arm reach in and grab the youngest child.  The howl of the
storm drowns out the girl's scream as she is pulled outside.

Sapphire: There's a troll outside!
Rhahid: (casts Light on a rock -- a dim glow shows whipping water and air)
Skanda: (casts Daylight on her holy symbol -- a light as bright and warm as the
sun flashes into existence, but even it is dimmed by the storm)
Aran: I shall shlay thish beasht! (charges the door)
Ulrik and family: (cower in terror)
Eute: My daugher!
Troll: Raargh! (looms in the doorway)
Aran: Die! [cleave]
Tron: [stab]
Troll: Urk. (falls, and begins immediately to heal)

The party springs on the corpse, hacking and chopping to make sure
that it stays down.

Nigil: Where can we go? We have to get out of the storm!
Ulrik: The old barrow... west of here!

While some of the party gather their belongings and head out of the
house into the storm, Tron and Rhahid drench the still-twitching body
of the troll in oil and set it on fire.  They quickly search outside
for the girl who was taken, but see only a puddle of blood.

Aran: Follow me!

The paladin staggers drunkenly around the corner of the house and
comes face to face with a troll eating a still-living sheep.

Troll: Mmfghlh?
Sheep: Baaa?
Aran: Die!
Nigil: Jola, wait here! (runs forward) Aran! I am with you!

Suddenly another, larger troll appears at the limit of the light.  She
is clearly a matriarch among trolls.  Upon her head is a circlet of
black metal.

Female Troll: (mutters something that still manages to carry through the wind)
Skanda: (shouts something in the same language and makes a rude gesture)
Norel: (shouts) You speak Troll?
Skanda: No, she speaks perfect Ancient Flan.

The female troll tries to cast a spell at the party, but it apparently
fails.

Nigil: I felt a wave of doom -- but shook it off.
Norel: Get her!
Skanda: No, wait. 

Skanda tightly grips her holy symbol and says a single word. The female trolls looks
up at her, surprise registering in the in-human face, and then suddenly collapses.

Skanda: It will not last! Quickly!

Norel, Skanda and Sapphire leap forward, quickly hacking the motionless female troll into
pieces. Nigil and Aran have finished with their own troll.

Nigil: Burn them up!

He and Aran grab the male troll and toss it over the wall onto the
already-burning troll inside the house.

Rhahid: I want that circlet!  It must be magical, I know it!

The circlet appears to be made of iron and is actually grown into the
troll's head.  There is writing on it.  Rhahid has to cut the circlet
free with his dagger.  Skanda empties half a bucket of oil on the
troll and they burn this body too.  Then the party continues on to the
barrow.  Bundled together and sometimes crouching, sometimes crawling,
they occasionally see trolls at the edge of their light, but the trolls
do not seem eager to attack.  After a rough hike through the storm, they
climb up a small hill, and see a narrow opening in front of them in the ground.

The party quickly climbs down and finds themselves inside an ancient
tomb.  The howl of the wind is instantly muted and they are able to
talk.  They find themselves in a large stone chamber with a ceiling
about twelve feet high.  Taking up most of the room is a longship of
ancient design.  Inside the longship they can see bones and the glint
of gold.  On the floor is a sheep skeleton.  Several stone passages lead
out of the room.

Ulrik: One of my sheep fell down here a few months ago. (indicates a
sheep skeleton) The frost must have opened up the top of the chamber.
This was the best shelter I can think of.  We'll be safe in here
unless the island sinks.
Eute: Oh! My daughter is dead! (sobs)
Tron: Even if we had brought our treasure off the ship, we still would
have lost it.

Rhahid is examining the circlet he took off of the troll.

Rhahid: Hmm, this has writing on it in ancient Flan.  It says: "The
burden of kingship is eternal".  I wonder what it means...
Tron: Don't put that thing on.
Norel: I agree, we've had enough trouble with Flan artifacts.
Rhahid: For once I agree with Tron, I'm not going to put it on. Now.
But it might have some useful powers.  I shall have to study it later.

Sapphire: I wonder why the trolls chose that moment to attack.
Ulrik: They never bothered us before. (shudders)
Rhahid: Hmmm... hah!  I have it.  Those trolls must only regenerate in
seawater.  Remember how Galoop always stayed close to the water?  The
reason they didn't bother you is that they didn't want to risk getting
killed for real.  But this storm is blowing spray across the island, and the
trolls are now able to regenerate on land.  As we saw.
Jola: So they won't come in here, right? (shivers)
Nigil: Hey, let's pull this boat apart and start a fire here, we're
all soaked and it'll do us no good to escape the storm and die of
pneumonia.
Skanda: We haven't escaped the storm yet.

TO BE CONTINUED...