Letter Home

Dear Father,
Although I know you disapprove of my leaving home, I thought I’d write you this letter.
I have made some new friends. True they are very different from my friends back home, but they are good people. I actually owe my life to Eolar and Bodush.
My training is going well. I have learnt to track and fight a bit and I’m pretty quick with a bow. I could be better though. My friends often depend upon me to protect them. Perhaps I should enrol in some more direct fighting classes?
Give Mother a kiss from me.
Your loving son,
Mendez.

Treasure - The Darkening Wood

Finally, here is the official list of treasure from the last 2-part adventure.

Part I (Mendez, Eolar, Telfis, Kruddo, Wer)

From the ogres:

• Silver coins worth 100gp, 6 gems worth 60gp, Jeweled Shortsword scabbard worth 400gp (not magic), Candelabra worth 460gp
• Dust of Dryness (4 doses) (Claimed by Telfis)
• Longsword +1 (Light) (Claimed by Mendez)

No treasure from the orcs.
From the Barghest:

• 5 gems worth, 400gp, 400gp, 400gp, 300gp and 200gp
• Perl of Power (2nd Level Spells) (once per day recall any spell already prepared and cast)

From the Aranea:

• 800gp
• Oil of the Shillelagh (club or quarterstaff becomes +1 to hit/damage, and does damage 2 sizes larger. Duration 1 minute)

Part II - (Mendez, Eolar, Telfis, Kruddo, Bodush, Wer)

Nothing from the zombies.
From the necromancer:

• 400gp, 6 gems 100gp each
• Cloak of Resistance (+2 on all saving throws)
• Magical Heavy Mace +1 to hit/damage
• Studded Leather +1

What you managed to grab from the mummy's tomb:

• 1000gp worth of golden objects, 1000gp worth of gems and 1000gp worth of jewelry
• Masterwork studded leather armour
• Masterwork Thieves tools
• +2 Magical Light Steel Shield
• Scroll Remove Disease
• Scroll Searing Light
• Wand Enlarge Person - 10 charges

You found 8 Magic items, 1 oil and 2 scrolls, some other useful items and a hell of a lot of money!

Experience

	current XP		new XP	Total
Mendez	5452	3rd	1290	6742	4th	Level-up
Eolar	4670	3rd	1340	6010	4th	Level-up
Wer	3245	3rd	920	4165	3rd
Telfis	3430	3rd	1490	4920	3rd
Kruddo	1330	2nd	1390	2720	2nd
Durin	1185	2nd	0	1185	2nd
Bodush	3045	3rd	1290	4335	3rd

Burning Mummies

Incineration is good but not open burning or burn pits or burn pyres.
This is due to the potential spread of disease from smoke and emissions.
That pool of 'burning-with-elemental-flame' lava should have been enough though!
:)

Untold treasures

The sight before the brave adventurers was awesome, humbling and in no small way terrifying. With bits of decaying flesh still clinging to their clothes and the horrifying terror of demons, necromancers and ancient rotten raised corpses still clinging to their minds, the group took their courage in their hands and had made it back to the depths of the tomb underneath the tomb.
Gold and ornament fit for a god on earth had been buried with the mummy and the small band of heroes took their time making an inventory and imagining the castles and countries they could buy with this wealth.

As they counted and dreamed, they realised that things weren't right. A low rumbling had become a shaking and then a tremor struck. Greed vying with self-preservation in their minds, they grabbed what they could and ran for the jammed-open door. As they moved it seemed that the room was collapsing around and behind them. Running up the long stairs they helped each other out of the sarcophagus. It was then they realised that the tremors, getting stronger, were shaking the whole ancient building to its core. They ran out, and only once they were 100 yards away did they turn to see the temple crumble to the ground. It didn't stop there though - it was as though something was sucking it into the very depths of the earth.

Later, as they were explaining events to Elogyn and senior clerics of St. Cuthbert, they tried to describe the pool of lava once burning with elemental flame that was now just a smoking hole, and realised that the truth of what they saw would go with them to their grave.

Loading up the mule and taking stock, the group, now friends, realised that if they wanted fame and treasure, that they would need to keep searching these strange lands for adventure - for it certainly was there to be found.

Be Afraid! Be Very Afraid!

Mendez huddles in the cold dankness of the cave.
“My friends, I’m afraid. This place has the feel of dark magic.
We’ve been lucky so far. Very lucky, but I dread what foul demons we’ll encounter next.
Where is Bodush when we need him? He understands this sort of thing.
For Eolar’s sake, I’ll stay, but promise me friends that we will keep each other safe.”

Bodush' Morning

The world is a painful place for Bodush. He is used to pain, he has endured pain, he has managed to overcome both emotional and physical pain to become who he is. Still, the pain of this morning was beyond all belief. It started before he opened his eyes. It felt as if he was on a raft in the middle of a violent storm, or tumbling into a malstrom head first. Then he opened his eyes and the bright pulses of excruciating pain coming from every single little ray of sunshine hitting his face was enough to make him groan.

What the ... did he do last night? Trying to remember brings only brief flashes, images of fun and merrymaking. Yes, there was that band of mercenaries he was talking with, a friendly bunch, heavy drinkers, though. Yes, there was that drinking contest he had with that Eastern barbarian.

And....By Boccob, No! He didn't?

Bodush scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Gajarpan coiled up on top of his blanket. The relief soon faded as he met the snake's angry glare. Possibly, boasting that even his tiny familiar would be able to drink the mercenary leader under the table, was not the most inspired of moves. At least Gajarpan didn't die from alcohol poisoning.

Gajarpan suddenly uncoiled and what sounded like a small cough, followed by a stream of what looked like semi-digested mouse, came out of its mouth. Bodush looked at it for a second and then suddenly felt an urge to get rid of the content of his stomach.

Kneeling over the bucket in the corner, emptying his stomach until only yellow bile was coming up, he lifted his eyes to the sky "Why Boccob, why do I have to suffer so?". Boccob, the most uncaring of gods, was not in a very talkative mood.

Slumping down on the wooden floor, Bodush saw more flashes of the night before run in review across his mind's eye. Yes, that half-orc female. Why on earth had he thought that those protruding lower tusks were so charming? There was also the magic trick involving holding a pitcher of elven mead four feet above his head and redirecting the flow into his open mouth. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Bodush crawled back into bed, hoping that some more sleep would ease the pain somehow.

Tomorrow, he would try to figure out what his friends had planned for the future.....

Experience and new abilities

Experience totals for the yesterday's adventure up the the Aranea:

Mendez: 4072 + 1380 = 5452 ( 3rd level )
Eolar: 3290 + 1380 = 4670 ( 3rd level )
Wer: 1765 + 1480 = 3245 ( 3rd level )
Telfis: 2050 + 1380 = 3430 ( 3rd level )
Kruddo: 0 + 1330 = 1330 ( 2nd level )

This effectively means that Wer and Telfis are 3rd, and Kruddo is now 2nd level. Unfortunately only Eolar and Mendez don't advance.

You can level-up while holed up in the lair.

I now have to make the next half of the adventure a little tougher, he he he !!!

The Aranea's Lair

Following a frantic few days, almost force-marched across difficult and unfamiliar terrain, the party are finally somewhere they can rest for a few short hours. Luck has been on their side this time. Coupled with astronomically better organisation, this has meant that they have defeated everything in their path without very much trouble at all.
The Aranea lies dead - strangely it stayed in it's Goblinoid form and never transformed back into its monsterous spider form - so the party believe they have just murdered a poor little goblin.

However, on cutting down the elven tracker that was pinned to the ceiling with spider web, and feeding and healing him, they learn about the true nature of the creature. That they came away unscathed is truly a miracle.

They rest for most of the day, and decide that Wer should accompany the elf back to the camp. The others will press on through the dark woodland towards the shrine. They feel very much more rested and full of spirit and enery for the task ahead ... there must have been something pretty magical in that Elven bread!

Diary of Eolar

I'm sitting here watching the flickering candles of the altar. It was a long day and the walk through the darkness of these evil woods was exhausting. The cave belonged to an aranea we killed before. We were lucky it had no chance to change to its spider form thanks to Mendez who spotted the elf hanging from the ceiling. Although these woods are depressingly dark and dangerous I feel an overwhelming divine sensation. Since we heard the news about the shrine, I can feel the power and anger of St. Cuthbert getting stronger in me the closer we get to evil. I can feel his power in the blows of my mace while fighting and the flow of divine energy while casting. The hit against the aranea almost knocked me over! I can feel he is with us and guides us on this mission!
I'm concerned what awaits us, though! The evil powers are strong in this area and getting even stronger every step we move in closer. It will need great strength to expel evil from these lands and consecrate the shrine again. I really hope Eolgyn, who stayed at the elven outpost to congregate help, is successful!
I should get the altar together as my time as guard is almost over.
May St. Cuthbert be with us!

Bad news

Eolar is packing Meldos saddle bags and preparing to leave with the others. They spend some relaxing days high above ground in the treetops. It is always amazing how the elves combine usability and beauty in everything they are building!
His report for the chapter of St.Cuthbert is on it's way to Seawell. It was rather long as the current events called for a more detailed description of the situation.

The first thing Eolar reported on was of course the outcomes of the adventure and the information about Bailey and Skinner. He focused on the fraud by Skinner but omitted the identity of the gambler and reported him dead just in case Skinner had more influence than Eolar expected. This way prolonged problems for Mendez could be avoided.
He also mentioned the elven knowledge about healing. On the second day after their arrival, Eolar met the resident healer. The old elf had incredible knowledge and healing skills, some long forgotten in other parts of the world. Watching the old man practicing, Eolar was able to improve many of his own skills and learned much, which will sooner or later prove useful in battle.
He suggested to send a missionary to open a small outpost in the elven settlement to increase knowledge exchange and deepen the relationship to the elven churches and their clerics.

This would also play to the agreements he was able to negotiate. Following orders from his church authorities, Eolar contacted the local church of Corellon Larethian to discuss the course of action against the growing threat from the church of Gruumsh. Although the two churches eye each other very carefully, the rising number of followers of this chaotic-evil god in this part of the world induced them to consider collaborations.

Just as Eolar wanted to finish this report and hand it over to the waiting messenger, Eolgyn reached the outpost. To Eolar, who was just brought up to date about Gruumsh's activities in the elven realm, this new information was alarming. Although Eolgyn didn't have specific intelligence about the originator, the fact that this shrine was overrun showed the imminent danger imposed by the evil forces. He added the request for reinforcements to the report to reconquer the area around the shrine and told the church that he is on the way together with Eolgyn to gather more information about the aggressors.

Standing next to Meldo, he can see the messenger leave the outpost. They have to act fast!

An old friend, and some bad news

Mendez, now fully recovered from his ordeal, is spending time in one of the public clearings in the Elven outpost. He is talking with Eolar and Telfis when he spots an old friend rush into the square heading straight for him.

"Mendez! I tracked you down at last. Thanks be to St. Cuthbert for his guidance!"

Of course Mendez recognizes his friend immediately
"Elogyn! How long has it been? Last time I saw you we were all running from those `fierce' little Kobolds. What a long way we have come since then, old friend!"

Elogyn laughs uncomfortably and unnaturally briefly.

"What is wrong? You are not your cheery self today."

Elogyn looks straight at Eolar for a moment, and then turns back to Mendez.
"I bring bad news. It concerns your friend, Eolar too.
The shrine to our Lord St. Cuthbert at the foot of the Grach el-Bruhn mountains has been sacked. Some say it was desecrated and now evil eminates from that place.
I have to do something and I'm sure Eolar will feel the same, but I was hoping I could rely on some support from you and some of your friends ...
What I would give to have Takis and his bow here as well!"

"Well, what do you say? There might even be a little treasure to be had on the way!"

The Worst Goblin War Camp Ever!

Bailey trudges on. It’s been four days now. He ran out of food yesterday and his stomach is growling in protest.
Despite seeing signs of Goblins, he strides purposefully into the Goblin war camp. Huge sword in hand.
“Food!” he roars at the startled Goblin.
Unfortunately the Goblin is unable to understand his common tongue and a gibbering call to his clan brothers, summons three more Goblins to support him.
Bailey sighs deeply before cleaving the first one in two. Another one is killed before the Goblins realise what’s happening. The remaining two try to run but Bailey slashes one through the shoulder, separating its arm from its torso.
Only one Goblin manages to escape into the trees.
Bailey watches him flee, gazes around and gathers what food he can find.
He also discovers a canvas spread high over the fire with some strange fungus drying on it. Tasting a small portion, a smile spreads across his face.

Bailey’s Realisation

Bailey jogs joyously through the wood, back towards the Goblin war camp. Despite the recent attack and the loss of his quarry, he’s never felt this happy. His friend had come to save him. His friend whose name… eludes him.
Bailey stops and a deep and worrying frown returns to his forehead. The frown turns into a grimace and Bailey thrusts his head back and screams with rage.
“Curse you Sorcerer! I’ll have my revenge on you and all that stand between us.”
Bailey draws his enormous sword; turns around and heads back to the camp. He gnashes his teeth on finding it deserted.
Without the skills to track, he can’t tell which way they headed. So scavenging what he can, he starts the long, solitary trudge back to Seawell.

Izzard the Wizard

The group gather up their belongings and take what they want from the dead. It's Thesis that stands over the small, unconscious Gnome. “What shall we do with him?”
The muscular Warrior could end the Gnomes life with just a simple stamp, but it doesn’t seem right to kill him in cold blood.
The wounded Telfis limps over. “They would have killed us without a second thought, but I can’t bring myself to kill him. Not with that toad staring up at me.”
Eolar walks forward. “Killing an already unconscious creature is never a good option. We should take him with us to the elven outpost. They can decide his fate.”
Finally the Dwarf; Durin strides over. “We should kill him, but I’ll leave it up to you.”
Eolar binds up the wounds of the tiny figure and lifts him up onto his mule. The toad croaks loudly until he is lifted up beside his master.
They travel on the next day and set up camp just one more day from the Elven outpost.
In the middle of the night, the little Gnome groans and awakens. Bodush is on guard duty. Carefully he approaches the frail figure. He’s talking but it’s too faint to hear. He moves a little closer and Izzard whispers into his ear; “Thank you for sparing my life. I wasn’t truly part of that party. They hired me to help but too late did I realise what sort of people they were. I was living in constant fear that they’d kill me as soon as look at me.”
With that the Gnome lapses back into unconsciousness.
The next day after encountering the Elven guards, you are all made welcome. The elders give orders that the Gnome be taken away and although you don't think he's been killed, you never see him again.

(You made the right choice. Izzard was the only member of Bailey’s party that wasn’t evil. It’s up to you how you explain him to the Elves and if you leave him his spell book etc.)

Do-overs

Everyone now should have a better understanding of the basic mechanics of the game.
This means that some of us will have realised they may have made mistakes with skill/feat/class choices etc.
Anyone who wants to make minor corrections; now is the time to do it.
Talk to Assif and if he says it's OK; it's OK by me too.

Rest not easy, dear adventurers ...

Those who are dead are not ever gone
They are in the darkness that grows lighter

They are in the trembling of the trees
In the moaning of the woods
In the water that runs
In the water that sleeps
They are in the hut, they are in the crowd.
The dead are not dead.
Listen to things.

Trumpeting elephants hoot
In the darkening wood
Above the cursed drums,
Black night, black night!

Fear lurks in the hut
In the smoking torch
In the orphaned river
In the weary, soulless forest
In the anxious, faded trees

Black night, black night!

extract from "Sarzan" by Birago Diop

Experience!

Experience totals. (including Pirate lighthouse adventure):

Wer: 1765xp (2nd level)

Durin: 1185xp (2nd level)

Telfis: 2050xp (2nd level)

Thesis: 3051xp (3rd level)

Bodush: 3045xp (3rd level)

Eolar: 3290xp (3rd level)

Congratulations! Everyone went up a level except for poor Wer.

Treasure

From the Goblin war camp: Animal skins (total value 240 gp), Gold: 78gp, 30sp, 101cp

From the Owlbear’s victim: A complete set of ‘Half-plate’ armour, An ornate silver holy symbol of ‘Hexor’, A Morningstar of Masterworks quality, A ring worth 30gp, A small bag of gems (worth 200gp), Potion of Sanctuary, Potion of Spider climb, A scroll case one Devine spell: Meld into Stone, A scroll case with two Devine spells: Raise the Dead and Neutralise Poison.

From the Goblin revenge squad: A pouch containing 17 doses of dried mushroom powder. +4hps –2Wisdom for one hour. (2 doses within a 24 hour period requires a saving roll vs 10 or unconscious for four hours.)

Evil Party:
Baileys Backpack contained 4 rations, a waterskin, a bedroll and a blanket.

Ancona’s corpse and backpack contaned: Short sword, Short bow, Leather armour, Small wooden shield' Arrows x10, Backpack, 2x rations, a waterskin, a bedroll, a blanket. Gold: 21gp
Posion weapon oil Save vs 10 or poisoned for 1 additional damge then 1 every 12 hours until saved or dead. (4 doses left)

Reeves’ corpse and backpack: Short sword, Light cross bow, Daggers x4, Leather armour, Bolts x10, Backpack, 2 rations, a waterskin, a bedroll. a blanket. Gold: 42gp

Mortimer’s corpse and backpack: Short sword, Light cross bow, Daggers x4, Leather armour, Bolts x10, Backpack, 2 rations, a blanket. Gold: 43gp

The still living Izzard’s backpack: Daggers, Robes, Backpack, 2 rations, a waterskin, a bedroll, a blanket, A spell book. Gold: 12gp Assorted spell components.

Mendez: A bag a fine quality gems worth: 1025gp and a ‘magic’ ring!

The Elven outpost

There’s no way they can go back to Seawell with Mendez in tow. Also, considering that he’s given the group the bag of gems and ‘magical ring’, there seems little incentive.
Keeping an eye open for the murderous Bailey, the adventurers make their way towards to Elven outpost.
It takes them a further two days, but thanks to the ‘found’ rations and the Boar meat, they don’t go hungry.
As they enter the Elves domain, the trees become denser. There is a chill in the air as the sunlight is filtered from above.
Suddenly two elves step out in front of you. They have their swords drawn but don’t look as if they’re about to attack. Telfis instinctively looks up. Sure enough he sees two more Elves with arrows pointing directly at them from platforms halfway up the trees.
“What do you want?”, the lead Elf barks.
Bodush steps forward and explains that they have come only to rest and mean no harm.
The Elves seem to accept this and escort the group to the Elven treetop outpost. It’s simple by elven standards, built more for it’s serviceability than beauty and yet it retains the graceful proportions only Elves ever seem to manage.
Only Eolar and Durin seem uncomfortable here, but they soon realise that they are both welcome.
You rest here for over a week. You’re given private rooms, good food to eat and warm, dry clothes. Your recoveries are swift.

Catching their Breath

Eolar looks around. He finds the sudden silence after the frenzied battle soothing. Taking a deep breath he tries to assess the situation.
Mendez was the ‘cheating’ gambler they’d been pursuing all this time! Despite his own injuries he examines Mendez’s wounds. They’re serious. So serious that Eolar is surprised Mendez is still conscious. A whispered prayer to St Cuthbert helps a little.
Everyone is present in the camp except Budush. He had cast some sort of charm on the freakishly large and ugly human warrior and led him away from the camp. Eolar prays that the Sorcerer’s enchantment holds until Bodush can get away.
His next thought is for the injury prone Thesis but amazingly the muscular warrior’s without a scratch! In fact Eolar himself seems the most ‘scuffed’ by the battle.
Telfis wanders around examining the bodies of their fallen opponents. The psycho woman Ranger; Ancona is rigid in death with her face locked in an expression of hatred. The two thieves Reeves and Mortimer are merely limp and pale but the Gnome Illusionist; Izzard is still breathing. Telfis’ attention is drawn to a fat and warty toad sitting on top of the small gnomes chest. It’s watery eyes and downcast mouth seem to say, ‘Don’t kill me/him.’ The gnome seems stable but a quick knife thrust would be enough to finish him off.
Thesis is amazed and slightly disappointed not to have been injured. In fact he’s annoyed that he had missed the majority of the battle and glares jealously at the Dwarf Durin.
Durin feeling a little uncomfortable under Thesis’ gaze, takes the time to go through the backpacks left around the fire. Not much of use; a few rations some small amount of money. Still it’s better than nothing.
After about an hour Bodush re-enters the camp. “I’ve managed to lose Bailey, but I don’t know what he’ll do when he overcomes my enchantment. We should leave as soon as possible!”
Just then there’s a thump as Telfis collapses to the floor. The invigorating effects of the dried mushrooms have worn off and Telfis suddenly realises his injuries. He’s been badly hurt but hadn’t noticed until now.
Eolar rushes over of with his last prayer stablises the brave little thief.

A Short Goodbye

Wer is standing beside her huge dog as the sun rises slowly from behind the mountains. Although she’s been awake for hours, she stretches and yawns. She’s about to rouse the others when a small movement in the distance catches her eye.
It’s only a bird. A small bird, but it’s heading straight towards her. Despite it’s tiny size, Wer instinctively ducks.
It flutters past her and alights less than a foot away. It’s just a small brown Wren. Completely harmless.
Wer is about to turn away when the little bird starts to twitter in an agitated state. Again Wer looks and this time she notices a message tethered to the birds leg. Carefully she removes the note and reads the tiny, scratchy writing. Wer instantly recognises the handwriting.
It’s a summons from her former mentor; the wise woman of her Halfling clan.
Whatever the reason, it must be important. Wer springs astride Masena and shouts to her fellows, “Something terrible has happened. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.” And with that she’s gone.
The others look blearily at each other. “What did she say?” mumbles Telfis groggily.

Character Information

Hi All,
Hopefully we'll soon be meeting up for the second instalment of 'Catch that Pigeon!'.
Could you all do me a favour and let me know the following:
1) Arrows/Bolts/Stones: How many do each of you have left?
2) Magic: Who's got what? (Including Potions and Scrolls)
3) Spells: Unless told otherwise, what spells do you remember.
4) Can I have Wer's character sheet?
Every thing's ready my end.
You've got some knowledge of what's coming so you should be a little better prepared this time.
If possible can we start a bit earlier?
Say 7pm?

Bring on the Bad Guys!

Not the bunch of clowns you might imagine.

The Gang's All Here!

Here we are, in no particular marching order.

The dead cleric speaks

Eolar chants the words of the scroll over the remains of the dead cleric.
After a few moments the pile of ruined flesh shudders and rolls back, it's dead eyes staring upwards at the half elf standing over it.
"What do you want, tool of St. Cuthbert?"
Eolar commands in disgust: "Tell us of your group, fiend."
It's voice is broken and rasping.
"Why not? I care not what happens to them. My name was Chaplin, but I am dead now.
Bailey and I have adventured together many times. I wouldn't have called us friends but we had an 'understanding'. He'd do the fighting and I'd do the plotting. Mortimer and Reeves joined us later. They were just a couple of thieves but they worked well together and soon proved their value to us when stealth was required. The Raven haired, half-breed Ranger, Ancona and Izzard the spineless Gnome Magician were hired to help us track down the gambler. They might have become useful to me over time had I lived.
The cowards ran after the Owl bear killed me. I doubt they'd have given up, though. They probably just skirted the valley. They could afford to take their time, as Ancona shot the gambler with a poisoned arrow. He'll probably be dead like me within a few days."
Eolar is about to ask another question when the eerie light fades from the dead clerics eyes.

At least you know who you're are up against now!

The Goblin War Party

A grimy group of Goblins step carefully into the foul smelling camp. Anger flares in the lead Goblin’s eyes. They were just meant to be reinforcements, but someone has come into the camp and slaughtered the remaining three warriors.
He looks at the dead Worg and spits. Originally there had been three of them. Fierce but loyal the ‘Python’ clan. Their loss is difficult to accept.
He sniffs the air; “Humansss!”
His eyes are pulled by the sight of the fenced off tree. The corpses seem undisturbed and the crop of mushrooms left unmolested. “Goodly, we shalls be needing them soons.”
A barked command causes a few of his underlings to gather up the skins and furs left outside in the wet. A few will stay to guard the camp, but the others will make the interlopers pay. “Gets selves readly, we leaves at mornin' light!”

A Time to Reflect

The rag-tag group of adventurers gather themselves together in the cavernous den of the dead Owl bear. Wer as usual takes herself away from the group and keeps watch while astride her loyal mount.
The equipment in the clerics backpack was mostly destroyed. Only the very hard or very soft goods survived the assault. An incomplete set of ‘Half-plate’ armour, an ornate silver holy symbol of ‘Hexor’, a Morningstar of Masterworks quality, a couple of food rations and a blanket and bedroll. Those and a couple of well protected potions. Telfis also discovered a scroll case few feet away containing three spells: Glyph of Warding, Meld into Stone and Speak to the Dead. The blanket and bedroll is grabbed greedily by Thesis.
The stench inside the cave is truly awful but despite the dark, they manage to find the missing parts of the evil cleric.
Still tethered to the dismembered wrist is a small bag of gems and on a pallid finger, a ring of some value.
More importantly though is the rest of the armour. Though scuffed and torn apart at the straps, it could be fairly easily repaired.
The cleric was a large man. The armour might fit Thesis.
As he looks however, he finds another scroll hidden in the wrist section of the armour. Eolar steps forward to look. Two more Devine spells are displayed: Raise the Dead and Neutralise Poison.
Somehow this makes Eolar more afraid than before. Who exactly are the group chasing the thief?
Outside they go back to the area where the Cleric was killed. The tracks ‘seem’ to double back. The other party appear to have fled from the Owl bear and either headed back to Seawell or gone the long way around the valley. A good chance to catch up to them or possibly overtake?
Bodush checks their supplies. Including the found rations and Eolar and Wer gathering food for themselves, they are down to one day’s supplies plus Wer’s dubious mushrooms. A stretch to two days if they’re prudent.
Should they go on? They were lucky that Eolar and Thesis survived the last encounter.

New Kid on the Block

Wrapped tightly in the protective mantle of darkness Telfis stands motionlessly crouched behind the chimney of a house near the still busy waterfront of Seawell. Since the last twilight of dawn he has been carefully watching the proceedings below. He has never been to Seawell before and he is not overly happy with what he sees. Until a moment ago he had been excited by the apparent plethora of opportunities. All this traveling folk and the gullible young adventurers only waiting for man of his talents and maybe part with some of their funds in the exchange. However, observing yet another relatively ugly mugging down a dark alley to his left, the second one today, Tel's mood has turned more sombre. Silren help, he thinks, for every ingenuous and hopeful would-be adventurer around, there are already two unscrupulous and desperate have-been adventurers lurking around the corner, sharpening their daggers. No good business if a man has to fear for his own safety at his workplace.
Brooding in the dark, Tel has to admit that the competition in this city is somewhat on the stiff side. With the obvious surplus of hardened, ruthless criminals he doubts that this city is a good place to start a career for a young man with quick fingers and nothing else to do. And of course, there is also the excessive violence he has observed. Nothing wrong with violence as such, Tel muses, as long as it happens to other people. Tel himself is not the violent type. Of course he carries a dagger and he might have used it to threaten at one point or another, but he prefers the silent and stealthy way of doing business. After all, he thinks, every oafish idiot can hit someone over the head with a stick. No elegance in that, no skill, and sure enough no honour neither.

Early the next day Telfis decides that this is not a place to stay. He has better plans for his life than having his throat cut in a smelly side alley over a couple of worthless coins. Instead, he resolves, he will try his luck in the adventuring business. Not a bad life after all, he reflects, traveling the world, finding hidden treasures, and who knows, fate may even throw in a pretty princess in need of rescue once in a while. Must find a party of some sort though, Telfis thinks, that's how it works. No good adventuring alone. Telfis is quite excited by the prospect. Campfires, excitement, new places, and, of course, with a group of hardened adventurers he could stop worrying about those thugs following him.

Tel wanders around the market. Already there is quite a crowd gathering at the big space where the stall keepers shout and haggle and praise their various goods. Telfis scans the area for any likely candidates. He doesn't really know what he is looking for when his eyes fall on some sort of priestly looking fellow. He has seen this man before. Someone told him that he was part of a group of adventurers who accomplished some mildly spectacular feat or another recently. Probably not heroes but decent, hard working, well, whatever you called that. This is as good a starting point as any other, thinks Tel, getting closer to the stall were the priest stands looking somewhat piqued at a dwarven marketeer.
"So what is it, then? You surely must know what you are selling, good man?", the priest says as Telfis arrives within hearing distance.
"It is a book of ancient secrets, sire, very, uh, spiritual too.", says the dwarf in slightly broken common. They are both looking at a rather unremarkable brown book with a faint golden lining. The dwarf looks solemn, the priest intrigued but unconvinced. Tel risks a glance at the thing. "The week long menu; cookery for wedding feasts revisited", Tel reads aloud and adds, in fluent Dwarfen, directed at the shopkeeper: "That's a rather broad definition of ancient secrets and spirituality you got there mister." Both men turn to him, the dwarf looking slightly angry.
"Interesting. And who might you be, boy?", the priest is the first to speak. "Telfis, guv'nor, at your service. It appears master dwarf here is having a little fun at your expense.", Tel says, grinning broadly and feeling rather clever. The priest looks reflective for a moment. "A cookbook you say.", he says noncommittal. Then, managing to look threatening and friendly at the same time, adds: "And how would you know that? Are you telling me you can read this?". "Aye, it's the brother, sir. Taught me Gnome. And Dwarven. I speak Halfling too.", Tel says, radiating pride. "How curious. What is your profession?", the priest asks, seemingly having forgotten the dwarf merchant for a minute. "I want to be an adventurer, sir!". "So you have no profession.", the priest says rather disapprovingly. Telfis, feeling the moment slip away, hazards: "I can be very helpful, sir, if you would take me on your next adventure. I have sharp eyes, nimble fingers and I can read and write!", realizing that this might not be overly impressive qualifications for adventuring, he adds, "I can shoot a crossbow too." The priest is obviously not too impressed. And just as Tel is sure he will turn him down, the priest expression turns strangely unreadable for Telfis. "Alright, boy. Come to the inn down the street at eight in the evening. If my companions agree you shall have a chance to prove yourself useful."

Two days later Telfis is already on the road again. The meeting with the rest of the group had turned out not to be much of a problem. There was a tiny halfling with a dog, a somewhat bedraggled looking fellow who was apparently some sort of sorcerer, and a huge warrior with tattoos all over his body. Neither of them had any real objections that Tel joins the group, neither of them seemed very interested either. However, Tel thinks happily as he walks along the road out of the city, that may change, at least there was something to do now.

A Shining Light and a Welcome End

Thesis sees his father, uncle and brothers beckoning him from the Warriors Eternal Castle. It is a truly beautiful place of exquisite legend. But, he is cruely dragged back to firm earth and knows now that his road to eternity in legend still has many miles to travel.

Next time, he will attack first and talk later.

Secret Diary of Bodush - Translated from the original Infernal text

Day 1: Left Seawell. Mendez is doing something and is not coming. Luckily we have two replacements, a shifty looking kid from the next town over and what is hopefully a brave and strong warrior who will stand between me and any nasties we meet on the way. Walked most of the day. Halfling stayed out of the way.

Day 2: Slept well. Gajarpan ate a beetle in the morning and spent the rest of the day sleeping and digesting food. Was bored without him. Walked some more.

Day 3: Slept well. Some idiot decided on running for most of the day. I hate running, reminds me of my slave days. Orcs get worgs to ride on, slaves run. Met some pleasant goblins and a worg. Goblins very friendly, and a delight to bargain with, I like goblins. Thesis complicated matters. Big fight. I fulfilled a childhood dream and killed a worg and ate it. Got hurt. Note to self: Never, ever let Thesis talk to anyone again.

Day 4: Would have slept well, if it wasn't for the fact that every muscle in my body ached and that I pulled open the bandages on the wound that ferocious goblin warrior gave me. Note to self: This is all Thesis' fault, never bring him to a parley again. Ran into a river. Crossed river. Swore a lot. Got mule across river. What in the name of Wee Jas is this mule doing here? All it seems to do is carry a stupid shield and some smelly animal hides. Did a brief overview of my financial situation. I have enough to live comfortably in Seawell for 6 months, what am I doing here?

Day 5: Slept well. Found a valley. Annoying halfling found pieces of warrior, then ran away. Attacked by very, very, very big owlbear. Annoying halfling turned suicidal, must be some halfling deathcult they keep hidden from us 'big people'. Note to self: Study halfling theology to see if they have a Valhalla. Killed owlbear. Sanctimonious cleric badly hurt. Perhaps if he would carry his own thrice-damned shield, these things wouldn't happen to him. Note to self: Poison the mule at the earliest opportunity. Found some worthless magical baubles. Hopefully I will get to sleep soon.

Church Announcement

Brethren and Sistren!

The church of St.Cuthbert in Seawell is happy to announce that a new member joined the chapter of our beloved church. Brother Eolar from Nan-Elmroth was sent to us by St. Cuthbert to help spreading HIS word. Because of his experience and on his own wish, brother Eolar is going to take the position of a traveling cleric. He will make visits to outlying settlements and will act as a messenger between the council and our outposts in the wilderness. In this role, he is a direct subordinate to our Highness, the Bishop of Seawell.
As from now, Brother Eolar is acting as a official member of the chapter with all ecclesiastical privileges and duties. He has full authority to take confessions, administer justice and act as a spokesman of the church of St. Cuthbert.

May St.Cuthbert give him strength!
The Chapter of St.Cuthbert

A warning!

I just wanted to warn you that I'm not as nice as Assif.
Assif feels bad when characters die.
I don't.
Whatever you'll face tomorrow will probably try to kill you.
Play smart and don't assume everyone you'll meet will be weaker than you.
On the positive though, everyone's still low level so starting again won't be that much of an ordeal.
Good luck,
Kirk.

Escape!

Tel is running along the rooftops of the city silent as a cat, smiling to himself with the overconfidence that is the prerogative of youth. He cannot not help it. Not after tonight's little coup had worked out better than he had even dreamed. And it had been so easy. In his pouch, pressing against his waist, are a golden necklace and a little bag full of shiny coins. "Confident, lazy, cocky, dead", he could hear his brother tell him, like a mantra. He is trying to calm himself, concentrate on his escape. But it is difficult to suppress the exhilaration and even more difficult to imagine that one of those slow-witted thugs is still on his trail. He had been stealthy and swift as a night breeze. Most likely they hadn't even noticed yet that Lady Amanda's prized necklace is missing. As for the coins, he was sure they were mere peanuts for their previous owner who was Lady Amanda's unknown suitor. He definitely looked rich, the bastard, and a bit scary. Though certainly not as scary as his two monstrous bodyguards. Freaking half orcs, if Tel is any judge of these things. Better not be caught, better keep moving, Tel thinks, as he looks down a dark alley and carefully edges his way down a drainpipe. Not far now to the security of his hiding place, not far at all. No one to be seen, nothing to be heard, better trade some stealth for swiftness, Telfis thinks, and starts to jog down the dark alley leading to his safe place.
"Where are you going so fast, young man?", grunts a disembodied voice from Tel's left followed, before he can even react, by a massive hairy paw grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet. Taken completely by surprise, Telfis screams, reflexively: "I didn't do nothing guvnor!". Panic rising, heart already racing, Tel ineffectually wriggles to get free, mind racing to think of a way to escape.
"Now what do we have here?", grumbles the voice, no longer disembodied, but rather unpleasantly embodied in the ugly mass of one of the bodyguard thugs. He rips the pouch from Telfis' belt and weights it in his hand for a moment. No way to bluff your way out of this, Tel knows, no way to play innocent. In a second he will see the necklace and Silren knows what that brute will do to him.
Telfis goes limp, apparently resigned to his fate, as his captor shifts his grip to open the pouch and reveal its telltale contents. Tel slowly and carefully reaches to his side where he hides his small dagger. It is a desperate move, even under different circumstances he probably couldn't even seriously harm this monstrosity. The thug lets out a satisfied grunt, the limp and tiny figure in his grip momentarily forgotten. Tel seizes his moment. A flash of blade, immediately followed by a black streak of blood across the eye and brow of his captor. Not a good hit but freedom. Without waiting for the surprised cry of outrage Tel turns tail and runs. Heart still racing as he zig-zags through the city frantically trying to come up with a plan. He knows he cannot stay. He knows the city is no longer safe for him. Dejectedly he thinks about the night's events. He has lost his loot and his home.
Half an hour later, Telfis finds himself trotting along the road to the neighboring city of Seawell. Self doubt and despondence not among his most predominant traits, Telfis is already whistling a merry tune. He is eager to reach Seawell and already imagining the adventures and riches that await him there.

A new member. A new mission.

Bodush, Wer, and Eolar spend a pleasant week in Seawell. They enjoy the free lodgings and food. Bodush especially savouring the soft clean bed.
Mendez leaves the others to go carousing and is often gone for days without being seen.
The others exploit their time by spending some of their gold on new equipment and it’s there they encounter a new face in Seawell. People come and go all the time in this border town, but this oddly garbed Human stands out from the others. Though not particularly tall, the breadth of shoulders is almost freakish. Add to that the assortment of tattoos and piercings, you’d think him a young barbarian. His bearing and armour though mark him out as more refined but just as scary.
You all spot a possible job pined to the shop notice board simultaneously:
1000 GP REWARD FOR THIEF CAPTURED OR KILLED!
SEEK OUT SKINNER. OWNER OF THE GAMBLING BAR: THE MULES HAND.
The Warrior tears off the notice and strides from the shop.
The three friends glance at each other and hurry after him.
They get to a relatively unstained looking bar.
The Warrior turns to them and glares. Eolar is a fraction taller but only half the weight. They all step back a little.
Before anything can be said however, a portly man wanders out through the front door. He’s backed by two large and aggressive looking thugs.
“Are you here for the job?”
The group nod in unison.
“I’ve already hired another group. Still, they’ve been gone for over four days now. They’re probably dead.”
The man stares at them for a moment.
“If you want it, feel free to take it. The offer stands to whomever returns with my ring and proof of the oily thief’s death.”
He pauses for breath and pulls a handkerchief from his sleeve.
“Five days ago, an adventurer wagered heavily against me in a game of Poker. He bet so large, the only way I could equal the bet was by offering my magic ring. Impossibly he beat me. He took his winnings and left. It was only then that I discovered he had cheated.
My only son went after him. There was a confrontation and my boy was killed.”
Skinner dabs his eyes before continuing.
“He fled into the forest. I sent some of my men after him, but it was too late; he’d escaped. I hired a group of adventures the next day but they’ve failed to return. Catch him and bring back my ring and I will give you the thousand gold pieces.”
Wer considers the problem for a moment. There’s only one real path through the woods and it eventually leads to an Elven outpost. That’s the only place a lone human would be heading. An easy track, even after five days.
“You’ll need at least four of you to go. Are you together?”
Much to the surprise of the others, the warrior says “Yes, they’re with me.”
After Skinner and his men have gone, the warrior turns of the three friends. “My name is Thesis. Can any of you track?”

Thesis the Unproven

Trained for war, educated in combat and schooled in fighting, Thesis is ready - he has always been ready. His father, uncles and brothers all fought in great battles and imparted their knowledge and love of killing deep into Thesis' psyche, and yet Thesis himself was always told to stay at home.

Dark skinned and covered in his family's tribal tattoos with his warrior's-tail hair-knot flowing as he swings his great halberd he is indeed an awesome sight. On his 17th birthday he leaves home seeking great adventure - will he find it?

Hit Points

As a player, the thing I loathed the most was going up a level and then rolling a 1 for increased Hit Points.
I've spoken to Assif and he's agreed that the minimum you can role on level advancement is half you maximum possible.
This means A Wizard must get at least a 2 on a D4. A rogue must get at least 3 on a D6 etc.
Roll the Hit dice as normal and any roll under half rounds up.
Therefore a Fighter getting 5 Hit points on level advancement is still 5 times more likely than rolling a 6 or above.
Still, 5 is a great deal more acceptable than 1!
My maths may be a bit dodgy but I hope this is OK with everyone.

Potions and Magic Items

So, to business. You all got various "mystery" potions and magic items.
In case I had not already made it clear, you can pay your spellcaster (Bodush) to identify¹ items - it costs him 100gp in material components. If for some reason you should go to another spellcaster, they are likely to charge you more (120gp per ident). However you can also "taste" or "test" potions to asses their properties, but you will only get a vague hint (unless you/someone else make a successful spellcraft skill at the same time).

What you all got:

From Frock, 1 potion each:

• Mendez : White potion (hint: smells of camphor)
• Eolar : Grey potion (hint: feel you are more protected from attack)
• Wer: Silver (hint: you believe no one can hurt you)
• Bodush: Black (hint: you feel safe, as though in a church)

Of all these, Mendez's is the hardest to identify by far, it is clearly not a potion of cure light wounds, and may be worth the expense to properly identify it ...
The others are common potions and are probably worth less than the cost to identify them ... go on have a guess!

From the pirate patrol:

• Mendez : common - (hint: gives you a spring in your step)
• Wer #1: common - same as Grey above
• Wer #2: (hint: you canput up with any amount of rain and snow)
• Bodush : common - (hint: cuts are healed)
• Eolar: common - (hint: cuts are healed)

The others (from the hoard) I already gave you an identification for free ...

If anyone wants to attempt an identify / guess / spellcraft etc. on any of these potions, or indeed on the 2 magic items, let me know by e-mail.

your faithful DM.

---

1 - assuming that he copied the scroll "identify" into his spellbook!

[Rules] Criticals

A 20 on a d20 (or l8, or 19 depending on the weapon) only gives you a threat of a critical, not an actual critical. If you threaten critical, all it means is you roll again and if you hit, then you get your critical.
I think my minons might have lasted longer had we played the rules correctly!!

Header bar characters

Could everyone give a basic description of their characters?
(Including Assif, if his character concept has changed.)
I'll draw them up when I get a moment and Assif can post up the amended Banner.
Thanks.

[House Rules] Leveling-up

I've been reading up on leveling-up and requirement for training etc. and it seems that both the rules and general opinion have changed since 1st edition days. People even run campaigns now where you can level-up mid-combat (which is a bit crazy if you ask me). Anyway, I thought it sensible to make clear our house rules on this and invite critisism formally.

---

General Interpretation : Leveling up is a gradual process that occurs all the time PCs face challenging conditions. They train and practice all the time, but what makes them better is experience - that is what the XP system is about. Otherwise anyone could just train 24 hours a day for 2 years and become a 10th level fighter.

---

Rule #1 : PCs can level up in one of their existing classes at any time, it does not require weeks of training with a mentor. However, it does require down time to think and reflect - it cannot be done in mid-combat or in a perilous situation.

Rule #2 : Practically, leveling-up should be left to between game sessions as it can be distracting and time consuming. This means that adventures can be large and split over a number of sessions with leveling up between sessions. There would be no requirement for PCs to go back to town, level-up and then come back for more.
[EDIT] This does not stop us from allowing mid-game level-up where necessary. (e.g. previous session a PC gains not quite enough XP to level-up, he should prepare his leveled up character anyway between sessions and level-up when appropriate. So long as the DM is willing to count XP mid-game)

Rule #3 : Training costs. There are no GP costs associated with leveling up (except for conditions below).

Rule #4 : If a PC wants to multi-class, then gaining the 1st level in a new class does require 1-2 weeks training, and should have a cost of 1000gp. If the PC wants to gain a Prestige Class, then they will require to find a mentor and cover training and costs (2x that of an ordinary class).

Issue: a problem with all this is that the training costs were a general drain on the PCs gold reserves meaning that they did not get crazily rich. However there are other ways of handling this, e.g. paying to identify magical items (instead of the DM just telling them).

So, I welcome your comments:
Assif

Diary of Eolar

Watching the others leave, I was looking forward to spend a few days in the wilderness again. I'd have to make sure that the remains of the fake lighthouse are removed and the old lighthouse resumes its activity. I already spoke to some of the lizard folk and they seem to be friendly. I think I'm staying in the lighthouse, there should be a lizardmen settlement close by. It seems that they don't follow a higher god, so they might be open to the teachings of St.Cuthbert.

2 days passed since the last entry. I'm sitting in the lighthouse looking out to the calm sea. It's a wonderful, quiet place to recover and meditate. The lighthouse is working and judging by the ships passing by, the route to Seawell is open again. The lizard men come to the lighthouse frequently to bring food and goods and they've already agreed to keep the lighthouse running till a new keeper arrives. They are reclusive creatures and I have only met a handful so far. They also don't seem to be interested in their spiritual health, but some at least showed interest in divine matters.

The carts arrived from Seawell today. I already had a look through the goods the pirates had piled up the last days. It wasn't a big treasure but enough for the 4 of us. You have to be grateful for what St.Cuthbert sends you! While the stuff got loaded up, I said farewell to the lizard men whose hospitality I enjoyed the last days. Although I haven't met many, I have the suspicion there are hundreds in the swamps if not more. But their tribes are hard to find if they don't want you to. I'm fully recovered and ready again to guide my fellow adventurers in their search for a good spiritual life. I'm following the carts back to Seawell. Let's see what St.Cuthbert prepared for us!

The coming of Gajarpan

Bodush retired early to his lodgings after the hanging, the cries of the mob as the wrecker captain was strung up, reminding him too much of the orcs' savage laughter and hooting. He had watched too many helpless captives being murdered at the hands of a merciless orc mob, to ever enjoy the spectacle of execution. No matter how many times he told himself that she had been a ruthless murder, or reminded himself of all the grief and suffering she had left in her wake, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he refused all invitations to the celebrations that followed Erqua's death. Instead he locked himself up in his bedchamber with the ingredients he had purchased earlier, an assortment of herbs and other ingredients, a small cauldron and a cage containing a tiny viper.

Staying up all night, chanting and slowly boiling the contents of the cauldron, he slowly attuned himself to the small animal. Getting dizzy from the noxious fumes and lack of sleep, he cut his finger and let a few drops of his lifeblood fall into the cauldron, where it mixed with the poison he milked from the viper.

As dusk approached again, he opened the small cage, and carefully took out the small snake. He slowly dipped into the cooling liquid of the cauldron, feeling it wriggle in fear as it was held under for a few seconds. Lifting the snake, and still holding it, he knelt and drank from the cauldron.

His mind reeled for a few seconds as the memories and emotions of the snake overwhelmed him, the joy of a hot rock in spring, fear as two legged giants approached, the taste of a small mouse being swallowed, and the drowsy cold of autumn. He could feel the snake coil itself around his wrist, tightening its grip. He stared into the snake's eyes, and for a second, he could not tell if he was a man holding a snake, or a snake coiled around a man. Slowly the sensation passed and the snake let go, falling to the ground, coiling up in front of the heat of the fireplace.

As he knelt and gingerly reached out to stroke its scaly head, he felt waves of well-being radiate from his familiar, mirroring his own sense of relaxation and completion.

Looking down at his familiar, he knew that he never would have to be alone again.

"I think I will call you Gajarpan", he said to the snake, knowing that it did not understand.

The orcish word for snake, comprised of the words for silent and fear, seemed strangely appropriate.

A hanging

The people of Seawell cheer as Mendez, Bodush and Wer pass through the streets with the wrecker captain Erqua Ashilim bound and humiliated. They push her in front of them forcing her to keep moving, enjoying the grateful cheers of a relieved people.

When back in the mayors house with Erqua behind bars, they start to tell of what they found. Of course their tales are given an extra breath or two to inflate them (A pack of Worgs, A Zombie Army!!), but when the come to the evil deeds of Erqua and her band of Wreckers, no such exaggeration is needed. They know that when the townspeople hear of the heartless muder of the lighthouse keeper and his young family, there can only be one result.

The guard are less troubled by lizard-folk attacks since the heroes return. (Clearly the wreckers had been paying at least one tribe of the lizard-folk to launch these raids in the first place.) So, the mayor dispatches the lieutenant of the guard with 8 men and carts and mules to relieve the brave and righteous Eolar of his charge and bring back the lost goods.

Fittingly, the heroes are given a weeks lodging and all the help they need in recovering from their ordeals. When Eolar returns, all the adventurers split their proceeds¹ and resume their training in their arts of combat and magic use with renewed vigor, bringing their recently fought experience² to good use.

As for Erqua, well, that one is very strange. She was hanged after all, but before she went she made clear to everyone where she knew the mayor from before. Their days as pirates on the high seas became public knowledge. The mayor now sits on the same bench as Erqua once occupied, awaiting his trial.

---

Notes:
1. Treasure: You found 12 casks of salted meat, 18 casks of wine/spirits, 28 bales of cloth, 1500 copper ingots, 19 casks of oil and 15 casks of herbs and spices. (The total value 1478gp). Plus 600gp and 2 gems (100gp each).
Magic: (in addition to the potions I already told you about from the boy Frok and the pirate patrol): On the pirates and in their hoard:: 3 potions of cure light wounds, 1 potion of Mage Armour, 1 potion of endure elements, 1 potion of invisibility, 1 scroll identify (arcane), 1 scroll chill touch (arcane), 1 scroll summon monster 1 (divine). 1 magical ring (unidentified). 1 magical pair of bracers.
Weapons: On Erqa and her crew at the camp: 4 masterwork Cutlasses, 2 Masterwork Light Crossbows, 1 Masterwork dagger. (Re-sale value 160gp each)
Reward for Erqua alive: 400gp (plus the 50gp each you were promised)

2. Experience Points. You are awarded the following XP: Mendez (1070XP), Wer (1095XP), Bodush (1045XP) and Eolar (1090XP). Congratulations you all progress!! You will need to *pay* for your training though!

The journey back

Walking at a slow trudge, Mendez, Wer and Bodush make their way back through the open deltas towards town.
Turning to Bodush, Mendez whispers; “This shirt’s ruined! Do you realise how much it cost? This little escapade had better be worth my while.”
They keep a tight watch on the bound and gagged female pirate.
“There'd better be a reward for her as well.”
Despite his complaints about the trivial, Mendez is genuinely worried about Eolar. Left behind to guard the recaptured cargo.
He is also deeply concerned by the numerous deaths he’d seen. More so, he’s disturbed that one of those deaths could have been his own!
Perhaps choosing to be a Ranger had been a mistake?

New assignation in Seawell

It was a small and dirty pub at the harbour. He was sitting in a far corner, watching the people. Prosperous harbour towns like Seawell always attract all types of visitors: Adventurers and tradesmen as well as thieves and other outlaws. He didn't like crowds of any kind and normally tried to avoid settlements of any race. Memories came to his mind that reminded him why. ...

His father, a respected but solitary living elf who never considered the problems of elves or other races his own, died in a far away battle shortly after his birth. Treated by her own blood like an outlaw, his human mother was expelled for mingling with elves and so
they lived alone in his fathers hide-out in Nan Elmroth trying to avoid humans and were avoided by elves who regarded them inferior.
On his 10th birthday, the hide-out was attacked and his mother killed by marauding orks.
He managed to flee, but had to learn that being a half-breed doesn't make life easier.
Trying to find help in a human settlement, all he found was abuse, racism and expulsion and he had to fight his way out of towns more than just once.
Also his half-elvish parentage proved to be no remedy as elves regarded him impure and refused to welcome him. So for many years, he went back into the woods where he tried to survive alone.

Eolars attention got attracted by a ranger entering the pub. He heard his name in a whispered conversation close to him - Mendez. The stranger looked around as he was searching for someone and then went to a darker area of the bar, also watching the travellers coming in.
His style and the way he moved made him look as he didn't belonged into this kind of pub. While watching the ranger, more memories floated up in his mind....

He saw the face of the monk - Geolathon, a half-elf like him - in front of him. The monk found him near a ruin of an old cathedral in Nan-Elmroth and took him in. Eolar knew how to survive and how to fight his way through live, but Geolathon gave him a home and taught
him how to read and write. From him he learned patience, eloquence and further up the road, how to read old scriptures, use ancient knowledge and spellcraft. Slowly along the way he got introduced into the teachings of St.Cuthbert. Over the course of many years, the savaged boy grew into a confident, eloquent cleric with a cemented faith.
He learned to control his inflammableness towards injustice and racism and how to use the power he can draw from his god in order to defend himself and help others.
Geolathon, who came from the same background, gave up fighting against chaos long ago as he was convinced it was a forlorn fight. Eolar in contrast developed a growing desire to actively fight it and spread the lawful words of St.Cuthbert - in case of need with force. Short-tempered as he still was, it often was the latter....

Two more travellers now joined Mendez on the other side of the pub. The first one - a human as it seemed - looked like a sorcerer. He turned his head and Eolar saw a strange glint in his eye he wasn't sure about - a strange aura surrounded the stranger. The second arrival was as strange as the first, but for a totally different reason. She just tried to reach up for the counter to grab the beer she ordered. Beeing just about 3 feet, this was a undertaking worth watching. While he saw the small person jumping up and down, he remembered why he was here!

On the deathbed, Geolathon broke it to him, that he was send by St.Cuthbert through visions to teach him. Also Eolar had these from time to time and the last thing the monk taught him before leaving this world was that these divine visions should guide his life. The last one brought him to Seawell and made him look for a challenge....

Looking at the group at the bar, these adventurers were definitely in need of spiritual guidance. The sorcerer still made Eolar feel uncomfortable, but he couln't pin-point what it was. If this was the challenge St.Cuthbert set up for him, he was ready to take it! He downed the last drops of his beer and after putting the jug down, walked over to his new assignation.....

Seawell

Seawell, hot, sweaty and often violent. Its bustling sea port brings in the trade and with it prosperity. Ships come from far off lands bringing tales of adventure and treasure and this attracts so many people just like you who leave their little villages looking for fame and fortune. People of all kinds can be found here along with folk who many would hardly call people at all, they are so strange looking.
You can get what you want, within reason, but take care; there is always a dark alley with a thug waiting to steal you purse in exchange for a cut-throat. You could try to call on the local militia, but you wouldn't get far unless there was something in it for them. In any case, at the moment they are more preoccupied with the increasing raids from the Siarsk lizard-folk clan who are based at the southern end of the peninsula that is to the east of town.

So, dear adventurer, call upon whatever god or minion you favour, take your sword in your hand and go seek your destiny ...

fare-well

Timarik scribe to Captain Boscorm, Mayor of Seawell

Mendez

“Mamma? Mamma?”
“Where’s my new silk shirt?”
“No not the black one. The ‘charcoal’ grey one. It goes so much better with my new leather boots.”

Born the youngest son of a rich merchant and his beautiful third wife, Mendez has lived a life of indulgence and idleness.
Choosing the life of adventure over that of work, he knows that he’ll be fine as fortune always favours the rich and the beautiful.

Bodush - Sorcerer ordinaire

-Mummy? Where are you Mummy?

The little boy's voice rang out over the sound of the fire lapping at the walls of the little cabin. Standing up, his first breath filled his lungs with the acrid smoke, and he fell down to the floor coughing. Somewhere in the distance he heard his mothers voice, screaming. Tears streaming from his eyes, he crawled along the floor trying to reach the doors before the flames would block his path.

Falling down the wooden steps from the cabin, he stared in abject horror at his father's corpse. Blood was still oozing from the many cuts and wounds and slowly dripping from a gash along his throat, his dented militia-sword laying just a few feet away. Looking up his eyes locked with those of his mother, on her knees, two monstrous, porcine humanoids standing above her.

Her mouth moved, he knew she was calling his name, but her words were lost in the noise of the fire, and the guttural growls of the orcs grabbing him, lifting him up.

Then it was as if a spell lifted.

-Don't kill him! Don't kill my boy! Don't kill...

Her voice died away, drowned by the blood filling her mouth. Her lifeless body fell forward as the orc pulled his spear out of her torso. Her glassy eyes stared at the crying boy.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Bodush woke up, the sun was already rising, and the birdsong was slowly drowning out the horrors of his dreams. It must have been at least 13-14 years ago, and it was the only memory he had of his parents, his father's mangled corpse and his mother's dying scream. Why he never heard his name, his real name, the name his parent's gave him, he would probably never know. His name was Bodush, a slave's name.

Still, perhaps it was for the best. The boy who had carried that name was long gone. Not killed in the shock and pain of that night, but wasted away, little by little, killed by his own cowardice.

Life as a slave is never kind, and for a child amongst the orcs, it is lethal. Bodush shook his head, wondering what his mother, as she lay dying, would have thought of her boy, now, if she knew what he would do, what he would become. Bodush remembered the look on Massy's face, the emaciated halfling, caught stealing extra foods from the kitchens, as they fed him to their wargs as punishment. It was funny how the orcs never noticed how the little human never seemed to be hungry or how he would always volunteer for extra duties. While the other slaves working in the kitchen were executed one by one for stealing, Bodush was always there, always loyal, always telling the overseers when the others had secreted some food in their quarters. It was funny how the orcs never noticed that the slaves they thought were stealing food always were on the brink of starvation, while the little human tattletale always was in good health.

Bodush grimaced, thinking of those he had sent to their death. Still, he was alive, they weren't. . He could feel the cool morning heating up, and watch the sun rise over the distant ocean, while they were wargfodder. Who could blame him?

Not the gods. Bodush knew little of the human gods, and had nothing but hate for the gods of the orcs. Oh yes, he had become the personal slave of the tribe's shaman, a senile fool. The shaman had thought Bodush' magical powers, manifesting as they did when his voice changed, were a favour from the orcish gods. He had become less of a slave and more of an apprentice, preparing and sometimes performing the ritual sacrifices, reciting the litanies of hate that the orcish gods require before battles, and, not least, used his growing magical power to trick everyone into thinking that his meagre magics were all signs from the gods.

The shaman was dead. Bodush had shackled him to the altar of the gods and offered him up to Gruumsh as a parting present, before making his way out of the camp and into the lands of the humans.

This murder, the murder of an orc, was the only thing Bodush would feel a tiny sliver of guilt over.

He had made his way into the human lands, living by his wits, sometimes finding employment, mostly just wandering, relearning the language and customs of his own people. It is amazing how useful a well-placed spell and a hard-luck tale is, when your purse is empty and your stomach is growling.

Still...it was no way to live. Looking down on the town of Seawell, Bodush felt his spirits lift. Where there were people, there was money, and where there was money, there would be a job for him. He was ready to make his mark on the world.

After all, what did it matter that his name was forgotten? He was Bodush now, the boy who became a slave, who became a murderer.

He had earned his new name and someday, the whole world would know him by it.

Wer Hinterwood

Seeing her arrive from afar would almost think: "nice little piece of woman coming towards you", if it wasn't for that huge dog she is riding without a saddle. Really not bad looking, her quite fair skin, and all those little braids bouncing through the air at every step of her huge newfoundland. She has a bit of the wild touch around her have to admit, leather boots brown baggy breaches light leather armor, big earth colored hide cloak on her back and quarterstaff in her hand.
But when she comes closer something is most definitely wrong... The dog is not that big actually, still quite big but not that big and when she jumps of the black shepherd dog with her big smile and punches you lightly in the thighs in the thighs, you actually realize she is no more than 3 foot high... Darm halfling! She stick her arm fool of wooden bracelets into her satchel, grabs out her wooden pipe, fumbles around one of her numerous pouches and fills her pipe with nice smelling tabacco, a bit more of rummaging, light it and tells you her story.
That is Wer, Wer Hinterwood. And her childhood friend Masena. She left her tribe a couple of month ago on a kind of apprenticeship. Her tribe was a bit unusual for halflings, as opposed to most clans hers, the Hinterwood clan, is not that kind in the cities and towns, but more of the woods and the wilds. They still are of the nomadic and curious ones but instead of the dirty human world they have settle for the world of the woods, they have a lot of contact with all the people of the wild, from the centaurs to the orcs, over the elves, the treemen, the giants and all the others.
Since very young the old wise woman of the tribe noticed her incredible ability to empathize with nature and all of its parts, and her incredible power to impose her will, so set forth to train her to become her heir and one day to lead the woman council of the clan (which as every one knows de facto rules in that kind of subtle way as to let believe the males of the clan that they make the decision *laugh*). Her teacher not being able to teach her much more, it has been decided that the best for her future education is to travel through the big wide world and to come back when she will be ready to lead that bunch of wool-headed stubborn halflingmen of the clan.
So here she is ready for her first adventure, and having finished to smoke her pipe gets out a carved flute and starts some, lets say interesting, notes. Even Masema (her big Newfoundland riding dog, his story will be for an other time), lying against her , hides his head under his huge paws, no music is not her biggest talent for the moment....

New characters

A fun-filled afternoon of character creation resulted in some interesting additions to the party.
First off the mark was Dag's Blue-eyed, blonde-haired Orc-hating Human Ranger : "Meynhard Gaertner".
Next (and still being perfected) is Moritz's Halfling Druid "Wer Hinterwood" and his Riding Dog "Masema". Fittingly Masema seems to be better at just about anything than Wer!
Sven brings us his, as yet unnamed,half-elf cleric of St. Cuthbert, the god of retribution. He smites all who disagree with him, but protects his flock with menace.

Banner head

Hopefully Assif will help me post a new Banner head for this site.
It displays the current players and level of monster they face.
I plan to change it frequently. (If Assif will help me frequently.)
New players will be added and the monsters will change as we gain power.

DM Dubious has questions

This time, the party was better prepared. They had a plan of action. Mendez would heroically smash the door down and roll deftly into the room while Takis, standing back readies an arrow to strike whatever he sees as soon as the door is down.
Of course, for a new DM grappling with the complex combat rules, this simple action raises a number of questions.

• Naturally, Takis has a "readied action" to be triggered on the event of the door opening, and he would fire at whatever he sees. Is this right, or can you only ready an action against an opponent - e.g. "as soon as I see someone I fire at them"?¹
• If the Kobolds were ready and waiting, then why should they forgo any initiative roll, just because Takis has decided to "ready" an action?
• What should the Difficulty Class for the tumble check be?²
• What happens when fails his tumble check (which he did!)? Does this mean he falls prone, and is vulnerable, or is he actually still standing and so gets an arrow in the back of the head?
• Should the Kobolds get an attack of opportunity against the prone Mendez?³

I think the questions are difficult ones, but in the end what the DM says, goes - and I think I acted fairly. I am beginning to climb that learning curve ...

---

1. This is the most difficult question. I ruled that Takis could get an arrow off with the Kobolds flat-footed, and then we went to initiative. However, I think this ruling is entirely debatable. In the end I ruled in favour of the PCs as at least they were thinking about the combat and trying to do as much as possible to prepare well for the fight instead of just saying "we charge in and kill everyone!"
2. I ruled 10 as he was also kicking down the door.
3. Yeah, he failed didn't he ;)

Another taste of the same action

‘You, Battle-Nun. Give us your blessing before we go in.’
Mendez gives orders to Elogyn, as he arrogantly assumes command.
The Elven archer Takis, notches an arrow and stands directly behind the tall and athletic pirate.
Mendez shoulder barges the door and smashes through it easily. His attempts to gracefully tumble into the room and out of the way of the elf, like himself however, fall flat.
Time seems to stop for a moment.
Two Kobolds either side of the door can’t believe their luck. Both jab down with their spears at the prone Mendez. Both draw blood.
Takis however releases his arrow and it pierces the throat of the diminutive Kobold in the centre of the room. It falls to the floor, dead.
Elogyn slips into the room and confronts one of the Kobolds harassing Mendez.
She smashes the child-sized creature with her iron mace and it’s face parts company with the remains of its head.
Mendez slashes at his remaining opponent as he struggles to his feet. The Kobold easily avoids the clumsy stroke.
Takis however, calmly notches another arrow and lets it fly while walking into the room.
Mendez is saved again. This time by the Elf.
Suddenly a cry from the corner of the room alerts them to an additional Kobold. It had been hidden around the corner. It lets fly a sling stone straight at Elogyn, but lands only a glancing blow.
Mendez roars and charges after the cowering Kobold. It attempts to flee are stymied by a closed door and Mendez’s scimitar emerging from it’s stomach.
A quick rummage around the room reveals nothing worth taking.
Elogyn heals Mendez and then herself.
Mendez mutters under his breath; ‘Let’s aim for some money next time.’

A taste of action

Breathing shallow, Takis puts his cultured, and rather elegant ear against the rough hewn wood of the door. "Its occupied. Get ready for action." he whispers to his two companions. Mendez a swarthy, handsome man with an athletic elegance that most people can only dream of, takes the handle of the door, rapier poised in his favoured hand. Elogyn raises her mace and says a silent word of prayer.

The door opens without any resistance and is flung inwards, but the occupants are quite ready, having heard all that unnecessary whispering going on outside. The leader of the gang, who was sat at the room's only table has his sling ready and lets fly. Mendez is hit, but not badly injured. Unfortunately, the two other lizard-faced dog like creatures are waiting by the door and poke their viscous spears at him. One hits his leg, but Mendez is takes it like a man and leaps into the room swinging at the leader.

He misses, but so does Takis. Well, so much for training with the legendary elven archer Framovwen - it seems Takis has much to learn. Elogyn fares better, and soon two of the Kobolds are lying bleeding and dying on the floor.

Little do our heros know though that another Kobold lies in wait around a corner and he also manages to hit and injure the luckless Mendez. Bleeding and defiant Mendez steps over the table in a single bound and swings at the creature with both his weapons. A true swashbuckling performance that Erol Flynn would have been proud of. His rapier cuts through the yapping screaming Kobold and kills him instantly.

With Takis making up for earlier misses by dispatching the last Kobold, the camera pulls back to reveal the carnage and destruction resulting from the very first of our battles with the 3.5e books. There will be more. If I can only get to grips with this "Attacks of Opportunity" thing.