 |
Common Room
Danton's Journal
Telemachos' Letters
Game Information
Atlas
Greyhawk Calendar
Campaign Maps
Gods of Oerth
Flanaess History
Dice Roller
d20 Reference
Resources
 |
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Chapter 2: A Blighted Land Turn 51: Rastor and Mount Stalagos
“What a dump,” said Luger as he stood with the others looking up the road at the ramshackle structures that comprised Rastor. “A village consorting with orcs and an evil temple full of cultists nearby. This place should just be wiped off the map... but before we're knee deep in evil once again, I feel I owe you all an explanation about that man and woman in Woodstock. They were from the Scarlet Brotherhood and they are responsible for the murder of my father and the abduction of my mother. The Brotherhood forced my Suloise parents to participate in unholy experiments. Our parents escaped before Mauser and I were born, but Mauser's unusual ‘ability’ is the result of one of the Brotherhood’s experiments.” “But how doth that relate to the efforts of those miscreants to sow chaos and seize power in Woodstock?” asked Danton. “Now jus’ hold on a minute!” said Nanoc. “Are you sayin’ that whole mess in Woodstock an’ all those bad guys we had ta face was all about you? Ya gotta be kiddin’ me!” “No…and yes,” said Luger. “The Brotherhood seeks to seize power in all lands it does not presently control, and its favored method is to spread chaos, deceit, and betrayal…exactly the sorts of things we witnessed and, thankfully, stopped in Woodstock. I am certain that their Woodstock plan was underway long before we ever decided to travel to Rastor via Woodstock and the Kron Hills. So, in that sense, the Woodstock plot was certainly not all about us…or me. But I am now certain that the agents of the Brotherhood scattered about the Flanaess have been told to keep an eye out for me and, no doubt, for Mauser as well. Once we arrived in Woodstock, we didn’t exactly conceal our presence, so I’m sure the agents of the Brotherhood there made it their secondary goal to capture or kill me…any my associates…all of you.” “Hmm,” mused Danton, “That maketh more sense. Unfortunately, from what I hath seen so far, Luger, I would not doubt that those 'friends' of yours are on what passes for the governing council of Rastor. Prithee, tell me, art there any other 'friends' of yours or Mauser's that we must needs look out for? As Karzak pointed out, one red-leathered blonde hath given me enough of an arse-kicking for the month. While I can certainly stand another such encounter, 'twould only be between silken sheets and with a fine bottle of red -- neither of which is likely to be found in this den of thieves.” Luger sighed. “There are many more of the Brotherhood and if they are truly on to me, I fear we will not have seen the last of them. They are in complete control of many countries and it is rumored that the core priests of the Brotherhood serve Tharizdun. If that is true, then it is not too hard to conceive that they may actually be behind our cult of consumption. But, you may rest assured, I will remain focused and do what needs to be done in Rastor.” Nanoc flashed a reassuring smile. “Shoot, Luger, you is my friend, and as long as we is together, that there Scarlet Brotherhood will have to come through me first. Sounds like they is a bunch o’ evil fellahs that the world be better off wit’out anywho.” “Well, new threats aside,” said Danton, “after many adventures, we hath finally escaped Woodstock relatively unharmed and managed the Kron Hills better than could have been hoped for. Mine hat is off to Syll -- many talk a grand story, but few are those who come through in the end. Whether by wits, guile, bribery or some other such artifice, you hath gained us our passage.” Danton bowed slightly and tipped his traveling hat to Syll. In response, the elf only shrugged. “Sometimes I even impress myself,” said the smuggler. “But in such esteemed company, how could I do anything but my best?” Danton ignored the cocky response and looked back at the others. “Yet, now that we are here, I'm not sure if Syll’s success warrants thanking ... or a good drubbing. I'd almost rather sleep inside a horse's arse then in that Gray Lodge o'er yonder. But, alas, coming to Rastor was our choice, and not yours, Syll. For all that, methinks we'd better be about what we're about ... and quickly. This is plainly no place to remain for long.” Danton rifled through his pack and notebooks for several moments before removing a single sheet of parchment. “Nearly two full months have passed since we last encountered known agents of the cult—when they assaulted us in our sleep at the Inn of the Welcome Wench in Hommlet. More than enough time for the trail to go cold—and for word of our deeds to have reached even a place as remote as this. But lest any have forgotten, I shall now read the missive that drew us here in the first place and that we must now follow up on at last.” The scout gazed down at the short note he held and then read it aloud: “Master Dunrat, “Given this clue,” said Danton when he looked up from the paper, “our goal in Rastor must be two-fold. We must needs locate Tal Chamish and sweat out ... er, obtain, that is, information regarding the cult and its activities in Hommlet and the moathouse. We must also find this Temple of All-Consumption ... though I daresay that brings up awful memories of the moathouse monolith, as well as the Temple of Elemental Evil. Methinks we should start with Chamish. I believe I can find out about him readily enough, though I daresay I won't do it through pillowtalk ... not in this hive of scum, villainy and social disease.” Syll looked briefly as though he might protest this characterization, but then a sheepish look crossed his face and he only shrugged. Luger reacted visibly to Danton’s comments as well, but in a different manner from Syll. The cleric began to cover or remove all symbols and signs of Heironeus on his person. He also rubbed mud and grime on his normally spotless armor and clothing. “Ya takin’ up playin’ in the mud, boy?” asked Karzak with a laugh. “Hardly,” replied the cleric. “We cannot let our guard down in this place. Like Hommlet, there are bound to be agents of the cult here - maybe even a majority of the town is in league with them. I suggest we stick close together at all times. It might also help if we play the part of mercenaries for hire. With the symbols we collected in the moat house, we might be able to pass ourselves off as cultists and get into the temple without a full assault.” “Huh,” said Syll, “after hearing Danton read that note, I was thinking kinda the same thing. Maybe it’d be a good idea to try to find that Kumquat dude and try to convince him that we are new recruits and we have brought relics for him.”
“It really is a dump,” agreed Syll. “I try to avoid spending the night in Rastor at all. I usually try to arrive in the morning, get business done by afternoon, and be well away from the place before nightfall, but if we have to stay overnight, I was gonna suggest the Gray Lodge. But if you’d rather camp, we got the gear for it. But in that case we ought not to stray too far from the road if we want to avoid trouble with the orcs.” “You all still haven’t told me what this trip of yours is all about,” continued the smuggler, “but I’ve picked up a few things from comments here and there along the way. Based on that, I’d say we should hit Tymerian’s place first for some quick trading and a bit of news swapping. She knows me and I’ll tell her you lot are just passing through, no questions asked, and we trade a bit of information. She tends to know what is going on in the area.” Danton nodded. “I’d also prefer to consume mine own rations and water, stocking up in Rastor as needed, but with a jaundiced and critical eye regarding whatever provisions need to be purchased. I fear poisoning or drugging, either at the Gray Lodge or wherever we might purchase rations.” “Huh, that’s gonna be a wee problem,” said Karzak. “I didn’t really stock up enough in Woodstock an’ now I’m pretty much tapped out. I’m gonna have to buy some food here, like it or not.” “I think we can safely buy supplies from Tymerian,” said Syll. “She has the only real general goods shop in Rastor. You’ll want to double check anything you buy there—that’s only playing it smart an’ I’d do the same anywhere else—but she’s definitely yer best bet if you need to get anything here.” “These are good plans,” said Luger. “Let’s talk to both this Tymerian and the Hammersong fellow Syll mentioned. I will use my ability to detect evil on both when we encounter them.” “Just one more thing ‘fore we go into town,” said Nanoc. “I grew up in a town, Hammstead, many days north and west o’ here but still right at the foot o’ these here Lortmil Mountains. My town weren’t nothin’ like this. We traded wit’ orcs o’ the Crimson Claw clan. There was a rule though. Orcs were allowed to come during the day, but had to be gone by sunset. Anywho…likes I was a sayin’ I know orcs better than most, in fact I had to spend many summers wit’ the Crimson Claw clan ‘cause Justin though that’d make me strong. From that, I learned if they think you got any weakness, they won’t hesitate to use it against you. You show strength and don’t let ‘em push you around, then they knows where they stand.” “What that means if we run into orcs here in Rastor,” continued the barbarian, “is if one spits on your boot, don’t hesitate to plant your fist in his face. If you don’t respond, others will take note, and when they see you walkin’ the street they won’t hesitate to jump you. They ain’t the smartest, but you can bet if we come across some in the wilderness, for every one that we see, there will be at least one more in hiding somewhere. They always like to have odds in their favor. All that bein’ said, it ain’t unusual that they bite off more than they can chew. Like that Bloody Head clan that took my mom and them other girls. O’ course maybe that’s why Hammstead ain’t like this place. When that happened Justin, Grundar, the rest o’ the gang and a makeshift militia went and wiped that clan out. Well like I said they all live by a code of strength…the strong rule.“ *** The shop that Syll identified as belonging to the merchant Tymerian was easily the largest structure in Rastor. It was also one of the few that was constructed entirely of wood, and it stood out sharply against the poorly-built structures all around it that were held together with mud and thatch. Still, for all that, the building was only one level, and as soon as the party walked inside, it was obvious that Tymerian’s shop was only the barest imitation of the general goods stores owned by the Hucrele family in Oakhurst and Hommlet, much less the large emporia the party had frequented in Woodstock. Still, it appeared that the shop did stock a decent variety of basic clothing and equipment, and salted meats could be seen—and smelled—hanging from the ceiling at the back of the single large room that comprised the shop. While the rest of the group milled about examining the wares, Syll made his way to the rear of the shop to converse with a dark-haired woman of perhaps forty years. They appeared to know one another and, shortly thereafter, she came forward with the elf to meet the others. By the time Syll returned, Luger had finished surreptitiously casting his spell to test Tymerian’s character (Cast Detect Evil). “Folks,” said Syll, “This is Tymerian. Tymerian, this is, well, my current crew. Like I said, they’ll be interested in some gear, but I think they’ve also got a few questions about the town and its surroundings.” When Danton introduced himself to Tymerian by saying, “The name’s Plissken…but you can call me ‘Snake’,” the others followed his lead and gave fake names to the woman. After introductions were made, Tymerian nodded slightly towards the party and said, “Well, welcome to Rastor, such as it is. Judging by the look of you, you certainly aren’t merchants, so you must be mercenaries…here for one of two reasons. Either you’re on your way through the mountains…or your destination lies in them.” “If we were heading into the mountains from here, where might we go?” asked Danton airily. Tymerian shrugged. “South to Celene, west to the dwarf holds, but if your destination were the lands of the elf queen, Syll here could take you there without any directions from me, and I suspect your friend there,” she said, looking at Karzak, “could do the same with the mines of the dwarves. That leaves…the temple.” Danton kept his face carefully neutral at the mention of the temple, but the effort was ruined by Nanoc, who did a visible double-take when Tymerian referred to it. There followed a moment of awkward silence as Danton considered how to cover for Nanoc’s reaction, but then Tymerian laughed. “Oh, please!” she said. “I’ve lived here for a long time now, but I’m not a native. I know what kinds of places interest folk like you. Years ago, I too was an adventurer, or a mercenary, or whatever you call yourselves—I saw a good part of the Flanaess, let me tell you.” Suddenly the woman’s expression darkened. “But then my group had the misfortune of deciding to investigate that temple.” Tymerian paused and looked over her shoulder, as if she could see through the roof and into the mountains looming to the south. She shuddered and then looked back at the party. “Rather than hack our way through all the defenses, we had the brilliant idea of flying right over the crater top and landing in the center of the place.” Tymerian paused again as if she were reliving the events of which she spoke. “At least it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time,” she said, “right up to the point when the lightning towers inside the crater blasted us out of the sky. Several of my friends were killed and the rest of us crash-landed in the crater. Badly injured, we were no match for the wights that surrounded us, so we surrendered. They hauled us off to some dank prison. I managed to escape a few days later and made it out of the mountain and down to Rastor, where I’ve lived ever since.” “What about yer other friends?” interrupted Nanoc. “Ya didn’t jus’ leave ‘em, did ya?” “By the time I escaped, I was the only one left—the others had been hauled off for sacrifice one at a time. There was no one left to rescue,” the woman said sadly. “That was over ten years ago,” continued Tymerian after another pause. “I can’t remember much of anything else that might be useful to you, but I can stress this point—if you’re determined to get inside that volcano, I can at least tell you how not to do it. Don’t try to fly in—period. It’s suicide. If you’re going in, make your way up there and inside on foot. But if you do go in, you should sell me those horses you’ve got outside. If you try to go in with a whole caravan, you’ll never get far.” Without any other questions to ask at the moment, the party turned to buying supplies, loading up on weeks’ worth of dried rations and extra water skins. When the group had made its purchases and was ready to depart, Danton asked one last question in the most offhand manner he could: “Oh, by the way, if we find anything in our…travels…is it possible to purchase or rent carts or wagons here in Rastor to haul off the booty?” Tymerian nodded. “There’s a wheelwright called Tal Chamish who lives just up the road on the right. He’ll set you up with whatever you need.” *** Once the group was back on the dirt road outside, Luger said in a low voice, “It appears Syll was correct about Tymerian—I found no traces of evil on her. Shall we go and see the mayor next?” As the group walked up the road in the late afternoon, the eyes of all passersby were drawn to them. Everyone the party encountered gave the group a wide berth, but the newcomers could feel stares on their backs everywhere they went. Most of the locals the party saw were dwarves and humans, but, as Syll had warned, there were plenty of half-orcs and orcs as well. Several of the males, including humans, half-orcs, and orcs, leered openly at Aseneth as she passed them in the street, but the only ones who approached her and the others—a trio of orcs—quickly turned on their heels when Nanoc absently removed his greataxe from its harness on his back and tested its edge with one of his fingers. As it turned out, the residence of Rerrid Hammersong, the town elder, or mayor, of Rastor, was also the town’s only church or temple, as it contained a one-room shrine to Moradin, where, Syll said, Hammersong maintained his position by tending to the needs of the townsfolk. Like Tymerian’s shop, Hammersong’s residence was a simple wooden structure, but it too looked positively solid and well-built compared to the makeshift buildings all around it. Luger cast another spell (Detect Evil), just before the group approached the front door. When Syll knocked, an older, but solidly built, dwarf with a long gray beard answered. He was a good head taller than Karzak and he apparently wore a heavy chainmail shirt even when resting at home. “Ah, the smuggler returns!” said the dwarf when he saw Syll. “And with another company of freebooters, no less!” Syll shrugged. “Howdy, mayor Hammersong. A guy’s gotta make a living, don’t ya know?” The dwarf sniffed loudly. “So I’m told, so I’m told. Please, come in.” As the group shuffled past, Hammersong addressed Karzak in dwarven, greeting the fighter and inquiring as to his name and clan affiliation. Mindful of Danton’ s admonitions to conceal the group’s real identity, Karzak answered with the names of one of his cousins and of another clan that resided not far from his own. Once introductions were made and Hammersong had rounded up enough chairs for the group to sit in a small circle, the dwarf offered the group a cold drink. Nanoc was about to accept, until Danton loudly declared that the whole party had just enjoyed a late lunch and did not want to impose unnecessarily on the mayor. At this point Syll explained that his ‘associates’ were planning to travel through the mountains and were interested in information the locals might have on the nearby roads and passes. By this time, Luger had signaled Danton that he detected no evil with Hammersong, just as he had not with Tymerian. With this introduction, Danton tried to steer the conversation gradually towards the subject of the temple in the mountains, doing his best to make it appear that this was something Tymerian had first mentioned to the group and that only idle curiosity led him to inquire further about it with the mayor (innuendo: 7+3=10). Much to the chagrin of the Velunese, he had the sense almost immediately that Hammersong had seen right through the ploy. A knowing smile tugged at the edges of the dwarf’s mouth, but he nevertheless answered the question. “Just about everyone in Rastor knows there’s some sort of temple or complex up there in the mountains,” said the mayor. “Most of them even know where it is—inside the old volcano—Mount Stalagos. From time to time we see the clerics and their servants coming out of the nearby passes in wagons or on foot. There are at least three different trails leading up to the place through different passes. Hell, probably half the folks in town could tell you exactly how to get to it and some have even traded and talked with the robed clerics and their servants.” “Why does everyone say volcano?” asked Luger. “It’s not active is it? How could someone build a temple in an active volcano? Or a town just below one?” “That mountain was a volcano once,” clarified the mayor, “but they say it ain’t erupted in ten thousand years, so I’d say it’s pretty dormant…or just plain dead. A lot of the folks around here still say the mountain is haunted or cursed. I don’t know about any of that, and if you’re going up there, that’s your business an’ I’ll respect your privacy. But if you’re going up there looking for trouble, I’d just ask that you not do anything to bring any of that trouble down on our heads. That there temple ain’t never bothered us none, so we just want to be left well enough alone by it.” “No one here is troubled by living in the very shadows of a temple dedicated to an unknown deity, which couldst be of purest evil for all you know?” asked Danton incredulously. “You may well be correct as to its nature,” admitted Hammersong, “and we have all heard the stories of those who stray from the main roads disappearing, but this is our home. The temple has never bothered Rastor directly and, even if it did, we have no means to fight it. Do you honestly believe the Viscount would send his meager army all the way through the Welkwood and around the Kron Hills to free Rastor from your ‘shadow of evil? The very question is so ridiculous that it needs no answering. No, we have no choice but to come to terms with our neighbors, whether it be the orcs to the southwest, or the temple.” “Speaking of the orcs,” said Danton, “I had heard that they were the ones responsible for waylaying those who strayed from the main road in and out of Rastor, not the temple. Are you saying otherwise?” Hammersong shrugged. “Who can say? When someone goes missing, he isn’t exactly around to report who was behind his disappearance, now is he?” *** After meeting Tymerian and Hammersong, the party withdrew with its newly acquired supplies to a copse of pines on a low rise just to the north of Rastor and made camp for the evening. Not long after the tents were set up and the party cooked dinner, the skies opened and heavy rains poured down on Rastor and the surrounding country. Had not Nanoc carefully chosen a campsite on high ground, the downpour could easily have flooded the party’s tents or even washed them away, such was the volume of water that the summer storm brought. Lightning flashed and thunder roared, and Rastor disappeared completely in the dark and rain. In his tent, Danton changed into the roughest set of clothes and boots he had, pulled up a hood over his head (disguise 16+7=23), and then slipped out into the rain. He passed Nanoc and Aseneth, who stood guard under the branches of a particularly large tree, and made his way to the road and then towards Rastor. In such miserable weather, almost no one was out and about. It appeared that most people in Rastor sealed themselves up indoors and retired early. Most buildings on both sides of the road were dark and quiet. The obvious exception was what had to be the Gray Lodge tavern, where a log door stood open and sounds of music, shouting, and singing could be heard. When Danton passed by the door, he could see a room filled with men, orcs, and a handful of women. The Velunese might have been tempted to go inside the Lodge to listen to the locals’ conversations, but he had another destination this night—the home of Tal Chamish. Following the directions given by Tymerian, Danton soon came to a poorly built wooden building surrounded by a large yard. Scattered across the yard were all manner of wheeled conveyances in various states of disrepair. The house itself was in no better shape and the thatch roof was no doubt leaking copious amounts of rainwater inside even as Danton watched. Standing in the dark recess between two crude huts on the other side of the road (hide: 12+11=23), Danton settled in to watch the Chamish residence. The place was dark, but Danton was not about to chance breaking and entering until he was certain that Chamish and anyone else who might reside there was either absent or asleep. His hood, now completely soaked through, provided little protection from the rain, nor did the eave of the ‘house’ against which he leaned, as it seemed to channel all the rainwater that landed on it right onto his head. *** After Danton departed and when he was certain that all of the others were asleep, Nanoc took Aseneth’s hand and pulled her close. “Shucks Asya…I sure do miss Hommlet. We had nice picnics there and sat under the stars. I had time to look into your beautiful eyes…it looks like while we is at this place it’ll be all business again. I am sorry ‘bout that. I wanted to take you somewhere nice in Woodstock and get you somethin’ while we was there, but them there darned bad guys done messed up all my plans. Heck, we can’t even get our own room here! Well at least we is still both in good shape and we can hold hands and enjoy company together. Why don’t you tell me some about your town we gotta save? When is you supposed to be back there anywho? I am going a keep liftin’ stones, so when we get there I’ll be real strong and can help you fight them bad undead fellahs.” Aseneth initially smiled at Nanoc in the dark and drew close to ward off the chill from the rain, but at the mention of her home, she stiffened and looked away from the barbarian. “Rinloru was…most beautiful city in all of old Aerdy Kingdom,” she said, speaking almost as if she could see the place of which she spoke. “Was close to beautiful Solnor Ocean and my family was having home in city and other home by sea. Then war is coming—civil war—Aerdy fighting Aerdy. Mad southern king is using undead against us in north and is taking Rinloru with undead army—my family and others run to sea where is still safe. Later, when civil war is ending and North and South are now being two kingdom, undead monster and it forces are still controlling Rinloru and trying make whole North Kingdom being undead.” “My father,” continued the sorceress, “is general in north army. He is putting his soldier all around Rinloru, trying destroy undead and taking back our city, but they are too many. Siege is lasting over four year now. I am not seeing city for eight year, but people are telling is total ruin now. I finish school for witches and want go helping father, but mother and father are saying no, I must stay where is safe. I am saying no, I am woman now, not girl, I will do what I am wanting. Mother is angry, she is locking me in country house, but house cannot holding witch—I escape. I run…many things are happening…and I am coming to Hommlet hoping find way help father, destroy undead, going home to Rinloru.” Nanoc thought briefly that Aseneth might say more, but she broke down into sobs and the barbarian did his best to console her. When Aseneth finally stopped crying, Nanoc thought he heard her say one last thing, “Mother will be trying find me…she is other witch and she is Torquann. If is finding…will be very big trouble…” *** After an hour of watching the darkened Chamish residence, Danton finally slipped across the road and up to the front door. He stood outside it for a moment, looking and listening for any sign of danger (search: 4+13=17, listen: 17+7=24) and then turned to forcing the lock, which resisted his initial efforts as he fumbled with it in the dark (open lock: 4+10=14; failure), but gave way quickly when he slowed down and attacked it more methodically (take ten: 10+10=20; success). Once inside, Danton closed the door behind him. He regretted the fact that the rainwater running off his cloak and the mud on his boots would make it impossible to hide the fact that someone had been here, but there was no helping it. Moving about as quietly as he could (move silently: 14+11=25), Danton found that there were only three rooms in the house, an empty bedroom, the main living and dining area where he had first entered, and some sort of room where Chamish apparently dried and prepared herbs. This last room was filled with all manner of dried and drying plants and powders, lying in stacks and piles on tables, hanging from the ceiling, and filling small leather bags. Danton searched all three rooms for anything useful or incriminating (search: 13+13=26), but found little. There were no papers or journals for the taking, not even any business records, and no sign that anyone other than Chamish resided here. In the end, Danton was left with taking a single pouch of the dried herbs if he wanted anything to show for the night’s efforts. Having done so, he slipped back out the front door, closing it behind him once again, and made his way back to the party’s camp. ***. The rain continued through most of the night, only slackening an hour before dawn. When the party emerged from their tents after first light, there was still a light drizzle. If Rastor had looked like a poor, misbegotten place before the rainstorm, it now somehow looked even worse. The rain had turned the single road running through the village to one great mudslide, down which flowed everything from thatch and tree branches to garbage and human and humanoid refuse. If anything, the smell was even worse than the sight. The stench assaulted the senses and made most of the party have little desire for breakfast. Leaving Danton to sleep in late and Syll and Karzak to guard the party’s camp and animals, Nanoc, Aseneth, and Luger made their way around Rastor and up one of the passes Tymerian had identified as leading to the base of Mount Stalagos. The long, winding path ran over four miles south and west from Rastor, picking up hundreds of feet in elevation as it went along. Off to the north, the trio had a fine view of the narrow valley situated between the Kron Hills and the Lortmils. Ahead, the path wound north up and around Mount Stalagos before finally ending at a large cave set into the side of a cliff on the mountain’s northwest side. Forty feet across, the cave had a smooth, level floor that led to a pair of iron-bound wooden doors, each 15 feet high and eight feet across. Standing amidst a copse of evergreens that they hoped would shield them from view, Nanoc, Aseneth, and Luger could see that the left door had a massive iron doorknocker. A humanoid skull was spiked to the right door. As far as they could tell, there was absolutely no one about, guards or otherwise. Uncertain what to make of this, but hesitant to venture any closer for fear of being spotted, the trio retraced its steps back down the pass and returned to their camp. On the way back, Nanoc enumerated the issues that now confronted the party, as he saw it: “We gotta decide what, if anything, we’s gonna do ‘bout that Chamish fellah. I was leavin’ that up ta Danton, but if we’s doin’ somethin’, now’s the time. We also gotta figger out what we’s doin’ with our horses an’ that mule. That merchant lady was right ‘bout them—if we’re a goin’ inta the mountain fer a spell, we can’t be takin’ them with us. An’ then there’s Syll. I think he’s waitin’ fer us ta pay him the other part o’ his moolah, but it also kinda seems he likes hangin’ out wit’ us an’ he might wanna come wit’ us—if we asks him.” “I am sure Danton will having many idea and will wanting tell all to us,” said Aseneth with a smile at the barbarian. “Oh, that’s fer sure,” agreed Nanoc. “I can feel a headache comin’ on, jus’ thinking ‘bout all his yappin!” ________________________________________________________________ Notes for turn 52: Please send postings for Turn 51 by the end of Saturday, April 21st. Current date/time/location: 6 Kolovoz (August); approximately 1400; Rastor Items gained this turn: additional rations and water skins, pouch of unknown dried herbs acquired by Danton Undivided Loot previously gained: none Items used/lost/destroyed/sold this turn: FOES DEFEATED: Active party members listed in green. This Chapter:
Entire Campaign:
Current Status of the Party: Note: known magic items listed in bold. Nanoc AC: 17 Hit points: 79/79 New XP: 0 XP total: 24,031 XP needed: 28,000 Equipment: masterwork great axe, great axe +1, masterwork studded leather armor, 69 arrows, 2 quivers, backpack, 3 waterskins, 31 days trail rations, bedroll, 2 sacks, 2 flint & steel, bearskin, tent, 50’ rope, 1 sap, masterwork mighty composite shortbow, masterwork shortsword, 6 iron triangles with inverted ‘Y’, three black cones made of some unknown substance, a black scepter decorated with a half dozen violet gems, a bead of force, metal scroll tube, a black cloak, two inverted ziggurat pendants; potion of bull’s strength, potion of cure light wounds(X2), potion of cure moderate wounds, potion of water breathing, potion of spider climbing, Aseneth’s House Torquann dragon ring, heavy riding horse and riding equipment, spare light riding horse and equipment, pack mule (mule carries: 3 tents, most of party’s rations and water), ring of jumping (+30 to jumping checks), potions of cat’s grace, cure moderate wounds, invisibility, silver and gold brooches, potion of spider climb. Gold: 1691 Silver: 1420 Danton AC: 16 (17 vs. one opponent) Hit points: 30/30 New XP: 0 XP total: 22,081 XP needed: 28,000 Equipment: rapier, 6 daggers, light crossbow, studded leather armor, quiver with 33 bolts, bedroll, backpack, flint & steel, thieves picks, 3 waterskins, 31 days trail rations, hooded lantern, gold ring engraved with the name Karakas, 1 sap, 1 metal key from Yusdrayl, Everburning Torch, scrolls with pyrotechnics and melf’s acid arrow, old journal, 8 iron triangles with upside down ‘Y’ inside, 1 protection from fire scroll, 1 scroll of cure light wounds, 2 scrolls of cure moderate wounds, new journal, notebook, pen, ink, parchment in sealed waterproof box, pipe, tobacco, metal box, whetstone, six packets of tinder for lighting fires, gold inlaid dagger, Journal of Geynor Ton, a folded piece of parchment with a note addressed to someone named Festrath, spider pendant, a wand, tattered black cloak with burning eye emblazoned on it, disguise kit, letter to Master Dunrat, ochre-colored robe, potion of cure light wounds (X2), cure moderate wounds (X2), scrolls of animal messenger and stone shape, potion of love, light riding horse and equipment, potion of spider climb, a dozen vials of lantern oil, masterwork thieves’ tools, scroll with summon monster II, potion of cat’s grace, Rat’s Tail (Rapier +1), scroll with change self, enlarge, and two sleep spells, silver and gold brooches, bracers of armor +1, potion of hiding, pouch of uknown dried herbs taken from the home of Tal Chamish. Gold: 1398 Silver: 1200 Luger AC: 20 Hit Points: 53/53 New XP: 0 XP total: 17,531 XP needed: 21,000 Equipment: longsword, heavy mace, light x-bow, dagger, 20 bolts, chainmail +1, large steel shield, 3 belt pouches, large bag, 50’ rope, 5 torches, hooded lantern, 3 oil flasks, flint & steel, 31 days rations, silver holy symbol of Heironeus, 3 flasks holy water, 3 healer’s kits, backpack, cleric’s vestment, traveler’s clothing, 3 waterskins, bedroll, iron triangle with upside down ‘Y’ inside, eight cockatrice feathers, scrolls of cure light wounds (3), cure disease, neutralize poison, potion of cure moderate wounds; Geistblatt (ghost touch longsword +1), light riding horse and equipment, 5 vials of Furyondian Fire, cloak of resistance +1 (+1 to all saves), potions of enlarge, reduce, nondetection, silver and gold brooches. Spell Selection: Level 0(5): Detect MagicX2, Create WaterX2, Light Level 2 (4+1): Sound BurstX2, Hold PersonX2, Domain: Aid Level 3 (3+1): Dispel Magic, Searing LightX2, Domain: Magic Circle Against Evil Turn Undead attempts left on current day: 7 of 7 Gold: 28 Silver: 1200 Karzak AC: 19 Hit Points: 52/52 New XP: 0 XP total: 7,200 XP needed: 10,000 Equipment: backpack, water skin, 30 days rations, aleskin, 2 waterskins, flint & steel, heavy crossbow, 4 cases with 40 bolts, 2 daggers, masterwork dwarven waraxe, large steel shield, banded mail, short sword, silver and gold brooches, bedroll, sack, Nanoc’s silver-plated short sword, potion of levitate. Gold: 343 Silver: 1200 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Click for the [ Previous | Next | Home Page | Site List ] Want to join the ring? Click here for Info |
|