Author Archives: Ranjr

We rejoin our four wayward heroes Bers the fighter played by Jenn, Vorwulf the archer/ranger and his protégé Draznor both played by Cris, and Grom the shaman played by Gil stopped in the middle of a hidden back road in Nor Forest. In front of them stands a man in full plate armor whom just declared himself Boshi Ironskin wielding a pudao seemingly waiting for them to charge. Behind him they could see what appeared to be another Ivoran, a mage wearing black and yellow striped robes and cape, yellow gauntlets, a high quality scimitar at his side. At either of his slight shoulders buzzed a large, 6 inch long, wasp. Vorwulf sighted a familiar face hidden in the bush behind these two, an archer wearing yellow silk with scaly skin known as Wu’ahm (see Pt. 25). Vorwulf shot at the hidden archer and stuck an arrow in him and he returned fire. Vor dodged the arrow. Grom tried to cast a spell but failed his casting check so the spell just fizzled out. Bers charged and was struck by a dusky skinned woman whom tumbled out from the bushes on one side of the road with a cutlass so she swung at her in a simul attack wounding her badly and forcing her into a recovery check before she could roll away. Draznor shot Wu’ahm the half-dragon archer and the striped mage cast a spell which summoned another comparatively large wasp different but similar in appearance to the other two. Wu’ahm shot Grom with three arrows at once one a critical hit forcing him to into a recovery check while the dark-skinned woman started to run away. Bers readied and waited for Boshi to rush her while it appeared he was guarding the mage waiting for someone to rush him. Draz aimed at the dark-skinned woman through the bushes she had run behind and shot her dead with a lucky shot. Vorwulf dueled it out with Wu’ahm with arrows killing him halfway through the second round being only lightly wounded by one of Wu’ahm’s arrows. Bers charged and took a power attack on Boshi her great sword blowing through his armor wounding him badly. He power attacked back slashing at her with his pudao but missed and was killed by her follow up strike. The striped mage sent the summoned wasp at Grom who dodged its dagger-like stinger. Draz shot the mage but the arrow bounced off of his robes. As they advanced on the mage, all 3 of his companions dead he surrendered all the while whining pathetically and begging for his life.

Vorwulf: “What’s yer name!”

Striped Mage: “Xanto, Xanto the wasp! Wait! Wait! Here, here’s my money just don’t kill me!” He tossed his hip purse at their feet.

Bers: “Should we kill him?”

Grom picked up the purse and emptied it into his hand. It was apparently a Hip Purse of Holding and out fell 6 potion vials, some coin which a few were stamped with the mark of Fertum Vorahd and a single gold talon stamped with the Coiled Dragon symbol. Vorwulf noticed as did Bers.

Vorwulf: “Where did you get that talon! Where’d you get the gold from!”

Xanto: “From the guy with the black mask on! The boss of tha’ guy that led you guys here! Their… the cult’s cave is at the end of this road!”

Vorwulf: “What are they called! Their name, their name!”

Xanto: “The Disciples of the Divine Flame! Please, please!”

The mage was slowly backing up the entire time as well as sweating profusely. The dragon-slayers conferred as to what to do with him but they forgot to keep an eye on him. As soon as all of their backs were to him he cast a spell on himself causing him to sprout golden-brown wasp-like wings and he buzzed off over the trees. Vorwulf and Draznor could have gotten a single shot at him each but decided to let him go as he was just a “hireling” anyway. They decided to go after the dragon cult and swallowed some of the potions that they were carrying realizing they were getting a bit low on healing potions though they gained 3 Closed Wounds potions from the hip purse. The rest, 1 potion of each Adhesion, Fly and Sharpen Smell they put back in the purse and let the shaman carry it. They began marching forward.

The hacked through the four draconian guards by the beginning of the second round and killed all four of the cultists’ pet dragonsauri. Lesser members fled their approach and they found themselves very shortly in the main chamber of the cultist lair. The chamber was massive and its floor sank 20 ft lower than the rest of the complex and they entered by way of a stone ramp-way. At the end opposite them was a 5 ft high dais accessed by two narrow ramps on either side. Atop the wide dais stood two cultists in yellow robes with the familiar flaming black spiral embossed on the front with one wearing a polished black dragon-skull mask and the other a white one. Each ramp was blocked by 2 human cultists dressed much the same but with chest plates bearing the cult symbol and armed with halberds. Two naga cultists armed and armored the same way sat in front of the dais. After dropping a naga cultist Bers got hit by a Slow spell cast by the white mask failing her saving throw. Vorwulf and Draznor shot at the two leaders and the shaman threw fire at the white masked leader finding the fire burnt off his robe but didn’t affect the scaled skin beneath also revealing the draconic wings protruding from his back. By the end of the first round one more cultist was killed and both of the leaders dead feathered with arrows but not before the white mask had hit Grom with a magical blast that forced him to make a recovery check. By the beginning of the second round they had killed all but one human cultist and promising to let him go he told them where the dragon Sawback’s lair was located. It was the mouth of a cave approximately 5 miles to the northeast, a big one from whence a large creek flows into the Estnik River a spur of the larger Nirix River. Just follow the bluffs of Hirok.

They were moderately wounded and were low on potions so they decided after they rest for the night they would go to Ekit’s Watch and try to purchase potions from the hedge-mage there. They also decided since the lair is obviously under or within Hirok they should check the north side for any other entrances into the dragon’s lair. Meanwhile the shaman was fascinated with an egg-shaped object of agate on a polished brass stand behind where the black masked cult leader had been standing when they rushed in. Ultimately he left it alone as it was too large to carry and it wouldn’t fit into the mouth of his hip purse. He didn’t sense any magic on it anyway. He also noticed the cave walls had a plethora of carvings and graffiti, symbols of various gods, cults and the vandalism of travelers. Some had been newly defaced and among the newest additions was the spiral symbol of the cult.

The next morning they found themselves in the dark storeroom ground floor of the tower called Ekit’s Watch which the eccentric mage which owned it had told them was called Raven’s Eyrie. He was wearing a bright red robe the deep cowl of which hid his face which must have been of a very strange elongated shape judging by the way the crimson hood draped over it. He sold them nearly a dozen potions of Close Wounds for a steep price which they paid without haggling. They then scouted out the north side of the Hirok bluffs and finding a cave they entered guessing this was the cave called Merchant’s Stow the mage of Ekit’s Watch had told them about when they asked about the north side of the hill. The wretched stench of carrion filled their noses and mouths with foulness. Within it was a bent cavern which contained some old molding crates and boxes as well as a couple of pits in the floor which opened into deeper caverns. Vorwulf descended into one of these with a lit torch while Bers stood by holding the rope. He found a larger cavern which curved around where he stumbled onto the rotting corpse of an adult wyvern. It had died of a severe wound which was a single bite that had nearly split it into two halves. He continued past it and found another opening which lead into a deeper and larger cavern beneath. Deciding this was the rear entrance to the lair he fetched the rest of the dragon-slayers and they entered the low cavern.

They found it a massive feeding chamber its floor littered with bones rotting flesh still clinging to most. Here they fought and killed 4 dragonsauri of a more wild variety than those that belonged to the cult. They continued on as the ground rose and found another ancient and apparently deserted feeding chamber with two passages exiting. The left rose and a bright greenish magical glow filled the large chamber at its end. The other to the right was shorter and glowed with the faint shimmer of sunlight on water. They went towards the sunlight and found themselves in a large chamber which opened to the outside with a large body of water at its center which was flowing out of the cave mouth. At the north of the chamber was a 20 ft. cliff at the top of which was an entrance to the chamber which glowed with the magic light. Immediately they were attacked by 4 draconians one of which was an adult and almost 10 ft. tall. They had glided from the top of the cliff with their short spears in hand at the adventurers. The fight didn’t last long with the slayers easily chopping through the monsters within two rounds. The group discovered that the glowing chamber had a large emerald at its center placed atop a stone pedestal shining with its own inner light which the shaman entertained the notion of taking until talked out of it by Bers.

Vorwulf: “Well, if you’re going to take it at least let us back out of the chamber first!”

They wandered around the caverns for a spell until they found their way to the High Chamber of the lair and were staring down the main shaft which led to the subterranean water chamber far below. The shaman drank the potion of Fly that they had taken from Xanto the wasp and he carried Draznor. Bers and Vorwulf dove into the shaft hoping once they were in complete darkness her Cape of Bat Flight would start functioning and she could catch and carry him. Surprisingly this actually worked. The water chamber was the largest chamber yet and snaked to the north and the south curving in such a manner as to conceal the end lengths of the chamber. Vorwulf was able to spot a faint flickering light at the north end and that’s the way they flew.

They came upon a bluff which dropped into the dark waters of the Water Chamber and atop that a large passageway with a high vaulted ceiling and lit by dozens possibly hundreds of oil lamps placed within the niches in the walls. There was a golden double door at the opposite end bearing the image of a ridge-back dragon. It was to these and over the dozen halberd-wielding cultists grouped at the center of the passageway. They fought with the cultists cutting them down though at the end of it Bers was now feeling the accumulation of all of the wounds she had suffered through all of the fights that they had experienced since entering the lair. She downed potions while the others tried to figure out how to open the massive gold doors all were also downing potions in an effort to heal their wounds. When all had drunk all of the potions that they were going to the doors opened and all could see old Sawback.

The dragon was 40 ft. long from nose to tail and probably a Great Adult. The gold diamond-encrusted claw sheath shone on its right forefinger and a gold necklace with a single large ruby glittered against its chest. Its throat puffed out and they could hear and feel the great rush of air as it inhaled. Bers, Grom and Draznor were terrified (failed their Courage Saves against the dragon’s Horror Factor) and Bers turned and fled. Vorwulf shot at it and planned on advancing. Sawback blasted them with its fire breath, Bers being fortunate that she had run outside of the maximum range of the flames. Bers was able to overcome her fear and turned and ran back to the fight determined to close with the dragon. Grom cast Dispel Fear on himself curing his terror but Draznor was paralyzed unable to conquer his fear until the end of the round. The dragon clawed Vorwulf dealing a fair amount of damage. Grom had to cast a healing spell on himself due to being badly burnt by the dragon’s fire breath. While fighting the dragon Vorwulf found his strikes were being stopped by a Mage Armor spell which he was going to have to chop away before he could make contact with the dragon. At the beginning of the second round the dragon again blasted the group with its breath luckily Grom was out of range. Draznor peppered the creature with arrows which was helping to knock down the magical field around it but knew his arrows may not do a thing to the creature itself even on a critical hit. Grom maneuvered around to what he thought would be a safe distance and cast Nature’s Ability on himself wings sprouting from his back. Bers and Vorwulf closed with the monster and hacked away at it. It took an attack of opportunity on each of them as they closed with it hurting them badly. They began to back away in turns and down a potion from their bandoliers while one fought and the other would run back in to fight allowing the other to fall back. The third round began to go their way as the field was finally knocked down and they dealt plenty of damage to it with Vorwulf “working the leg” trying to slow it down and Bers getting in a devastating power attack with her sword.  At the end of the round it swiped at Grom with its tail as he flew in approaching from above. In the fourth round of combat the dragon backed into its lair, a massive rounded cavern with another chamber to the north, south and west (directly behind the dragon) joined by gigantic chiseled archways. Bers got in a couple of power attacks, Vorwulf hung back to guzzle a potion and ran back in to engage the dragon while Grom pursued it by air and tried to cast a spell on it but his magic wasn’t strong enough to penetrate Sawback’s spell resistance. Draznor stayed back but remained within bow range but was taking a range penalty for the distance and kept hoping for a lucky shot with his arrows which kept striking and shattering on the iron-hard scales. The dragon blasted them again with its breath and tried to trample the two in front of it both successfully dodged, barely in each case. In the fifth round the dragon had positioned itself well using the trample and unleashed a fourth gout of flame-breath catching all but Draznor in the heat cone forcing Bers and Grom to make recovery checks to not get reduced to cinders. Grom moved as far back as he could winding up by Draznor. Vorwulf continued on the attack even though his potions were spent and he was badly injured and Bers dodged a strike from one of the dragon’s massive scimitar-claws. It snapped its powerful jaws at Vorwulf who tried to dodge but got chomped and swallowed instead. Bers swung her sword in a power attack at the end of the round and scored a powerful hit cutting the creature deep and splitting its side open suffering burns as she got sprayed with a flood of scalding dragon’s blood. The monster shrieked and as it collapsed Bers having to run away from the massive bleeding body as it came crashing to the smooth stone floor. A few minutes later Vorwulf emerged acid eaten and a bit worse for the wear having cut himself free of its gut. All four had survived but were all very badly injured. Bers’ and Vorwulf’s armor was completely destroyed or hanging off in shreds barely having enough hit points left to hold together. They surveyed the massive treasure filled chambers which glowed with firelight from huge solid gold braziers and various magical lights. What really caught their attentions was the massive mirror-polished vault door behind the dragon’s main pile of treasure in the far end of the north chamber. They decided to simply spend the night here and take account of the treasure, at least the bits they would plan to carry out after a good rest. They were careful however to avoid the hoard piles until they could figure out a way to dispose of the gold scarabs which were likely swarming within.

To Be Continued…

Leaving behind two columns of black smoke rising into the sky behind them from the Varidna Plain they made their way to Fertum Vorahd to gain some well-earned rest. They were disappointed at not discovering the dragon hoards they were expecting or being able to harvest any dragon-bone. The few days they spent there were occupied with purchasing another wagon and some donkeys to haul it, drinking in the tavern and being openly avoided by the remaining members of the Crossed-Staffs and keeping an eye on the ratlings which they occasionally caught watching and following them. Vorwulf recruited a protégé of his own named Draznor a human ranger/dragonslayer. After they were all fully recovered from their foray into the Varidna Plain they decided to “take care” of their ratling problem.

They decided to set a trap up for the ratlings by stocking up their wagon with their gear and the dragon-bone they harvested from the young Crimson Reaver then Vorwulf would lay in wait since his Hide skill was the highest. The others would wait around a corner or near the door in the tavern nursing some full tankards. They assumed that the street urchins were not going to bother their stuff since they were probably under the auspices of the Crossed-Staffs.

It took until late afternoon until a ratling took the bait revealing itself to approach the wagon but before it could presumably pull one of those magic flasks Vorwulf made his move and jumped out and shouted for his comrades. They pursued the ratling down the main street, the small creature unable to lose the pack of howling adventurers. They chased it out of the gates and beyond as it fled north into Morik’s Wood. Draznor was assigned to follow behind them with the wagon. It seemingly got away as they lost sight of it in the bush but Vorwulf was able to pick its track back up and they pursued at a more leisurely pace eventually coming to a clearing and once they walked to the center of the tree-lined ground a group of 10 cultists wearing yellow silk robes leapt from the bushes and crossbow bolts shot from the 10 ratlings hidden in the surrounding bushes. The first round was a stalemate as the adventurers and the cultists/tat-eyes did more maneuvering than anything else with Bers forced to wipe her eyes as a ratling assassin spat in them in a dirty fighting maneuver after revealing itself. Three of the thugs were dead by the end of the first round. At the beginning of the second round a roar ripped through the clearing form above and a brown-fang dragon wielding a giant-sized two-handed mace dropped through the canopy snapping branches. It had to have been 30 ft long from nose to tail but fairly light weighing in at around 960 lbs. It was wearing a steel pectoral plate bearing the insignia of the dragon-cult. The four battled the dragon and the ratlings with 2 more back-stabbing ratling assassins making their presences known at key moments but proving to be ineffective in turning the battle. Only 1 ratling assassin dropped by the end of the second round. By the end of the third round 5 ratlings, a second ratling assassin and the dragon were dead. At the end of the fourth round all but two ratlings were killed and the adventurers were only moderately wounded at worst and began chasing the surviving two ratlings down both of which fled north and were bleeding profusely. After an hour they came across the corpse of the first dead of its wounds and continued chasing the other which they found dead after another hour at the mouth of a cave. They were immediately attacked by 3 ratling savages who were all dead at the end of the first round.  They entered the cave determined to eliminate every ratling they came across especially now that they knew they were in league with the dragon-cult.

They tore through the cave complex which featured a subterranean river they found their way into a cavern filled with the cowering offspring of the Daggertooth ratlings defended by their mothers which attempted to engage the adventurers with their bare hands and teeth. Draznor was put out of action by a barbed javelin to the leg, nailed when the javelineer popped out from behind a stalagmite. Our heroes backed out of the cave and were swarmed by the tribals which they hacked through without a problem barely taking a scratch. Draznor was sent back to the entrance to keep watch for any reinforcements. They leapt over a chasm when the narrow planks that crossed them were kicked over by the ratling defenders, Bers flew over using her Cape of Bat-Flight. They eventually found themselves in a large chamber where the leaders of the tribe held court and by the third round they had eliminated them and taken their treasure a blue-steel chest with a mirror polish. Within it, after finding the key hidden on the chief’s corpse, they found a fair sum of coin of several different types and 10 gold talons and 6 bronze pigs. The talons bore the symbol of the dragon cult, the flaming spiral. Their aims achieved the dragon-slayers left for the fertum by the next morning.

They spent a few days in Fertum Vorahd trying to decide what to do. They still weren’t entirely sure where the dragon Sawback’s lair was located and decided to travel back to Merdna where the dragon cult seemed to operate openly and to call upon the corrupt druid under the pretenses of identifying the two items they had taken from the Black Cathedral (see Pt. 28). They were in Merdna as soon as Draznor was fully recovered. That day after flashing their cash all over town they were meeting with the presiding druid of Hirok-Nor and rumored dragon-conspirator. He was a perfumed fat-man who was rude, overbearing and draped in fine and expensive clothing his fingers and neck weighted with gold and gems. He became instantly courteous when he realized they were not the servants of his new clients but they were his new clients though he kept a perfumed handkerchief to his nose the entire time. He had introduced himself as Jeorwe the Priest of Hirok.

They handed him the ring and he immediately began to tell them what it was.

Jeorwe: “This is a ring of the Slayers of the Tower, a ring of dragon …” he trailed off then looked up at them with an expression as he if he were trapped.

He exhaled deeply and continued on, “A ring of dragon protection”. Vorwulf recognized the name attached to the gem-encrusted ring. It belonged to a legendary group of dragon-slayers whom mysteriously disappeared somewhere in the Great Delta (a still wild region far to the southeast) and are known mostly due to a song sung about their leader known only as Redtooth the mighty. They were actually a group from some of the very first test-games in which Cris had played, but not as Redtooth. An NPC bard hired by Redtooth to write and sing his epic had rolled a Natural 20 to write it and during its first performance in front of a full house some of which were bards. There were 5 rings which were commissioned by the group and were +5 rings of protection versus dragons. They handed the sword to the druid.

Jeorwe (as he turned the sword over in his hands): “This is interesting. You said you found it in some ruins in Varidna eh? It’s not extraordinary though it is magical. I have another client who wishes to remain anonymous that will be interested in this and will offer you a fair price.”

They knew that he was probably going to lie to them about what the sword actually was and told him they weren’t going to sell it and took their leave. They exited the backroom of the tavern which they had “rented” for the meeting and put Draznor to keep eye on any tails. They immediately went to find another magic user and found out the local Apothecary was in fact an Ivoran Alchemist. He identified the sword as a Dragon Bane weapon which could absorb the breath weapon of the last dragon it killed within its large pommel stone and the wielder could unleash it as additional damage on a strike. The runes on the blade read, “Suck the Breath & Drink Deep the Dragon’s Blood”. Vorwulf took the sword for his own and Bers the ring.

They then split the party in two with Grom the shaman and Draznor going off on their own and doubling back around so that they can keep an eye on the other two and anyone that may be tailing them. Meanwhile Bers and Vorwulf sported their new items, the ring and the sword, in public. It wasn’t long before the shaman and Draznor caught eye of street urchins spying on the other pair. Draznor was able to snatch one up and interrogate him getting the info that a cult member was waiting in the beerhall and wasn’t wearing his robes. After the kid described the guy Draznor tossed the kid a gold piece and told him to carry on with the job and to mention nothing of “this”. The group reunited in the beerhall and kept an eyeball on the cult member when he got up and left they followed. He departed on his horse from Merdna that evening with Draznor following and leaving sign for Vor while the others hastily prepared the wagon and their gear for the chase. They pursued him into the night as he rode hard first north on the road then suddenly cutting east leaving it and going into Nor Forest towards the hills/highland known simply as Hirok. They passed under the hateful gaze of Ekit’s Watch the long red banners bearing the black raven fluttering the night breeze. They lost him as he cut deeper into the forest but figured they could track him in the morning as their donkeys were exhausted. They also needed sleep and so laid down for a short nap for the few hours they had before dawn.

Late the next morning the four adventurers were tracking the cultist’s horse traveling southeast. After about 2 or 3 hours of travel on foot with the shaman leading the donkeys they came to a clearing and an obviously well-traveled and remote trail. As they broke the tree-cover they noticed a large man wearing a suit of full plate armor painted with the image of a horse severed in two on his chest. The armor appeared to be of Hyvalian design, the crown of his great helm had a horse-tail tassel and he had a pudao in his hands.

Armored Guy (in a strong Hyvalian accent): “I am Boshi Ironskin! Your heads shall fetch me a decent wage!”

To be continued…

Vorwulf (played by Cris), Bers (played by Jenn) and Grom the shaman (played by Gil) stood around a wide and ancient well. It was so completely covered by moss and fungus that it appeared as part of the landscape and the mossy stones that jutted from the ground next to it. They had arrived by late morn traveling from Varder’s farm and turned from the road tracking the Ivoran Merchants wagon trail easily straight of the mouth of the well. They had attacked a pair of “tat-eye” ratlings (they had begun calling the ratling savages this) which they had caught trailing them, the fight taking two rounds as they found the ratlings very hard to hit and both successfully fled the group of dragon-slayers. Vorwulf was tempted to track them down but as they were already “trailing a dragon” and upon inspection no dragon-bone had been missing he decided to let them go.

Looking down the well’s mouth they could smell the moisture and feel the cold draft coming up from the well its bottom masked in darkness. After tossing in a stone Vorwulf figured it 100 ft deep. They secured a rope to their wagon which they parked right next to the low stone rim and dropped it down. The first to go down would be Vorwulf then Grom and the finally Bers the logic being that if she should fall one of the others might catch her (I didn’t say it was sound logic). Both the ranger and shaman made it about half way, 50 ft down the rope. Bers on the other hand as soon as she descended on the rope pass the lip she slipped. She collided with the shaman knocking him from the rope and Vorwulf acrobatically leapt from the rope into a short tunnel dug into the slimy side of the wall. While falling the shaman cast the Swim Like Fish (see The Great Grimoire Vol. I) spell on his self and dove into the water 50 ft below breaking the vapors hovering over its surface. Bers crashed onto the water’s surface and sank like a stone due to her armor. She was wearing a star metal chest plate at this point which she was trying to unbuckle as she sank into the murky depths. Grom had to swim down to grab her and hauled her with some effort to a ledge just above the water. Vorwulf had observed that there were 2 other openings like the one he was currently squatting in. Each appeared to have been clawed into the rock and opened into moist dirt tunnels. He was absolutely certain this was a dragon’s lair of a species they had yet to encounter. From above the scene of Bers and the shaman below he could see something like a snake just under the surface of the water but could not make out what exactly it was in the gloom.

Vorwulf: “Lookout!”

Bers pulled the great sword she had taken from the ruins of Black Brow (see Pt. 6) and the shaman tried to take some cover behind her and prepared to sling a spell. The waters broke and a serpent-like creature rose up rearing like a viper. It was definitely draconic with a long beard hanging like wet Spanish-moss from its chin and a fin-like ridge running along its spine. The creature had to be easily 20 ft to 30 ft long and several hundred pounds in weight. The creature struck at Bers who parried its jaws with her sword then struck at it just missing as it dodged. Vor shot at it with his bow his arrows dealing some damage. Grom using magic threw fire at the monster which dealt very little damage. Its neck inflated as it sucked in its breath and exhaled blowing a narrow blast of noxious gas down at the ledge. Bers didn’t suffer the tear-gas effects of the stuff but was unknowingly infected with the same disease which had been ripping through the farmers. Grom jumped off of the ledge into water dodging the gas altogether. Vorwulf continued to shot down from his vantage point dealing virtually no damage. Bers swung at the creature but her blows were easily dodged by the serpent-dragon. At the beginning of the second round Grom leapt back out of the water as he realized he was essentially dead meat if it decided to pursue him. Luckily for him the gas had dissipated enough not to affect him. Vorwulf put his bow on his back and pulled his weapons. Bers swung and missed and the dragon again blasted her with its breath and again the shaman jumped back into the water avoiding it. Vorwulf leapt from the low tunnel mouth and slashed with both of his weapons as he careened down from above delivering two powerful blows to the creature using his acrobatic skill to flip in the air and dive into the water. Bers slashed at the enraged creature and hacked it nearly completely through. Black blood spilled changing the color of the water as its corpse sank into the depths of the well.

They wasted no time in climbing back out of the well claiming victory though they had no hoard or dragon hide or bone as booty. Vorwulf using his knowledge of dragons figured out it was a Guivere a serpentine water-loving dragon whose breath is a disease inflicting miasma. Grom on a hunch cast the Cure Disease (see The Great Grimoire Vol. I) spell on Bers. They began the journey back to the West Road and from there back to the farm to rest a little then track down that adult Crimson Reaver. As they approached the road they could see another draconian standing in the way and then after Vorwulf pointed them out, two ratlings coming in from the sides.

The fight was another quick one. One of the ratlings coming in from the side, especially fast mind you was shot dead by Vorwulf. The draconian was slain in a single stroke by Bers who was able to wrench her sword free of its corpse before it turned to stone the instant it died. Another ratling they had yet to spot stabbed at Bers which she successfully dodged. Vor spotted and shot at the other which was trying to sneak into the gap left by Bers when she charged the draconian. Probably to get to the wagon as it had a glowing flask in one of its hands. The ratling that had gotten close turned its knife on the shaman who could see the blade was covered in a poisonous looking substance and dodged the strike. As the flask wielding ratling kept trying to get close enough to through its payload Vorwulf targeted the flask and shot it. The ratling burst into a pillar of blue flame and was instantly reduced to ashes. The knife wielding ratling turned to run saving successfully against the spell leveled at him by Grom and being missed entirely by Bers. He was felled by one of Vor’s arrows which stuck up out of his back.

They returned to the farm by late afternoon and decided to use the “cow method” to bait the dragon into revealing itself but found the ranchers unwilling as they had lost “too many animals already”. It took would have taken some convincing but the party was not the most charismatic group so they purchased several very fat sheep for a hefty sum. So they decided to rest and take up the hunt the next morning probably leaving immediately after slaying the dragon to Fertum Vorahd. So Grom decided to buy a few chickens for some reason and put them in their wood cage on the wagon. The next morning most of the bait had been taken and Vorwulf began to carefully track the trail of bloody bits of wool and footprints which proceeded west towards the Varidvir Woods. It took them about an hour to catch up to the dragon which had by this time doubled back around on them charging at them when they reached the center of the wood.

Bers closed with it using a charge, it parried her blow then it spit its venom at her forcing her to dodge. Vorwulf shot at it and Grom threw some flames at it to little effect. It came to the second wave of turns and Vorwulf joined Bers in closing with the monster and Grom cast a Call Lightning spell and lost control of it (rolled a Natural 1 casting check). The area of effect was magnified to a 100 ft radius and struck everybody and everything within including the dragon, Bers, Vorwulf and the wagon. All were wounded save the shaman who was unaffected, the field of battle which was cramped with trees and bushes was now for the most part cleared and the remains and outer perimeter were now on fire. The oxen and chickens were killed however and the wagon was blasted to pieces. The battle continued with the adventurers and the dragon on full attack with Bers taking a tail swipe getting stuck with the dragons tail-spines (fortunately they’re not poisonous). The second round put all three slayers on the defensive at least once during the fight with Vorwulf being forced to dodge twice and getting rent in the dragon’s jaws. In the third round Bers was forced to dodge twice and was stomped on wounding her severely though she successfully landed a devastating power attack with her sword. By the end of the third round the adventurers were all badly wounded as was the dragon so it fled as fast as it could manage. The adventurers letting it go so they could guzzle some potions form the bandoliers before taking the hunt back up very well-knowing that the dragon would be fully healed by the time they were able to reengage it in combat.

With the burning Varidvir Woods far behind them they found themselves confronting the dragon again in the early afternoon within the Varid Wood approximately 8 miles southeast of the Varidvir Woods. Bers tossed another dancing ax into the air which she had in her equipment to lend them assistance and it began to fly about striking at the dragon which on its first attack snatched it out of the air with its jaws and reducing it to scrap metal between its teeth. The dragon was stunned by fumbling a claw attack against Vorwulf and falling on its face. By the end of the first round the shaman had missed the dragon when throwing fire at it hitting a nearby clump of bushes and trees setting the forest aflame. They continued to battle the dragon in the midst of the flames and easily took it down in the second round with only Bers being forced to dodge on her second action after nailing it with a power attack. Realizing they were in the middle of a forest fire they ran from the burning woods without being able to butcher out the dragon’s corpse. Hauling their gear in the two sacks and 1 backpack of holding that they carried with them they fled north stopping at the West Road.

To Be Continued…

A few days later we rejoin our pair of survivors in Merdna. After recuperating from their wounds and grieving for their lost companion they decided to try to bury the hatchet with the Crossed-Staff gang once and for all. Vorwulf and Bers tossed a street urchin a gold piece and told him to send word for the new leader of the Crossed-Staffs and meet with them at the beerhall. That evening a shaky small man, not wearing yellow, arrived and cautiously introduced himself as the acting “guildmaster” of the Crossed-Staff. Vorwulf simply put it to him that they were tired of killing his people and were willing to pay. They passed him a purse of gems and silver pieces amounting to a fairly great sum. He hastily accepted their offer and summarily made his exit. Cris’ reasoning was that if they were going to try to found a guild in the area they couldn’t conduct business with the local mob out for their blood.

The next day after purchasing new beasts of burden, a pair of strangely reluctant oxen, and their dragon-hide bandoliers heavy with potions they departed Merdna for another attempt at a foray into Varidna. By just after noontime they were approaching the fork at the edge of the Varid Wood having just passed through the latter part of the Pass Road where Dead-Eye had met his end. They had taken a lunch of trail rations by his grave before continuing on. As they neared the fork determined to take the northward path, the West Road, they spotted a strange creature step out of the shadow of the trees.

It appeared as a dragon-man with an elongated jaw and draconic face, a pair of horns and thick, scaly skin with a pair of small leathery wings on its back. The creature was armed with a falchion, a buckler painted black and wearing a bronze pectoral plate. Behind him filed 3 men with swords and unpainted shields wearing yellow silk robes bearing a black spiral wreathed in black flames. Wooden masks painted white and carved into the image of a dragon’s skull covered their faces. Vorwulf engaged with his sword and dagger, a fighting style reminiscent of his master, and Bers pulled her (currently) favorite magic ax and went to meet the dragon-man (their first Draconian). Bers fought with the draconian for the first round killing it and losing her ax in its death-throes as it immediately transmuted into a puddle of acid thereby destroying the ax and forcing her to dodge to avoid any acid-splash. Vorwulf fought with the swordsmen using a consistent combination of parry-simuls (simultaneous attacks). Bers waded into the skirmish with the swordsmen on the second round and picked off two as well destroying the last’s shield. Vor slaughtered the remaining fighter at the beginning of the third round. They inspected the bodies leaving the pool of sizzling acid alone of course. They found a piece of paper, Vorwulf was literate unlike his former master, but could not decipher the writing as it was probably in code but he did take note of the three symbols which were stamped on the bottom of the note. The first was recognizable as that seen around the left-eyes of the savage ratlings which had been raiding their dragon-bone supplies, the other the symbol on the robes of the swordsmen and finally a peculiar coiled dragon.

They continued on as they were not particularly injured from the encounter. They traveled on for a few more hours and as the time reached early evening they noticed that the Varidvir Wood was on the north side of the West Road. There was the sudden earsplitting sound of cracking wood and the trees flew apart and a dragon crashed into the road out from the Varidvir Wood. The creature’s scales were colored red, magenta, crimson and deep purple. Its horns and claws were gleaming blue-black with a long neck and lacking wings it had six legs. Spines ran along its spine gathering at the tip of the tail which it was whipping back and forth in agitation. The dragon roared and charged them.

Jenn: “I try to get in front of the oxes between the dragon and them so it can’t get ‘em.”

Me: “It’s not charging them it’s charging at you.”

Vorwulf (after a successful dragon-lore check): “Don’t that thing spit on you!”

They took it out rather quickly with Vorwulf claiming the deathblow on his second attack. They camped there for the night to allow Vor to skin and bone it. He realized it was a young dragon as it was only about 30 ft long from tail to nose and barely breaking 1,000 lbs. He had identified it as a Crimson Reaver (see Monster Magnus Vol.I) and was happy they had a new reserve of dragon-bone and hide. He then failed his roll to skin it and ruined the hide but boned it successfully. In the morning they continued west along the West Road.

They soon encountered an old rancher sitting out front of his ranch-house (a typical Westlander longhouse with a porch) smoking his pipe. He introduced himself as Varder and after finding out that they were dragon-slayers eagerly updated them on the local goings-on. He told them of the dragon problems they were having with the dragon, the slayers mentioned nothing of their killing the young dragon on the road, and when shown the symbols on the paper they had taken from the draconian he identified the ratling tattoo as the mark of the Daggertooth ratlings a savage tribe which make their homes in the North and Nor forests, worshippers of that old dragon. He told them of Sawback, the dragon which rules this region from the shadows using the ratlings to carry out his will and deliver messages. Rumor has it that the Druid of Hirok-Nor is in league with him.

Vorwulf: “Corrupt @$$ druid.”

They were also updated on the presence of a dragon cult that wears yellow silk robes.

Varder: “Ivorans I think. Came up this road here and went that aways.” He pointed east towards the Pass Road with the stem of his pipe.

Varder also mentioned the Black Cathedral when asked about any local ruins telling them that the land there was cursed and no one goes anywhere near that place when the sun goes down. So justifying their decision to seek the Black Cathedral out by convincing themselves that the dragon may have used it as a lair they immediately took off south off of the road. They had been instructed by Varder the old rancher that the ruins sat atop a low hill south of the North Road. They pulled their wagon up below said hill by early evening. The ruins were indeed the remains of an old cathedral built by the Hyvalian Theocracy probably over 100 years ago give or take. Its stone walls were indeed black, fire blackened that is. The slit set high up in the walls and empty. The front entrance gaped the interior visible but cast in deep shadow and mote polluted beams of golden light shot through the west-facing slit windows and the multitude of holes in the old lead roof. The floor of the nave was covered in detritus and dirt, the flags beneath being completely buried. They carefully entered the gutted building and spent some time tiptoeing around as they checked it out. They avoided the choir since they could see a large statue on a raised platform of a young man in possibly monk’s garb in supplication praying due to their (or at least Bers’) past experience with statues in lonely places. They found a crusted bronze door recessed in the west wall which Bers kicked down. In the small and strangely clean and barren room behind they found a stairway down through the floor. They descended and made their way through a subterranean complex of rooms and fought with the denizens found there including 2 blackened mummies, 4 undead skeletons and scarab swarm summoned by the last mummy. They reached the last chamber after defeating the last mummy and using a bottle of lantern oil to defeat the swarm. They found a room littered with black and crumbling bones with a small silver casket at the far end set in niche in the dirty plaster wall. They were both badly wounded at this point having been hit at least once in each fight. They were debating whether or not to enter the chamber but as they looked on a roiling black mist began to seep into the chamber from between the cracks in the floor along with an audible moaning coming from below. Vorwulf dashed in and snatched the casket.

Vorwulf: “Run, run, run!”

He tore off for the door as did Bers. The black mist having flooded the final chamber, hideous faces filled with pain and horror could be seen swirling randomly about within it and as they ran it followed. Vorwulf barely jumped over the threshold of the entrance to the nave as it caught up to him and made a snatch at him with a smoky claw. There it waited and slowly began to ease outside staying within the shadow of the building. They both noted this peculiar action and realized it was now dusk and rushed to their wagon committed to fleeing as far as possible from the Black Cathedral as they could. They looked black at the silhouette of the building against the red-orange dusk.

They continued moving for a few hours until they reached the farm house of Varder and threw down their sleeping rolls for the night. At dawn they opened the casket and found a longsword with a razor-sharp blade and covered in decorative runes. Its grip was wrapped with gold wire and had a large rock-crystal pommel stone. The only other item in the casket was a gold ring emblazoned with tower of inlaid adamantine with an onyx dragon winding about it. The ring was encrusted with diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires. They were pretty sure the stuff was magic but had no way to tell until they got back to a decent sized settlement. They took breakfast with Varder and his family and went to investigate another dragon sighting finding a footprint which Vorwulf identified as those of an adult Crimson Reaver. They also noticed a couple of shrouded bodies and were told that a sickness was sweeping through the ranches and seemed to start in the west. They told them of a shaman who crept in from the wilderness was trying to help the victims for the past week or so but was so far unsuccessful.

They found and talked this shaman who introduced himself as Grom (played by Jenn’s brother Gil). He told them that even his spiritual arts have had no result leading him to believe that the plague is supernatural. An Ivoran merchant caravan passed along the West Road early that evening and stopped at one of the farms where they had the farmers send for the shaman. Bers and Vorwulf followed Grom to them. The group found that several in the caravan were also sick, all those who had drunk from an old well they had found a mile or so off of the road.

To Be Continued…

We pick the story back up as Bers, Dead-Eye and Vorwulf depart the large town of Merdna by the lake the city arms consisting of a crossed hammer and axe silhouette against a background of deep green waved in the breeze. The previous few days they had met the Brothers Dracorian, a small gang of Hill-Lander thugs who were at odds with the Crossed-Staff gang and offered to be the slayers’ informants. A berserker cult, the Coiled Serpents, have been strolling about town causing trouble probably just waiting for violence to explode between Asternor and Achoran over the control of river trade. They were already taking bids from the competing merchant guilds. Merdna was probably going to take a neutral stance if hostilities went that far. They also bought some info which told them of an ancient dragon which held sway over this land for centuries named “Sawback”. They also found out that the town was the primary residence of Hirok-Nor’s druid and his apprentice. The druid was draped in jewels and appeared to have expensive tastes but where he was getting the cash the group could guess. The manor-house of Lord Vorahd was also within the town. The day before they left they talked to a survivor of the “North-Cross Massacre”. The man’s compatriots, a merchant caravan, were killed by a winged creature which slithered away during the night. The creature had gone southeast as far as he could tell. They mulled all of this information over as they sauntered through the gates.

They took the Sirti Road, a short 4 and a half mile stretch, traveling west to Sirti. They entered the town just after midday which was located at the base of one of the low Sirti Mountains on the top of a flattened hill surrounded by a cyclopean stone wall. Its banners bore crossed black hammers hovering over a grey block of stone against a field of orange. Sirit was populated mostly by Westlander Hill-Giants which ran the town’s mine and worked the local quarry both of which bored into the root of the mountain. Everything in town was built on foundations of stone and had massive entryways and cavernous ground floors of every building. They secured a space near the front gates for a pittance and left Vorwulf to care for their donkeys. They took up seats in the local tavern and at about the third round and after they enjoyed a sumptuous meal for which they had thrown down silver, gold and the last of the fliks they were carrying. They had collected some information mostly about a place called the Black Cathedral, it was a shunned place and they got the usually, “but you better leave that place alone,” speech so they marked it down as a to-do. As that was out of their way they talked it over as to whether or not to travel to Fertum Vorahd 6 miles by road to the north first or make a right at the crossroads which would take them into the Sirti Pass/Pass Road and after onto the Varidna Plain. They discussed the ratling savages which they occasionally caught sight of trailing them but dismissed them with the words, “we’ll track the little b@$%*&ds down the next time they steal from us”. They eventually made the decision to not waste any time in getting to the Varidna Plain and their quarry.

It came to the middle of the next day as they had just made it through the pass to where the road dropped onto the Varidna Plain passing between the foothills of the Sirti Mountains. As they approached the fork in the road splitting the Pass Road into the West road and the North Road which would take them southwest they noticed there were large berms of piled earth on either side of the road and Dead-Eye warned the group to slow and tread carefully. Directly in front of them about 50 ft away where the berms ended a hill-giant stepped out into sight wielding an iron staff, the gold necklace on his neck glinting in the sun. He was followed by Taga his Ferenoi mate. Thugs with crossbows trained on them appeared at the tops of the berms on both sides of the road, leading them on top of the southern berm was the familiar Thug Captain (see Pts. 23 & 24) his yellow waist sash flapping in the wind. Behind them two more hill-giants identical to the first and similarly armed stepped out into the road. They all had smug grins on their faces.

Giant Leader: “Well, well, well. Look who we have here!”

Cris/Dead-Eye to Jenn/Bers: “Looks like this is it we’re taking these f*&#ers down!”

The captain was the first to act firing a crossbow bolt into one of their donkeys killing it. The giant leader grasped his necklace which was in the shape of a lightning bolt and spoke a strange, alien word aloud. Arrows of electricity which boomed like thunder when they struck rained down on Bers and Dead-Eye hurting them both and deafening Bers. Taga charged and engaged Bers immediately and her mate met Dead-Eye in melee combat. The four thugs on one of the berms fired their crossbows at the wagon and Vorwulf whom took a couple of bolts but was barely scratched but the other donkey was dead. Dead-Eye was landing just about every attack he made with his sword and bowie knife and holding his own but the giant was landing just as often. Bers was swinging and missing with her axe as the amazon was landing more and more with the tips of her double-spear. Vorwulf was assailed by one of the other giants and forced to dodge and take cover nearly being killed by a single blow. Bers retreated to defend Vorwulf as Dead-Eye was too far forward and cut-off by the amazon Taga. Bers hit the second giant easily hurting him but taking the heat off of Vor. Dead-Eye was forced to make a recovery check to not be killed by a blow from the giant leader and his armor was essentially shredded and not providing much protection at the moment. The third giant moved in to attack Bers but was too slow and she was attacked again by Taga. By the beginning of the third round it was evident that they were losing and losing bad. All three were badly wounded and their armor was either completely gone or almost gone. Then Bers pulled off a power attack against the wounded second giant spilling his guts all over the road after pulling away from Taga. Vorwulf tried to run away to a small knob with a tree growing on it in order to pull a few potions and maybe so he could take a few shots and even the odds a little. The Captain and his thugs just looked on with loaded crossbows at the ready cheering. Dead-Eye was forced into two more recovery checks in order to survive the battle with the giant leader and he was almost as badly wounded to where only a single successful blow dealt to either would decide the duel. The third giant charged Vorwulf and bashed him into unconsciousness and prepared to deal a coup de gras blow waiting in order to savor his victory. Bers got hit hard, tripped then got pinned by Taga’s spear to the ground. The amazon’s bloody face locked in a bare-toothed grimace of hate. Bers reached for her belt and pulled the Mallet of Harm. The giant leader then scored a strike roll of a natural 20 and Dead-Eye failed to dodge with a Natural 1. His limp and broken body was flung 30 feet before smashing face first into the dirt of the road. Bers hit the ground with the mallet even though Taga twisted the spear hoping to stun her with pain. The magic rippled in all directions along the ground dealing enough damage to reduce the thugs and their captain into a red mist which coated everything it touched with blood. Taga’s equipment and jewelry dropped to the ground with a splash of blood drenching Bers. The remaining two giants shrieked and gasped blood exploding from their wounds as they died.

Bers limped over to Vorwulf, snatched a potion from his bag and poured it down his throat though he did not wake he was no longer bleeding out then collapsed to the grass. They both awoke at dusk and appraised the situation. They dug a grave for Dead-Eye burying him with his equipment he was loaded with magic items and money of various kinds, and set up a tombstone of a 20 lb. stone to mark it. They saluted their slain companion and moved through the night pulling the wagon behind them trying to avoid any potential encounters with anyone or anything. They moved at frantic pace deciding to return to Merdna completely exhausted and still badly wounded.

To Be Continued…

So, after purchasing a pair of domesticated diatryma imported from the south for their wagon they got their little foray to the ruin underway. They began on Hill Road and made it north and followed it as it turned east at the Southern Hills and as it approached the edge of Estlavir Forest which concealed half of the East Bend. They reached the point on the road where the Southern Hills were at their left (to the north on the compass) with the forest ahead and to the right (south) of the road. It was approaching evening and they had about an hour before they had to look for a good camping site when Dead-Eye spotted a dragon flying furiously towards their position from the rear (west).

The dragon appeared to be a grayling but spotted with bright patches of red scales fortunately it also appeared to be a young one. Bers shot at it with her crossbow and missed by a mile. Dead-Eye got a shot off on it as it flew in wounding it badly using up his last dragon-bone arrow. It exhaled a cone of fire as it strafed them roasting the birds hauling their wagon and scorching it black. Vorwulf shot the dragon hurting it badly before it flew out of range. Bers began to reload her weapon while Dead-Eye to another shot carefully aiming as it was near the end of the range for his shortbow. His aim was true and the dragon crashed into the forest a ways off with a shriek. They were determined to get to the corpse and skin and bone it. It was then that they noticed ratlings ducking and fleeing at the edge of the trees. They appeared to be of the savage kind and the few that they got a clear look at bore tattoos around their left eyes. Bers and Dead-Eye barreled through the trees shouting to Vorwulf to take care of the wagon and meet them at the bend!

It was well dark before they got to where the dragon’s corpse had landed and remained hidden in the bushes as they approached as they caught site of a dozen or so savage ratlings gathered around the body. The apparent leader was lifting an eerily glowing jewel above his head and mumbling what appeared to be a prayer. The chanting ratling appeared unusual in that he seemed to scaly skin rather than hair. He soon tossed the gem at the corpse and it exploded with a violet light which turned into bright blue flames surrounding the corpse reducing to ashes in an instant and with that the mischief scattered as Dead-Eye and Bers watched with mouths agape. They tried to track the ratlings following their tracks for about an hour heading in a northeasterly direction but eventually losing the trail. They decided to turn back after Dead-Eye failed to pick it back up.

They met with Vorwulf a short while later at the bend. He had pulled the blackened wagon to the bend by himself and had set up a decently concealed campsite without a fire as he had cut the choicest bits of the wagon-birds for food.

Cris (Dead-Eye’s player): “Hey why waste it. I don’t have time to hunt today besides Dead’s tired of trail rations.”

Bers snatched up a leg and began munching. Late that night those sleeping were woke by an unusually loud and deep wolf-howl. Vorwulf due to his previous experience with a certain pack of wolves (see Pt. 22) was not happy though he had bonded somewhat with Rrhga the sentient wolf (see Pt. 23) when they had hunted together on the road while traveling to Hirok-Nor from the Falmark.

The next morning Dead-Eye and Vorwulf found ratling tracks around the campsite and spent a few minutes pondering the mystery of who they might be working for. They began following East Bend into then out of the forest and when it began to turn north they stayed north going off of the road into the Ot Lake farmlands. They encountered a farmer whose land they cutting through on the first day who told them about a hungry and unnaturally large wolf that has been killing their animals recently. It had been sighted but ran away north towards the hills. He also told them out about a hedge-mage who’s taken up in the ruins of Ekit’s Watch and exacts a high price from the local farmers here and around Merdna for his services. He’s been threatening curses on their crops and pox on their livestock and families. They have been paying in money, goods, crops and on occasion a daughter. That got Bers’ dander up but Dead-Eye didn’t want to “mess with no wizard” so they stayed focused on reaching the ruins of Robber’s Roost. They spent the day wandering around the base of the hills after spanning the farmers’ lands. They then encountered a hill-giant who seemed to be good-natured but mute. He didn’t carry any weapons aside from a large but crude knife and a hide kilt. On guard they started to try to communicate which took a while and since neither Vor nor Dead could find a trail over or through the hills for the wagon they asked the giant. He nodded his head acknowledging that he did know a path and offered to guide them. Night was falling however and they decided to camp at the base of a hill.

Jenn (Bers’ player) to Cris: “Hey. You don’t think the giant’s a werewolf?”

Cris: “Nah. He [meaning me of course] wouldn’t do that to us.”

The next day the giant led them up into the hills and though the path was wide enough for the wagon it was still rough going, the local farmers simply take the East Bend going around the hills, especially tough since they were pulling/pushing it along. They made it through the hills by evening into Ot Lake and the farmlands thereabouts. They still needed to cross another set of hills further to the north on the other side of Ot Lake and asked the giant about those and found he would guide them through those as well. So they set camp on the shore of Ot Lake and started a fire. Around first watch with Vorwulf on duty the giant walked away northward. On second watch Bers saw a large black wolf around the edge of camp seemingly afraid to step into the firelight and soon ran away after she woke the other two. On the third watch, Dead-Eye’s watch, he saw a large bird shape, like that of a great black raven fly over camp. In the morning the hill-giant came striding into camp with a freshly dead cow slung over his shoulder its throat appeared to have been ripped out. The giant had already crudely dressed the carcass. They put two and two together but decided to let it go. They cooked the beef and found themselves eating a good breakfast well into late morning.

Later that day as they reached the top of the Ot Hills they could see Robber’s Roost less than a mile off and directly north of them as well as a large hill-like ridge to the northeast near the height of a low mountain rising lazily above the trees of the Nor Forest. At its westernmost tip they could see a 50 ft high tower set on top of a hill flying a red banner about 4-miles off. They assumed that was Ekit’s Watch and as they traveled down into the glade towards Robber’s Roost the giant stayed behind and waved bye.

They reached the ruin and stashed their wagon in the bushes, Vorwulf deftly camouflaging it. They inspected the tower which looked like an ancient watch tower its pale walls pocked with holes dug by birds. The wood doors on the front however looked new and were painted to look old and weathered. One of the double-doors was hanging open and Dead-Eye checked the ground finding a fresh trail of footprints coming and going. They decided to proceed with caution and prowled into the dark interior of the tower. The inside was unusually well kempt and looked to have been recently swept. The bottom floor was barren saver for a set of stone steps which wound up to the second floor. Dead-Eye also spotted a suspect flagstone on the floor in a far corner which may conceal a hollow underneath. They proceeded up the steps and walked into the second floor. The room was far sized and comprised of the whole floor. All four walls had two arrow slits and on the floor scattered randomly about where bedrolls and packs of gear. At the center of the room was a weapons rack with a sword and a couple of wood staves on it and a table with four chairs and a few oil lamps on its worn boards. The center of the ceiling above them was open to the upper part of the tower which was intact enough to form a ridge along the inside edge at the walls and along that ridge were dozens of clay and glass jars and some casks some of them broken and others studded with crossbow bolts. A fixed wooden ladder went up from the floor to the ridge. They decided to go back down to the bottom and investigate the suspicious flagstone as they had guessed that Robber’s Roost was currently being used as a highwayman’s hideout, probably the Crossed Staffs gang, and that they probably stashed some loot under the floor. They left Vor upstairs to keep an eye out if the criminals should return.

Bers borrowed Dead-Eye’s iron crowbar after they found the stone stubborn and easily pried it up. A cloud of poisonous gas sprayed out, Dead-Eye was unaffected as he had a Ring of Breath Without Air. Bers however, was hit full in the face and suffered some strength damage and hit point damage having failed her Fortitude saving throw. They found a hollow in the floor ripe with a small chest. Prying that open they found it contained some gold coinage and a handful of potions. Just then Vorwulf came down and quietly got their attentions leading them back up to the second floor in time to spy a group of 6 Crossed Staff thugs entering the tower. The group took up positions in the room readying to pull off an ambush as the thugs entered. Vorwulf squatted on the far side of the room and covered the doorway with his bow. Dead-Eye and Bes got against the wall on either side of the doorway ready to strike the first ones through. It wasn’t long before they heard booted feet jogging up the steps along with shouts, “check the upper floor!”

The first through the door was a fairly skilled swordsman wearing a steel pectoral plate over his yellow tunic whom was able to avoid Dead-Eye’s initial blow and dodge into the room. He was immediately followed by a knife fighter who spotted Bers and immediately backed into the room and threw a knife at her, she dodged it and clanged into the wall imbedding itself in the plastered stone. Vorwulf shot at the knife fighter hitting him in the back wounding him some his scale mail vest protecting from most of the damage. Four more thugs wielding short staves filed in. The fight lasted for three rounds with the swordsman being the last to fall dropping at the beginning of the third round. Dead-Eye had been wounded pretty badly by the swordsman and Bers had taken some wounds from the knife-fighter and was reduced to whacking his head off using called shots to the neck since her reduced strength had dragged out the fight but was not that hurt in the end. Vorwulf was also hurt but still in good shape comparatively having taken a few knocks by the staves and the point of a thrown dagger. When they searched the place again and the area around it they found no more gang members but found that their wagon had been pilfered of all the dragon-boned which was not being held in the sack of holding. Both rangers saw the multitude of ratling footprints around it. Dead-Eye immediately began to track the prints cursing to himself the whole time with Vorwulf helping him. They tried to follow the spore for several hours until it got close to evening. The ratling had split up and though they were all moving in a northeasterly direction they either disguised their tracks too well to follow or were leading their pursuers in a circle. The three decided to break off the chase and went back to the wagon. They snatched up the loot and moved as fast as they could back over the hills where they would camp. It took another 3 days for them to get back to Asternor.

The morning after getting back to town they decided they were going to travel to the Varidna Plain in the northwest as they were dragon-slayers and there were dragons about there. Figuring they didn’t know their way around the Hirok-Nor region they found a cartographer and he had a map of the area ready-made.  They picked it up for a very steep price but which they could easily afford. They then stopped by the fletchers’ shop as the dragon-bone ammunition should’ve been finished by their reckoning. They found that the master fletcher’s throat had been slit and all of the dragon-bone had been stolen. Cris wasn’t happy at hearing that and let out a pretty long stream of cusswords.

They left town immediately and were going to make their way to Merdna and from there they were going to go through the Pass Road which passed between the Sirti Mountains and into the Varidna Plain.

To Be Continued…

The archery contest was set for the next day. As they rode the river ferry, basically a raft, they spoke with the ferryman. They found out about a ruin nicknamed Robber’s Roost about 10 miles north of Asternor past Ot Lake and about 4 miles south of Merdna, another trade town similar but to but smaller than either Achoran or Asternor. They were again reminded of the dragon troubles the farmers of Varidna were having on top of the plague and crop blight that they were suffering. They entered town taking note of the flags that were being flown bearing the image of brown ram’s horn pierced by an arrow with white fletching against a yellow field.

They secured rooms in the second story of a tavern which was teaming with foreigners and travelers most of who were wielding some kind of bow. They drank in the tavern instead of the beerhall (which flew the heraldry of Fertum Vorahd, the white wooly ram’s head with golden horns against a green field) as the tavern being more expensive and lacking locals (locals drink free in beerhalls) it was probably safer. Later at late afternoon they found a fletcher and commissioned a quiver of dragon-bone arrows which would be ready in 8 days. Cris was worried as their supply of raw dragon bone was running low and he had only a couple of dragon-bone arrows left. They then went and registered for the tourney at the cost of a gold piece each and gave their names to the scribe.

The next day they found themselves in an open field just outside the city-palisades between the northwest running High Road and the more southerly western running Low West Road. The contest began at mid-morning with a carnival atmosphere, exhibition empty-hand fighters, jesters/actors and gypsies were along the road presenting entertainment, selling refreshments and trinkets and running scams. The field was packed; a farmstead could be seen in the distance about 2 to 3 miles off directly to the west. A portion of the field was cordoned off for the contestants with them shooting from decently enough crafted generic longbows supplied by the promoters at varying types of targets and different phases of the competition. There were spinning targets, targets that moved and/or ducked and large hay targets at varying distances. The prize was to be revealed to the audience and the contestants by Lord Vorahd when the final two contestants faced off. It started with over 100 participants and took only till high noon to be whittled down to a handful. Both Vor and Dead-Eye made it to this phase of the game. By late afternoon only Dead-Eye and one other were left. Vorwulf’s string snapped in mid-pull thereby disqualifying him. Dead’s opponent was named Wu’ahm a Hyvalian half-dragon/human the dark brown scales over the cheeks and nose contrasted with the light human shade of the rest of his exposed face. He was clad in a yellow silk cape embroidered on the back with sea horse, polished high quality green scale-mail and yellow silk pants. He had brown leather gauntlets and polished black knee high boots. His black hair tied in a topknot.

Both men had made an impressive showing up to this point and bets were readily being made in the crowd en masse.

Bers: “I’m taking some of that action!” She shelled out 100 gp on Dead-Eye to win.

Lord Vorahd made an appearance stepping down from the stands built for him and his family next to that built for the Asternor Civil Council clad in deep green drapery. He announced the names of the two who were competing for the prized and held up a solid gold arrow of obvious superior quality which he had found on an outing and thought it interesting to offer as the prize. The crowd was awed. The contest continued into the last round.

They began shooting their last four arrows and both were hitting bull’s-eyes and even splitting their own first and second arrows with the second and third. It came to the last volley for the prize and the crowd was hushed by the palpable tension that settled onto the field. The dragon-slayer was drenched in sweat as the sun continued to beat down on his shoulders. His opponent was focused and all too dry. Dead-Eye wiped his forehead. The two knocked their last arrows, drew back their bows and shot. Dead-Eye was just off center, the Hyvalian had struck dead center splitting his third arrow (he rolled a natural 20). After the crowd dispersed around late afternoon the group went to the beerhall to drink and ask around for information on Robber’s Roost and how to get there.

They saw that Wu’ahm was there fending off a crowd of archery fans with an air of typical Hyvalian arrogance. Dead-Eye tried to congratulate him and the man just brushed him off as well. Dead-Eye shrugged and went back to the table occupied by Bers and Vor to, in Cris’ words, “get stinkin’ drunk.”

They were determined to head off north and follow the Hill Road into the part of the road called the East Bend around the Southern Hills and break form the road there. They would then cut across, still traveling north, through some farmlands and make their way over the Ot-Norian Hills finally coming at least within sight of the ruins called Robber’s Roost. They were warned away by just about everybody they had asked about it. Especially since a few “fools” had went nosing around up there recently and summarily disappeared without a trace. This only encouraged them.

To Be Continued…

They intended to stay in town and “rest” for the 10 days that it would take for their commissioned gear to be ready for pickup. They spent the time going back and forth from their room in the Hammered Helmet and the beerhall located on the main street across from the market place. So around day 7 they were randomly shopping, checking out the shops and merchant tents in the marketplace when they saw a vendor being harassed by 4 Crossed-Staff thugs basically pulling a protection extortion racket. Both being good-guy (good aligned) characters they stepped in when it looked like they were going to beat the guy up which of course ended up in a brawl where two of the four thugs ended up dead. The other two fled and at the sound of the approaching guards our two heroes fled as well ducking into a dark alley as the guards ran by the shop-keeper unwilling to point them out. They were not alone.

Leaning against a wall with a nonchalant air about her was a pretty red-headed violet-eyed woman with half of her face concealed in shadow and a wave of red bangs. She was wearing an arming doublet, polished bronze bracers on her arms, and polished greaves on her legs. On her side was a rapier and what appeared to be two daggers on her arming belt.

Red-Haired Woman in a light Ivoran accent: “Nice Skills. So you’re the dragon-slayers I heard came into town. Suppose you have a few enemies.”

Neither answered, their grips creaked as they clutched their naked, bloody weapons. The players seriously considered just cutting her down. She just grinned from the visible corner of her mouth as they ran past her down the alley. After they broke into the street after wiping off their weapons and sheathing them in the alley Dead-Eye sighed, “I know I’m gonna regret not killing her.” Bers just shrugged.

They made a round about the town and after an hour of walking they returned to the marketplace and began to enter the beerhall when a masked man burst from the saloon doors bumping into Bers and as he ran away he hissed, “See you at dawn!”

A ruckus could be heard in the hall and when they entered they found a crowd surrounding the body of the man Bers had drank with (see Pt.23); the one in that had admitted to her, or rather bragged drunkenly, that he had made a big score and was wearing a mystical disguise. His throat had been slit and as they watched the ratlings which had accompanied him were also gathered about the corpse with worried looks on their faces and one snatched at the gold amulet around his bloodied neck and as soon as it was snatched and the ratlings coursed out of the hall the mystical disguise faded away. Bers and Dead both recognized the dead-man. He was crossbowman who was heading the ratling crossbowmen when they were ambushed at the border of the Falmark. He probably betrayed the gang when he saw how much the potions were worth that were in the chest they stole and having the loyalty of the ratlings he absconded in the night. As for sticking around in the gang’s territory that was due to his personality (cocky, Wildman, takes unnecessary risks). The duo dismissed it and sat down to eat. They returned to their room where Vorwulf was waiting and updated him on goings on and then went to sleep.

They were waked at dawn by someone yelling from outside and tossing stones at the windows. When they looked out bleary-eyed they saw a large group of Crossed-Staff thugs these armed with staffs with the Captain with the tattoo on his neck standing in front of them with the red-haired woman next to him apparently amused. They, all three, yelled back down in chorus, “What the hell do you want!”

The Captain: “Get down here and face us or we’re goin’ up there and drag you out!”

So the group quickly geared up, stomped down to the waterfront and the situation instantly became a standoff.

The Captain: “You killed my men we have witness!”

Dead-Eye: “They deserved it!”

Bers: “Grrr!”

Vor knocked an arrow and readied.

The Captain: “We want satisfaction!”

Dead-Eye: “A duel eh?”

Bers began to step forward but Dead-Eye stepped in front of her.

Dead-Eye: “Alright then who am I dueling?”

The Red-Haired Woman strode forward: “Me.”

All the non-combatants parted and formed lines behind their duelists. Dead-Eye armed himself with his longsword and bowie knife, a buckler with a large emerald strapped to his right arm. The woman drew a rapier and one of the daggers on her belt which flicked open revealing it to be a rapier-trident. With a wide smile she readied herself for the fight a sea breeze blew and the lock of bang that hid half of her face moved revealing a savage scar appearing as a ragged gash from her mouth to what was left of her ear.

The fight went for two rounds consisting of constant strike, parry, counter-strike and simultaneous attacks. The actual blows were few but powerful. Dead-Eye did suffer significant wounds killing the female duelist on his last attack in the second round. The Crossed-Staffs were visibly shaken which quickly turned to a smoldering hatred on their faces as they dragged her corpse and tossed it over the side after stripping it of all its gear. They parted in silence. The dragon-slayers waited there until they were gone and went to the White Star shop to buy some healing for Dead-Eye. They decided they were going to try to keep a low profile but on their way back from the healer they noticed a lot of travelers just getting into town from various lands some fairly far away and among them a fair amount of archers. When they asked around they found that in two days in Asternor across the river there was going to be an archery contest with a mysterious prize offered by Lord Vorahd to the winner. This definitely got both Dead-Eye’s and Vorwulf’s attention. They then pledged to keep a lower profile than they had been and made a beeline back to their room. They noticed they were being followed by the Crossed-Staff Captain a couple of lackeys in poor disguises.

After getting back inside they secured the room the best they could setting up sound traps on the door but neglecting the window, after Bers picked up a cask of ale from the beerhall that is. Then they hunkered down for the day and took turns keeping watch at night. The next morning Dead-Eye and Vorwulf left Bers in the room, she wanted to go to the beerhall but they told her no, and went out to pick up the dragon-bone quarrels and 2 quivers of arrows they had commissioned. Unbeknownst to them a ratling with a tattoo around its left eye was tailing them and watched them return to their room with the dragon-bone ammunition. They did however notice that they being followed again by some Crossed-Staffs in lousy disguises.

Dead-Eye: “That’s it.”

He and Vor marched up to the room and told Bers that they were going to the Prancing Pig.

Bers: “Yippee!”

They marched in and immediately all eyes went right to them and stuck the whole time that they were in there.

Cris (Dead-Eye’s player): “We’re showing these pukes we’re not afraid of them.”

There were six thugs at one end of the place around a hill-giant with a gold necklace gleaming on his neck and an iron staff against the wall next to him. At the table next to him and cuddled up to his shoulder was the Ferenoi (amazon) they had seen entering the place when they first found it. They didn’t see their former hirelings anywhere. They ordered ales but only pretended to sip on them and noticed that every time they did so every thug in the place leaned slightly forward in anticipation.

Cris: “We’re not stupid ya know.”

After about an hour the amazon walked over to their table, the one by the door, and pounded both her fists onto the soggy wood.

Ferenoi: “You! Hey you. What’s Yer name?”

Bers: “Me? Bers the dragon-slayer!”

Ferenoi: “Yeah? I’m Taga and see him?” She pointed to the giant. “He’s my man and you were staring.”

She went to punch Bers in the face and missed. Bers swung at her with a power punch as she jumped up from the table forcing the amazon to dodge the blow.

Taga: “You saw her! You all saw her! I want satisfaction NOW! OUTSIDE!”

The giant smiled and the thugs all snickered as Taga began to walk through the saloon-doors followed by Bers. When all were outside in front of the dive two thugs came out struggling with a solid steel double-ended spear which Taga lifted with a single hand it thudded loudly as she set one end to the ground. Dead-Eye said he was watching her back and nocked an arrow and as he did so the giant readied himself to act if Dead-Eye would make the “wrong” move. The duel began and it lasted only two rounds.

Taga was using her double-ended spear as paired weapon and Bers was using her newly acquired feat Counter Attack to full advantage. In the second round Bers was able to disarm Taga and being badly wounded she fell to her knees and surrendered.

Jenn: “Damn! I wish I wasn’t GOOD!”

The Crossed-Staff again humiliated went back into their drinking hole and the three triumphant adventurers went to the beerhall to have a celebratory round, Bers was not that badly wounded.

In the beerhall they again saw the red-bearded man in the grey cloak he seemed poised to approach their table his face displaying pure hostility. He was interrupted by a ratling, one in nothing but a loincloth and appearing scraggly and unkempt, a savage probably, ran up to him and whispered something into his ear. His fist pounded the table and he left the place with the little ratling leading, the man locked eyes with Dead-Eye. Bers and Vor noticed the ratling’s tattoo, the one around his eye.

That night during Bers’ watch sometime after midnight the window quietly opened and someone small stole into the room. Bers saw a ratling emerge from the shadows as it leapt to the window sill cradling 3 quivers in its arms. She shouted and swung at it missing as it hopped outside and Dead-Eye shoved his head outside and saw a trio of ratlings duck into an alley. One had looked back and as the light caught its eye he could see a tattoo, a tribal pattern, around its left eye. Dead-Eye didn’t even gear up before ran out into the streets shouting and trying to pick up a trail which he followed into the alley but lost it as it seemed the ratlings climbed a wall and fled over the roofs. They tried a few times more to pick up a trail but it was fruitless. Cris just kept repeating while staring at me, “Bastards, little f*@&ing bastards!”

They decided to depart for Asternor immediately.

Bers: “You don’t think that ratling has anything to do with the Crossed-Staffs do you?”

Dead-Eye: “They have to. Thieves for hire or something. The Crossed-Staffs aren’t going to call us out anymore, we have to watch our backs.”

Bers: “What if they aren’t the Crossed-Staffs?”

Dead-Eye: “They have to be.”

To Be Continued…

We rejoin our group of dragon-slayers Bers the fighter (played by Jen), Dead-Eye the ranger/dragon-slayer and his protégé Vorwulf the ranger/archer (both played by Cris) pushing their wagon with Vor pulling, a part of his training according to Cris, just four days out from the mountain pass from the Falmark. Wentum the human mage, Grik the Arborean pugilist and Rrhga the sentient wolf hired by the dragon-slayers before the pass following. They had lost their oxen in the pass.

A few days previously they had made it to the center point of the deep cut pass which sunk deep between the mountains and narrowed with high sheer cliffs on two sides. This is where a small group of Yellow Reapers (middle weight dragons with black scything talons on their rear feet like a velociraptor in place of a breath weapon or venom). The battle was quick as the dragons only wanted to snatch up a quick meal targeting their oxen. The group consisted of 3 young dragons and 1 adult. During the battle the wolf ran under the cover of the wagon, Grik tried to protect the wagon but wound taking a claw and being forced into a recovery check to not die. Bers tried to participate with her crossbow getting off two shots in four turns/attacks but not hitting anything. Wentum let loose with a lightning bolt at the adult but it had no effect as his magic simply wasn’t strong enough to cause damage to it. While Dead-Eye and Vorwulf shot at them wounding two of the younger dragons one of whom ripped an oxen free of the wagon and retreated immediately. Another tried to pull off a dive attack on Dead-Eye and rolled a natural 1 to pull out of it when Dead-Eye dodged the initial strike causing it to crash into the ground killing itself with a thundering crunch. The adult fled at the end of the round with the second oxen dead in its talons.

After emerging from the pass they had found themselves in a thick wood, the Southern Forest and came to a deforested clearing near the end of the fourth day. They were given permission to camp close to the lumber-jack’s camp and found out that they were about 1 mile south of a city called Achoran on the banks of the River Nirix, “just follow the road.” They also found out that there was another forester’s camp on the other side of the river referred to as the North Camp and where they currently were was called the South Camp as well as about 3 and half miles down the river banks from Achoran there was a ruin which the dragon-slayers were interested in but they wanted to get into the city first.

By late morning they came to the gates of Achoran long banners bearing a black silhouette of ram against a split field of yellow and green hanging from the palisades on either side of the gate. Standing at the gate were small group of guards collecting a gate toll and just past them a stalky man with a yellow waist sash, a falchion on his side and a black’X’ tattooed on his throat turning a critical eye to all newcomers sometimes stopping folks and extracting a ‘tax’ as well as asking questions. He had no other arms displayed as the guards had the arms of the city painted on their shields and bore the black rams head on the chests of their leather cuirasses. He was surrounded by a handful of other thuggish looking guys and a few rogue types were hovering around them as well all wearing a yellow sash. Of course they stopped our heroes.

Yellow-Sash: “You there! Yeah, you! There’s a Wagon Wheel Tax before you can enter.”

Dead-Eye: “How much?” He grumbled under his breath.

Yellow-Sash (looking them up and down): “Hmmm. Four gold pieces, 1 for each wheel.” He grinned.

Bers: “Hehe, that’s nothing!”

Dead-Eye: “We’re not paying him, we’re not paying YOU!”

The gang of thugs and rogues started creep around the wagon putting the entire group on guard.

Dead-Eye: “You’re not guards so get out of our way!” His hand went to his sword and Vor immediately nocked an arrow.

Yellow-Sash: “Alright, now you’re gonna have to pay the Goods Protection Insurance fee. Ya’ know just in case sumthin happens to your goods.”

The gate guards began to eyeball the situation and the toothy grin on the lead thug fell away for the first time.

Yellow-Sash: “Suit yerself. What’s yer names again?”

Dead-Eye: “F@*& you!”

They entered and paid the three they hired the other half of the promised gold before the pass and they took their leave saying that they’d be in the Prancing Pig tavern and probably “abouts elsewheres” if there was more work. The three dragon-slayers decided to find some accommodations in an inn, a two-story plaster-walled structure found at the docks called the Hammered Helm its shingle displaying a picture of a hammer and a helmet. After paying for the best room in the place Bers and Dead-Eye left Vor to set-up the room and secure their booty as they went out to the main street carrying dragon hides and some bones as well as full purses. They saw a shop with a small flag flying the white star on a blue-field, the White Star healer’s guild, and found the beerhall which flew a white wooly rams head with golden horns on a field of green, the heraldry of Fertum Vorahd a Fertum a few miles to the north and the other side of the river. They went to a fletcher to commission some dragon-bone crossbow bolts (for Bers) and 2 quivers of dragon-bone arrows. Then took the green hides to the armorer and ordered 2 full suits of dragon-hide armor as well as 2 potion bandoliers. They paid half of the money asked at once and were told that it would take around 10 days to be finished. They then got directions to the local alchemist in order to stock up on some potions as well as to sell off any they didn’t see a need for from their hoard. While there they asked after the guy at the gate and the others they had seen with the yellow sashes. They were told that those were the members of the Crossed Staff Gang the local mafia and part time highway men. They were being led by 3 hill-giant brothers. The guy at the gate was a high-ranking captain in the gang. They completed their business and thanked the alchemist. They talked ot various guards and fellow travelers and amongst the information they collected they found that there was another large town further west on the north bank of the river and could take a ferry there for 1 copper piece (cp) per person and 1 cp per bit of luggage. They also found that the Merchant’s Guild of Achoran was the big dog in the Hirok-Nor region and was at odds with the Merchant’s Guild of Asternor often involving plots and pacts with criminals and river-pirates. They were also told of the river dragon which had been terrorizing the ferries and river boats but decided they couldn’t do much against an aquatic dragon, at least not right then. They were also told the farmers in the Varidna Plain (located in the far northwestern corner of Hirok-Nor) were having some dragon problems. After checking back in with Vorwulf for a few minutes they departed once again for some well-deserved “rest” and headed along the docks towards where they were told a tavern was supposed to be.

They found the tavern, the Prancing Pig in the apparently poor quarter of Achoran and seeing a couple of shiesty looking fellows hanging outside with yellow rags on their heads they decided against drinking there. They did however catch a glimpse of a Hill-Giant clad entirely in a yellow robe with a wrapped oblong object strapped to his back entering the substantially large saloon-doored entrance accompanied by a muscular and very beautiful 8 ft tall woman, a ferenoi by all appearances (an amazon from the Feren culture). So they decided the beerhall would be fine.

The beerhall was enormous as compared to those that they were used to. It was filled with both long plank tables and small round ones most were crowded with travelers and locals alike with a bar at one far end the entrance being at the opposite end allowing patrons to enter directly from the street. They picked a small round table near the saloon-doors and ordered a couple of large pitchers of the “best stuff in the house” along with a platter of food. Dead-Eye immediately noticed that a cloaked figure that had been following them after they left the alchemist’s shop walked in a few minutes after them and sat at a table near them. He didn’t recognize the man. He was young and strong looking with blood-red hair and beard and grey eyes wrapped in a grey cloak and wearing a powder grey chain shirt underneath. When he walked up to the bar later on he found a loud but laughing man surrounded by a few ratlings celebrating something or other. Bers eventually joined the guy and found he had probably ripped someone off and was wearing a “mystical disguise”. During the course of the evening they observed a large group of Ivorans all wearing identical red silk robes bearing a black symbol of flaming spiral on their backs and chest. As the day melted into dusk they left the tavern for their room at the Hammered Helmet suitably hammered Dead-Eye caught eye of a kid trying to nick a bauble in the marketplace across from the beerhall. The merchant snatched at him and he tried to run past the heroic duo bumping into Dead-Eye a dagger dropping from the rags he wore. Dead-Eye and Bers immediately recognized the marking on its blade; the mark of the Blackwings guild. Dead-Eye snatched the kid and after forcing him to give back the bauble asked where he had gotten that dagger.

The Kid: “From a corpse when those 5 strangers got their throats slit. Hey!”

Dead-Eye: “Where at!”

The Kid: “The Rat Quarter [poor quarter where the Prancing Pig was located].”

They released him and he disappeared into an alleyway. When they checked out the story they found a two-story residence which had been reduced to a smoldering pile of ash. They figured this is from where the messenger (see Pt. 20) had been dispatched, probably. They stumbled back to their room all the while aware they were being followed by the grey-cloaked red-bearded guy.

To Be Continued…

After slaying the green dragons which dominated the Cleft-Rills region our heroes took their gains and bought some more oxen to haul their wagon which they packed for the trip to the west coast and the city of Chago. The trip would probably take months if not most of the current year maybe arriving in Chago the following summer if they wintered somewhere between. They decided to take the Trade Road traveling north through the North Gate Pass (another mountain pass) into the Hill-Lands to follow the Coastal Mountain Range West then through a southerly valley into the Falmark from the north. The Falmark being a small 30 mile (approx. 510 square-mile) stretch between the Cleft-Rills region and Hirok-Nor a more civilized western region. They figured it approximately a 250 mi trip and should take just over a week of constant travel if all went well. Dead-Eye had also picked up a protégé named Vorwulf a ranger/archer whom was more proficient with his bow than Dead-Eye but less so with a sword.

On their travels westward they ran headlong into a rainstorm which delayed them by about a day, after that they noticed a young dragon tailing them which appeared to be a larger than normal grayling with red-spotting whom they later shot at (Bers missing horribly with her crossbow) wounding it badly causing it to break off and a pack of wolves which had prowled into camp nearly dragging Vorwulf off and definitely would have if Dead-Eye hadn’t shot the wolf that had him locked in its jaws. Just before entering what should be the Falmark they were ambushed by a large gang of highwaymen led by three identical Hill-Giant brothers wielding iron staffs with a Half-Naga/Human lieutenant with a fighting spear and a chainmail clad human captain with a steel cap along with 10 crossbow wielding ratlings led by the human captain taking cover behind a hedge. All had yellow waist sashes and faces covered by yellow handkerchiefs. The battle lasted 2 rounds with Bers running back to drink a potion after getting clobbered by one of the giant’s iron staff and Dead-Eye dodging a similar blow with Vorwulf taking cover in the back of the wagon covering them with his bow. The third giant smashed the new recruit and held him on the ground with his staff. The Naga dropped unconscious from his wounds at the end of the first round and died convulsively in the dust of the road. Eventually two of the giants took a great deal of damage as had all three of our adventurers with the least wounded giant snatching up the small banded chest which was full of what Cris deemed “worthless” potions taken from the green dragons lair and the highway men broke off and fled.

Finally, at the end of the seven-day stretch starting from Fertum Dreyhawk they arrived at a fork in the road both ends of which went west nestled between trees of the Low Wood. They observed a marker stone at the fork which was fairly large though nowhere near the size and height of a menhir. It was badly pitted and worn by time, lichen spotted and patched with moss. It was covered what appeared to be graffiti some of which may have been useful information but Bers and Dead-Eye were still illiterate at this point, they had Vorwulf read it finding the terms Falmark with a west directed arrow as well as the name Fort Ebernel scratched deeply beneath that. The stone also revealed that the northern lying road was the Old Road and warned of a swamp. The sun had begun to dip behind the trees and the mountain immediately east was creating an early dusk. Dead-Eye sent Vorwulf to find a campsite. He found a shallow hollow off of the road.

During the night on Dead-Eye’s watch a thick rolled in around midnight so thick that he could barely see beyond 10 feet. Put on guard by the lack of visibility he sighted a large shape bearing down on him. After avoiding the swing of a polished black wood club he caught sight of the 8-foot tall powerfully built nude male torso lacking a head and neck before him. He yelled waking the other two and all could feel the unnatural cold that the creature emanated. The wagon oxen seemed unable to move and lowed miserably. The fight went quickly with Dead-Eye getting in a killing shot with his bow after backing away Bers stepping in forgetting that she was unarmored. The creature immediately dissipated as did the thick fog that had covered the camp. Dead-Eye warned her not to touch the club which sat gleaming where it had fallen. During the last watch Bers drowsed and suddenly a hideously wizened creature stood before definitely female and probably a faun as she had horns. The thing cackled and the fire flared temporarily blinding her and when her vision returned the hag had vanished. Come the dawn she shared her story with the others and she went to check on the club when Dead-Eye wasn’t looking. All she found was a rotten piece of moist wood.

An hour or so after breaking the tree line of the forest for a second time, the road comes out of the tree line then goes back in, they came to a motte and bailey structure flying the flag of a rampant rooster against a field of purple lying in the crotch of another fork in the road. The guards said that the southern turn was the South Bend and to avoid the swamp to the north beyond the ridge and Hag’s Walk. It was a death trap. The guards directed them west continuing on the Trade Road to Fertum Ebernel which flew the same flag as the fort with the town of Falton directly south of that which flew the green serpent biting its tail against a field of brown. By late afternoon they reached Fertum Ebernel and entered a crowded bustling main drag. They walked past a band of actors entertaining a crowd.

Dead-Eye: “F*@k them let’s get to the tavern.”

Bers: “Aww. I’m watching.”

The entertainers were a family of jesters telling to what amounted to fart-jokes against a painted backdrop. His toddler-age son hobbled from behind the gaudy canvas and he held him up for the crowd to see whom clapped as it seemed the end of his routine.

Bers: “Aww, how precious!”

A cloaked figure sat by the covered wagon by the backdrop which Dead-Eye had identified as a hedge-wizard in disguise attracting his pupil’s attention as he was “eye-balling” them and the wagon as was the rather large wolf at his feet which had a strange air of intelligence about its yellow eyes. As they continued to mix in with the bustle they talked to random passerby to try to get their bearings and a little information about the area. They stopped a grizzled farmer smoking a little oak pipe. They asked him about the area.

Farmer: “Well”, he champed at the stem of his pipe, “y’ave already passed the swamp did ya? Now yer gonna wanna stay out of the Fool’s March to the north.”

Dead-Eye: “Fool’s March? What’s that?”

Farmer: “People see the Will-O-Wisp at night flirting all over there, spirits ya’ know of the dead warriors that sunk there long time ago. A spring suzerain it is. Looks dry as a bone but underneath’s a quagmire sure as death. Sometimes in summer, gett’n close ta that time, we that is me a few other kin folk, go diggin’ but not too deep mind ya. Ta find a sword or helm to sell, fetch us a few fliks.”

Dead-Eye asked after the best way west, they were headed for the coast.

Farmer: “Well”, he took a few tokes from his pipe, “the best way west as far as I’d know, and I don’t know much ‘bout that, would be to follow the Trade Road as it turnt ta’ tha’ north skirtin’ the Witch’s Wood. You mind me and stay outta there. That hag she’s a mean ‘un. But as I syas, stay on ta’ road and you’ll come to the Mountain Pass.”

Dead-Eye: “Thanks.”

They continued on towards the tavern only to stop as a group of men carrying their shirtless, bloodied and limp companion by apparently looking for a healer. Looking to where the men came the adventurers saw a small fenced in ring where stood an Arborean, a tree-man with bark-skin and wooden body, stood holding a silver helmet.

The Arborean: “Is there no one to take up my challenge only 1 silver piece to challenge my skill, if you win then the whole purse is yours! You may even wear this helm as I will only use my fists!”

A Spectator: “Yeah! Well, what ‘bout yer woody hide there fella!”

The Arborean: “I have these,” he held up pair of steel gauntlets from his belt, “to even the odds!”

Bers: “Ooh! I’m gonna fight ‘em!”

Dead-Eye: “Wait! Let’s see what he can do first. Besides we’re gonna want to do some hiring.”

Bers: “Oh yeah.”

It didn’t take long for a challenger to come forward, a brawny half-faun who happily donned the helmet and pitted his apparent wrestling skills against the Arborean’s wooden fists which pummeled his helmeted head into the dirt in two turns. The crowd cheered and a money changed hands. They approached the Arborean and got his name, Grik-Watervane of Granfor and he and his companions were for hire so our heroes arranged a meeting for later that evening in the tavern. Vorwulf was sent by Dead-Eye to secure a space in the Merchant’s Quarter as Bers and he were going to the tavern.

As they entered the tavern a drunken mountain of a man with blacksmith’s tools jangling from his belt stumbled into them. Drunk and distraut he blubbered, “My wife, my wife!”

Bers: “What about your wife?”

Drunk Blacksmith: “She’s-she’s..”, he broke down and began blubbering incoherently.

A scrawny dark haired fellow appeared from behind the blacksmith. Dead-Eye saw the skinny man’s eye’s which were yellow with slit-pupils hinting at a gypsy heritage (Southern Nomads).

Scrawny Man: “I’m sorry I’ve just come to fetch my friend back to his drink. I’m Wetl and my friend is Dravor. His wife has run-off with an Ivoran actor last year and just before winter she hopped the last caravan out with him.”

The Blacksmith (ruthlessly): “I’ll kill ‘em too if I ever get my hands around his neck!”, holding up two clenched fists.

Wetl bowed with a slimy grin before he led his friend back to their table. The tavern was small and narrow crowded with long wood-plank tables. Bers noticed the jester from before sitting at a table by himself eating a meal. The three sat at a table where they could keep their backs to the wall at Dead-Eye’s behest of course. The group noticed while they waited for their food and ale that Wetl, the scrawny guy, was leaning over the table whispering into the blacksmith’s ear and didn’t seem to be drinking at all. After a little while Wetl moved over to the jester’s table and seemed to engage the jester was slighter than himself in a quiet conversation. It wasn’t long before Dravor the blacksmith stomped over the same table and thudded next to the jester. This is when our heroes began paying attention to what was going down.

Wetl: “You’re an actor!”

Dravor: “You’re an ACTOR!?”

Jester: “Well, not really.” in a noticeable Ivoran accent shrinking in his seat.

Wetl: “Then we should kill you, it’s only logical.”

Jester: “You’re funny”, an exaggerated smile broke his face as he began to sweat.

Wetl: “You’ve gone pale. Something on your conscience?” He pulled a knife.

The jest looked around helplessly as the rest of the patrons gazed back scowling at him.

Jester: “You want to hurt me? Why? Have I done something to anyone? I’ll just leave and never come back!”

Bers (to Dead-Eye): “Oh no! Are we going to have to fight again?!”

Dead-Eye: “Shh. Do what I do.” He unfastened his sword pulled it slightly from the scabbard all the while keeping his grip on it. Bers picked up her ax as stealthily as she could and set it across her knees.

Wetl (pointing the knife at the jester): “Go on! Get up there so everyone can see you!”

The jester climbed quaking and unsure on top of the table and Wetl and Dravor forced him to perform a jig while they threw his half-eaten meal in his face and washed it off with his mug of ale.

The tension drained out of the air and Cris and Jen’s (Dead-Eye’s/Vorwulf’s and Bers’ players respectively) shoulders dropped with a sigh.

Dead-Eye and Bers relaxed as their meal was delivered to the table on several large wooden platters and in wood pitchers. Come evening the group fairly drunk but still stuffing their faces were met by the Arborean pugilist Grik and his two companions. The first was the cloaked figure which had been sitting on the jester’s caravan, a human mage named Wentum and the wolf they had seen at his feet named Rgrha who was wearing a gold necklace. The wolf turned out to be a sentient animal with the ability to communicate telepathically much like an Arborean. They had come here from the south and were both, Wentum was from the southwest from the foot of the Gohmar (mountains), from a small region in Granfor. After a little small-talk they struck a deal to employ the three as body guards and magical consultation. Night fell outside and the tavern began to lock up so our intrepid bunch left to the Merchant’s Quarter. Suddenly a crack like thunder ripped through the street and the image of a horrible hag appeared in the middle of the Fertum wreathed in blue flames and large enough for all to see. “I will send my vengeance slithering to punish you all for trespassing on my land!”

Bers: “Crap! It’s the one I saw in our camp last night!”

Dead-Eye: “That’s it let’s get out of here … in the morning.”

 

To Be Continued…