I do not remember much beyond this point. But I do know that we almost died. We have never come as close to death as we did on that day.
Kale and Ryn suddenly disappeared with a noise like a "pop". (Eventually, after the battle was won, they somehow reappeared.)
Bran, the Halfling Rogue, began the battle by tipping over the table. He had hoped to trap Baird beneath the table, but Baird managed to dodge aside. Baird hurled a ball of icy death toward the ground, covering it with cold from the grave. It was difficult to move, and the icy cold tore at us while we stood there.
Firinne, the Half-Elven Paladin, Carlagnios the Dragonborn Fighter, Garg the Half-Elven Warlord, and Bran moved to surround Baird, while Tiny kept Baird distracted with his spiritual hammer.
Since I had been in the back of our party (strategically positioning myself to attack Baird with a swarm of arrows), the Ghouls were closest to me, they all chose to attack me at the same time. With each blow and each bite, I could feel nothing but terror in my heart. I could no longer move, and I was stunned by the shock of their bites.
Far ahead of me, I could see Baird covering more of the ground with ice. Bran carefully avoided these areas, but the others kept getting caught in the cold. They managed to surround Baird and strike him again and again.
But Carlagnios took one too many blows from Baird, and he fell unconscious. The Ghouls kept biting and striking me, and I eventually fell as well. Before I lost consciousness, I was Tiny, the Dwarven Cleric, bring Carlagnios back from death's door. Garg was keeping the party inspired as well and healed many of their wounds.
I could hear Garg's voice in my head when I awoke. The Ghouls had taken me down and moved on to attack the rest of the party. The party had managed to kill Baird but at a hight cost. We were all bloodied and worn from the effort. The Ghouls gave them no respite.
One had attacked Tiny and stunned and immobilized him. Even while stunned, Tiny could still strike back through Loom, his magical hammer. Loom struck a critical blow, but the Ghoul was relentless and kept mauling Tiny until, mercifully, Tiny lost consciousness.
We were able to dispatch one of the Ghouls, and Garg was able to destroy another. But Garg, Carlagnios, and Firinne were nearly unconscious from the blows from the Ghouls. Bran was thankfully unscathed.
Bran, Garg, and Carlagnios focused their efforts on one of the Ghouls, while Firinne battled the other. I faced a difficult decision -- I could finish off the first Ghoul, or I could attack the second one, who was about to knock out Firinne. I reluctantly chose the former, and the second Ghoul struck Firinne down. We refocused our efforts on the remaining Ghoul and finally destoryed it.
Tiny and Firinne were near death, and Garg and Carlagnios were close to losing consciousness. Carlagnios and I had almost died.
We wanted to rest but Kale insisted that we search the room.
"We must find its phylactery," Kale said. "It is the thing that holds the soul of the Lich." He was referring to Baird.
Although we searched, we did not find this phylactery. We found some gold, and we had Baird's helm.
Kale examined the helm and declared that it was a Helm of Vision Unclouded. The helm would give its wearer keen insight and perception and the ability (on occassion) to see invisible things. Tiny eagerly scooped up the helm and donned it on his head.
Animata had slowly begun to stream into the room. We explored the rest of the room but could go no further.
We backtracked to the stairway up and followed the stairway past a fountain to some stables. In the ceiling, there was a hole with a rope coming down it. This is where the underground room "poked out".
In the stables, we also found a statuette of an ebony fly. Kale discovered that the statuette was magical and could be used to summon a flying mount.
Beyond that, we found nothing. After nearly dying in battle, we decided to take a long, extended rest and heal our wounds.
Friday, February 26, 2010
A Civilized Discussion With a Madman From Beyond the Grave
We followed the stairway down and found ourselves in an ancient sewer. The sewer was now dry, and there was an empty channel running alongside it. Bran pointed out that a sewer of this size meant that we must be in a large city, buried beneath the ground.
We followed the sewer and found a room with a number of cages. The cages held the bodies of humanoids that died recently. The bodies looked as though they had been starved and beaten. We did not see anyone here, not even any animata.
Near the cages, we found a book and a hook dagger. Caleb examined the book and dagger closely. He turned to Tiny, our Dwarven Cleric.
"Dwarf, you're a ritualist, right?"
Tiny nodded.
Caleb handed the book and dagger to Tiny. "Well, now you're a Feeder. Kale, you can use this as well," he told our Human Wizard.
The book was called the Traveler's Feast. It contained the instructions for making food for 5 people from 35 gold pieces of ingredients. The hook dagger was a Harvesting Dagger that Feeders use to collect the residue from animata.
We stopped to ponder our next move. Tiny suggested that we raise the dead bodies to give us some answers, but we agreed that this might be a dangerous path to take. In addition, the smell from the bodies in the cages was becoming overwhelming.
We decided instead to follow the tunnel. The tunnel led upward and then took a sharp turn. Bran snuck around the corner, but the passage ahead was dark. Kale lit a rock and threw it around the corner.
Ahead, we saw a door to a room. We opened the door to find ourselves in a long, triangular room. In the middle of the room was a long table with seats around the table. Sitting in a chair in the middle was a shrouded figure with its back toward us.
Was this a living creature? Or yet another beaten and starved body?
We approached the table, and Tiny poked at the back of the black-clothed figure. We heard it rustle as it sprung alert and turned to face us.
t threw back its hood to reveal a gaunt face with skin stretched tightly across its bones. It wore a shiny helm on its head. Tiny felt that whatever this creature was, it was no longer a human.
"Greetings," it spoke. "My name is Baird. Won't you all take a seat?"
"A seat?"
"Encounters don't have to be that tense," Baird said.
We took our seats across the table from Baird. Tiny looked closely at Baird's helm. "What is that?" Tiny asked as he pointed at the helm. "Where did it come from?"
"It's a trinket that I found," Baird answered. "It helps me to clear my mind."
You also have a trinket," Baird continued as he pointed at Loom, Tiny's magical hammer. "Where did that come from?"
"Another world," replied Tiny. "Can I have that helm?"
Baird chuckled. "We're not in the bargaining stage yet."
"How long have you been here?" asked Tiny.
"Quite some time." Baird went on to explain that the Minotaurs that we fought had worked for him. We told Baird that we killed the Minotaurs, and Baird let out a tired sigh. "That's the thing about life. Sometimes, you aren't up to its challenges, and then you die."
"What do you do here?" Tiny asked.
"I do experiments. I try to help people."
"Do you experiment on yourself?"
"I did experiment on my body before. But not anymore. What is the body but a lump of clay? What use is anything in this world?"
"Are you alone here?"
"No, it's not just me down here."
"Are those your animata?"
"No -- they are ancient servants of a long-dead foe. They were ordered to find this place and kill whoever was inside. But that Old War has been fought and lost."
Bran, the Halfling Rogue, noticed how pale and thin Baird was. Bran offered Baird some hard tack to eat.
"Thank you," said Baird.
"How did you help people with your experiments?"
"Have you seen the people in the cages that you passed? I helped them to see past the world. If you give me more captives, I can show you how I helped the others."
A chill ran through my spine.
"Are you the master of this place?"
"No, I am just squatting here.... waiting..."
"The Raven Queen is also patient," Bran remarked.
"Death is patient," Baird replied. "Death is fickle. I had some acquaintance with the Lover of the Raven Queen... but that war has been fought and lost."
"Who sent the animata to find and kill the people in this place?"
"The 100 sent the animata. Even though their hand has been removed form the tiller, their boat continues to drift forward."
"Boat? Is there water is this desert?"
"The Waste is not just a desert. There is Ocean Waste as well."
"Did you know the 100? We have fought some of them in the past. Do you know the 101?"
Baird nodded. "I knew the 100. I only know the 101 by reputation."
"Now," Baird said quietly, his patience seeming to wear thin, "Why don't you give me that Finder of yours, and I will let you go."
"What would you give us in exchange?"
"Mercy."
"But we're on your side -- we also face the 100. We have battled their Sworn before."
"How I would love to track down and kill the 100. The Sworn -- those were the days."
"Have you sworn anyone before?"
"No, what would I need the Sworn for?"
"Can you tell us where the 100 got their power?"
"The 100 got their power from the Lover of the Raven Queen." Baird seemed to be losing his patience.
"Can you help us find the Centenarch?"
Baird looked at us quizzically. "Why are you looking for the Centenarch?" He sighed. "There is a city called Lordahl. It is a haven for spelunking types, such as yourselves. It is a busy place that sits atop a vast mine... It is a city on a ruined city."
We turned to Caleb, who simply shrugged. He had not heard of Lordahl before.
Baird pondered for a moment. "It is a shame about the Minotaurs."
"We could raise them from the dead for you," offered Tiny.
"If you raise the Minotaurs and throw in your Finder -- dead -- I'll let you live."
"Do you surrender?" asked Tiny.
Baird almost looked amused. "By the way, if you indeed know the 100, then tell Logrid that I've got one of her books."
"Did you know Logrid?" we asked.
"I fought her," Baird replied.
"I was her," interjected Tiny.
Baird looked as though he was done with us. "It was pleasant while it lasted," he said. "And now...."
"It is time to eat!" he called out behind us, where four powerful ghouls arose.
We followed the sewer and found a room with a number of cages. The cages held the bodies of humanoids that died recently. The bodies looked as though they had been starved and beaten. We did not see anyone here, not even any animata.
Near the cages, we found a book and a hook dagger. Caleb examined the book and dagger closely. He turned to Tiny, our Dwarven Cleric.
"Dwarf, you're a ritualist, right?"
Tiny nodded.
Caleb handed the book and dagger to Tiny. "Well, now you're a Feeder. Kale, you can use this as well," he told our Human Wizard.
The book was called the Traveler's Feast. It contained the instructions for making food for 5 people from 35 gold pieces of ingredients. The hook dagger was a Harvesting Dagger that Feeders use to collect the residue from animata.
We stopped to ponder our next move. Tiny suggested that we raise the dead bodies to give us some answers, but we agreed that this might be a dangerous path to take. In addition, the smell from the bodies in the cages was becoming overwhelming.
We decided instead to follow the tunnel. The tunnel led upward and then took a sharp turn. Bran snuck around the corner, but the passage ahead was dark. Kale lit a rock and threw it around the corner.
Ahead, we saw a door to a room. We opened the door to find ourselves in a long, triangular room. In the middle of the room was a long table with seats around the table. Sitting in a chair in the middle was a shrouded figure with its back toward us.
Was this a living creature? Or yet another beaten and starved body?
We approached the table, and Tiny poked at the back of the black-clothed figure. We heard it rustle as it sprung alert and turned to face us.
t threw back its hood to reveal a gaunt face with skin stretched tightly across its bones. It wore a shiny helm on its head. Tiny felt that whatever this creature was, it was no longer a human.
"Greetings," it spoke. "My name is Baird. Won't you all take a seat?"
"A seat?"
"Encounters don't have to be that tense," Baird said.
We took our seats across the table from Baird. Tiny looked closely at Baird's helm. "What is that?" Tiny asked as he pointed at the helm. "Where did it come from?"
"It's a trinket that I found," Baird answered. "It helps me to clear my mind."
You also have a trinket," Baird continued as he pointed at Loom, Tiny's magical hammer. "Where did that come from?"
"Another world," replied Tiny. "Can I have that helm?"
Baird chuckled. "We're not in the bargaining stage yet."
"How long have you been here?" asked Tiny.
"Quite some time." Baird went on to explain that the Minotaurs that we fought had worked for him. We told Baird that we killed the Minotaurs, and Baird let out a tired sigh. "That's the thing about life. Sometimes, you aren't up to its challenges, and then you die."
"What do you do here?" Tiny asked.
"I do experiments. I try to help people."
"Do you experiment on yourself?"
"I did experiment on my body before. But not anymore. What is the body but a lump of clay? What use is anything in this world?"
"Are you alone here?"
"No, it's not just me down here."
"Are those your animata?"
"No -- they are ancient servants of a long-dead foe. They were ordered to find this place and kill whoever was inside. But that Old War has been fought and lost."
Bran, the Halfling Rogue, noticed how pale and thin Baird was. Bran offered Baird some hard tack to eat.
"Thank you," said Baird.
"How did you help people with your experiments?"
"Have you seen the people in the cages that you passed? I helped them to see past the world. If you give me more captives, I can show you how I helped the others."
A chill ran through my spine.
"Are you the master of this place?"
"No, I am just squatting here.... waiting..."
"The Raven Queen is also patient," Bran remarked.
"Death is patient," Baird replied. "Death is fickle. I had some acquaintance with the Lover of the Raven Queen... but that war has been fought and lost."
"Who sent the animata to find and kill the people in this place?"
"The 100 sent the animata. Even though their hand has been removed form the tiller, their boat continues to drift forward."
"Boat? Is there water is this desert?"
"The Waste is not just a desert. There is Ocean Waste as well."
"Did you know the 100? We have fought some of them in the past. Do you know the 101?"
Baird nodded. "I knew the 100. I only know the 101 by reputation."
"Now," Baird said quietly, his patience seeming to wear thin, "Why don't you give me that Finder of yours, and I will let you go."
"What would you give us in exchange?"
"Mercy."
"But we're on your side -- we also face the 100. We have battled their Sworn before."
"How I would love to track down and kill the 100. The Sworn -- those were the days."
"Have you sworn anyone before?"
"No, what would I need the Sworn for?"
"Can you tell us where the 100 got their power?"
"The 100 got their power from the Lover of the Raven Queen." Baird seemed to be losing his patience.
"Can you help us find the Centenarch?"
Baird looked at us quizzically. "Why are you looking for the Centenarch?" He sighed. "There is a city called Lordahl. It is a haven for spelunking types, such as yourselves. It is a busy place that sits atop a vast mine... It is a city on a ruined city."
We turned to Caleb, who simply shrugged. He had not heard of Lordahl before.
Baird pondered for a moment. "It is a shame about the Minotaurs."
"We could raise them from the dead for you," offered Tiny.
"If you raise the Minotaurs and throw in your Finder -- dead -- I'll let you live."
"Do you surrender?" asked Tiny.
Baird almost looked amused. "By the way, if you indeed know the 100, then tell Logrid that I've got one of her books."
"Did you know Logrid?" we asked.
"I fought her," Baird replied.
"I was her," interjected Tiny.
Baird looked as though he was done with us. "It was pleasant while it lasted," he said. "And now...."
"It is time to eat!" he called out behind us, where four powerful ghouls arose.
Secrets Beneath the Sand
After much discussion, Caleb the Finder agreed to lead us to a city for two shares of the treasure that we split amongst ourselves.
As we started out across the desert, the sky was as gray as ever. There was no hint of the sun, and without the sun to guide our way, we could only put our faith in Caleb's abilities as a Finder.
After we trekked for what seemed like miles, Caleb stopped and stared into the distance. We could barely make out a brown smear far ahead of us.
"We should all tie in," Caleb ordered. Tie in? "Tie yourselves to each other. There is a dust storm coming."
We all tied ourselves together. Bran, the Halfling Rogue, did not weigh much, and he realized that he needed a strong anchor to keep him from being blown away. He decided to tie himself to the back of Carlagnios, our Dragonborn Fighter. Bran had not been so close to Carlagnios' back side before, and his face shriveled into a squint when he smelled the odor from under the Dragonborn's tail. "Ugh..."
Caleb led us ahead into the dust storm. We could barely see before us, and the air was getting harder to breathe. We felt ourselves weakening, but Caleb insisted that we continue on. We marched through the evening and into the next morning before the dust storm passed us by.
Although it was the middle of the day, we felt too exhausted to continue on. Caleb suggested that we make camp and take an extended rest.
But the terrain around us was rocky. Ambushers could easily hide behind the rocks and decimate us with ease. This was not a safe place to stop. Could this be a trap?
We asked Tiny, our perceptive and insightful Dwarven Cleric, if he could determine if there was anything unusual about Caleb -- perhaps a subtle clue that Caleb might intend to have us killed here.
Tiny eyed Caleb carefully and replied, "Well, he has some food stuck to the corner of his mouth. But that's the only unusual thing that I see."
Well, at least he was not hungry enough to kill us and eat us.
Up ahead of us, we saw a ridge. Perhaps on the other side, we might be able to find a campsite that was less visible to any attackers.
Caleb walked ahead and peeked over the ridge. After some time observing the other side, Caleb returned. "There's a stutter of morons just past the ridge -- maybe 30 or so. Usually, they won't attack you, unless you poke them."
"Are they squatters?"
"No," Caleb replied, "squatters don't usually mill around like these ones do. They're out there for a reason -- they just don't know what that reason is yet."
Caleb sighed. "It's too bad we don't have a Feeder with us. A Feeder would carry a harvesting blade and could use that to harvest residue from the morons. Feeders use that residue for casting rituals to make food."
"So what do we do?
"Who is the fastest runner here?" Caleb asked. All fingers pointed at me. "You should just go to the middle of that stutter and see if they try to attack you. If they do, run out of there as quickly as you can."
"This is a bad idea," Ryn noted. "We don't know what their intentions are. Once you're down there among them, they can surround you and attack."
We didn't have other options (or perhaps we did, but I was not the brightest member of the party and could not think of any good ideas), so I proceeded over the ridge.
On the other side of the ridge was a mild depression, the animata were wandering around the depression, seemingly without any aim. I walked among them unhindered. They did not seem to notice me (or if they did, I was not important to them). They almost seemed to be hunting for something, but I could not say what.
I reported this back to the party, and Ryn came down to the stutter of animata. He checked for any sort of arcane aura -- something that might be drawing the animata here -- but he could not detect any.
"Maybe we should scare the morons," Caleb suggested. "That'll send them running back home to Ma, and maybe we'll find a poke-out there."
But we were still exhausted from the long trek through the dust storm, and we decided to make camp back where we had originally stopped. Fortunately, the afternoon passed uneventfully, and we were able to take in a long, extended rest.
After we awoke, we watched the animata for a while. They still seemed to be hunting. Something was there -- something that we could not see or detect.
"Maybe it's underground," Bran said. He pulled out his shovel from his pack, headed to the depression, and began to dig. We followed but were skeptical. "I'm telling you," Bran said, "there's something here."
"Bran, you've already dug 12 feet into the ground. How much farther are you going to dig?"
Only an eerie silence answered from the hole that Bran had been digging.
"Bran...? Bran...?"
From far beneath the ground, we heard Bran's voice echoing. "I fell through, but I'm alright. I'm in a narrow fissure of sorts. It looks like it might go deeper!"
Kale, our Human Mage, cast a spell on Bran's sword to make it glow. "The fissure is leading to a room," Bran called out, as we watched Kale's light grow dimmer.
We followed Bran's voice down through the fissure until the fissure broke through to a room. It looked as though the wall of the room had collapsed and dirt had flooded in. Bran was exploring the room with this glowing sword.
There were a number of pieces of rotted furniture, scattered throughout the room. They looked like beds or bunks. Ruined weapons and armor were strewn about, along with humanoid skeletons. Perhaps this was some sort of barracks in its time.
Bran found a trap door in the floor near the end of the room, and we opened it up. A tunnel led downward. As we followed the tunnel, we noticed that it was oddly shaped with square edges -- almost as though it had be constructed by someone.
The tunnel tooks sharp turns at various points. We felt as though we were following a winding maze. At one point, we found some writing in Old War language on the wall. "Gladiators Quarters". After that point in the tunnel, we continued to find more messages written on the walls. Most of the messages were mottos to encourage warriors to fight.
The tunnel finally ended in a large room. On the sides of the room were ladders leading upward.
As we made our way into the room, we were attacked by monstrous creatures. One was a demonic bull that Kale called a Minotaur. Three were half-breeds of bulls and men (identified by Kale as Minotaur Warriors). And two were great lizards with wings (recognized by Kale as Vrocks).
The Vrocks swooped upon us and shrieked in horrifying voices. We were stunned by the sound and could not move or take any actions.
Then, the Minotaur Warriors began their attack. One of them charged Firinne, the Half-Elven Palading, but ended up bouncing off her powerful armor. "Hah!"
Some of them surrounded Bran but failed to realize how flanking him would make him incredibly difficult to hit.
Carlagnios rushed to attack one of the Vrocks.
A long and torturous battle ensued, but we were finally able to turn the tide. Bran struck and killed one of the Minotaur Warriors with a deep cut. Firinne badly damaged another with a critical blow. Ryn wounded yet another one, and Firinne struck the final blow to finish that Minotaur Warrior. Tiny sacrificed his health to heal us when we were getting close to death. Garg healed us as well and commanded us to strike strategic blows against the enemy. Kale burned the Minotaur Warriors with bursts of flame.
At some point, an animata appeared (perhaps having wandered down from the surface) and milled around the room.
Finally, with his Vrocks and Minotaur Warriors dying, the Minotaur demon decided to flee, and the battle was over.
In the room, we found a lockbox, which Bran picked open to reveal a stash of gold coins. Caleb took his cut of the gold (the 2 shares).
At the end of the room, we found a stairway leading up and a stairway leading down. Tiny noticed an odor of garbage coming from the stairway down. We looked closer but could only see inky blackness.
As we started out across the desert, the sky was as gray as ever. There was no hint of the sun, and without the sun to guide our way, we could only put our faith in Caleb's abilities as a Finder.
After we trekked for what seemed like miles, Caleb stopped and stared into the distance. We could barely make out a brown smear far ahead of us.
"We should all tie in," Caleb ordered. Tie in? "Tie yourselves to each other. There is a dust storm coming."
We all tied ourselves together. Bran, the Halfling Rogue, did not weigh much, and he realized that he needed a strong anchor to keep him from being blown away. He decided to tie himself to the back of Carlagnios, our Dragonborn Fighter. Bran had not been so close to Carlagnios' back side before, and his face shriveled into a squint when he smelled the odor from under the Dragonborn's tail. "Ugh..."
Caleb led us ahead into the dust storm. We could barely see before us, and the air was getting harder to breathe. We felt ourselves weakening, but Caleb insisted that we continue on. We marched through the evening and into the next morning before the dust storm passed us by.
Although it was the middle of the day, we felt too exhausted to continue on. Caleb suggested that we make camp and take an extended rest.
But the terrain around us was rocky. Ambushers could easily hide behind the rocks and decimate us with ease. This was not a safe place to stop. Could this be a trap?
We asked Tiny, our perceptive and insightful Dwarven Cleric, if he could determine if there was anything unusual about Caleb -- perhaps a subtle clue that Caleb might intend to have us killed here.
Tiny eyed Caleb carefully and replied, "Well, he has some food stuck to the corner of his mouth. But that's the only unusual thing that I see."
Well, at least he was not hungry enough to kill us and eat us.
Up ahead of us, we saw a ridge. Perhaps on the other side, we might be able to find a campsite that was less visible to any attackers.
Caleb walked ahead and peeked over the ridge. After some time observing the other side, Caleb returned. "There's a stutter of morons just past the ridge -- maybe 30 or so. Usually, they won't attack you, unless you poke them."
"Are they squatters?"
"No," Caleb replied, "squatters don't usually mill around like these ones do. They're out there for a reason -- they just don't know what that reason is yet."
Caleb sighed. "It's too bad we don't have a Feeder with us. A Feeder would carry a harvesting blade and could use that to harvest residue from the morons. Feeders use that residue for casting rituals to make food."
"So what do we do?
"Who is the fastest runner here?" Caleb asked. All fingers pointed at me. "You should just go to the middle of that stutter and see if they try to attack you. If they do, run out of there as quickly as you can."
"This is a bad idea," Ryn noted. "We don't know what their intentions are. Once you're down there among them, they can surround you and attack."
We didn't have other options (or perhaps we did, but I was not the brightest member of the party and could not think of any good ideas), so I proceeded over the ridge.
On the other side of the ridge was a mild depression, the animata were wandering around the depression, seemingly without any aim. I walked among them unhindered. They did not seem to notice me (or if they did, I was not important to them). They almost seemed to be hunting for something, but I could not say what.
I reported this back to the party, and Ryn came down to the stutter of animata. He checked for any sort of arcane aura -- something that might be drawing the animata here -- but he could not detect any.
"Maybe we should scare the morons," Caleb suggested. "That'll send them running back home to Ma, and maybe we'll find a poke-out there."
But we were still exhausted from the long trek through the dust storm, and we decided to make camp back where we had originally stopped. Fortunately, the afternoon passed uneventfully, and we were able to take in a long, extended rest.
After we awoke, we watched the animata for a while. They still seemed to be hunting. Something was there -- something that we could not see or detect.
"Maybe it's underground," Bran said. He pulled out his shovel from his pack, headed to the depression, and began to dig. We followed but were skeptical. "I'm telling you," Bran said, "there's something here."
"Bran, you've already dug 12 feet into the ground. How much farther are you going to dig?"
Only an eerie silence answered from the hole that Bran had been digging.
"Bran...? Bran...?"
From far beneath the ground, we heard Bran's voice echoing. "I fell through, but I'm alright. I'm in a narrow fissure of sorts. It looks like it might go deeper!"
Kale, our Human Mage, cast a spell on Bran's sword to make it glow. "The fissure is leading to a room," Bran called out, as we watched Kale's light grow dimmer.
We followed Bran's voice down through the fissure until the fissure broke through to a room. It looked as though the wall of the room had collapsed and dirt had flooded in. Bran was exploring the room with this glowing sword.
There were a number of pieces of rotted furniture, scattered throughout the room. They looked like beds or bunks. Ruined weapons and armor were strewn about, along with humanoid skeletons. Perhaps this was some sort of barracks in its time.
Bran found a trap door in the floor near the end of the room, and we opened it up. A tunnel led downward. As we followed the tunnel, we noticed that it was oddly shaped with square edges -- almost as though it had be constructed by someone.
The tunnel tooks sharp turns at various points. We felt as though we were following a winding maze. At one point, we found some writing in Old War language on the wall. "Gladiators Quarters". After that point in the tunnel, we continued to find more messages written on the walls. Most of the messages were mottos to encourage warriors to fight.
The tunnel finally ended in a large room. On the sides of the room were ladders leading upward.
As we made our way into the room, we were attacked by monstrous creatures. One was a demonic bull that Kale called a Minotaur. Three were half-breeds of bulls and men (identified by Kale as Minotaur Warriors). And two were great lizards with wings (recognized by Kale as Vrocks).
The Vrocks swooped upon us and shrieked in horrifying voices. We were stunned by the sound and could not move or take any actions.
Then, the Minotaur Warriors began their attack. One of them charged Firinne, the Half-Elven Palading, but ended up bouncing off her powerful armor. "Hah!"
Some of them surrounded Bran but failed to realize how flanking him would make him incredibly difficult to hit.
Carlagnios rushed to attack one of the Vrocks.
A long and torturous battle ensued, but we were finally able to turn the tide. Bran struck and killed one of the Minotaur Warriors with a deep cut. Firinne badly damaged another with a critical blow. Ryn wounded yet another one, and Firinne struck the final blow to finish that Minotaur Warrior. Tiny sacrificed his health to heal us when we were getting close to death. Garg healed us as well and commanded us to strike strategic blows against the enemy. Kale burned the Minotaur Warriors with bursts of flame.
At some point, an animata appeared (perhaps having wandered down from the surface) and milled around the room.
Finally, with his Vrocks and Minotaur Warriors dying, the Minotaur demon decided to flee, and the battle was over.
In the room, we found a lockbox, which Bran picked open to reveal a stash of gold coins. Caleb took his cut of the gold (the 2 shares).
At the end of the room, we found a stairway leading up and a stairway leading down. Tiny noticed an odor of garbage coming from the stairway down. We looked closer but could only see inky blackness.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
High Noon
The elf had three groups of five people with him. We seemed to be outnumbered. We tried to escape through the kitchen, but they poured in, and the tavern became a madhouse.
A Hill Giant appeared, waving around a giant iron wand and wearing a sheriff's badge on his chest. "Everybody calm down now. There will be no trouble in this town."
He brought us all outside and spoke with the elf and our party. "Choose a man and square off," he said. "The first one to be bloodied by the attack loses."
It was decided that I should face off against the elf with the iron wand. He drew the wand quickly. I was able to fire an arrow in my defense in an attempt to disrupt his attack. But he was far too precise in his shots and he took me down quickly with two metal balls.
"The battle is over," the Hill Giant declared. The penalties for losing the battle were harsh. We were run out of town for a year, and the elf could take any possession of mine. He decided to take my breaching armor. (Fortunately, we had a spare suit of deathcut leather armor that could protect me.)
Caleb looked at us skeptically, as if trying to determine if we were really as experienced as we claimed to be. We told him about the pokeout that we had cleared out earlier. "Well," he said, "now that it's cleared out, someone could start a new mining operation there. That's worth something."
"I could take book, verify the place, then go back into town and sell the claim," he offered. "I'd need to convince everyone that you were staying, though. that would drive the price of the claim up. I could get maybe 1000 gp for the mine." Tiny, our insightful Dwarven Cleric, thought that Caleb would be able to get more.
Kale, our Human Mage, noted that the "blip" was probably us when we were fiddling with the symbol. This meant that we could use the scarab to hide book. This could be useful if we wanted to sit on a claim and didn't want anyone to notice.
We declined Caleb's offer. Tiny sensed that Caleb respected us for not giving book. Caleb believed that you should keep book to yourself.
We asked Caleb about the other cities and towns in this world. The big cities were far away from here. In those cities, people charge a lot for pokeouts. There are guilds in the cities. You need to pay to enter pokeouts, and most of the pokeouts have alredy been picked through.
People tend to pay more in smaller towns because they don't know what it's worth.
A Hill Giant appeared, waving around a giant iron wand and wearing a sheriff's badge on his chest. "Everybody calm down now. There will be no trouble in this town."
He brought us all outside and spoke with the elf and our party. "Choose a man and square off," he said. "The first one to be bloodied by the attack loses."
It was decided that I should face off against the elf with the iron wand. He drew the wand quickly. I was able to fire an arrow in my defense in an attempt to disrupt his attack. But he was far too precise in his shots and he took me down quickly with two metal balls.
"The battle is over," the Hill Giant declared. The penalties for losing the battle were harsh. We were run out of town for a year, and the elf could take any possession of mine. He decided to take my breaching armor. (Fortunately, we had a spare suit of deathcut leather armor that could protect me.)
Caleb looked at us skeptically, as if trying to determine if we were really as experienced as we claimed to be. We told him about the pokeout that we had cleared out earlier. "Well," he said, "now that it's cleared out, someone could start a new mining operation there. That's worth something."
"I could take book, verify the place, then go back into town and sell the claim," he offered. "I'd need to convince everyone that you were staying, though. that would drive the price of the claim up. I could get maybe 1000 gp for the mine." Tiny, our insightful Dwarven Cleric, thought that Caleb would be able to get more.
Kale, our Human Mage, noted that the "blip" was probably us when we were fiddling with the symbol. This meant that we could use the scarab to hide book. This could be useful if we wanted to sit on a claim and didn't want anyone to notice.
We declined Caleb's offer. Tiny sensed that Caleb respected us for not giving book. Caleb believed that you should keep book to yourself.
We asked Caleb about the other cities and towns in this world. The big cities were far away from here. In those cities, people charge a lot for pokeouts. There are guilds in the cities. You need to pay to enter pokeouts, and most of the pokeouts have alredy been picked through.
People tend to pay more in smaller towns because they don't know what it's worth.
The Iron Wand
Pistol
Group:
Firearms
Military one-handed ranged weapon
Cost: -- gp
Damage: 1d8
Proficient: +2
Range: 15/30
Weight: 3 lb.
Properties:
Load 2 Minor (Ranged weapons that loose projectiles, including bows, crossbows, and slings, take some time to load. When a weapon shows “load free” on the ranged weapons table, that means you draw and load ammunition as a free action, effectively part of the action used to attack with the weapon. Any weapon that has the load property requires two hands to load, even if you can use only one hand to attack with it. (The sling, for example, is a one-handed weapon, but you need a free hand to load it.) The pistol is “load 2 minor,” which means it requires two minor actions to load shot and powder into the weapon. If a power allows you to hit multiple targets, the additional load time is accounted for in the power.).
Small (This property describes a two-handed or a versatile weapon that a Small character can use in the same way a Medium character can. A halfling can use a shortbow, for example, even though halflings can’t normally use two-handed weapons.).
High Crit (A high crit weapon deals more damage when you score a critical hit with it. A critical hit deals maximum weapon damage and an extra 1[W] at 1st–10th levels, an extra 2[W] at 11th–20th levels, and an extra 3[W] at 21st–30th levels. This extra damage is in addition to any critical damage the weapon supplies if it is a magic weapon.).
Cost: -- gp
Damage: 1d8
Proficient: +2
Range: 15/30
Weight: 3 lb.
Properties:
Load 2 Minor (Ranged weapons that loose projectiles, including bows, crossbows, and slings, take some time to load. When a weapon shows “load free” on the ranged weapons table, that means you draw and load ammunition as a free action, effectively part of the action used to attack with the weapon. Any weapon that has the load property requires two hands to load, even if you can use only one hand to attack with it. (The sling, for example, is a one-handed weapon, but you need a free hand to load it.) The pistol is “load 2 minor,” which means it requires two minor actions to load shot and powder into the weapon. If a power allows you to hit multiple targets, the additional load time is accounted for in the power.).
Small (This property describes a two-handed or a versatile weapon that a Small character can use in the same way a Medium character can. A halfling can use a shortbow, for example, even though halflings can’t normally use two-handed weapons.).
High Crit (A high crit weapon deals more damage when you score a critical hit with it. A critical hit deals maximum weapon damage and an extra 1[W] at 1st–10th levels, an extra 2[W] at 11th–20th levels, and an extra 3[W] at 21st–30th levels. This extra damage is in addition to any critical damage the weapon supplies if it is a magic weapon.).
Brutal 1 (A brutal weapon’s minimum damage is higher than that of a normal weapon. When rolling the weapon’s damage, reroll any die that displays a value equal to or lower than the brutal value given for the weapon. Reroll the die until the value shown exceeds the weapon’s brutal value, and then use the new value.)
Misfire 1 (Roll d4: 1, explosion, burst 1 d8 damage; 2-4, fouled until rest)
Group:
Firearms
In Search of a Finder in the Town of the Sour Well
From a distance, we could see the town. There were low buildings and a pokeout -- a reminder of the cataclysm that covered this world in lava rock.
At the town limits were narrow lookout towers, made of stone and wood. Two riders on lizard approached us. They wore floppy hats and badges to identify them as deputies. They did not seem hostile -- just curious.
"Are you going in to Sour Well?" one asked.
"The sheriff runs a tight ship," the other proclaimed. "No funny business."
We explained that we were merely travelers seeking shelter.
"Feel free to throw around your money," they advised, eying our clothes and equipment. It was clear that we were wealthy enough to afford some powerful armor and weapons.
The town was small (less than 100 inhabitants) but active. There was a mix of races -- Dragonborn, Halflings, Humans, Half-Elves, and Dwarves. Some walked together in groups. Perhaps these were parties such as our own. Not many had bows and arrows -- many had the iron wands that we saw earlier.
At the General Store, we bought working clothes, so that we would not stand out. Nearby, we found a maker of the iron wands. We purchased one with a bone handle, carved from a lizard. We also bought the magical powder (which made the wand work) and a couple hundred metal balls (which the iron wand shot into the air). We were pointed in the direction of an armorer in town who could enchant our weapons.
As we walked to the armorer, we passed by a pokeout. A guard was standing in front of the door to the pokeout.
"What is in there?" we asked.
"A spent pokeout," he explained. "It's been here as long as the town has been here. If you want, it could be arranged to get you entrance to tihs pokeout." We politely declined and continued on.
The armorer was a gruff dwarf who complained about our manner of speaking. "You talk funny," he remarked. We explained that we were not from around here.
We spoke a bit about making magical weapons. He knew of a ritual that would transfer the magical enchantment from one weapon to another. He agreed to take gold as payment, as long as he could verify that the gold was pure.
He also had heard of a tavern that was popular and that we might be interested in. We walked over there and asked the tavern owner if there was a room to rent. He replied that there was a room but that he'd have to kick out the current tenant.
The room cost 4 gp to stay, and we'd need food and drink. The water from the well tasted better now (perhaps the curse was over). The food would be more expensive, since it was created magically.
The tavern owner advised us to wait at a table while he cleared out the room for us. Nearby, two Finders were talking to each other about a blip yesterday. During this blip, something went away and came back.
Carlagnios, our Dragonborn Fighter, wanted to intimidate them to get some information. Firinne, our Half-Elven Paladin, suggested a diplomatic approach instead. She and Garg, our Half-Elven Warlord, asked the Finders about the "blip".
"You wouldn't know -- you're not a Finder," one of them replied.
Carlagnios decided to intimidate them but the Finders seemed unconvinced. "Why not just sit down with us and have a beer?" one asked.
During this time, Ryn, our Eladrin Warlock, noticed an elf standing by the door. The elf quickly left, and Ryn tried to follow him but lost the elf in the streets.
Back in the tavern, one of the Finders introduced himself as Caleb. We asked Caleb about life in these lands and about pokeouts. "You go out into the Waste and find things. Sometimes you find a good pokeout, and once in a while, you find a useful item in it. You want to get the book on it."
"You can last a short trip without a Feeder," he continued. "If you want to learn how to be a Feeder, you need to learn the right rituals."
He eyed us closely, as if trying to judge our worth. "Some folks just go out and come back, honky tonky. They're not serious about killing."
At that point, there was a yell from outside. It was the elf that Ryn had seen. The elf was yelling at us.
"Come out and meet justice! They killed Lyle!"
At the town limits were narrow lookout towers, made of stone and wood. Two riders on lizard approached us. They wore floppy hats and badges to identify them as deputies. They did not seem hostile -- just curious.
"Are you going in to Sour Well?" one asked.
"The sheriff runs a tight ship," the other proclaimed. "No funny business."
We explained that we were merely travelers seeking shelter.
"Feel free to throw around your money," they advised, eying our clothes and equipment. It was clear that we were wealthy enough to afford some powerful armor and weapons.
The town was small (less than 100 inhabitants) but active. There was a mix of races -- Dragonborn, Halflings, Humans, Half-Elves, and Dwarves. Some walked together in groups. Perhaps these were parties such as our own. Not many had bows and arrows -- many had the iron wands that we saw earlier.
At the General Store, we bought working clothes, so that we would not stand out. Nearby, we found a maker of the iron wands. We purchased one with a bone handle, carved from a lizard. We also bought the magical powder (which made the wand work) and a couple hundred metal balls (which the iron wand shot into the air). We were pointed in the direction of an armorer in town who could enchant our weapons.
As we walked to the armorer, we passed by a pokeout. A guard was standing in front of the door to the pokeout.
"What is in there?" we asked.
"A spent pokeout," he explained. "It's been here as long as the town has been here. If you want, it could be arranged to get you entrance to tihs pokeout." We politely declined and continued on.
The armorer was a gruff dwarf who complained about our manner of speaking. "You talk funny," he remarked. We explained that we were not from around here.
We spoke a bit about making magical weapons. He knew of a ritual that would transfer the magical enchantment from one weapon to another. He agreed to take gold as payment, as long as he could verify that the gold was pure.
He also had heard of a tavern that was popular and that we might be interested in. We walked over there and asked the tavern owner if there was a room to rent. He replied that there was a room but that he'd have to kick out the current tenant.
The room cost 4 gp to stay, and we'd need food and drink. The water from the well tasted better now (perhaps the curse was over). The food would be more expensive, since it was created magically.
The tavern owner advised us to wait at a table while he cleared out the room for us. Nearby, two Finders were talking to each other about a blip yesterday. During this blip, something went away and came back.
Carlagnios, our Dragonborn Fighter, wanted to intimidate them to get some information. Firinne, our Half-Elven Paladin, suggested a diplomatic approach instead. She and Garg, our Half-Elven Warlord, asked the Finders about the "blip".
"You wouldn't know -- you're not a Finder," one of them replied.
Carlagnios decided to intimidate them but the Finders seemed unconvinced. "Why not just sit down with us and have a beer?" one asked.
During this time, Ryn, our Eladrin Warlock, noticed an elf standing by the door. The elf quickly left, and Ryn tried to follow him but lost the elf in the streets.
Back in the tavern, one of the Finders introduced himself as Caleb. We asked Caleb about life in these lands and about pokeouts. "You go out into the Waste and find things. Sometimes you find a good pokeout, and once in a while, you find a useful item in it. You want to get the book on it."
"You can last a short trip without a Feeder," he continued. "If you want to learn how to be a Feeder, you need to learn the right rituals."
He eyed us closely, as if trying to judge our worth. "Some folks just go out and come back, honky tonky. They're not serious about killing."
At that point, there was a yell from outside. It was the elf that Ryn had seen. The elf was yelling at us.
"Come out and meet justice! They killed Lyle!"
Melora, Defiled and Desecrated
After traveling East for a long while, I saw something in the distance: a rod to the left of us (like the one we saw before) and a white platform to the right. As we grew closer, I saw debris between them -- perhaps the ruins of a destroyed camp.
When we reached the rod, we realized that it was not quite the same as the rod we had encountered earlier. This rod had a burning, red, magical glow. And throughout the destroyed camp, we found bodies that had been dead for months.
The white platform looked like it was alabaster. There was a post about 30 feet above the ground and a stairway winding up. At the base of the platform was a shaft, where the mine started.
Tiny (our Dwarven Cleric) and Bran (our Halfing Rogue) climbed up the stairs and found themselves in an observation tower with filigreed benches. Tiny tried hitting things with Loom, which just ricocheted off.
Kale (our Human Mage) and the rest of the party followed. Standing on the platform, we felt a warm wind blowing. In the distance, we could see a thin post that marked part of the town.
We returned down to the base of the platform and examined the shaft. There were handholds along the shaft, going down into the mine. We dropped a torch and watched it fall some 70 feet before reaching the mine floor. We decided to make our way down there.
At the bottom, we found a narrow passageway that we followed. The passageway skirted around a petrified tree. Past the tree, we continued onward and found ourselves walking around a buried house that was filled with stone. In this world, there seems to be a whole history and civilization buried beneath the ground, and only a few traces of their existence "poke out" into the surface.
We followed the passageway as it worked itself around more trees and structures. We finally ended up before a set of double doors. Around the doors were the remains of some diggings. It was almost as though the miners never finished their work here. Perhaps something had interrupted them.
Carlagnios, our Dragonborn Fighter, had no patience for these theories. He kicked the doors down. Inside, we found a large room with an altar along the opposite wall. As we approached, we realized to our horror that this was an altar to Melora -- an altar that had been defiled and desecrated.
(Our party did not find consensus on whether the altar was defiled, desecreated, or both. We spent quite some time debating this point until Carlagnios threatened to come down on us with a rain of steel.)
The decorative floor, which once portrayed an idyllic forest scene, was now badly chipped. Firinne, our Half-Elven Paladin, was greatly angered by the state of the altar, and we started to fix the damage.
But we were interrupted by an attack by a group of monstrous creatures that looked like demonic gorillas, crabs, and insects.
Firinne managed to strike down the first demon with her blade. Kale put another to sleep, and Bran finished him off quickly. Kale killed another, and Carl and Tiny struck down yet one more. The demons began to despair -- one of the gorilla demons even began to sing in Abyssal.
Although we had taken much damage, Firinne called upon the power of Melora and strengthed our bodies. Tiny protected us with a powerful shield. Through the strategies of Garg, our Half-Elven Warlord, and the nightmares and blows of our Eladrin Warlock Ryn, we were able to destroy these demons.
We finished cleaning up the altar and noticed a small wite disk built into the wall. It was a small symbol, which looked like a pictogram of something.
It was similar to things we saw in the book we found on one of the elves that ambushed us earlier.
Kale attached the scarab to the disk as a test. The scarab stuck to the disk, but nothing else happened. Kale took a rubbing of the symbol for future reference.
Garg found a nearby treasure cache in a small room. The bodies of Dwarven miners were scattered about the room. Perhaps this was where they made their last stand.
In the room, we found a great axe and a hand axe. Kale discovered that both of them were magical, so we gave them to Carlagnios and Firinne. Kale surmised that these might have been Suri's weapons. We also found some gold and a large gem.
There was nothing else to be found in the mines, so we made our way back to the surface and continued our trek to the East. As the afternoon wore on, the clouds began to clear, and we saw a bright patch of light in the sky. Perhaps there was some hope for the desolate world after all.
That night, we made camp, and slept well to regain our energy. The next morning, we continued on and finally reached the town of Sour Well.
When we reached the rod, we realized that it was not quite the same as the rod we had encountered earlier. This rod had a burning, red, magical glow. And throughout the destroyed camp, we found bodies that had been dead for months.
The white platform looked like it was alabaster. There was a post about 30 feet above the ground and a stairway winding up. At the base of the platform was a shaft, where the mine started.
Tiny (our Dwarven Cleric) and Bran (our Halfing Rogue) climbed up the stairs and found themselves in an observation tower with filigreed benches. Tiny tried hitting things with Loom, which just ricocheted off.
Kale (our Human Mage) and the rest of the party followed. Standing on the platform, we felt a warm wind blowing. In the distance, we could see a thin post that marked part of the town.
We returned down to the base of the platform and examined the shaft. There were handholds along the shaft, going down into the mine. We dropped a torch and watched it fall some 70 feet before reaching the mine floor. We decided to make our way down there.
At the bottom, we found a narrow passageway that we followed. The passageway skirted around a petrified tree. Past the tree, we continued onward and found ourselves walking around a buried house that was filled with stone. In this world, there seems to be a whole history and civilization buried beneath the ground, and only a few traces of their existence "poke out" into the surface.
We followed the passageway as it worked itself around more trees and structures. We finally ended up before a set of double doors. Around the doors were the remains of some diggings. It was almost as though the miners never finished their work here. Perhaps something had interrupted them.
Carlagnios, our Dragonborn Fighter, had no patience for these theories. He kicked the doors down. Inside, we found a large room with an altar along the opposite wall. As we approached, we realized to our horror that this was an altar to Melora -- an altar that had been defiled and desecrated.
(Our party did not find consensus on whether the altar was defiled, desecreated, or both. We spent quite some time debating this point until Carlagnios threatened to come down on us with a rain of steel.)
The decorative floor, which once portrayed an idyllic forest scene, was now badly chipped. Firinne, our Half-Elven Paladin, was greatly angered by the state of the altar, and we started to fix the damage.
But we were interrupted by an attack by a group of monstrous creatures that looked like demonic gorillas, crabs, and insects.
Firinne managed to strike down the first demon with her blade. Kale put another to sleep, and Bran finished him off quickly. Kale killed another, and Carl and Tiny struck down yet one more. The demons began to despair -- one of the gorilla demons even began to sing in Abyssal.
Although we had taken much damage, Firinne called upon the power of Melora and strengthed our bodies. Tiny protected us with a powerful shield. Through the strategies of Garg, our Half-Elven Warlord, and the nightmares and blows of our Eladrin Warlock Ryn, we were able to destroy these demons.
We finished cleaning up the altar and noticed a small wite disk built into the wall. It was a small symbol, which looked like a pictogram of something.
^
/ \ |----
/ | \ |
/ | \ |----
| | | |
| |___ |
It was similar to things we saw in the book we found on one of the elves that ambushed us earlier.
Kale attached the scarab to the disk as a test. The scarab stuck to the disk, but nothing else happened. Kale took a rubbing of the symbol for future reference.
Garg found a nearby treasure cache in a small room. The bodies of Dwarven miners were scattered about the room. Perhaps this was where they made their last stand.
In the room, we found a great axe and a hand axe. Kale discovered that both of them were magical, so we gave them to Carlagnios and Firinne. Kale surmised that these might have been Suri's weapons. We also found some gold and a large gem.
There was nothing else to be found in the mines, so we made our way back to the surface and continued our trek to the East. As the afternoon wore on, the clouds began to clear, and we saw a bright patch of light in the sky. Perhaps there was some hope for the desolate world after all.
That night, we made camp, and slept well to regain our energy. The next morning, we continued on and finally reached the town of Sour Well.
The Necessity of a Finder, a Feeder, and Some Goons
Tiny, our Dwarven cleric, looked to the sky and noticed a vulture drake and its rider high above us. It was joined by another vulture that came out of a cloud. It was possible that they saw us, but they gave no indication and continued to head away.
We decided to follow the trail to the southwest. After a time, it started to rain. (As if the skies in this world were not dreary enough!) We found ourselves before a gully, where there were more broken boulders everywhere. We continued through the gully until dusk was upon us and it began to get dark.
Tiny stopped us and whispered that he heard a person behind a rock ahead of us. As he spoke, a half-elf, clad in leather armor, jumped out from behind that rock. The half-elf pointed an iron wand at us and asked, "Do you aim to fight?"
We diplomatically declined, and he said, "So everyone is copacetic, then?" He pointed to the sky as he approached us. "I've been seeing a lot of 'sky rats' today."
"Sky rats?" He must have been referring to the vulture drakes.
"Yes, sky rats. So many of them have been flying around that I think they might come back to attack us tonight. They prey on small groups. I wish there were some other groups of folks that we could stay with, so we could be safer."
He tilted his head and peered at us closely. "Say... you wouldn't mind camping together and sharing book, would you?"
"Book?" Then, we remembered that we still held the halfling's journal. "Yes, we could do that."
The half-elf smiled. "My name is Thacker." He motioned toward the rocks, and his comrades revealed themselves. There were three tough-looking men, who Thacker introduced as "Dun, Cal, and Pisspot." And there was one nervous and fretful person -- he looked like he was their Mage. "And this is Sikes."
Tiny eyed them with suspicion. He thought we could trust Thacker -- who seemed to be the boss of the group -- but not the others.
We made a campfire and set up our bedrolls, in preparation of sleep. Kale, our Human Wizard, explained to Thacker that we were in a "ruined pokeout" and that we were travelers from far away.
Thacker scowled. "You don't know how to share book. And you just don't go out into the Waste book blind! When you come out into the Waste, you come out with a Finder. A Finder has a book."
"Where is your book?"
Thacker glared back. "I'm not going to tell you where my book is!"
"Anyway," Thacker continued, "When you go out into the Waste, you always have a Finder, a Feeder, and some Goons. I'm the Finder."
We surmised that the Goons were Dun, Cal, and Pisspot. But the Feeder?
"Sikes is our Feeder," Thacker explained. "A Feeder makes the food. How? Magic."
We talked a little more to Thacker about who he was and where he came from. He was born and raised here, and he lived here all of his life.
He seemed very familiar with the area, so we asked him for directions. He knew of a camp where we could stay and "play some dice". But he wanted something in exchange for the directions. (Tiny thought that Thacker might be getting the better end of the bargain, but it was not an outrageous trade.)
Kale offered the location of the "pokeout" that we encountered. He told Thacker about the "moron" (the animata) that we found there, and how these were "squatters" (morons who could squat). I remembered how they tried to "squat" in our bodies and make us attack each other.
Kale also showed the symbols to Thacker, who examined them but would not explain them to us. "Finders aren't going to explain these things to you."
Thacker went on to give us the directions. "Go due east for two days. At that point, you'll see something -- a guidepost and a pokeout. Steer around these."
"Why? Are there more morons there?"
"No, not morons. I don't know what's inside, but it's bad. Suri and Tem had a mining operation there. They broke through into something bad. Their camp was burned down, and no one ever saw them again. For time to time, people go out to check and see if they can find them, but those people never come back again."
It sounded like an interesting area to explore, but we kept it to ourselves.
"Past that," continued Thacker, "you'll find the town of Sour Well."
"Sour Well?"
"Yes, there's a well in the middle of town, and the water from that well tastes like crap!"
"What about the 'Sky Rats'?"
"Don't worry -- they'll mostly leave you alone."
With that, we all prepared for bed. Thacker walked over to the boulders and stepped behind a large rock. Dun joked that Thacker was "playing with his rod," and Pisspot broke out laughing.
We were curious about what Thacker was doing, so Ryn (our Eladrin Warlock) decided to make a diversion. Bran, our Halfling Rogue snuck past the Goons and made his way to the rocks.
It was dark, and Bran could hardly see in front of him. But he could hear Thacker mumbling in some sort of ritual.
He snuck back and reported his findings. Before we went to bed, we talked with Sikes, who was working out a watch schedule.
"Sikes, could you teach us how to make food?"
"Why would I do that? If everyone knew that, no one would need my services."
"We know how to raise the dead. We could teach you that ritual. You could even try it out."
Sikes stared at us. "I don't want to do THAT. What are you, dense or something?"
And with that, we went to sleep.
The next morning, we parted ways with Thacker and his men. "I'm glad I'm not going back to Sour Well," he confided with us.
We followed his directions and headed due east, in search of the town with the water that tasted like crap.
We decided to follow the trail to the southwest. After a time, it started to rain. (As if the skies in this world were not dreary enough!) We found ourselves before a gully, where there were more broken boulders everywhere. We continued through the gully until dusk was upon us and it began to get dark.
Tiny stopped us and whispered that he heard a person behind a rock ahead of us. As he spoke, a half-elf, clad in leather armor, jumped out from behind that rock. The half-elf pointed an iron wand at us and asked, "Do you aim to fight?"
We diplomatically declined, and he said, "So everyone is copacetic, then?" He pointed to the sky as he approached us. "I've been seeing a lot of 'sky rats' today."
"Sky rats?" He must have been referring to the vulture drakes.
"Yes, sky rats. So many of them have been flying around that I think they might come back to attack us tonight. They prey on small groups. I wish there were some other groups of folks that we could stay with, so we could be safer."
He tilted his head and peered at us closely. "Say... you wouldn't mind camping together and sharing book, would you?"
"Book?" Then, we remembered that we still held the halfling's journal. "Yes, we could do that."
The half-elf smiled. "My name is Thacker." He motioned toward the rocks, and his comrades revealed themselves. There were three tough-looking men, who Thacker introduced as "Dun, Cal, and Pisspot." And there was one nervous and fretful person -- he looked like he was their Mage. "And this is Sikes."
Tiny eyed them with suspicion. He thought we could trust Thacker -- who seemed to be the boss of the group -- but not the others.
We made a campfire and set up our bedrolls, in preparation of sleep. Kale, our Human Wizard, explained to Thacker that we were in a "ruined pokeout" and that we were travelers from far away.
Thacker scowled. "You don't know how to share book. And you just don't go out into the Waste book blind! When you come out into the Waste, you come out with a Finder. A Finder has a book."
"Where is your book?"
Thacker glared back. "I'm not going to tell you where my book is!"
"Anyway," Thacker continued, "When you go out into the Waste, you always have a Finder, a Feeder, and some Goons. I'm the Finder."
We surmised that the Goons were Dun, Cal, and Pisspot. But the Feeder?
"Sikes is our Feeder," Thacker explained. "A Feeder makes the food. How? Magic."
We talked a little more to Thacker about who he was and where he came from. He was born and raised here, and he lived here all of his life.
He seemed very familiar with the area, so we asked him for directions. He knew of a camp where we could stay and "play some dice". But he wanted something in exchange for the directions. (Tiny thought that Thacker might be getting the better end of the bargain, but it was not an outrageous trade.)
Kale offered the location of the "pokeout" that we encountered. He told Thacker about the "moron" (the animata) that we found there, and how these were "squatters" (morons who could squat). I remembered how they tried to "squat" in our bodies and make us attack each other.
Kale also showed the symbols to Thacker, who examined them but would not explain them to us. "Finders aren't going to explain these things to you."
Thacker went on to give us the directions. "Go due east for two days. At that point, you'll see something -- a guidepost and a pokeout. Steer around these."
"Why? Are there more morons there?"
"No, not morons. I don't know what's inside, but it's bad. Suri and Tem had a mining operation there. They broke through into something bad. Their camp was burned down, and no one ever saw them again. For time to time, people go out to check and see if they can find them, but those people never come back again."
It sounded like an interesting area to explore, but we kept it to ourselves.
"Past that," continued Thacker, "you'll find the town of Sour Well."
"Sour Well?"
"Yes, there's a well in the middle of town, and the water from that well tastes like crap!"
"What about the 'Sky Rats'?"
"Don't worry -- they'll mostly leave you alone."
With that, we all prepared for bed. Thacker walked over to the boulders and stepped behind a large rock. Dun joked that Thacker was "playing with his rod," and Pisspot broke out laughing.
We were curious about what Thacker was doing, so Ryn (our Eladrin Warlock) decided to make a diversion. Bran, our Halfling Rogue snuck past the Goons and made his way to the rocks.
It was dark, and Bran could hardly see in front of him. But he could hear Thacker mumbling in some sort of ritual.
He snuck back and reported his findings. Before we went to bed, we talked with Sikes, who was working out a watch schedule.
"Sikes, could you teach us how to make food?"
"Why would I do that? If everyone knew that, no one would need my services."
"We know how to raise the dead. We could teach you that ritual. You could even try it out."
Sikes stared at us. "I don't want to do THAT. What are you, dense or something?"
And with that, we went to sleep.
The next morning, we parted ways with Thacker and his men. "I'm glad I'm not going back to Sour Well," he confided with us.
We followed his directions and headed due east, in search of the town with the water that tasted like crap.
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