Episode 3, "Damn Those Halflings!"
by J. Sage Schreiner and Matt Grossman
(c) 2000
Tron Malkaszar, a vengeful elf -- Matt Grossman
Thost, a mage from the icy north -- AJ Drexel
Ivan aka Johann, an enigmatic bard -- Ed Mikkelsen
Norel Bolderdash, a ranger of the Adri forest -- Tom Morin
Nigil Palom, a warrior from a far-distant land -- Kevin Osborn
All others -- Sage Schreiner
The heroes have finally arrived at civilization. They haven't eaten
more than a mouth full of bony rabbit for two days, and they have been
in the freezing wilderness for weeks -- and were slaves for untold
months, or even years before that. Their mouths slaver at the thought
of rich food, prepared by excellent chefs, dozens of courtesans
serving their every whim, baths in milk and honey, sophisticated
entertainment and high-culture in this mecca of civilization. Finally
they have reached a cosmopolitan place!
A burly woman in armor addresses them as they enter the keep.
Sabine: I'm Sabine. I'm the Sergeant of the Guard. Got that? If any of
you get feisty, the last thing you'll see is me kicking the chair out
from under ya -- just like that bandit we have hanging down on the
main road. Bandits are a nuisance for the caravans, and we needed to
set an example. Don't you be the next example.
Tron: Sure, sure.
Sabine: If you need someone to show you around a bit, stick your head
into the stables and give a holler. Tella will show you
around. Finally, Jadale -- you'll meet her soon enough -- is the
officer of the militia -- don't get on her bad side.
Ivan: Okay. Thanks. We won't cause any trouble.
Tron: Definitely not.
Norel: (wonders why the keep is run by women)
They enter the outer courtyard of the keep. There are a number of
wooden buildings built against the inside of the keep's stone curtain
wall.
Thost: This smells like the stable. [creeeeak]
Inside are a few riding horses, a couple cart-horses and an elderly
warhorse of some sort or other.
Ivan: Halloooo. Anyone here?
Tella: [rustle rustle] (a head pokes from the straw in the hay loft)
What? What do you want? Are you visitors?
Norel: We need someone to show us around a bit. Sabine said...
Tella: Fine. It's not like I'm doing anything interesting. Ugh. You
guys stink.
Norel: We've been traveling.
Tella: Well you stink worse than the other travelers. So where are you
guys from?
Ivan: Around. We travel.
Tella: (drily) Gosh. I never meet anyone who travels here. Oh no. On
your right here is the blacksmith, Rafe. I have a ummm... uhhhhh well
I like one the boys. Y'know? On the left -- in this row of buildings
we have a scribe -- Dubricus d'something or other famous -- a cobbler
-- boring guy -- a tailor -- Quince -- and a tanner --
Jocelyn. They're ummm... well, they don't sleep alone. Y'know?
Thost: Cool. A guided tour of the red light district.
Tella: That's the quartermaster over there. He can sell anything you
can possibly imagine, unless it's not in his store. That was a
joke. Okay, that's the locksmith. He's a halfling. He's taught me some
cool stuff, y'know like, uhmmmmm... Never mind. Baker and dairy there.
The party's stomachs rumble at the aroma of cheese and fresh baked bread.
Neanne and Chandry, two middle aged sisters from the bakery: No one
ever visits here, I mean never -- no one handsome any ways. We're so
happy that you're here -- you must be *so* brave and *so* strong --
please stop by! Please! We make the best cheese!
Thost: Ich.
Tron: Ich.
Johann: Ich.
Norel: Unhand me, woman.
Tella: Look, here come Rafe's sons! Don't you dare say I have a crush
on --
Jankin, a pimply faced 13 year old: Wow! Are you real warriors? Man,
you stink somethin' fierce. Where did you come from?
Kemble, a less pimply-faced 15 year old: Our uncle Henslow -- he was a
soldier in the war, the last one -- and he knew all sorts of
things. Like 'bree-yark!' it means, 'I surrender' in
Goblin. 'Bree-yark! Breeeeee-yark!' Heh heh. Can I touch your sword?
Norel: No.
Tron: Your uncle is wrong. Orc is close enough to goblin that I know
that.
Jankin: Are you going to the caves? There's tons of treasure
there. I'm sure of it.
Thorlech, an old man with a string of smoked fish: Don't listen to
those brats. There ain't no treasure left in that place. It was
cleared out years ago -- when I was still a boy.
Tron: Say, that fish looks edible. (flips a coin and snags a few of
the fish as a snack)
Tella: This is the Green Man Inn -- it's also a tavern.
Thost: Thanks for showing us around.
Tella: (clears her throat)
Tron: (flips Tella a piece of silver)
Tella: Gosh. Real generous of you guys.
They approach the inn, with but one thought; a hot meal and sleep.
Wilf, the Inn Keep: Hello, hello! Welcome! Will you be -- yuch! -- you
smell awful! Passing through or here for awhile?
Ivan: Awhile.
Calista, his wife: [whisper whisper]
Wilf: Ah yes... free baths, on the house. I'll have our serving wench
bring you a little something to tide you over: So where are you from?
What are you names?
Ivan: I am Johann of Ratik, and these are my compatriots.
Wilf: I see. Jess, we have visitors!
Johann, formerly Ivan: Thank you.
Jess, the attractive serving wench: I'm not a wench. I just bring you
stuff. Now what do you want? And don't even think about that! If
that's what you're looking for, talking to Missy. She's our one-legged
whore. Are you really from Ratik? I heard that's a pretty neat
place.
Johann: Uh, yeah, it is.
After eating a snack or two, drinking more then is probably healthy,
and taking long, hot baths, the heroes finally stumble down to the
common room. They are shaved and semi-presentable in the Inn Keeps
loaned clothing; loaned, "cause we don't have lice at this
establishment". They stuff themselves on fresh bread, rich stew,
mutton, chicken and ale.
A one-legged woman approaches their table.
Missy: I can give you whatever you desire. Unless it's wrapping me
legs around you. Har!
Jess: She can give you a dozen different ways to have your dingus fall
off.
Missy: Sod off, wench.
Cob the hunter: [Slide-Thump] Snoooorrrrrkkkkkkechrrrrrrrthbbbbbtttttt
Jess: Don't mind him -- that's Cob. He comes to town every week or two
and gets soused. He starts drinking at noon. When he runs out of
money, he goes back into the woods.
Tron: Do you have anything a little stiffer? Errr... I mean
alcohol. [hic]
Jess: Coming right up.
A burly man is also drinking in the inn. After sizing the party up,
he comes over and introduces himself. He speaks Aerdi with a strong
Keoish accent.
Nigil: I'm looking for traveling companions. I had a disagreement with
a man I was traveling with previously. Two swords are thrice as good
as one...
Tron: Whu... how many? My name is Tron.
Thost: What do you do, Nigil?
Nigil: I, uhhhh, travel.
Tron: Do you [hic] kill orcs and shtuff?
Nigil: Yes.
Skanda: More importantly, how do you do it?
Nigil: With my sword, of course. [shing]
Norel: Ninety-nine orcs speared to the wall, take one down and pass it
around. Ninety-nine orcs speared to the wall! [hic]
Tron: Ninety-eight orcsh walled to the shpear, take one down and where
wush I again?
Thost: Jess -- do you know anything about these caves?
Jess: Uhhhm. Not really. Maybe you should ask Devereau, the
Castellan. All I know is that they're really old. I heard there was
some kind of temple in them, or something. But I don't know. There are
some dogmen that live on the hill south of river. There are probably
orcs in the cave.
Tron: Orcsh!? [shwing] Where orcsh! Lemme at 'em! [hic]
Thorlech, the old fish monger: (comes over) Listen here, boys. There
ain't nuthin in those caves but trouble. We don't want you stirring up
trouble. (takes a swig of Tron's drink)
Tron: Huh!? (swings and decks the old man)
Thorlech: Ooog. [thump]
Missy: Oh, you're manly. Beating an old man.
Jess: You've killed him! I'm cutting you off!
Tron: The man drinked my tush. Tushed my drink. Fumfink.
Jess: But how could you? He's old and harmless.
Thost: The man touched his drink. And hey -- don't cut me off! I
didn't hit anyone.
Nigil: How dare that low-life drunk bother my companions and I. If
anyone should be thrown in jail, it's him.
Johann: Sooooo... how about a song, everyone?
Thorlech: oooooog. (spits out bloody teeth and spends the rest of
evening dribbling blood and looking pained)
Cob: Snukth! Ung. Neeeshmore alkyhall. Mmmmmm thash better. [thump]
Johann narrates a long and humorous epic poem; the story of Hoissa, a
thin but sharp thief who tricks a gullible, evil warrior into fighting
and killing a dragon -- and dying in the process. Hoissa then frees
the maiden and is rewarded richly for his cunning. It is clearly of
northern Suel background; like many such stories, cunning proves more powerful
than brawn. Johann describes the maiden as something like Jess -- she
blushes and serves him up a free round of something nice. Two gloomy
looking brothers in the corner barely look up for the song.
The following morning...
Tron: Tella said you were a "locksmith" and so we wondering if you
might want to buy this jewelry. It's old and probably pretty
valuable. (He makes a few barely noticeable 'signs' with his hands --
the signs appear to be returned by Mouse).
Mouse the Halfling Locksmith: Ehhhh... it looks okay. I'd give you
50 silver cash, but I'm not too excited.
Tron: That doesn't seem like much. They're not hot. We just need
money.
Mouse: I'm on the level. Otherwise you might try Mosely. He's the
quartermaster, across the way. He might be willing to give you credit
on 'em.
They cross the square and talk to the quartermaster...
Mosely: Greetings, travelers. How can I serve you?
Norel: We have these circlets -- here. They're valuable
antiques. Would you give us credit for them and take them on
consignment?
Mosely: All right. I'll give you 100 silver worth of credit for each... so
that's 1100 silver, credit.
Tron: We need stuff. I have a list... let's see 40 lbs of dried,
prepared rations, 2 long bows, 3 suits of chainmail, a long sword, a
--
Mosely: Sorry -- no weapons here. Or not too much, anyway. You'll have
to talk to Devereau for weapons. Devereau will honor the credit I give
you -- we'll work it out between us.
Johann: Your prices are steep.
Mosely: I apologize. But it can be difficult this far out. We're lucky
that we're on the caravan route from Stringen to Shalister's keeps, or
we'd get even less.
They purchase most of what they need, then head through the
inner gatehouse and across the common to the Keep itself. A young
woman in chainmail is sitting on the steps sharpening a sword.
Thost: You must be Jadale.
Jadale, militia Lieutenant: I am. [shweet shweet]
Norel: We're here to see Devereau. Mosely said he would have weapons
that we could buy.
Jadale: That he will. [shweet shweet] Go on up. Top of the stairs
They head up.
Jadale: [shweet shweet]
Devereau is a worn looking man of about 50 years old. He has a strong
hand shake and a pronounced limp. In the corner is a powerful looking
longbow and a dozen ash shafts.
Devereau: Greetings.
Norel: We need weapons.
Nigil: We're going to explore the caves -- we'd also like to know what
you can tell us about the caves.
Devereau: Well, first things first. The caves are about five or six
miles down the road. When you cross the Goblin Water (there's a
bridge), turn left and follow the stream up into the valley -- that's
all there is to it. As far as what's up there -- I don't know. We've
had bandits harassing caravans, and they may be located there. I
believe there are also orcs.
Thost: Say, you don't offer a bounty, do you?
Devereau: As a matter of fact, I do. 20 silver for the head of any bandit;
100 silver for any of the leaders. If you bring in the heads of any
particularly fearsome looking creatures, I'll reward you according to
the threat posed.
Nigil: What else can you tell us?
Devereau: Not a lot. I've only been there a few times and it's been
many years. The caves were cleared by a band of adventurers, much like
yourselves, some score of years ago -- but I think they have been
re-inhabited. Now, what can I get you from the armory?
The warriors are soon deep in discussion with the castellan.
Johann: Hmmm... this is dull. I think I'll go talk to the scribe. I
could use a spell book. This bear skin I'm using as a spell-book is
getting smudged. [tromp tromp tromp] Hmmm... doesn't look like anyone
is awake. [pound pound rattle rattle]
Dubricus the Scribe: Whasshit?! Fire! Oh -- wait -- sorry. Coming!
[yawn]
Johann: Good morning.
Dubricus: Good morning (Rubbing his messy hair). You must be with
those travelers that I heard about last night. Up late and all with a
girly. My name's Dubricus Torquann -- yes, those Torquanns. What can I
do for you?
Johann: Well... I was wondering if perhaps you might know anything of
the wizardly arts -- perhaps a few charms? I must admit -- I'm looking
for a few odds and ends...
Dubricus: I might spell a bit. I am scribe after all. What sorts of
'odds and ends'?
Johann: Perhaps you have very high-quality ink and paper?
Dubricus: I just might. Or, if you'd like, I have an extra
spell-book. I bought it off of someone passing through -- it's empty
of course, but it is off sufficient quality. I paid a good price --
I'll sell it to you for fifteen hundred silver -- less than it would
cost you elsewhere.
Johann: Uhhh... that's a lot of money.
Dubricus: The Torquanns are a generous family. If you give me
three-hundred silver down I'll loan you the rest for the book and only
charge 10% interest per week. Compounding. If you fail to pay me
back... well... I may not get along well with my family, but they
*are* my family.
Johann: That's heinous usury! I’d expect that of a halfing, not a
Torquann.
Dubricus: You've been in town a day. You are in an exceedingly
dangerous line of work.
Johann: Well... I know a spell that causes noises in the distance --
handy for distracting attackers and the like.
Dubricus: Hmmmm... that sounds worth while. I'll knock three-hundred
off the price of the spell book.
Johann: Only three hundred! Are you kidding? Pshaw. I'll pass.
Dubricus: Your decision.
Johann leaves in a huff.
Johann: (speaking to himself) Hmmm.... I think I'll see if I can start
my own scribe business around here. See how he likes that. I'll start
by writing that Jess a flattering poem... she can't read, but perhaps
she can show it around a bit to people... and they'll use me as a
scribe instead of this Dubricus fellow.
Johann then heads towards the keep's chapel. It is a small simple
building, although the east facing wall is take up with a large
rosette window that shows a deity in white with a heavy cudgel:
St. Cuthbert. The deity's face is honest and open, but also shows a
fierce and unwavering discipline, and intolerance for those who cannot
discipline themselves. Johann steps into the chapel. It is lit by the
morning light pouring through the large and beautiful glass window. A
man is sweeping between pews.
Johann: Hello?
Abercrombie the Priest: Hello. (ceases sweeping and stands)
Johann: You are the priest? -- May I sweep for you?
Abercrombie: I am. Yes.
Johann: I had a few questions... a heavy conscience, father. While
traveling, we came upon a small shrine -- or tomb -- I'm not sure --
to the god Rao. It had been badly desecrated by a horrid creature. We
slew the creature and took away from that place holy symbols -- these
carving here -- and alms that had been left.
Abercrombie: I see.
Johann: What can I do? I wish to return these holy symbols.
Abercrombie: There was, at one time, a
not flourish under Ivid, and Rao has never been popular in these
lands. I would suggest Chathold in Almor, but -- but not a brick
stands on another, and the ground is salted for many miles around. I
would say -- perhaps somewhere in Nyrond.
Johann: Oh. That's a long ways.
Abercrombie: Aye. Anyway, don’t worry about it too much. Cuthbert
deserves your attention, not Rao.
Johann: There was one other thing. We have a child -- a foundling. Is
there a family close by that might want to take her in?
Abercrombie: Not that I know of. Perhaps a merchant might take this
child to a hospice in Edge Field. Until then, you might try leaving
her with the Lum families -- they live in the inner gatehouse. They
have so many kids that one more will hardly be noticed.
Johann: Thank you.
Abercrombie: Wait. One other thing. I noticed that your companion --
the woman -- has made herself a holy symbol of the god Pholtus. I have
no love for this god, as my master does not. But know that Pholtus is
banned -- on pain of death -- in all of what was once the Great
Kingdom. I warn you for her sake and for yours.
Johann: I understand.
Abercrombie: By diligence serve Cuthbert.
A little later...
All: [clank clatter crash]
Norel: We finished shopping.
Tron: We have stuff.
Nigil: Where did your equipment go? How did you lose it?
Norel: It uhhhhh... got lost. In a snow storm.
Tron: Yeah. It fell off and we didn't notice.
Johann: It's a long story... [blah blah blah blah]
Thost: Look, another minstrel. I mean bard. You have competition,
Johann.
Johann: I don't look at it as competition, but a chance to learn.
A man in foppish dress is playing the lute in the common room of the
inn.
Sir Robin: Hello, brigands, all! Hey-hey, ho-ho, I'm your friendly
neighborhood strummer-of-the-lute. Greetings gold searchers!
Johann: Greetings, friend.
Sir Robin: My, what have we here? You look like you might try to turn
a tune now and then. With my brilliant aid, you might be able to
produce something decent now and then. Perhaps I shall try and teach
you...
Johann spends a week learning from Sir Robin of Sunndi. Sir Robin,
while irritating, conceited and self-centered, does have a good
repertoire of poems, jokes, songs and stories; a quick tongue; many
anecdotes about fighting off bandits, saving maidens and so forth. He
has a tendency to turn his biting wit on the yokels of the keep --
causing cruel laughter from time to time. But he seems unconscious as
to the distress he causes the target of his wit. From him, Johann
learns the following:
* A epic song about Osson and his raid from Chathold all the way
across the great kingdom "Always choosing to attack - no matter how
long the odds." A son of the Prelacy of Almor, young general of a tiny
army in the face of great might. He would false-retreat and then
slaughter the disorganized pursuers - a long series of victories. Lost
in the long-retreat home.
* Many stories and fables about Sunndi - an high-Olven kingdom far to
the south ("It's where I'm from.") Stories include King Hazendel,
battles with "Frogmen" and their leader, "Wasty," and legends of this
kingdom and its gods.
* A poem about the conflict between Nerull and Wee-Jas to scare the
children. "Yes, they are both gods of death - but you see, they're
very different. One, Wee-Jas, is the god of the death that normal
people die - like your grandparents, or when one of you plays to close
to the well . . . The other, Nerull, is god of the death that
murderers or bad people die - and of rotted bodies (yes, just like the
corpse down by the road) and other foul things. They have often
fought, because their two realms overlap. This is the story . . ."
* A satirical poem describing Overking Xavener as a spineless wimp -
but lauding how much better this is then Ivid! ("Wrote that one
myself")
After a week of resting and preparation, the heroes are ready to
venture to these "caves." They are sick of Sir Robin and his
self-centered prattling -- the chance for a little fresh air is reward
into itself. Skanda's half-orc child,
families with a promise of one copper a day. The heroes have little
trouble following Devereau's directions. On the way there, they idly
jest of taking over the keep themselves... Finally they come out of
the wintery woods into a narrow valley. Foreboding cave entrances can
be seen around them.
Tron: Over there -- I saw movement.
Norel: I saw it too. It must have been a guard of some sort -- they
know we're here.
Nigil: That looks like a good place to start as any.
Tron: I'll sneak in and look out for traps.
Nigil: I'll light a torch.
Skanda: Me too.
Tron approaches one of the cave entrances and sees a small, doglike
humanoid seated just inside it. Tron fires two arrows at the kobold
and gets no reaction. He finally hits it with his third shot, and it
does not move.
Tron: Killed it with one shot. It must have been sleeping. Ok
everyone, let's go!
They approach the cave.
Tron: Be careful, there's a pit in front of us that's been covered
over by... some sort of paper.
Thost: I have chalk to mark it. [scribble]
Tron retrieves his arrows. The "guard" turns out to have been dead
for some time. As Tron pulls his arrow out of the mummified kobold
corpse, strange grubs leap from the corpse and burrow into the
elf's arm.
Tron: Huh? Ahhhhhggg!!!! Get it off! Get it off!!! Ahhhhggg!!! It's
burrowing!!! Ahhhhhhgggg!!!! Help!!!! Oh, oh, get it off -- it's in
my arm somewhere!!!! Help!!!!
Johann: Hold him! Skanda, hand me the torch.
Tron: Oh gods, it hurts, it hurts! Ahhhhhggggg!!!
Johann: (holds torch under Tron's arm)
Tron: Oh gods, it burns, it burns! Ahhhhhgggg!!!
The flame drives the grubs out of the elf's arm and they fall into the
flame and are burned up.
Johann: I think you're going to be okay.
Thost: What's that smell?
Tron:
Skanda: By all the stars -- blisters recede, burns cool -- Pholtus,
heal this elf that he might see your glory.
Johann: Errrr... sorry about that.
Tron: [pant pant pant]
Skanda: He'll live.
Tron: I think I'll burn this thing. (dumps oil on the kobold corpse)
There might be more of those grubs in it.
Thost: No! Stop! They'll know we're here.
Tron: Uhhhhh... okay. Good point.
Thost: Hey, look, enormous oil drenched spider webs. I'll set 'em on
fire. [wooooof]
Nigil: Brilliant.
Tron: Well, might as well burn this parasite infected corpse. Can't
add that much smoke...
They head into the cave, which climbs up into the hill. Tron takes
point. Suddenly, he sees a huge boulder rolling down the corridor
towards them.
Tron: A boulder!!! Run for your lives!!!
Norel: Run!!! Everyone run!!!!
Tron and Nigil leap to the side, but the Norel trips and the boulder
rolls over him and comes to a stop in front of the cave entrance.
Johann: Norel Bolderdash has been dashed by a boulder. No one could
live through that.
Thost: Why is the boulder resting *on* the pit trap cover?
Norel: I must be dead. I must be. (stands up) Or maybe not.
There is a Norel-shaped indentation in the "boulder". It appears to
have been made from paper-mache.
Thost: Because it's, um, made of paper. The same stuff is pit-cover is
made of.
Norel: Let me at the bastards.
Nigil: Okay. Let's keep going.
They continue along the passage and come into a larger cave. As they
enter it, sticky syrup is poured on them by kobolds standing on a
ledge above and behind the entrance. Six other kobolds leap forward
and attack with spears.
Tron: Yaaaa!!! (swings at kobold and misses)
Kobolds: Yikip um igak! (all swing and miss)
Norel: Urrg. (Hacks a kobold in half)
Tron: [ahploik] (runs a kobold through) Ha ha!
The kobolds on the ledge pelt the party with rocks.
Norel: [bonk] Agh. (hacks another kobold]
Nigil: Let me at 'em, elf! (shoves Tron)
Tron: Wh -- wh -- whooaaa (falls over on a kobold)
Kobold: (closes eyes and holds out a sharpened stick)
Tron: (impales himself) Urk. (spits up blood)
Nigil: (whacks head off a kobold) Take that!
Thost: Hmmm... three rock throwing kobolds up on that ledge... Eat
fire!!! [whooooosssshh]
Kobold #1: Snap! [thump]
Kobold #2: Crackle! [thump]
Kobold #3: Pop! [thump]
Nigil: One's getting away!
Tron: [cough hack choke]
Skanda: [sigh] By Pholtus, heal this elf. Again.
Norel: Sticky...
Thost: Here's some water to help clean you off a bit.
Johann: Okay. Let's search through these rags... it looks like they
were chewing sticks to make some sort of mush. That must be how they
make that paper.
Nigil: I found some gold!
Norel: Okay. Ready. Where do we go from here?
They search the area. There are several small openings, too small
even Tron to fit through. They search further and find a fake wall,
made of paper-mache. They cut it open, and find a passageway. On the
left is a door opening into a cave. In the cave is an enormous pile
of gold. Sitting on top of the pile is a large egg. It has a soft,
leathery surface.
Thost: Oooo!
Nigil: Yeah!
Thost: There's an egg on the top of the treasure. Watch out for mom!
Norel: It could be dangerous.
Tron: Scary... A little closer... A little closer.... [splak] Ha!
Killed it!
Skanda: Errrr... it was an egg.
Tron: Well, it's dead now. I'll hack it open... Some sort of
creature. Small. Dead now.
Thost: A dragon? A dragonette? A wyvern? I'll take a piece of shell
for further examination. I think it might have been valuable. Really,
really valuable.
Tron: These coins are fake! They're not gold at all -- just painted
copper!
Norel: What happens when mom comes back for it?
Tron: We can blame it on Sir Robin. Speaking of --
Distant Voice: Halooooo... is anyone there?
Johann: I'll go see what he wants. [tromp tromp tromp] We're over
here...
Sir Robin: Oh boy! I've been looking for you all morning. You can't
imagine how tired and muddy I am.
Johann: (To himself) Dang. Maybe I should have just let him keep
going...
Sir Robin: It's good to see everyone. Shall I play a tune? It's so
dreary. [begins to strum]
Thost: I bet a fellow like you can't be sneaky.
Sir Robin: Oh yeah? Watch me.
Skanda: Pholtus, save us.
They continue to explore the kobold's cave.
Tron: Hmmm... a little bit further down the hall way... I've found a
room. There's murals on the wall.
Thost: It looks like some sort of giant kobold squishing things.
Skanda: It looks like their god -- these runes spell "Kurtulmuk" --
and there are arrows pointing through those doors.
Norel: It couldn't possibly be a kobold god. [crunch]
He bashes the doors open. The party is confronted by half-a-dozen more
kobolds with javelins. They throw the javelins, and one spears Nigil.
Nigil: Ugh.
Norel: Kill 'em all and let their god sort 'em out! Yahhhh! [hacks one
down]
Tron: Get some! [hack]
Nigil: Die! [chop]
Norel: That guy ran right between my legs! Two of 'em are getting away!
Thost: I got it. [whooooosh] Dang it, they both lived.
Johann: Not for long! (throws daggers)
Kobold: Ack. [thump]
Norel: I'll get the last one. They have short legs.
Kobold: EEeeeeeeeekkkkkk!
Norel: [slice]
Kobold: [shploik] (slams into far wall and sticks)
Nigil: That's all of 'em. Hmmmm... looks like some kind of gold
colored paint. And more painted copper pieces.
Tron finds a secret door, but can't figure out how to open it.
Norel: Allow me. UUrrrrrrrggggggg. (he wrenches the door open with
brute force) We can get through. Just.
Johann: It looks unfinished -- more like a natural cave.
The door leads into a strange maze of unfinished caves. They wander
for about two hours. At one point they find the skeleton of a dwarf,
clasping a long-empty water-bottle.
Nigil: I hear movement! Behind us!
Tron: I'll hide and wait for 'em.
Johann: (whispering) Okay. We'll sneak down a little further.
Sir Robin: Now would be a great time for a cheerful ditty. [strum strum]
Thost: Shhhhhh!!!
The elf waits in hiding for several minutes, but nothing happens. He
rejoins the party.
Tron: It must have heard us.
Thost: Let's keep going. I'll mark with chalk. I'll mark high up on
the ceiling in case those damn kobolds are trying to wipe it off. That
oughta make them think.
An hour passes...
Tron: We're back where we started. How did that happen? My map can't
be right.
Thost: I think it is. You see -- like this.
Tron: Oh.
Johann: Why don't we call it a night. If we leave now, we can be back
at the keep in time for a warm dinner and a soft bed.
All: Ooooooo... Okay.
Sir Robin: No reason we should spend the night here. You won't let me
play anything.
Skanda: Shaaaa. As if.
The party walks down the creak to the road and heads for the keep. It
has begun to get dark, and as it is the dead of winter, it's quite
chilly. A wolf howls. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice interrupts the
reverie of the heroes.
#1: Give us yer money!
#2: Or I'll fill ya full of holes!
Norel: (whispering) Halflings -- two of them.
Johann: (utilizing his acting skill). Ho ho ho... very funny my little
men. Give us *your* money and we won't gut you like fish.
#1: (whispers)
#2: (whispers)
Tron: They're running away -- let's get 'em!
Norel: Don't let them run!
The party charges into the woods after the diminutive bandits.
Unfortunately they quickly lose track of them.
Skanda: It's dark in these woods...
Nigil: Ow!!! There's an arrow stuck in my thigh!!!
Johann: I think it came from over there!
Sir Robin: Ugh. I think I got pine-sap on my panache. Can we all slow
down a little please? It's much too hard to keep the mud off when were
traipsing around in the dark woods...
Tron: And there's one over there as well! Whoa -- that was close.
Norel: They're running again... damn it -- they're hard to track in
the dark. The snow is too hard, and there's not enough of it left. I
think we've lost them.
Finally, the heroes make it back to the keep. With much nudging and
winking, they all agree to meet up at 11 am outside the inn.
Sir Robin: 11 -- that sounds good to me. I hate having bags under my
eyes -- they're so unbecoming. It's good that you've all seen some
sense.
The following morning, all rise well before dawn, and are on the road
back to the caves even as the sun just begins to crest the
horizon. There is no sign of Sir Robin. Before entering another cave,
they spend several hours scouting the small valley.
Nigil: How about that cave over there?
Thost: It's as good as any...
Tron sneaks towards the cave and hears voices. They sound like
humans. He sees three humans playing a card game inside the cave.
They appear to be guards, but they are not paying attention.
Guard 1: Ha! I trump your unicorn with (indistinct)
Guard 2: (indistinct) ... slut Jadale. Raise ya (indistinct)
Guard 3: (indistinct) ... sister, too. I call your hand.
The elf sneaks back to the party.
Tron: This must be the base of those bandits Devereau mentioned.
Norel: Excellent. Let's sneak up and ready ourselves. (readies his bow)
Nigil: I'm ready.
They get into position around the cave...
Guard 1: I hear some -- sounds like --
Norel: [twang hissss thunk]
Guard 1: Urk.
Guard 2: Sounds like "urk?"
Guard 3: Uhhhh... It sounds like what?
Johann: (Steps in and throws two daggers)
Guard 2: Urk.
Guard 3: "Urk?"
Tron: [twang hissss thunk]
Guard 3: Ohhh... Urk.
Tron: Okay -- some money on the table. Real gold, this time.
Thost: These playing cards look nice. I'll take 'em in case they are valuable.
The guard room leads onto a large room filled with tables and
equipment, evidently the base of the bandits. There are several other
bandits there, eating and drinking.
Nigil: They don't look ready. I think we can get the jump on them.
Tron: I hear Sir Robin again.
Sir Robin: Hallloooooo... is anyone there?
Thost: Let him wander.
Norel: Let's use the same plan. Surprise them.
Nigil: Okay.
Tron: Okay.
Johann: Okay.
Norel: Ready? [twang hissssss thunk]
Bandit 1: Ack.
Tron: [twang hisssss thunk]
Bandit 2: Aaaaahhhhh!!! Oh it hurts it hurts it hurts!!! Help! Alarm! Wake up!
Johann: (throws two daggers)
Bandit 3: (clutching at chest) Ooooooo...
Nigil: (charges into room and attacks bandit 4)
Bandit 4: Not so fast! (attacks Nigil and gets in a solid blow)
The fighters charge into the room and melee the surviving bandits, who
defend themselves well. Suddenly -- from the next room -- a dozen
more bandits charge to the attack. Arrows fly. The party is
surrounded by bandits and in dire straits.
Norel: Argh -- that hurts! Medic!
Tron: Let's get 'em! Yaaaaa!!! [hack]
The bandits swarm around the party.
Johann: Take that! [stab]
Bandit 5: Agh...
Nigil: Yaaaa!!!! [chop]
Bandit 6: My arm... oh my arm, my arm...
Bandits 7: Keep at 'em boys!
The bandits swing wildly and get in a few blows, but things are
clearly going against them. All the same, they show uncharacteristic
bravery, and fight on with determination. Several more go down.
Skanda: Pholtus, show your generosity and heal this unbeliever that he
might see your glory.
Norel:Thanks. I feel much better. [whack]
Bandit 8: Death comes...
Nigil: Oh yeah? [hack] You think that's something? [stab]
Bandit 9: My eye! My eye!
Tron: Grrrrrrr. [gut]
Bandit 10: Ohhh...
Johann: Ha! [poke]
Bandit 11: Aggggh!!!
Suddenly two new bandits, a man and a woman (both looking somewhat
unkempt) run into the room and attack the party from behind.
Bandit 14: (stabs Thost in the back)
Thost: Ack. Light... fading... pain... (falls)
Bandit 16: (joins the fight)
Skanda: Thost has been stabbed from behind! We've got problems!
The bandits attack with renewed vigor. One manages to cut Johann's
arm badly. When he flinches, the other stabs him in the chest)
Johann: (collapses limply)
Skanda: I can't heal Thost -- this guy is tough (swings and misses)
Bandit 14: You bet I am! (swings and misses)
Norel: And stay down! [slice]
Bandit 12: Urk.
Tron: You too! [cuts throat]
Bandit 13: Blub.
Skanda: (Swings her heavy falchion and hits the bandit) Gotcha!
Bandit 14: Argh -- pain. I can still run! (Turns and runs)
Tron: Not so fast. (A chase ensues)
Skanda: Pholtus -- stop the exiting life blood of this mage.
Thost: (stops bleeding)
Bandit 15: I surrender!
Norel: (ties up bandit 15)
Nigil: (breathes heavily, wipes bloody sword on a dying bandit's clothes)
Norel: (wipes sweat and blood off his forehead)
Johann: (bleeds)
Meanwhile Tron chases the bandit outside the cave. The bandit turns
to fight, realizing that he cannot escape. He and Tron swing
simultaneously.
Bandit 14: Damn.
Tron: Ha!
Bandit 14: Oh, the horror. (falls)
Skanda: Where's Johann? -- oh! He's bleeding, badly. He's almost
dead. (bandages feverishly)
Johann: (stops bleeding)
They interrogate the surviving bandit.
Norel: Where are your leaders?
Bandit 15: I don't know anything.
Tron: Let me try.
Norel: Is that a good idea?
Tron: Where are your leaders? If you tell us, I'll let you go.
Bandit 15: (decides he believes Tron) Down there (points). There are
two. Now can I go?
Tron: Yes. (cuts bonds)
Bandit 15: I'm outta here. (runs)
Norel: I can't believe you didn't just kill him.
Tron: D’oh!
Skanda: My god says that we must keep our word. You did the right
thing, Tron.
Tron: Bah.
Tron and Norel sneak down the passage indicated by the captured bandit. There
is a door to the left and a door to the right.
Norel: I'll bash the one on the right. Urrrrrr... [crunch]
Tron: What's this?
They are confronted by a comfortably furnished room. Deep plush
carpets hide the stone-floor. Tastefully chosen, miniature furniture
is neatly arranged. Eight well made beds line one wall. Eight pipes
line a shelf near the cozy iron stove, and a bag of pipe weed hangs
close by them.
Norel: Damn those halflings!!!
Tron: I'll investigate... Ow! I stepped on something! A caltrop. Screw
this. Let's go check out the other door.
Norel: Urrrrggg... [crack splinter] Hmmm... lots of clothes -- human
sized. Stuff for both a man and a woman.
Tron: But no one's here. Look -- there's a secret door behind this
tapestry. That's the last of them. I think we're okay for now.
The two return to the common area where they fought their battle. They
finally have time to slow their breathing and look around them. More
than a dozen hacked and torn bodies litter the room. Blood is pooled
and splattered everywhere. A severed hand soaks in spilled mead. The
smell of death is on the tongues of the victors. Someone, mortally
wounded, moans weakly.
Norel: Maybe we should stay here the night. We're not in good shape.
Skanda: I vote for trying to make it back to the keep.
Tron: I vote for staying. We can defend this place if need be. Johann
and Thost will be too much to carry.
Nigil: I think we should stay, too. I hear Sir Robin again.
Tron: Huh.
Norel: Maybe we should invite him in after all... we're not doing too
well.
Nigil: I'll get him.
The heroes begin to make plans for spending the night in the wreckage
of their battle. Thost and Johann lie senseless. Night will fall
soon.
TO BE CONTINUED...