Pen & Paper Games - Blogs

Linking my blogs

russdm — Thu, 16 May 2013 22:20:42 GMT

Here is a link to my other blog: http://russgamer.wordpress.com/
I am going to be using my blog there for stuff. I may repost the blogs here, but not likely.

Looking for group

russdm — Thu, 16 May 2013 21:06:06 GMT

I am player just looking for a group thats close for playing roleplaying games. I am trying to see if i can find something what will work with my schedule. I have no real preference for game systems. I am free on saturdays mainly.

How To Make Paper Miniatures for Tabletop Gaming

jpatterson — Sat, 04 May 2013 00:22:46 GMT

I have written a new article on how to make paper miniatures yourself, for free (well, not counting printing and maybe glue or tape). It covers choosing images, resolution, sizes, resizing, dimensions, scales, etc. Check it out at my site, Abstruse Decapod!

Abstruse Decapod: Creating Paper Miniatures

Tabloid! - Faux Pas Part 1

Max_Writer — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 20:05:30 GMT

Thursday, April 4, 2013

(After playing the Tabloid! scenario �Faux Pas� Friday (March 22) with Josh Smith, Buddy Rosso, Jeff Laforest, Adam Frager, and Steven Walkup from 7:30 p.m. to 11 p.m. at CaesarCon 2013)

�Editorial meeting! In my office, everybody � now!� bellowed the editor as he strode through the reporter�s bullpen. He didn�t wait to see if anyone followed, but barged right through and planted himself at his desk. He was sweaty and his tie was pulled down, but he wore a nice suit. He always put people in mind of J. Jonah Jameson from the Spider Man comic books, at least for his temper and his tendency to hit people.

The editorial offices of the World Tattler-Tribune were in one of the squat skyscrapers in the greatest city in the world: Akron, Ohio.

Howard Combine was an ace tabloid reporter. He had an athletic build, blue eyes, a soul patch, and a nice tan. He was a bush pilot and was into voodoo. He was also a smug liberal and could talk down a conservative Republican like no one else. From Quahog, R.I., and graduated from James Woods High. His fellow reporters didn�t know much about him.

Mark Farcas was a good-looking though thin and pasty man with thinning brown hair. He was nervous-looking and always watchful. He covered Bigfoot and dead rock stars (like Elvis Presley). He had graduated from Tudbull High School in Scranton, Penn. After that he went to the beach where things went well. In an effort to better himself, he enrolled in Columbia School of Journalism but unfortunately that story on poodle-barbecuing cultists was good, but there was no witness protection program for reporters. He got a job at an amusement park but was framed for beating up a kid so he turned to tabloid reporting. He was also being hunted by the.

Horace Shrugg had long, greasy hair and squinty eyes. He was shifty-looking with a gold tooth prominent in the front of his mouth. He usually wore jeans and a t-shirt. He was a photographer who�d graduated from Eunice Harper Higgins High School in San Antonio, Texas. He went to college at the Conservatory of Secrets Humanity Was Not meant to Know. He had a hacker fix his grades but then headed to the CIA University of the Air and there was an �incident.� He decided that exposing the truth was the best idea ever. That�s when he started tabloid reporting.

George Schmidlap was a tall, thin Dwight-Shrute-ish looking man who wore his hair parted down the center. He wore thick-framed bifocals and had a thick, black beard and mustache. He didn�t have a penny to his name and lived in basement somewhere. He was shifty and always watchful. He told his fellow reporters that he was wanted by the law for a crime he didn�t commit. He�d had trouble getting into college so found a job at Captain Jeffery Spaulding Junior High, but quit it when he got blamed for allegedly flunking the star of the rugby team. Things went bad at his next job as a nuclear weapons technician and he travelled the country with 5,000 neo-hippies for a while before getting back into the Academy of Data-Entry, where he�d failed to get enrolled before. He blew his academic probation there, however, and decided to be a tabloid reporter.

Ralph Fisher had dark hair and was handsome but his face was scarred and slightly burned. He wore a fine suit that fit his tall frame perfectly. He also wore thick glasses which his fellow reporters knew were fake (ala Clark Kent). After graduating from Benedict Arnold Senior High School in Muncie, Ind., he went to college for a while. He was arrested for, as he put it, �unknown reasons.� Then he went to the beach and won the lottery, finally going back to school � which didn�t work out either. It wasn�t his fault that time, it was an accident, honest. He became a highway surveyor and then had to marry a woman he�d gotten pregnant. He was transferred to Russia and the last words he remembered hearing at that place of employment had been �Oh my god! Don�t mix those�!� before the explosion. The company paid him quite a bit of dough to keep quiet but his good looks were ruined. He tried to go back to college but late-night research at Lawson�s Absolute Center of the Universe School led him to secrets better left undiscovered. He knew people were hunting him, however, because he knew too much. So, he became a tabloid reporter.

All of them started to get up and head for the office except for Fisher,

�Where are you guys going?� he asked. �He can wait. He pays us.�

�You remember the last time we made him wait more than five minutes?� Schmidlap asked the man. �Wasn�t pretty.�

As they all squeezed into the cramped office � there was no place to stand, let alone sit � they saw a short, skinny, bald, bespectacled man with a bow tie standing alongside the editor�s desk. He acted nervous to be the center of attention, though his pinched little face still radiated that �I�m-better-than-all-you-weasels� sense of smug superiority that only comes with excessive pride in one�s undergrad education.

�So, you a CPA?� Combine asked the little man.

The man simply shrugged and rolled his eyes.

�Two things, staff,� the editor said. �First, I want you to meet Lester Windooth III. He�s our new head of Research and Fact Checking. Unlike you bums, Lester�s done something with his life. He was a History professor��

�With an English composition minor, sir,� the newcomer had the temerity to add.

�Like I was saying, he�s educated, and he�s here to oversee our fact checking. There�s been complains that we ain�t always getting our history right, and I want that to stop!�

With that, he slammed his fist on the desk and glared at each of them, even though they hadn�t done anything wrong lately.

�Second thing � the public wants real news. They�re getting tired of these Hollywood Heights, who�s-sleeping-with-who stories you�ve been filing! Sales are slipping. I want ground-breaking material here, stuff that�s gonna make people sit up and take notice.�

He picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk and thrust them into the reporters� hands.

�This is a good one I�m thinking of running. Lester�s already checked it. What do you think?�

The article read:

What�s Buried in Grant�s Tomb?
By SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT LESTER WINDOOTH III

In a startling announcement exclusive to the World Tattler-Tribune, Canadian historian
Anton Sacka-Weejie has proven that US Vice-President and Civil War general Ulysses
S. Grant was really a space alien!

�The evidence is all there,� explains Anton, professor at the Great Slave Lake Academy
of Arts and Sciences. �There are links to this �war hero� and all sorts of strange events
like the Wendigo up there and the Men in Black of the American Southwest. Your
government�s got documents proving it all, but they�ve locked those all away. Think about
it. Why do you suppose they started asking �Who�s buried in Grant�s Tomb?��

Ulysses S. Grant was a top general for the Confederate army during the Civil War (or
War Between the States for our southern readers). After the war, General Grant went on
to become Vice-President of the United States.

With information from Civil War Secret Service files, Professor Sacka-Weejie proves
Grant was not of this world. �No human could ever drink the quantities of whisky he did
and live. Why, President Lincoln had to keep him supplied with barrels of the stuff. What
did he do with it? Well, no one ever saw him bathing.�

Professor Sacka-Weejie explains why it has taken so long for the news to be revealed by
pointing to the powers of alien beings. �They don�t want us to know just how Grant won the
war. In fact, there are still secrets they are trying to suppress.�

They read over the story, Fisher muttering in Russian. The editor sat down behind the desk, took out a cigar and started smoking at his desk. It was 1998 and smoking wasn�t being persecuted in the U.S. yet. It�s time was coming though. The air in the room started turning blue with the stench.

�You know, I just heard that the stories about Grant were false, because he was such a small-statured man that one drink would get him hammered,� Schmidlap said without even reading the story. �He wasn�t really an alcoholic. That�s just what I heard.�

�What do you think of the ...?� the editor bellowed. �Just ... just don�t talk anymore!�

He turned to Fisher.

�What do you think of that story?� he said.

Fisher replied in Russian at first.

�Yeah, English there, Smirnoff!�

�I really think that, first of all, your fact-checker�s wrong because wasn�t he president, not vice-president?� Fisher said. �He was the president, he wasn�t the vice-president.�

�He was in the Union,� Farcas said.

�He was Union?� the editor asked.

�Yeah!�

�This is the new fact-checker and he wrote ... who wrote this?� Fisher asked.

The editor turned on Windooth and glared at him. The little man squirmed for a long time.

�Well, I may have been in error, but it was in keeping with modern educational standards,� Windooth said.

With that, the editor turned and snarled at his reporters.

�Well, we can�t go printing this story �til we�ve checked the facts,� he said.

�Well, he�s the fact-checker, right?� Fisher asked.

�Well you are now because he obviously sucks!�

�You should fire him,� Combine said.

�You don�t tell me who to fire,� the editor said. �I tell you that you�re fired.�

�Oh, okay. Well, I am replaceable.�

�Exactly. Anyway, I want you to go find this Professor Sacka-whatja and check out just what the real story is. Get your tickets from accounting and have a nice trip. Enjoy Canada. Get out!�

�Dasvidaniya, boss,� Fisher said.

They all left the office, followed by Windooth. The door slammed behind him.

�So, your little scene�s made you look good at my expense,� Windooth hissed. �Well, I�ll make you sorry you ever heard of Dr. Windooth.�

With that, he slunk away.

�Doctor?� Fisher said. �What are you, a pharmacologist or something?�

The reporters returned to the bullpen and looked over the story more carefully. Then they headed down to accounting to get their plane tickets.

�Where to?� the rat-like little accountant at the desk asked. �Where are they supposed to be for?�

�Canada,� Schmidlap said.

�You know how big Canada is?�

�I thought he told you?�

�Canada�s really big,� Shrugg said.

�Yeah,� the rat replied. �Find out where you�re supposed to go and then I�ll give you the money for the tickets.�

Fisher looked over the newspaper article again.

�Great Slave Lake Academy of Arts and Sciences,� he read.

�Yeah, where�s that?� the accountant asked.

�Uh ...� Schmidlap said.

�We have to find out where that is,� Fisher said. �Somewhere in Canada.�

They headed off to try to find out where the place was. The office had a 1983 Encyclopedia Britannica set that was missing the U and X books. Fisher started looking through the atlas at the office. He found Great Slave Lake in Canada near the city of Yellowknife. Combine and Shrugg headed down to the public library while Farcas headed off to Akron University to see what he could learn.

The public library had a surprisingly large �Canada� section consisting of a bookshelf full of books about the country. Most of them were written in crayon, but they were fairly comprehensive. They could not find anything by Professor Sacka-Weejie. However, Shrugg located an entry for the Great Slave Lake Academy of Arts and Sciences in Grommp�s Guide to Government Grants. It stated that the Professor A. Sacka-Weejie received a grant of $10,000 from the US Department of Defense, Psi-Lab division. No phone number for the academy was given and the address listed was Post Office Box 647A-/* in Yellowknife.

Farcas talked to some co-eds at Akron University. They seemed quite enamored of the handsome man until they noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring. He�d been married ever since the Christmas Party when he had been interning at a newspaper a year before. He�d woken up in Mexico with a hangover and a spouse.

They all met back in the bullpen after lunch. They agreed that Yellowknife was the place to go. They headed down to accounting where they were received plane tickets.

�Coach?� Fisher asked as he looked at the ticket. �You expect me to fly coach?�

�At least you�re not flying with the baggage,� the accountant said.

�Can�t I get an upgrade?�

�Fisher, we go through this any time you go anywhere! You always want an upgrade.�

�Well, you dress for success and I�m not dressed for coach.�

�Then I guess you�ll have to dress down.�

�I agree with him,� Combine said. �We should be flying first class.�

�It�s nice that you two are in agreement,� the accountant said. �It�s very nice. Not that there�s anything wrong with that.�

�At least one of us wants to attempt to get into the mile-high club.�

�Well, work together then. Ew. But that�s fine.�

�Don�t ask, don�t tell,� Farcas said.

Fisher tried to fast talk the man into giving him an upgrade, as he did every time he had to fly somewhere.

�Get outta here!� the accountant yelled.

�But�� Fisher said.

�Don�t any of the rest of you try it either!�

�But��

The accountant reached up to the window over his desk, slamming it down. For some reason, the accounting department had a big window that could be closed at the whim of the accountant on duty. No one was sure why, except that it allowed accounting more easily not to deal with people asking them for money. There was a door right next to the window, so it wasn�t as effective as it could have been.

�Do you want the receipts?� Fisher mumbled.

�Of course I want the receipts!� he heard the accountant shout from behind the glazed window.

They flew out of Akron in an hour, going to Calgary, where they had a five-minute layover. Unfortunately, their flight was taking off in four, so they had to run the length of the airport. They made it to the plane and it took them to Yellowknife. It was snowing when they arrived that evening. Combine asked Fisher if it was as bad as Russia. Fisher sent Farcas to get a car.

�I don�t think we�re going to get a limo in Yellowknife,� Combine said.

�Hey, you need a taxi, eh?� a voice called from a nearby yellow cab.

�Yeah, we need a taxi,� Fisher said to the man who was leaning out the cab window.

�Well, my taxi�s right here, and I�ve got doughnuts,� the cab driver called.

�Doughnuts?� Fisher said.

�Doughnuts. Free doughnut for every ride.�

�I don�t want a doughnut.�

�You don�t have to eat it. I�ll eat it for you if you want.�

The driver was pretty fat and filled the front seat. They weren�t sure how long it might have been since he got out of his cab. The car had a funky smell but the back seat looked clean.

�Take us to the finest hotel,� Fisher said as they got into the car.

�Oh, you�re going to have a hard time finding a hotel, eh,� the driver said. �They�re all booked up.�

�Something big going on in town?� Farcas asked.

�Yeah. There�s a political convention of the Indigenous People�s Party, eh.�

�Don�t they live in igloos?�

�Well, yeah, but they�re a political movement and they�re having some kind of convention, so it�s all booked up.�

�The what?� Schmidlap asked.

�We�ll try a hotel,� the cab driver said. �Maybe you�ll get lucky. C�mon, let�s go.�

They tried five hotels, but they found all of them were booked up. They�d never seen so many indigenous Canadian people, all of them wearing fine suits.

The driver was giving them each another doughnut every time they went to anther hotel.

�I�ve got a jelly,� he said at one point. �You want a jelly?�

At one of the last hotels, Shrugg tried to bribe the concierge to get rooms with a whole American dollar. He was gently rebuffed by the unimpressed concierge.

�However, seeing as you are Americans, our lower brothers, so it is, eh,� the concierge said.

�Lower brothers?� Shrugg muttered.

�Let me make a few phone calls and see if I can help you out.�

�Eh?�

�Here, have a brewski while you wait.�

The concierge handed cans of beer to all of them. Then he made a few phone calls. Their cab was waiting but the driver said he was not going to leave the meter running. Everyone in Canada seemed so nice and polite.

The concierge returned and told them that the only place available was the Snowblind Chalet out on the edge of the city.

�So, tell �em to take you there,� the concierge said. �I think they�ve still got some room left. But you�d better hurry, cause I hear those indigenous people are just snatching them up.�

The cab was still waiting out front and the cabbie had fresh boxes of doughnuts in the front seat. They could also smell bacon and guessed he�d gone for a sandwich while waiting for them to get back.

With all this sugar, I could probably run there, Shrugg thought.

The cabbie was just popping open a beer when they returned.

�Oh, hey. Oh, hey,� he said. �Oh, you�re back, eh? Where we going?�

�Snowblind Chalet,� Schmidlap said.

They got into the cab and he drove them to the edge of town.

�You know anything about the college here?� Fisher asked en route.

�I didn�t know there was a college here, eh,� the cabbie replied.

Shrugg was getting bored. He told Schmidlap to look at him and then fired the flashbulb off in the other man�s face.

�You know anything about the Great Slave Lake Academy of Arts and Science?� Fisher asked.

�I know Great Slave Lake is out this way,� the cabbie admitted. �I never heard of no academy of science or art.�

�Do you know of anybody that might?� Combine asked.

�No, not really,� the cabbie said.

�You ever heard of Anton Sacka-Weejie?� Schmidlap asked.

�No,� the cabbie said. �Nope. But I�m not very well educated, eh.�

�I thought you had a master�s degree,� Fisher joshed.

�No, I have a Ph.D.,� the cabbie said. �But, you know, it�s in brewing.�

�A post-hole digger?� Schmidlap said.

�What?�

�P.H.D.�

The cabbie didn�t get it.

Farcas asked about the Canucks, which got the cabbie talking about hockey, which he did until they pulled up outside of the Snowblind Chalet.

The chalet was right on the edge of the city. In fact, the forest started right across the street next to the dog teams� kennels. There were two rooms remaining but the owner said he could roll a bed in for one of them. The cost was $40 Canadian per night. The front of the hotel was part office, part living room with a television blaring with a hockey game behind the front desk. Only a single lamp was lit, leaving many suggestive shadows. The owner was a round, sweaty fellow with a smooth, shiny face.

�You�re Americans, right?� the owner said. �Oh, it�s so great to see Americans. Now I got to carry stuff, God damn. So glad you�re here, eh!�

He seemed to go back and forth between fawning affection and grumpiness. He reminded Combine of Tinfoil Ray, a man he�d met during his time living on the beach. Shrugg guessed to himself that the man had been subjected to too many mind wipes.

The two adjoining rooms were on the second floor and had a lovely view of the dog kennel. Fisher checked his own room for microphones and cameras but found nothing out of the ordinary. When he started screaming in Russian, someone knocked on his door and asked him to keep it down.

Combine walked down to talk to the owner, who was sitting in the back and watching hockey. Combine banged the door and called for service. The owner came out in a rush.

�What do you want, eh!?!� he bellowed. Then lowered his voice. �Can I help you?�

�I�m looking for the university,� Combine said.

�Yellowknife doesn�t have a university. It�s a crappy town.�

�Cabbie that dropped us off said there was supposed to be one on that side of town.�

�What was his name, eh?�

�I don�t remember. I don�t remember him giving us his name.�

�Was it Bob?�

�I don�t think so.�

�He�s a liar! How about � was it Dan?�

�Didn�t see the��

�Dan�s crazy! He�s crazy! He doesn�t know what he�s talking about. How about Phil? Was it Phil?�

�No.�

�Definitely wasn�t Phil?�

�Definitely wasn�t Phil. He gave us a bunch of doughnuts though.�

�Did you pay him, eh?�

�Yeah, one of us did. So, pretty much everybody you�re rattling off here is kind of crazy?�

�No. There�s Sally. She�s stupid. I like her so much. But damn, she�s so stupid. What were we talking about?�

�The university.�

�No, I don�t know about no university.�

�Any college?�

�No.�

�It�s supposed to be on Slave Lake.�

�Well, there might be something up in Snowdrift, eh.�

�Snowdrift? How far is Snowdrift?�

�About 30 miles. Down the road.�

Combine returned to the others and told them what he�d learned. Shrugg mentioned that there was a post office box in Yellowknife for the college. Schmidlap was too busy to talk: he was stealing everything that wasn�t nailed down out of his hotel room. Fisher suggested he wait until they left the next day.

�Oh yeah,� Schmidlap said.

Fisher and Schmidlap shared a room while Combine, Farcas, and Shrugg shared the other, Shrugg getting stuck with the roll-out bed.

* * *

They were all awakened in the early morning hours by the howling the sled dogs across the street. It went on for a minute or so before the howling changed to that kind of screaming the dogs did when James Arness, the alien, tore them up in The Thing. Fisher leapt out of bed and threw the curtains open. He heard movement in the room next door.

* * *

�Don�t turn on the lights!� Farcas said as he crossed the room to the window and threw back the curtains.

�What do you see?� Combine said from the warmth of his covers.

Shrugg stumbled out of bed, buck naked, and ran to the window.

Across the road, they could see a tall, manlike figure, flailing about. There might have been dogs around it if that was what those dark specks were.

* * *

�I got my headline!� Fisher said loudly. ��Canadian Dogs Attack Bigfoot!� Let�s hope Horace gets pictures!�

�Wait, does he have his camera!?!� Schmidlap said.

He ran to the adjoining door and burst through it into the other room.

�It�s bigfoot!� Fisher yelled. �It�s bigfoot out there! The dogs are attacking bigfoot!�

Shrugg flung open the sash and a cold wind blew into the room. Schmidlap saw that his camera was sitting on the nearby desk.

�Take the camera!� Schmidlap yelled, grabbing up the device.

He shoved the camera into Shrugg�s hands and then gave him a shove out the window.

�Grab him!� Combine yelled.

There was a flash from the camera and Farcas tried to grab the man until he realized that he was naked. Then he let him fall out of the second story window.

�Don�t break the camera!� Schmidlap called as he fell backwards, blinded by the flashbulb again.

Combine, still lying in the bed, saw Schmidlap�s ass, exposed through the open back door of the ratty long johns that he wore, coming at his face. He quickly rolled over and slid out of the bed as Schmidlap landed. Combine was very cold in just his boxers in the increasingly colder room but he ran to the window to see what was going on outside.

* * *

Next door, Fisher leaned against the window and saw the naked Shrugg disappear into a snow drift under the window. Only the camera didn�t disappear into the drift as Shrugg held it over his head.

�It�s cold!� a muffled voice came from the snowdrift.

He quickly scrambled out of the snow. Another window was flung open over his head.

�Take a picture!� Fisher yelled, leaning out the window. �Do your job!�

Shrugg struggled out of the snowdrift and ran towards the road, taking photographs the entire time.

* * *

�Did he die?� Schmidlap said, struggling to the window. �What�s going on?�

�Get the picture!� Fisher shouted from the next window.

Shrugg ran across the road, flashbulb still going off erratically as he took pictures. He stopped in the middle of the highway.

The huge thing spotted him. Suddenly, a sickly green light lanced down out of the sky, just like in the science fiction shows. The snow swirled up golden flakes and a gust of freezing cold wind slammed into Shrugg. Frost coated his cheeks, icicles hung from his eyebrows (and other places), and his skin was transformed into a trendy, pale blue-white � kind of like a northwoods nosferatu.

Back at the hotel, the blast of cold stopped just short of the windows as the others all ducked back inside. When they looked again, they saw Shrugg slowly walking back, shivering and shaking.

Fisher ran down to the lobby. He found a bar on the door and the owner standing in the middle of the room with a shotgun in his hand.

�No, eh!� the man said nervously. �It�s just a bear, eh. But stay inside. It�s just a bear but stay inside.�

He looked scared to death.

�It�s just a bear!� he said again. �I said it�s just a bear.�

�I believe you!� Fisher said. �I have friend out there. He fell out the window and I have to go get him. He�s going to freeze to death.�

�Oh ... he�ll be fine, eh,� the other man said. �It�s just a bear, eh.�

�He�ll be fine,� Fisher said. �Can I take him this coat?�

�But it�s a bear! You don�t want to give a bear a coat, eh.�

�No no.�

The conversation continued to go around in circles as Combine entered the lobby.

* * *

Meanwhile, Farcas leapt out of the window with a blanket. He landed in another snow drift. Then he headed for Shrugg.

Schmidlap looked up into the sky but could see no sign of where the green light had come from. However, he saw what looked like an extra star in Orion�s belt that just might have been suspicious. He watched it for some time.

* * *

�You ain�t never heard a bear before?� the owner said. �It�s just a bear.�

�This bear show up often, in town?� Fisher asked.

�It�s just a bear,� the other man said. �I don�t know what�s so exciting about a bear, eh.�

�But does he show up often?�

�No, I don�t think so, eh.�

He called for Combine to go back to bed as well.

* * *

Farcas wrapped the blanket from Shrugg�s roll-away bed around him. It was rough, like it was made of a mixture of burlap and wool, but at least it was warm. The two of them stumbled back to the hotel. Just as they reached the door and tried to open it, there was a shout from within and someone fired a shotgun.

* * *

The owner was alternating between begging the others to go back to bed and screaming at them that there was nothing out there. Then there was a rattle from the door.

�The bear!� he shrieked.

He fired both barrels at the door. Fortunately, he was a lousy shot. One blast blew a hole in the wall on one side of the door and the other blast tore through the wall on the other side of the door. Fisher leapt at the man, who turned back towards him. The hot barrel of the shotgun slammed into his face.

�Oh, I�m sorry, eh!� the owner said. �Sorry about that!�

A rattle came from the door and the bar fell to the floor. The shotgun had blasted through both sides of it.

�We need to get a cold beer on that,� the owner said, ushering Fisher towards his living area.

The door slowly creaked open to reveal Farcas and Shrugg peeking in. The owner was alternatingly soothing or berating Fisher and pressing a cold beer on his face where the shotgun had slightly burned the man.

�I�m really sorry,� the man said. �Why�d you do that!?! You shouldn�t have done that! Oh, I�m hoping you�re going to be okay. Don�t ever do that again! Are you sure? Let�s get a beer on you, let�s get something cold. Man, you�re so stupid! But you�re great guests.�

He told Fisher to hold the beer to his face. Then he opened a second beer.

�And put that in your mouth,� he said.

�Thanks man,� Fisher said.

�Have a doughnut too,� the man said. �You want some smokes? Smoking�s bad! You shouldn�t smoke! Here, give me one.�

Farcas helped Shrugg upstairs where the man took a hot shower. Combine returned to bed and Fisher arrived at the rooms a short time later. They all discussed briefly what they�d seen.

�Yeah, a star was moving up there,� Schmidlap said. �I think there was a UFO. Green light.�

�You think there was extra-terrestrial involvement?� Combine asked.

�I don�t know. I don�t know what the one thing was. It was huge!�

�Did we all see it?�

Everyone agreed that they had seen it.

�Did it look like it was pissed?� Combine asked.

�Ripping dogs up,� Farcas said.

* * *

The rest of the night was quiet. Shrugg made sure he wore pants to bed.

The next morning a mountie was talking to the owner when they came down from their room.

�It was a bear,� the owner was telling the man.

�Yeah, those bears are awful,� the mountie said.

�I don�t like those bears.�

�Hello, good day, eh,� the man said to the reporters.

They muttered about green lights and UFOs.

�They grow �em big up in Canada, I guess,� Schmidlap said.

He and Fisher headed off for breakfast at the diner next to the hotel.

* * *

Combine, Shrugg, and Farcas went out to the scene of the attack. They found some dead dogs and some tracks while the mountie examined the scene as well. Shrugg took some pictures of the tracks that might have been bear tracks but didn�t look terribly much like bear tracks. He also took pictures of the dogs.

Combine realized that the wounds on the dead dogs looked a great deal like cattle mutilations. He wondered if the animals were actually cows that had been turned into dogs and then mutilated.

�It�s probably the voodoo people from Zimbabwe came here, brought some cow carcasses and used to voodoo magic to turn them into dogs,� he said.

Farcas examined the tracks. Though the wind had blown them and they looked somewhat like bear tracks, he didn�t think they looked like the traditional bigfoot tracks.

Shrugg also took some pictures of Ed, the Mountie.

�This is a big story, huh?� Farcas said to him. �Lots of ripped up dogs.�

�Oh no,� Ed said. �It looks like it was just a bear, eh.�

�Like I said, a bear came and ripped up all these dogs.�

�It was just a bear, eh.�

�Yeah.�

�It�s a terrible thing but when you live on the edge of town, these kinds of things happen, eh. Oh, you�re not from around here, are you? Are you liking Canadia?�

�Yeah.�

�It�s a great country. It�s a great country.�

He looked into the distance, his eyes sparkling in the sun and the wind blowing his hair just enough, his jacket bright red against the cold, white snow. Shrugg took a photo.

�Do you get bear attacks like this often,� Farcas asked.

�Oh, not often but every once in awhile,� Ed said.

�Every once in a while?�

�Because it is Canada.�

�Yeah. Does this happen on a regular basis?�

�Well, I just said not often.�

�Well, no.�

�Which would mean not a regular basis, eh.�

�Well, not often, but like the same time every month?�

�No. No, I think the last bear attack was a while back.�

�Totally irregular?�

�That�s what it seems like. Every once in a while you have a bear.�

�What kind of bear does this sort of thing?�

�A big one. Ed McTaggert,� he motioned towards the hotel, �yeah, he said it was a bear. Sounds like it was a bear, eh. Said he tried to shoot it through the door.�

�No, that was ... us.�

�You shot it through the door?�

�He shot us through the door.�

�You look pretty good for somebody who�s been shot through a door.�

�Luckily he missed.�

�Oh, that�s good, eh.�

Shrugg said if they had any more reports of bear attack, they�d help them look for the bear.

�Are you bear hunters?� Ed asked.

�No,� Shrugg said.

�Why are you hunting bear?�

�It might help out the region.�

�Well, that�s my job, eh. We�re looking into it. Don�t worry about it, eh.�

�Well, we�re more than happy to help,� Combine said.

�Why do you want to help us?� Ed said. �You�re just civilians; you might get hurt. We don�t want you getting hurt, eh. You should leave this up to the professionals. You know we�re Royal ... and Canadian ... and Mounted. We are the police, eh.�

�Think of us as Scooby-Doo without the dog,� Combine said.

�Yeah, do they ever get hurt?� Farcas asked.

�It�s just a bear, eh!� Ed said. �God. What is wrong with you guys? You�re all obsessed about this bear?�

�We don�t want to see anyone get hurt,� Farcas said.

�Well, they�re not my dogs, eh,� Ed said.

�How about a dollar?� Shrugg said, holding out an American dollar bill.

Combine asked the mountie about a university or science academy on Slave Lake in Snowdrift, but the man didn�t know anything about it. When they asked how many people were in Snowdrift, he guessed at a couple hundred.

Then Ed the Mountie mounted up on his horse and headed out majestically. When Farcas called to him and he came back.

�What would be a good place to locate ... someone,� Farcas asked. �We�ve got a friend up here we�re trying to locate, but we don�t know where he is up here.�

�Do you know his address?� Ed asked.

�No, unfortunately, we don�t.�

�Do you know his name, eh?�

�Yeah, his name is Anton Sacka-Weejie.�

�I never heard of him. Is he a missing person?�

�No, he�s just a contact we have up here that we�re trying to get hold of.�

�Well, you could try a telephone book.�

�We do have a P.O. Box for him.�

�Well, then you�ll have to go to the post office, eh. You go to the post office, if he�s got a P.O. Box, they might be able to tell you what his address is.�

�Oh, okay, thank you.�

�You�re welcome.�

Then he headed off.

* * *

Fisher and Schmidlap, meanwhile, had a nice breakfast with plenty of back bacon, eggs, gravy, and toast. The waitress brought them beers too.

�With breakfast?� Schmidlap said.

�Oh, sorry, eh,� the girl said. �That should be light beer.�

They also asked if there was a place to rent a car and they learned that the car rental places were all booked up. When Fisher told them they were trying to find a way to get to other parts of Great Slave Lake, the waitress told them that they might be able to rent a plane. She wrote down the information on a card.

�It�s Captain Sturgeon,� she said.

�Captain Sturgeon?�

�He�s great. He�s an American.�

* * *

Tabloid! - Faux Pas Part 2

Max_Writer — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 20:04:07 GMT

* * *

The five reporters met up after Fisher and Schmidlap had finished their breakfast. They discussed renting a car and Fisher told them he�d found a guy who could fly them to where they wanted to go. Combine suggested renting dog sleds but that idea was soon nixed. Then he talked about renting snowmobiles.

Farcas and Shrugg headed for the post office to try to track down the address attached to the P.O. Box. Meanwhile, Fisher and Schmidlap went to find Captain Sturgeon. Combine went to inquire about snowmobile rentals.

* * *

Combine didn�t have much luck finding rental snowmobiles. They would cost $50 a day, each, and none of them had brought the heavy coats and hoods they�d need for such overland travel.

He headed to the post office.

* * *

A large group of people had formed a picket line and were protesting in front of the post office. Signs read �Management Unfair,� �Boycott Canadian Post Office,� and �More Stamps.� No one was crossing the picket line. Some locals were watching and one man even had a fold-out chair, a TV tray, and a cooler.

�What�s happening?� Farcas asked the man in the chair. �What�s going on?�

�Hey, you have a funny accent,� the man said, pouring some coffee from a thermos.

He put some doughnuts, cooked back bacon, and cigarettes onto the TV tray.

�Nice spread there,� Farcas said to him.

�Yeah, I�m waiting for them to beat up the next scab that tries to go through,� the man said. He brightened up but then looked sad. �Oh, that little old lady�s changed her mind. She isn�t going. Damn it.�

�What�s got you all in such an uproar here?�

�Oh, the Canadian Post Office is on strike ... again.�

�Oh, they are?�

�Yeah. See, look.�

He pointed at the building. Over the door was a sign that read �Six days since the last strike.� The �Six� was one of those numbers that could be changed. Everyone once in a while, someone peeked out the windows upstairs.

�Wow,� Farcas said. �Oh, I just need to check on something inside real quick. I don�t work there.�

�Me either,� the man said.

�Nice. That�s great. At least you don�t have to personally put up with their crap then.�

�Well, I don�t get my mail. I�m waiting for them to stop and then I�m going to get my mail.�

�At least you don�t have to wait for bills,� said Combine, who had come up during the last part of the conversation.

�I do have to wait for bills, eh,� the man said.

He opened up a beer from his cooler and took a swig.

�They got to break to go to the bathroom sometime, and that�s when I�m going in,� he said.

He looked them over.

�Are you scabs?� he asked.

�No no no no,� Farcas said quickly. �I just need to go in and check some mail.�

�Oh, look at that! Little girl! Oh ... she left. Damn it.�

�I just need to go in and check some mail.�

�Oh. Go!�

�I have a feeling that would be real ...�

�Entertaining,� Shrugg interjected.

�... hazardous to our health,� Farcas finished.

�I�ll hold your camera if you don�t want them to break it, eh?� the man said.

�I don�t want you to hold the camera but that�s a good idea not to take it with me,� Shrugg said.

�Well, I�m not going anywhere. Not �til this cooler�s empty, at least.�

Farcas headed up to the protesters. They glared at him.

�So, I hear you�re having problems with the management in there,� he said.

�That�s right, eh!� one of the protesters said angrily. �You a scab?�

�No no no no no,� Farcas said.

The other protesters started muttering amongst themselves that he was probably a scab. The last one sounded like a British woman.

The protesters looked around.

�Who was that, eh?� one of them said.

�I�ve been watching Monty Python,� another man said, laughing. �It�s funny.�

�I want to go talk to them and tell them how bad they�re doing a job with you guys,� Farcas said.

�They know, eh,� the man said to him. �They know what they�ve been doing.�

�But I�m trained in this. I can convince them to give you ... what are you actually looking for?�

�Better work and better pay, eh!�

�Well, you know what��

�And more doughnuts. And longer breaks, eh. And coffee. And beer. We want to be able to smoke in the mail room. We want to be able to smoke the mail if it�s the right kind, eh.�

�I�m trained in negotiations. Why don�t I go in there and see what I can do for you guys?�

�All right, you can go in,� the spokesman said. He turned to the other strikers. �He�s gonna get us better jobs.� Then he turned back to Farcas. �Don�t come out �til you get us better jobs, eh.�

Farcas jotted down some information and then asked Shrugg if he was ready.

�Who�s that?� the spokesman said.

�Fact checker,� Shrugg replied.

�He has some information for me that I can use in the negotiations,� Farcas said.

�Yeah, grab him!� the spokesman said, pointing at Shrugg.

Two of the other men on strike grabbed him.

�If you�re a scab, eh, we�re going to beat the crap out of him!� the spokesman said. He turned to Combine. �Who the hell are you, eh?�

�I�m looking for work,� Combine said. �I just got into town. I�m looking for work.�

The strikers glared at him.

�Don�t be crossing the line or you�re a scab!� the spokesman said. �There�s nothing in there but our jobs and if you try to take our jobs, we�re going to beat the crap out of you.�

�What if this is the only place in town for me to get a job?� Combine said.

�You�re out of luck, then, because then one of us will get fired.�

�Yeah, he ain�t taking my job!� another man said.

�He ain�t taking my job!�

�Meauh � JOB!�

�Don�t you be taking Elmo�s job,� the spokesman said. �He�s been there 14 years. He�s this close to retirement. He�s got a fat pension saved up.�

�I was with him,� Combine pointed after Farcas, who was just entering the building.

�So he is a scab!� the spokesman said. �I�m beating his ass when he comes out.�

�What�s that!?!� Shrugg said, pointing.

When the picketers looked, he ran away. He ended up leaving his camera with Combine, telling the man he hadn�t been warm since the night before. He headed back for Akron with the film of the photos he�d taken.

* * *

Farcas closed the doors behind him and made sure they were locked. He broke into the back room and quickly found out who owned the P.O. Box they were looking for. The address was in the town of Snowdrift. He jotted it down and pocketed it.

Then he looked around the place for some beer but couldn�t find it. There were no more doughnuts, only empty boxes.

* * *

Fisher and Schmidlap found the office of Captain Sturgeon.

�Captain Sturgeon,� Fisher said as they entered the place.

�Yes, can I help you?� the small man behind the desk asked in a frighteningly boring monotone.

Captain Sturgeon had a bland face, flat brown hair, and dull brown eyes. He spoke without inflection.

�Hi, I�m Ralph Fisher.�

�Hello Ralph Fisher, I�m Captain Sturgeon.�

�The waitress at the restaurant said that you might be able to fly us around Great Slave Lake today.�

�Yes, I have a plane. I could fly you around Great Slave Lake today.�

�How much would that cost us?�

�It would cost ...�

His eyes glazed over in thought.

�... how many? It�s just you and your friend, here?�

�Five of us,� Schmidlap said.

�There are five of you?� Captain Sturgeon said. �It would be $100 and then I fly you.�

�Will you fly us back after?�

�Yes, I can wait and fly you back after.�

�For another hundred?�

�It will be another $100. No, I will give you a discount. It will be $50.�

�I have another question,� Fisher said. �How long have you been up here?�

�Only for a few months,� Captain Sturgeon said. �I was working in Florida but I found it very dull.�

�Very dull?� Fisher said.

Captain Sturgeon handed him a form to fill out. It was a standard boilerplate with background information and an agreement not to sue if there was an accident.

�You ever see anything weird flying around up here?� Fisher asked.

�I don�t see anything weird, no,� Captain Sturgeon said in his flat monotone. �It�s boring in Canada. I�m looking for a little excitement.�

�When can we leave?�

�What time do you wish to leave? I can have the plan ready for you anytime. You said you wanted to leave today. I can leave anytime today.�

�How about noon?� Schmidlap said.

�Very well, meet me here at noon,� Captain Sturgeon said.

�Is there a library in town?� Fisher asked.

�I don�t know,� Captain Sturgeon replied. �I don�t read.�

�You don�t know, you don�t read? You been here a couple months and you didn�t drive by a building that says �library?��

�No. It�s very dull here. I don�t pay much attention to buildings.�

�Any newspaper in town.�

�I believe so but I don�t read the newspaper. I don�t read.�

�You don�t know the name of the newspaper?�

�It is probably the Yellowknife Newspaper.�

�Thank you very much, Captain Sturgeon.�

�You�re very welcome. It was very nice to meet you. It�s the most exciting thing that�s happened to me all month.�

They headed back into town and stopped at the newspaper office. The only unusual things in the paper over the last few months were the bear attacks. There had been about three in the last year. Fisher was pretty sure it was all a conspiracy.

* * *

Farcas found a typewriter and typed up the demands that the picketers wanted. Then he put a note on it to the effect that management would provide the employees with all of the demands. He took it up to the offices of management where he found the men in suits frantically sorting mail.

�I need you guys to sign this,� Farcas said.

�Oh, thank God!� one of the men said. �A scab finally showed up, eh! Okay, come here!�

�No no no no no!� Farcas said as they hustled him into the room and shoved him in front of a pile of mail that came up to his shoulder.

�Get sorting!� the man said. �Thanks so much! We appreciate this so much! We�ll get you some doughnuts, eh!�

Then they went back to sorting the mail.

�I need you to sign for the boxes I�m delivering that are downstairs,� Farcas said.

�What?� one of the men said. �You�re just a delivery boy!�

He signed the bottom of the sheet of paper with an �x.�

�Thank you,� Farcas said.

�Send some scabs!� the man called after him as he left. �We�ll take anybody. We�re desperate, eh!�

Farcas left the building and held up the piece of paper.

�I got you a deal!� he shouted at the picketers.

They looked surprised and then broke out into a cheer. They rushed forward and grabbed Farcas, lifting him up onto their shoulders and bearing him to a nearby bar, where they plied him with drinks. He had been so convincing that they didn�t even look at the paper he�d held up. He found himself there for some time.

The old man with the chair had folded it up and joined the crowd. Combine did the same thing. The next hour was taken up with eating and drinking. Farcas was not sure where the piece of paper was. The last he remembered having it was in the bathroom. He was very, very drunk.

Combine and Farcas hailed a cab with an Arab driving it. He drove them back to the Snowdrift Hotel, looking around suspiciously the entire time. He dropped them off, charging them double of what Combine thought they should pay. Fisher and Schmidlap pulled up at about the same time.

�Hey ... you guys ...� Farcas said drunkenly. He looked disheveled and reeked of alcohol.

�You don�t want to know what happened,� Combine said.

Farcas fell over into the snow. His notepad fell out of his pocket, open to the page where he�d jotted down the address.

* * *

They took a cab to Captain Sturgeon�s airport. There was a single-engine plane on the tarmac.

�Are you ready to leave now, sirs?� Captain Sturgeon asked, his voice monotone.

�Yes, we are ready,� Fisher said.

�Is your friend going to be okay?�

�Yeah, he�ll be fine.�

�Do you need help getting him on board?�

�No, we�ll get him on board.�

�Let�s go then.�

They got Farcas on the tiny plane and strapped him into a seat.

�Didn�t I see you in that movie ... Star Wars?� Fisher asked Captain Sturgeon.

�I don�t know that movie,� the other man replied. �I�ve never seen that movie, sir.�

�You�re from America and you�ve never seen Star Wars?�

�No. I�ve never seen Star Wars. I don�t see many movies.�

�You�re like a robot.�

Captain Sturgeon did a preflight check while Fisher talked to the others about medical droids from the movie Star Wars.

They flew up over the Great Slave Lake and soon spotted another village on its shore. Just then a UFO shot down from the north. The big, silvery, cigar-shaped objected jinked and swerved through the air like no normal flying craft. Suddenly, sickly green beams lanced out from its hull, just missing Captain Sturgeon�s craft. Where the beams struck ground, dirt and snow exploded into the air. Where they hit water, the ice shattered into a thousand pieces. Captain Sturgeon didn�t seem to have noticed.

Fisher grabbed the camera that was around Farcas� neck and started taking pictures out of the windows as best he could.

�Get us to the ground!� Schmidlap yelled. �Land this thing!�

Captain Sturgeon shoved forward on the controls and the aircraft headed straight down. He began his own series of jinks and turns, sending the tiny craft flying like a fighter jet. Everyone was tossed around the cabin except for Captain Sturgeon. Fisher continued to take photographs as quickly as he could. One of the doors flew open and the unconscious Farcas was almost flung out.

Sturgeon was quite the pilot.

�Finally, some excitement,� he mumbled in his monotone voice at one point.

He flew through a barn that was blasted to pieces by the green beam a moment later. He flew between trees and under bridges, one of which were also destroyed behind them. He remained completely and utterly calm throughout the entire mad flight. After several minutes, the green beams stopped and there was no sign of the UFO.

�Don�t worry, guys, I got pictures of it,� Fisher said.

Shortly after that, they landed near the town of Snowdrift. True to its name, there were many snowdrifts in the village, one of which they dumped Farcas into to wake him up as they were tired of carrying him. He had a terrible hangover and he found some bruises on himself that he couldn�t explain.

�What did you guys do?� he asked.

�You fell in the parking lot,� Combine said.

�We got attacked by a UFO,� Schmidlap said.

�But I got pictures, man!� Fisher said. �I got pictures of everything. It�s going to blow the doors off all the conspiracies. I got proof, man! Nobody can cover his up! I got proof!�

�Great,� Farcas said, holding his head and groaning.

�I�m going to have to let my buddy Tinfoil Ray know about this,� Combine muttered.

* * *

Great Slave Lake Academy of Arts and Sciences was actually a little log cabin in the deep, snow-bound woods. As they got closer, they could see that the place looked like it�d been ransacked. Fantastic junk, some of it snow-covered, some of it not, was scattered among the trees all around the building. The cabin itself looked like a scavenger�s dream. It was covered with nailed-down bits of everything: flattened tin cans, old boards, hides, plastic sheeting, truck fenders, old windows, screen doors, and traffic signs. A satellite dish perched precariously on the roof. The place seemed deserted except for the hum of a generator.

A wooden sign nailed over the door read �GREAT SLAVE LAKE ACADEMY OF ARTS AND SCIE―� but the rest was missing. A yellowed note taped on the door read �True seekers round back.�

�Black helicopters, man,� Fisher whispered. �Black Helicopters. Black Suburbans.�

At the back of the cabin in a small clearing was a battered picnic table cleared of snow. A well-worn path led from it to the house, while other tracks stomped all around the clearing and branched off the woods in various directions.

Fisher suggested sitting at the table and calling Professor Sacka-Weejie out. He sat down at the picnic table. Combine sat down while Farcas looked at the tracks, which bore a striking resemblance to the tracks of the creature that had appeared near the hotel the night before. They were the wrong shape and size for bigfoot or yeti tracks. Fisher called out for Professor Sacka-Weejie.

Schmidlap wandered to the front of the house and started looking through the junk in the hopes of finding something worthwhile.

Suddenly there was a terrible hissing and gurgling noise from the house! Something horrifying was happening inside. Just as Fisher and Combine stood up, the back door opened and out came a stunted humanoid clutching a smoking something in its three-fingered hand. It seemed to be wearing some kind of silver suit like ... well, you know. The suit covered its face too, except for its huge, saucer-like eyes.

�Take a picture! Take a picture!� Fisher screamed.

Farcas realized he had the camera and took a picture of the alien.

�Doctor Sacka-Weejie, I presume?� Fisher said calmly to the figure.

�Eeeep!� the figure said. �Eeeep!�

Then it turned and bolted back to the cabin, slamming the back door behind it. Just then Schmidlap came around the side of the building.

�There�s an alien in there!� Fisher said. �There�s an alien in there! We got a picture! We got a picture!�

�I got the picture,� Farcas said.

�What are we waiting for!?!� Schmidlap said.

He ran to the back door but found it locked.

�I�m not going to be fooled by THEM!� a voice came through the door. �I know that THEY�RE coming to get me because THEY know that I know what THEY already know!�

�Who is �they?�� Fisher called through the door.

�You know who THEY are because you�re part of THEM.�

�No we�re not!�

�THEY are part of an evil conspiracy run by THEM and THEY ... you ... have come to get me to make me one of THEM or get rid of me so that THEY can continue in their secret plans to have the world run by THEM.�

�We�re not them!� Farcas called. �We�re us!�

�They�re after me, too, man!� Fisher said. �I know what you�re talking about, man! They�re after me too!�

�No no, it�s a trick,� the voice called out again. �I think that you�re part of THEM.�

�We�re not part of them, we�re part of us!� Farcas said again.

�No! For THEM, us is THEM,� the voice said.

�So aliens can speak ... English?� Schmidlap said.

�Well, they do have those transcommunicator thingies,� Combine said.

�Don�t try to confuse me!� the voice called out.

�Hey! The black helicopters have been chasing me for years!� Fisher said. �I know exactly what you�re talking about.�

�You�re just trying to trick me!�

�No, I�m not trying to trick you.�

�Bigfoot was out here,� Schmidlap suddenly said.

�I know all about the fake moon landing and all that other stuff,� Fisher went on. �I believe you. The government lies! They didn�t land on the moon��

�Why were you shooting at us from your spaceship?� Schmidlap asked.

�What!?!� the voice said. �Don�t try to confuse me!�

The others looked at Schmidlap.

�You said there was an alien in there!� he said.

�I know you�re THEM,� the voice came from behind the door again. �There�s no aliens in here. You�re just trying to trick me into opening the door.�

�We got a picture!�

�We just saw one come out!� Combine said.

�No no no!� the voice replied. �You�re not going to confuse me. I�m not going to let THEM take me away and brainwash me.�

�We just got shot at by a spaceship when we were flying here!� Schmidlap said.

�I�m a reporter,� Fisher said.

�With some crazy bush pilot that acts like he�s dead inside,� Combine said.

�Excuse me fellows, excuse me,� Farcas said, trying to change his voice. �I got beer and pizza, eh.�

�And you�re not going to fool me with your creepy accent!� the voice behind the door said.

�Wait,� Schmidlap said. �Now wait. Who we talking to?�

�You ordered pizza, eh?� Farcas said, still trying to disguise his voice.

�We�re just talking to the door,� Fisher said. �We�re just talking to the door. You know as much as we do.�

�Is this Anton Sacka-Weejie?� Schmidlap said.

�I know you�re working for THEM and I know you�re going to try to keep me from telling the truth!� the voice said.

�No, we want to talk to you about Grant�s tomb!�

�What?�

�We work for a tabloid and we�re fact checking one of our stories.�

�Do you know who�s in Grant�s tomb, by chance?� Combine asked.

�Wait a minute,� the voice called. �You�re going to print the truth.�

�Yeah!� Schmidlap said.

�The whole truth?�

�And nothing but the truth,� Combine said.

�You�re idiots!�

�That�s what we get paid to do, sir,� Schmidlap said.

They were finally able to convince the man to open the door. Professor Anton Sacka-Weejie turned out to be a human being. He was very short, standing only four foot eight inches, and completely bald. He had hugely thick glasses that magnified his eyes and he was wearing a silver snowmobile suit with hood and a face mask for warmth. He did only have three fingers on his right hand and the smoking thing he was holding was a cup of espresso.

�So, you believe in telling the truth?� he asked them. �You believe in bigfoot and the aliens and��

�Yeah!� Schmidlap said.

�We seen one last night,� Combine said.

�Come on in,� Professor Sacka-Weejie said.

�So great, we got a picture ...� Schmidlap said. He shook his head. �You guys are awesome.�

Professor Sacka-Weejie�s story didn�t make much sense. He started babbling about THEM and THE CONSPIRACY. He went on about clones and how World War I was all part of THEIR plot and how he had been enlightened and how it all started in 1864 and the assassination of Lincoln wasn�t really Lincoln and how Booth could see the clones and how U.S. money had secret messages coded in it and it was not as pretty as Canadian money anyway.

�And would you like some coffee?� he said.

Schmidlap was trying to write down as much of the babbling rant as he could. Combine was getting as much of it down in shorthand as he could.

What Fisher understood the professor was trying to say that there was an evil conspiracy of ancient proportions that had been working for centuries to control humanity for its own evil ends. According to him, sometime in the 1800s THEY perfected the secrets of cloning and behavioral conditioning. That allowed THEM to clone world leaders and then condition their clones into absolute loyalty to THEIR conspiracy. THEIR clones weren�t perfect, though, so people who knew what to look for could spot THEIR clones.

When they asked how he knew all of that, he told them that he�d been enlightened by friends.

�Oh, and they�re coming over for coffee!� he said.

Just then, they heard that burbling and hissing noise they�d heard every time the sickly green beams had appeared. The noise was coming from outside. A charged scent of ozone filled the air and the clomp of footsteps came from outside. The professor�s face was beatifically calm as the said �They�re here,� and got up to open the door.

�Uh-oh,� someone said.

Outside were two tall visitors. They wore silvery suits. They were bald. They had large, saucer-like eyes. They had three-fingered hands. They were not the professor�s cousins.

�Take a picture!� Fisher hissed.

They saw the reporters and did a double-take. Then they raised their three-fingered hands which were clutching silvery tubes and pointed them straight at the reporters.

Farcas closed his eyes and took a picture, the flash filling the room momentarily with light. Fisher and Schmidlap ducked for cover. Combine walked towards the creatures. A purple ray erupted from the aliens� weapons and struck Fisher and Combine. Both of them fell over, paralyzed, Fisher pointing forward. Schmidlap leapt over the back of the couch and cowered there, hero that he was.

The aliens looked towards Farcas. Schmidlap headed for a full-length mirror on the wall nearby while Farcas ducked and crawled behind a chair. One of the aliens tried to shoot Schmidlap but missed him, the purple ray actually striking the mirror, creating a rippling affect behind it, though not bouncing off it like Schmidlap had hoped. The other alien fired at Farcas but missed him as well.

�No no, it�s not THEM!� Professor Sacka-Weejie called. �It�s not THEM! They�re friends.�

The aliens stopped firing. Schmidlap slipped into the next room and used the mirror to see the aliens. Farcas lifted up his arms from behind the couch.

�Hi?� he said.

�They are friends of yours, Professor Sacka-Weejie?� one of the aliens said in a deep voice.

�Yes, yes they are,� Professor Sacka-Weejie said. �They�re not with THEM. They are seekers of the truth! Seekers of the truth!�

�Ah, very well. Our apologies.�

One of them flipped a switch on his weapon and fired his weapon at Fisher.

�Take a picture! Take a picture! Take a picture!� the man shrieked as the paralysis wore off.

Then they did the same thing to Combine.

�Most ... we apologize most ... very much,� one of the aliens said.

�Let me just get everyone some coffee,� said Professor Sacka-Weejie.

They sat around the little table with the aliens to chit chat. Professor Sacka-Weejie brought out a pot of coffee and a jug of anti-freeze. The aliens seemed to like the latter in their coffee. When Schmidlap got out his Dictaphone, the alien waved him off.

�No, please,� the creature said. �Do not record us. Please. Please. You have to understand.�

They confirmed the professor�s story about THEM as Combine took notes in shorthand.

�Were you the ones that were shooting at us earlier?� Fisher asked.

�We had to make sure you weren�t working for THEM,� the alien said. �You see, we feel bad because we�re the ones that taught THEM the secrets of cloning a long time ago. We didn�t realize that THEY would use these secrets to evil ends. Ever since, we have been trying to secretly make amends. Of course, we don�t want to go public. That would create a panic, and THEY would be able to blame us for things THEY did. Furthermore, THEY are always hunting for our secret alien base, and if anyone printed anything about us, THEY might be able to find it. Finally, there�s always the problem that THEY are a secret conspiracy. Anybody who reveals something about THEM becomes a target. This could make your lives exciting ... but short.�

He looked over all of them.

�I call them Sid and Nancy,� Professor Sacka-Weejie loudly whispered to the reporters as he looked at the aliens.

�Why did you vaporize that ... what was that you vaporized in town the other night?� Fisher asked.

�The Wendigo?� Sid said. �It was sent to investigate you. It got ...�

�Hungry?� Farcas asked.

�... a little excited,� the alien said.

�What is a wendigo?� Fisher asked.

�It is one of our servants who conceals its presence by staying in the deep woods,� Nancy said. �We sent it to look you over and see if you were a threat to our plans.�

�You found out the cameraman was very little of a threat,� Farcas said.

Fisher laughed.

�In many ways,� Sid said. �His squiggly-spooch is very small.�

�So how did you know we were coming up here?� Fisher asked.

�Oh, we have ways of finding that out.�

According to Sacka-Weejie, Sid, and Nancy, the story about Grant being a space alien was a forgery, written by THEM.

�Oh, it was true,� Sacka-Weejie said. �Grant was. Grant was an alien.�

�We planted him to try to undo some of the damage caused by THEIR clones,� Nancy said. �But that�s not something we want everyone to know about. THEY wrote the article to expose the aliens and increase fear of alien contact. THEY are evil and cunning.�

When they told him that Lester Windooth III had written the article, Sid noted that he might be one of THEM.

�You might want to be cautious around him,� he said. �We need to keep complete secrecy; otherwise THEY might get the upper hand. Not to mention, THEY might be chasing anyone who tells anything about THEM.�

When Schmidlap asked if they wanted to confirm Windooth�s story, Nancy said that they would rather the reporters denied it. THEY were trying to get the story out to discredit the aliens and make them look evil. What the aliens basically wanted was their involvement not to be publicized at all. Combine suggested they could write the story to get rid of any mention of their involvement.

�That would be most appreciated,� Sid said. �Truth is important.�

Both aliens looked at Professor Sacka-Weejie and he nodded.

�Can you give us more knowledge on who THEY are?� Combine said.

The aliens confessed that they were not entirely sure. They only knew that it was a large, world-spanning conspiracy that had been replacing world leaders with clones for hundreds of years. They knew only that the organization consisted of evil humans. They hoped that the tabloid reporters wouldn�t tell the part of the story that involved the aliens at all. They noted that they had no problem of them telling the story of the wendigo, so long as they didn�t mention the aliens or the conspiracy. They felt it would endanger the reporters. They also asked if they had photographs of anything connected to the aliens and wanted the photographs of themselves back as well as any photographs of their ship.

�We will destroy them on our return,� Fisher said.

�We were fairly sure you were working for THEM,� Nancy said.

�Could we get one of those guns to deal with Windooth?� Schmidlap asked.

�No,� Sid said. �We can�t.�

Farcas suggested that they could make a sketch of Windooth so the aliens would know what he looked like and they agreed. They were not sure if Windooth was one of THEIR agents, but it sounded like he might have been.

�My question is this: is there any way we can expose the clones,� Fisher asked. �Is there any weakness of the clones?�

�Certain people can tell,� Sid said.

�They�re world leaders?� Schmidlap asked.

�Your last Republican president was one. The actor. He started malfunctioning towards the end.�

�He still is,� Farcas said.

Combine asked if, when they wrote the story of the wendigo, they might give hints on how to recognize the clones. Schmidlap pointed out that if they mentioned clones, they would make targets of themselves.

�We don�t want to see you hurt,� Nancy said. �You seem nice. Sorry about the whole paralyzation thing. Sorry about that. Sorry.�

�Is there any way we could write it up so that we could convey the traits that tell the clones apart from actual humans?� Combine asked. �We could say that those types of people might actually be wendigo in disguise, not clones.�

The aliens were afraid it might still give away too much. They feared that if THEY find out about their reporters� knowledge of THEM, they might become targets. Schmidlap agreed that it might say too much.

�Well, can we write it up anyways and go with you?� Combine asked.

�Our ships are not meant for humans,� Nancy said. �I don�t think that you would survive. The non-Euclidean geometry might drive you mad.�

�My question is this: the quote we have in the paper says you have proof,� Fisher said to Professor Sacka-Weejie. �We don�t want to discredit you, but they sent us up here to interview you.�

�Tell them that there was no proof,� the professor said. �Tell your editor that the story was a fake. That�d be the best way to do it. They never came up here to interview me.�

He was more than willing to give them a quote noting that the story was a forgery and that he never made the quote. He also said he didn�t know where they got his name from. He also agreed to let them take a picture of him.

�How would you describe your school?� Farcas asked the man.

�We seek the truth,� Professor Sacka-Weejie said. �But don�t mention THEM.�

They decided to bring back the wendigo story.

�What is buried in Grant�s tomb?� Combine asked.

�It�s an alien,� Sid said.

Schmidlap pointed out that Windooth might be one of THEM and was trying to make the aliens out to be evil so they�d fear them.

�Did he have to really drink all that much whiskey?� Fisher asked.

�Oh yeah,� Nancy said. �It was very important for him to drink the whiskey so he could survive in your carbon-based environment. And it was really good whiskey. At least that�s what he told us.�

They decided to go with the wendigo story. The aliens said they appreciated it and warned them to be careful of THEM. Unfortunately, they didn�t have any good way to identify THEM.

�Before you guys leave, make sure you try some of the Canadian whiskey,� Farcas told the aliens. �It�s good stuff.�

�Oh, we have,� Sid said. �It�s almost as good as this.�

He pointed to the anti-freeze bottle they had been using to top off their coffee.

�We do like putting whiskey in our coffee also,� Farcas said.

* * *

When the reporters returned to Akron, they turned over the photograph of Professor Sacka-Weejie. They also found that Shrugg�s pictures of the wendigo actually turned out fairly well and could be used with the story.

Most of the pictures that Fisher had taken when they had been in Captain Sturgeon�s plane actually somehow ended up being of himself. Mostly he was mugging for the camera and giving a big thumbs up or had his mouth in an �o� and was pointing at where he thought the UFO was, almost as if he were trying to get into the picture with the UFO. He didn�t remember doing any of that.

The UFO was not in any of the photographs.

D&D 3.5 - Fight for the Fallen Keep

Max_Writer — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 02:49:51 GMT

Thursday, March 28, 2013

(After playing Adam Frager�s Dungeons and Dragons scenario �Fight for the Fallen Keep� Friday (March 22) with Aaron, Josh Smith, and Jeff Laforest from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at CaesarCon 2013)

A story of Gruff Gusslegut: Dwarf Ranger

Brycewater was a decent-sized city on the edge of Lake Koran. It was known for its fishing, had fertile soil, and excelled in the crafts and arts. We had paid for a week�s stay at the local inn and enjoyed our stay there to that point.

We had come to the city in our travels and were staying at the Broken Buckle Inn. It was a fine establishment and stood three stories tall, built of cobblestone with louvered cedar shutters and a three-flued chimney running up the back. Large fieldstones encased the double doors as well as the windows flanking the doorway. A wooden plank sign roughly three feet high and two feet wide read �Broken Buckle Inn� above a crude painted leather boot with a broken buckle upon it. The common area was very large and run by Ted Rosenhall, the innkeeper, who stood about six feet tall with shoulder-length hair pulled tight into a pony tail.

I�m Gruff Gusslegut, dwarf ranger. I liked the forest more than the mine and carried a battleaxe and a bow. I also took less care of my beard than some other dwarves. Or so it appeared. Actually, my beard was perfect for the wilderness. I even had a few bird�s nests built into it, though there were no birds. Might have been an egg though. Sometimes I found them there.

With me was Jakob Rocksmasher, a priest of Kord, and the token human of the party. He tended to beat his religion into those he was trying to convert. He was also a klutz and always tripping over his own feet. Faldrial Moonshiver, a half-elven thief of no little repute, was also part of the group. He thought he was better looking than he was and had long, chestnut brown hair. It was perfect without a strand out of place. He carried a rapier and a hand crossbow � the weapons of the pansy. Finally, there was the halfling mage (or so he claimed) Tweedle T�Dum. We had never seen him actually cast a spell. He wore a pointed hat and carried a quarterstaff with a knob on the end, proving he was a wizard. At least to some.

There had been rumors of increased banditry and robbery on the local highways. Trade into and out of the city was nearly at a standstill, though the morale of the people still seemed high. The independent city was still doing well but many worried that without trade, residents would leave and the economy would be damaged as well. Not much was known about the attacks as, to that date, there had been no survivors. Those who had investigated the scenes of the attacks believed it to be the work of orcs.

On that third morning, the conversations in the common room seemed a bit livelier and there was a general excitement about the city. Town criers called out that the magistrate, John Armshed, had declared a quest to local heroes and mercenaries to aid their country and reclaim the nearby keep of Fort Senkin. All those interested were to join a town gathering in two days in front of the town hall. Fliers and signs were posted at every cross street as well as every mercantile shop and front door.

We decided we�d try to help so I bought a small cask of ale and strapped it to my back. Jakob got some money from all of us to buy a magical healing wand in anticipation of injuries.

We spent the next two days gathering information in the city. We learned that the keep lay about three day�s walk north and stood atop a large plateau with little or no cover. Approaching the keep would be very dangerous if the guard posts were manned as the enemy had a vantage point. We also learned that there were abandoned mines under the keep, but they were filled with monsters and giant spiders. That incensed me as I loathed the horrid beasts.

We learned that Lord Senkin was a great adventurer and had performed great deeds throughout the lands. He was said to have done everything from slaying dragons to running around with gnomes bent on burning down taverns. They said he even knew a minotaur and others who comprised a diverse group and ventured far and wide. However, it was said that many scholars believed the stories of Lord Senkin to be false or misleading. Until his later years, many stories about his adventures didn�t hold up. Locations never existed or were ever heard of. It was like he came from another world.

We also learned that a man named Perry Faustburg might have information. He was one of the last guards at Fort Senkin and was working repairing weapons. Faldrial suggested we go to the local smithy.

�Why?� I asked. �Do we need some armor?�

�He was the last known guard,� Faldrial said. �He�s going to know more about the castle than anybody else.�

�Oh. So he�ll have plans.�

�Possibly. And he can tell you all about the spiders, too.�

�I friggin� hate spiders!�

We spent a half day looking around the city before we found the man. The Clank and Bang Smithy had a stone front with a central chimney. Anvils flanked either side of the forge in the back and several men with worn aprons moved about the place. They were too busy to speak to us but I stopped one of the apprentices and he pointed out Perry Faustburg in the back. He was an old man, at least 65, his white hair pulled back into a ponytail. His beard was long and pointed. He looked up from the sword he was repairing.

�I assume you�re here because of the keep?� he asked.

�Yes, we are,� Faldrial said.

�What do you want to know?�

�Everything!� I said.

�Everything you know,� Faldrial said.

�Spiders?�

�What about the spiders?�

�I hate spiders.�

�There are no spiders I know about at the keep,� Faustburg said.

�We were told there were big spiders,� Jakob said. �The size of cattle and they only ate dogs and small children.�

�I didn�t hear that,� I muttered.

�You must be drinking the ale down at that one place,� Faustburg said. �It affects your mind from what I understand.�

�No,� Jakob said.

�We just want to know what you know about the keep,� I said. �There�s a meeting tomorrow.�

�Keep Senkin, as you probably know by now, was run by a man named Lord Senkin,� Faustburg said. �He was a great man. A very caring man. Everybody there I worked with always considered him a little off. He seemed��

�He like little boys?� I asked.

�No.�

�He like little girls?� Jakob asked.

�Could be,� Faustburg said. �I don�t know. I didn�t know the man that well. Nobody ever knew anything of his past. It was like he came out of nowhere. Nobody knew his parents or his towns. He would talk about places, but nobody knew of them. Either they were far away or he was just making them up. He kept referring to a place called Argana, but nobody ever knew if it was a region, a country, a city. Nobody ever knew.�

�Sounds made up,� I said.

�That�s what a lot of people thought,� Faustburg said.

Once Faustburg started talking, he wouldn�t shut up. He told us that Lord Senkin had once vanquished 50 kobolds all by himself. He also related that Senkin was looking for something called the Domav Stone, but never said much more about it.

As he seemed rather verbose, I invited him back to the Broken Buckle to have a meal with us, wet his whistle with beer, and tell us more. He was happy to comply and we talked to him for a long time about the place and about Lord Senkin. One very useful piece of information was that a coal shaft ran from the cellars of the keep down into the mines below. The coal was gathered and burned to keep the keep heated. He also said there was an entrance to what he called the Coughing Mines in one of the nearby hillsides. He even drew us a map that showed the entrance to the Coughing Mines.

After he left, we discussed how best to approach the keep.

* * *

In the center of town was the town square. A beautiful park stood there, surrounded by a red brick road. Tall prestigious homes and businesses circled the park. In the center sat a large fountain depicting scholars holding books and scrolls while pointing to the heavens. On the north end was a five-story building with multiple wings and balconies, all made of stone and brick. Tall, graceful towers flanked the entrance to the front of the building and were capped with copper roofs. Ivy climbed up the side of the building.

We arrived close to noon to find a large crowd. An older man with peppered black hair and a mustache walked out onto one of the balconies on the town hall. He wore a fine suede jacket that went to his knees. The rest of his attire was very clean and well kept and he had a lot of silver buttons.

He cleared his throat and the crowd quieted down.

�I have called this gathering, as you all well know by now, to help take back Fort Senkin,� he said. �It has recently come to my attention that many of the local bandit attacks have been traced back to the keep. I know many of you wish I would have acted earlier to put an end to these attacks, but I wasn�t willing to put the safety of the city at risk by thinning our already short supply of militia and guards. It�s also because of this that I�m putting out a request to any and all capable heroes, adventurers, and mercenaries for their assistance. We don�t know all the details yet, but many, if not all of the attacks have come from orcs. We�ve also received word that Fort Senkin is now crawling with the hideous creatures. It doesn�t take an enlightened magus to figure out that this is where the attacks are stemming from and, by ridding the fort of the orcs, it will make this county and city ever safe.

�For those of you brave enough to take back the keep, you will not only be rewarded one thousand gold pieces, but also given the title to the keep. Those of you interested, please see me in my office in an hour. Thank you.�

People in the crowd were calling out questions but the man merely turned and disappeared back into the town hall.

Jakob and I pushed our way through the crowd to the town hall, the others following behind.

�I assume you�re interested in taking back the keep?� Mayor John Armshed asked us.

�Yes,� Jakob said.

�And killing spiders,� I added.

�Very well,� the mayor replied. �I�m very much in need of your assistance. Like I said, I can�t spare the guards to try to take back the keep. I�m just afraid that with all the bandit attacks, there could be more of them lurking out there.�

He told us that Fort Senkin fell 15 year ago. The place sat dormant and unoccupied for many of those years. Only recently was there any activity. The elderly Lord Senkin himself disappeared without warning, vanishing. Shortly after that, the fort was deserted. Nobody knew where he had disappeared.

�I have a loyal and local scout,� the mayor said. �His name is Saul DeTarka. He recently tracked the orcs from an attack on a caravan to the keep. Even though the caravan was well-armed, because many of the bandit attacks had been well-known of by that point, all were lost and no bodies were found.�

After searching the debris of the caravan, the scout had found something. The mayor took out a stout and sturdy battle axe with dwarven runes on the blade. The handle was made of stone and set below it was a dull piece of obsidian. I could see a name on the side of the battle axe.

�It says Laddiger!� I said.

I looked at Tweedle, the smartest in our group.

�Who�s Laddiger?� I asked him.

He usually knew such things.

�He�s the god of the duergar,� Jakob said.

�Duergar!?!� I said. �Oh.�

�Those are your people.�

�Well, it�s been nice working with you,� I said to the rest of the group.

�They�re your people, but��

�They�re not my people!�

�They�re like the bad��

�Duergar aren�t my people!�

�You�re a dwarf, aren�t you?�

�Duergar ain�t dwarves!�

�You�re a dwarf.�

�Yes.�

�And they�re dwarves.�

�No, they�re not!�

�They�re evil dwarves.�

�Duergar are these ... vermin that ... they just look like dwarves. Uh ... I think they can turn invisible at will. We�re going to have to buy some flour.�

�Can you turn invisible at will?�

�No! Can you.�

�Yes, I can.�

�Do it right now.�

�What�s that over there?�

He pointed over my shoulder but I didn�t look away from the man.

�You can�t bluff me,� I said.

�Look, it�s a duergar!� Jakob said, still pointing.

�Entertaining,� the mayor said, obviously not entertained. �I got word early this morning that another attack was on the north road, roughly 20 miles from the city. I sent DeTarka to investigate. There�s no telling when he�ll be back. As of now, that�s all I know. I suggest you ask around the city. There are still those who used to serve Lord Senkin that may know more about the keep.�

�Yeah, we already talked to everybody,� I said. �Everybody.�

�If you were to spare guards, how many guards could you spare?� Tweedle asked.

�Yeah, like for a distraction?� I asked. �Four?�

�I�m not going to risk any of my men�s lives for going foolishly at the keep,� the mayor said.

�Not foolishly,� Tweedle said.

�What if we just send them towards the keep, not to it?� I asked.

�I�m not sure what plan you might have, but once you see where the keep is located, you won�t be able to get close,� he said.

�Do you know what times the attacks happen?� Faldrial asked.

�It�s at night,� the mayor said. �It�s always at night or dusk or early morning.�

�That sounds like duergar,� I muttered. �They don�t like the light.�

�Or dwarves,� Jakob said.

I glared at him.

�No,� I said.

�Or orcs,� he went on.

�Maybe,� I said. �Or goblins.�

Tweedle started to mention the secret entrance to the keep but I shushed him, whispering to him that we didn�t know if we could trust the mayor. I asked to look at the axe and saw that it was fairly well made. It was dull and simple, like duergar weapons tended to be. It had a decent balance.

We were escorted out of the mayor�s office and the town hall. I again suggested buying some flour as I thought duergar could turn invisible.

�Okay wizard, here�s a question,� I said to Tweedle.

�No,� he replied.

�How did you know what I�m going to ask?�

�I don�t.�

�Well then how can you answer?�

�Because I�m pretty sure that�s the answer, but go ahead. You can still ask.�

�Okay, I�ll ask. You know about invisible stuff?�

�Uh ... I ... a little bit.�

�So, if somebody�s invisible and they�re standing in water, does the water ... does it leave it a hole?�

He didn�t think it would. He thought it would look like the water was running through.

�Are you afraid of invisible spiders?� he asked.

�No,� I said.

�Wait, spiders can be invisible too?� Jakob asked.

We agreed to meet back in the town square in an hour. Faldrial talked of getting in with a caravan and I told him to investigate it. I purchased five one-pound bags of flour and a horse, though no tack and saddle. Jakob arrived with horses and a wagon. While I was shopping, I heard the orcs at the fort had a powerful warlock that could turn living flesh into ash. That was why no bodies had ever been recovered after the attacks.

�That�s your job,� I said to Tweedle. �Warlock�s your job.�

�My job?� he said.

�You�re a wizard, you fight the warlock,� I said. �Challenge him to a magical duel.�

�It�s a lot easier if he sees you first, though.�

�Because he�ll ... like my beard?�

�On fire and then I can kill him.�

�Not light it, like it! Shut up!�

�Light it on fire.�

We had also heard of a bandit group called the Legion of Green, whose members dressed as orcs to frighten their victims. They hauled said victims away to devour them, being freakish and primitive people who practiced cannibalism and human sacrifice.

It looked like it would only be a day and a half ride to the keep. We set off that afternoon and made what progress we could before nightfall.

* * *

We found the cave entrance the next afternoon. A large an ominous hole choked with weeds sat at the base of a large hill. A riverbed lay not far from the mine and nearby, barely visible, were the remnants of an old mining community, burnt to the ground. Foundations stuck up to and fro, lining the weedy, broken paths and roads. Nearly buried near the cave entrance was a rail line, now rusty with age.

We had seen Fort Senkin in the distance. It encompassed almost the entire plateau on which it stood. The path up to the keep was narrow and crossed a small, stone bridge near the walls. The portcullis was down. At each corner of the keep were large towers where we could make out the tops of siege equipment. A small trickle of smoke rose up from the structure. In the center of the place was the tall keep itself. The stonework looked loose, pitted, and worn. Several windows were built into the walls and there was a small balcony at the top.

We hid the horses and wagon in a nearby copse of trees that offered good shelter. Then we cleared away the weeds, cobwebs, and vines from the cave entrance and saw nothing but blackness within. As the wind picked up, we could hear the sounds of water dropping far away. It sounded like an old man coughing. Jakob thought he actually heard an old man coughing.

We entered the cave, Faldrial lighting a hooded lantern. I led the way. The floor was lined with track that led to three open tunnels. Two more had collapsed on either side. Track led into the tunnels that left the hub. In the tunnel to the left, I found barely visible tracks of some kind. I told the others. After some discussion, Tweedle headed into the right tunnel and we all followed. It went several hundred feet, the track giving out about halfway, where the tunnel turned into a natural cave until it came to the side of a deep ravine. I dropped a rock in and guessed that it fell about 100 feet.

�I don�t think this is the way,� I said. �And I don�t have any rope, so we�re going to have to head back.�

�Well, I have rope,� Tweedle said. �I have fifty foot. Unfortunately, that�s not going to make it down.�

�Let�s go back and try another tunnel first.�

�Huh?�

�Before we start climbing, let�s try another tunnel.�

�I�m not much of a climber,� Jakob said.

�Yeah, exactly, c�mon, let�s go,� I said.

I headed back down the tunnel. The others followed.

�You know what it seems like to me?� Jakob said. �It seems like to me this was a way in but somebody did something to make sure that no one would get in.�

�You have the most vast imagination of any man I�ve ever met,� I grumbled.

�Thank you.�

�You�re welcome. Let�s go.�

When we got back, we headed left. We went about 90 feet, following the rail line, before the tunnel came to a four-way intersection. The track went each direction. To the left, the tunnel immediately opened into a large room. Straight ahead and to the right, it went as far as I could see.

I motioned for Faldrial to put the hood on his lantern.

�Hold on,� I said. �Wait here.�

I crept to the edge of the room and looked in. It was about sixty feet deep and forty feet wide. There were multiple wooden bins held together by rusty iron bands. Most of them looked empty but some held debris. There was sign of coal in some of the bins as well. There was no movement.

�Clear,� I whispered.

Light appeared behind me and I carefully entered the room. Tweedle picked up a chunk of coal from a bin near the entrance as I continued into the room. There was a cry and a dark, crusty brown dog-headed thing popped up out of one of the bins. Several other heads popped up as well. There were horns on the things� heads and they had glowing red eyes.

�Kobolds!� I said.

They glared at me.

�You kobolds want to make some money?� I said.

The kobold started to lunge out of the box and I stumbled back and fired two arrows into the room. One of Tweedle�s sling bullets struck a kobold near the front of the pack, hitting it in the head. It fell back into the bin. Faldrial�s hand crossbow bolt hit one of the kobolds in the room and it fell with a scream.

The creatures tumbled out of the bins and rushed us.

�C�mon you damned spider-lovers!� I shouted.

Two of them rushed me, their short spears glancing off my armor. Two others used the bins for cover as they approached us. Then Jakob ran into the room, moving between a couple kobolds.

�Glory to Kord!� he yelled.

The morning star came down hard on the ground next to the kobold.

I dropped my bow, drew my battle axe, and cleaved one of the kobolds facing me in half. I swung my axe around my head after the kill, splashing everyone in the area with kobold blood. A kobold popped his head out to look and was struck in the face by one of Tweedle�s sling bullets. It went down without a sound. Another kobold tried to stab me again but I easily dodged the blow. They tried to flank Jakob and another hand crossbow bolt flew into the room. Jakob easily blocked another of the kobolds with his shield and then ran between a pair of them. He tapped his morning star almost gently on another kobold�s head. The creature fell to the floor.

Seeing him subdue his enemy, I turned my axe sideways and tried to knock out the kobold I faced but the creature leapt out of the way. Tweedle kicked a crate. Faldrial slipped around the side of the room and then ran through the last kobold with his rapier.

We looted the dead bodies. The bins were empty except for some raw ore. I tied up the unconscious kobold, first tying his hands, then his feet, and then wrapping the rest of Tweedle�s 50 feet of rope around the creature until I had used it all. Jakob used his healing wand on it and it awoke. It struggled against the bonds and I slapped it in the face.

�Stop struggling,� I growled. �You speak common?�

He looked at me blankly. I asked he spoke dwarvish but the blank look didn�t leave his face. I grabbed him by the throat.

�Speak common!� I shouted at the terrified creature.

He shrieked something in some tongue I didn�t understand. I put him down.

�Shut up,� I said to the beast. �One yip for yes and two yips for no.�

He continued to shriek and squeal.

�That�s way too many,� I said.

�I don�t understand what he�s saying,� Jakob said.

�I can�t under understand him either.�

�Maybe we should just kill him now.�

Then Faldrial said something in a hissing language that bore a resemblance to what the kobold was still shrieking.

�You speak gibberish?� Jakob said.

�I do,� Faldrial said. �Fluently.�

He talked to the kobold and told us that he�d asked it if there were any other humanoids in the mines. I told him to ask if there were any spiders down there. The kobold nodded frantically. I glared at him.

�It�s going to be bad for you from now on,� Faldrial said to me.

�No it�s not,� I said. �I love killing spiders.�

�I know you love killing spiders but apparently we�ve got a lot of them.�

�Ask him if knows the way up to the keep.�

He spoke to the kobold and the creature asked him some question in return. I shook him.

�You�re sounding evasive to me!� I shouted in the creature�s face.

Faldrial spoke at length to the kobold.

�What are you telling this guy?� I asked. �What�s going on?�

�Possibly getting him to help us,� Faldrial said.

�All right, that�s fine with me,� I said. �I got nothing against kobolds.�

Faldrial also told us that if the creature acted funny to just chop him in half.

�Shall I do it right now?� Jakob said. �He�s acting funny right now.�

The kobold said something to Faldrial.

�What�d he say?� I asked.

�What�d he say?� Jakob said.

�He�s going to offer to be our guide,� Faldrial told us.

�Does he know the way up to the keep?� I asked.

�He says he knows his way through the mine.�

�Does he know his way to the entrance up to the keep? Because if he doesn�t, there�s no reason to drag him along.�

�Do you think he�s lying?� Jakob asked.

Faldrial talked to the creature and told us that he didn�t know how to get into the keep, but could take us as far as where the spiders laired. I told him to ask the kobold if other kobolds lived in the place.

�Lots,� he translated.

�He�s lying,� I said.

�I think there�s some, but not a lot.�

�But he could lead us past the other kobolds to the spider area. He thinks.�

�Potentially.�

�That�s what he�s telling us.�

�Yes. That�s basically what he�s saying.�

�Fair enough. Hopefully that�s the right way. Ask him if anyone in his tribe can lead us up to the keep.�

He spoke to the kobold again and then told us none of the kobolds went past the spider room. I started unwrapping the rope from around it and then untied the creature�s feet. I tied his hands behind his back as Faldrial spoke to it in his own language again. He told us that the kobold still claimed he didn�t know of any way into the keep. I told the half-elf to warn the kobold that if shouted out or warned anyone of our approach that he would be instantly killed, but if he cooperated with us, we�d let him go. He translated my threat and told us that the kobold agreed.

The kobold led us out of the room and straight on through the intersection, where the tunnel began to head downwards. He took us through another intersection with a cave-in to the left and caves to the right. Some 50 feet after the second intersection, still following the rail line, the corridor opened into a huge room. The kobold stopped before we reached the entrance and said something quietly in his language.

�Ask him what�s here,� I said. �Is this the spiders, here?�

�He says he goes no further,� Faldrial said. �We�re where the spiders start.�

I started to untie the kobold.

�Tell him to tell his people that if they leave us alone, we�ll leave them alone,� I said. �Live and let live.�

�We should knock him out and throw him in the middle of the room and see if spiders eat him,� Jakob said.

�That seems kind of ... evil,� I muttered. �And awful.�

The kobold, now untied, ran away. I suggested getting some of the kobold bodies. After discussing it for a few moments, Jakob objecting that the spiders wanted blood and I noting that two were killed by blunt sling bullets, I went back to the room with the kobold bodies and retrieved the two corpses that Tweedle had killed. Tweedle asked for a torch and I gave him one. Jakob chanted and his morning star glowed.

�That�s magic,� I said.

�This is what magic looks like,� Jakob said to Tweedle.

The room beyond looked like a staging area. A track ran through it as far as we could see in the dark. A tunnel lay to the right and another tunnel lay further down the left wall. On the track were a half dozen mine carts, some tipped on their side and others upright, waiting for their next load. Wooden bins were scattered around the room. The ceiling was out of sight though I could make out stalactites there. I could hear water dripping all around. Spider webs hung down from the ceiling and tatters of the webs clung to the walls.

�I�ll scout ahead,� I whispered. �Cover me.�

I moved into the room, which proved to be only about 80 feet deep, and I saw nothing in the mine carts or the bins. However, shadows moved in the webs above.

�Spiders! Let�s get �em!� I said.

I headed for the opposite wall and thought I heard Jakob say �Where�s he going?� somewhere behind me. Then the spiders started to swing down on their webs. There were at least four of the things, each of them the size of a man.

Faldrial drew his hand crossbow and aimed at the things. Tweedle took out his sling and swung it around his head. He let fly, striking one of the spiders. Then he backed up to the entrance of the room. I shot the same spider twice, putting two shafts into it, but it continued to descend, blood dripping from its wounds.

�These things are tough!� I called out.

Jakob chanted and I felt suddenly blessed by his presence. The spiders dropped lightly to the ground and rushed towards us with that awful, eight-legged gait the nasties had. Faldrial shot the one filled with arrows as it approached him and it slowed to a crawl. Someone mumbled and two blue, magical missiles flew across the room and struck one of the spiders. I stopped and looked around.

�Was that the halfling?� I said. �Did we miss it? Son of a�!�

I fired two arrows at the spider that had been struck by the magic missiles, both of them sinking into the flesh of the beast. It slowed and stumbled as I backed away. Jakob slammed his morning star into the same spider, crushing its skull, while Faldrial closed his lantern, dropped his crossbow, and moved towards him.

�Come on!� I yelled at the spiders.

They did so, crossing the room. Two of them tried to bite Jakob but he blocked the horrid beasts and they did not injure him. I was not so lucky, however. The spider bit my left arm and I felt the terrible poison course through my veins. I felt terribly weak.

�Buggery stupid buggers!� I shrieked.

�Are you okay?� Jakob called to me.

�Spiders!� I shouted. �Why did it have to be spiders!?!�

Another sling bullet struck the spider that was still latched onto my arm. It fell off me and was badly injured, almost swaying on its eight legs. I dropped my bow and drew the battle axe from my back, then brought it down, but the spider skittered aside. Jakob was swinging wildly at the spiders around him.

Faldrial moved around the edge of the battle and flanked one of the spiders he fought. He skewered it, burying his rapier deep in the beast. The spider turned on the half-elf and bit him, blood and black venom spewing from the wound. Faldrial went pale and sagged. Another spider tried to bite Jakob but the man used his shield expertly. The last creature tried to bite me and sagged, dropping to the ground, its legs curling up underneath it.

�I hate you!� I bellowed.

Another sling bullet slammed into the spider that was fighting Jakob. I moved to stand by him and cut the spider he faced with my battle axe. Jakob turned to the spider that was trying to kill Faldrial. He slammed his glowing morning star down on the creature, cracking its thorax. Faldrial stabbed ineffectively and did a back flip away. The spider turned from him and bit Jakob, who stumbled back, visible sagging. The other spider bit me, tearing at the flesh of my chest and ripping through my leather armor.

�Damn you, spiders!� I cried. �This is why I hate you!�

Another glowing pair of magical missiles struck the spider that had just bit me. A leg flew off and the thing dropped the floor, dead. I glanced behind me and saw smoke coming off Tweedle�s finger.

�Yes!� I said. �I saw it!�

�What�d you see?� Jakob said.

�Never mind. It�s okay.�

�I didn�t see nothing!�

I moved to the last spider and brought my battle axe down upon it, killing it. I followed up the kill by swinging my axe over my head once again.

We tended to our wounds and tried to clean them of the spider venom. Tweedle retrieved his torch while I got arrows out of the dead spiders.

�I feel like crap,� I said, slumping against the wall.

�This armor is so heavy,� Jakob said.

He suggested going somewhere to rest. I disagreed, noting that we�d just gotten there and we had to press on.

�Okay, have fun,� he said.

�What?� I said. �Just stay in the back.�

Tweedle was, meanwhile, examining the spiders. Jakob used his wand to heal those of us who were injured and Tweedle asked if there was any way to get the poison from the spiders.

�Well,� I said, �your typical spider has a venom sack. It�s located just inside the mouth at the top in the back. Giant spiders � regular spiders it�s different. They�re notoriously difficult to remove. You got a dagger?�

He didn�t. While Jakob talked about getting rest and using his magic to restore everyone to their full strength, I crossed the room and briefly looked down the corridor opposite the one we�d come in. A passageway continued on into the darkness, going gradually upward as far as I could see.

I went back to the room where we�d killed the kobolds and brought back one of the short spears, breaking the head off and making a small dagger. I was able to remove the venom sacks from two of the spiders. I told Tweedle that the poison would have to be injected somehow.

We discussed what to do. I pointed out that if the orcs were nighttime raiders, they would find our camp if we camped outside. If we camped in the mines, we�d have to deal with the kobolds. I didn�t think we�d explored enough to set up a base camp in the caves yet. Jakob was of the opinion that we should camp in the room where we�d killed the kobolds. Faldrial thought we should push through, as did I. I noted that if it looked like the odds would be too steep, we could fall back to the mines.

In the end, we decided to at least scout ahead. I went down the dark corridor as quietly as I could. It went to about 100 yards before the rail came to an end in a larger room, the rough walls being replaced with flagstone and cobble. A single mine cart sat at the end of the track near a ramp. A small pile of coal sat near the ramp, the rest of the floor caked with black powder. On either side were dumbwaiters with two more in front of me. To the far right was a set of steps going up. There were a lot of boot prints in the coal dust.

I went back and told them I�d found the shaft that led up to the keep but that someone had been there.

We discussed when we should strike and the general consensus was to wait until nightfall in the hopes that most of the orcs and their warlock would go out to raid the countryside. I suggested we move to the end of the corridor and examine the shaft and the basement. We listened up the stairwell but I couldn�t hear anything. Faldrial said he could hear voices and movement up above somewhere. He suggested he scout ahead.

�If only there was some way of making you invisible,� I muttered. Then I turned to the human. �Jakob, that�s what I meant to tell you. That I saw something earlier.�

�You did?� he replied.

�Yes.�

�When?�

�In battle. When I said �I saw it.� And you said �What?� And I said �I�ll tell you later.� I�m telling you now.�

�What was it?�

�It was the weirdest thing I�ve ever seen. I think the halfling actually cast a spell and I think I saw it.�

�What?�

�I saw smoke coming out of his finger.�

Tweedle asked what we�d do if we had invisibility and I told him that if Faldrial was invisible, he could scout around above and get numbers of the enemy and figure out where they were.

�Hey look, an orc,� Tweedle suddenly said, pointing.

Jakob and I looked and I heard someone speak some strange words. When I turned around, Faldrial was gone and Tweedle was smiling.

�Where�d Faldrial go?� he asked.

�Did he skulk away?� Jakob asked.

Tweedle told us he�d cast a spell on the half-elf to turn him invisible so he could scout above.

Faldrial returned a short time later to tell us that the cellars above had orc cooks. He noted that dumbwaiters went up into those cellars and the orcs above were tenderizing meat. He said it appeared that they were actually eating the dead from the caravans.

I suggested the possibility of using lamp oil as the poison but it was pointed out that they orcs would taste it � it would taste horrible. My suggestion of adding a lot of pepper wasn�t taken very well.

We ended up going back to the room where we�d killed the kobolds and resting long enough for the spell casters to regain their spells. We figured after we had done so, it would be late enough that the orcs might be out raiding.

* * *

Faldrial crept up the steps ahead of us. He signaled us to come forward and, once we were at the top of the steps, we peeked over. Five orc cooks were in the room.

We attacked.

Faldrial rushed into the room and ran through the nearest orc. I shot two arrows into the room, dispatching two more of them.

�If you surrender, you will not be killed,� I said quietly in orc.

Then Tweedle shot one of them with his sling.

�Warning shot,� I muttered in orc. �That was just a warning shot.�

Jakob charged into the room and smashed the skull of another of the orcs. Then he finished off the last orc.

We had killed all of them without making a racket.

Faldrial peeked through the double doors on one wall and told us there were six orcs and three duergar within. The other set of double doors on the same wall led to the same room. Another door had a plate that read �Armory.� Faldrial said it looked like it was filled with various goods that had probably come from the various attacks on caravans. Two doors led into a storage room filled with more goods. Sleeping in the corner was a bald dwarf with gray skin and a raggedy beard. We killed him handily. Other doors opened into a hallway.

We found our way to a garden, passing various bedrooms. Three small doors that led to garderobes. Archways opened into some kind of sitting room. We dispatched the orcs in the bedrooms and the orcs and duergar in the sitting room.

From there, we went up the main hallway to the large double doors at the top. They opened into a large room with a fireplace, desk, and chairs. Further into the room were a balcony and a chest. A wall split the room in two and stepping around the corner was another gray dwarf. He glared at us and readied his battle axe.

�He�s mine,� I said.

Two magic missiles flew between Jakob and Iand struck the duergar. We both looked over our shoulders but Tweedle just shrugged at us.

�Was that you?� Jakob asked him.

The halfling shrugged again.

�That�s weird,� Jakob said.

The duergar muttered something in dwarvish. It sounded like �Arise my followers.� Then he vanished.

�Flour! Flour!� I shouted.

Two nearby doors opened and two men came out. They were obviously dead and looked as if they�d started rotting.

�Do your job, cleric!� I said.

Faldrial moved around one of the things and it struck him a blow to the arm. The thief ran the thing through but it did not fall.

�Get the flour out!� I yelled.

I dropped my bow and pulled the axe from my back. I swung widely and missed the horrible creature nearest to me.

Then Jakob raised his holy symbol and flexed his muscles at the creatures. That was all he did. Just looked buff. It must have been too much for them, however, because the skin melted from their bones and the things literally fell apart.

Tweedle stepped forward, said a few words, and suddenly a colorful spray of light burst from his fingers and filled the air in front of him.

�What the hell was that?� Jakob asked.

�Nothing,� Tweedle said.

�Sleep,� I heard a dwarven voice say from the far end of the room.

�I�m not tired ... you douche,� I said.

Then I heard someone running across the room, probably around the wall that cut the room in two. Jakob flung a bag of flour into the area and it burst open on the balcony, pretty far from where the duergar should have been. However, it was apparently right on target. The flour coated the duergar and Tweedle cast another magic missile spell, the bolts striking him. He stumbled and then glared at us just before he grew to over eight feet tall. He swung at Faldrial, who stood nearby, but missed, and then backed up onto the balcony. The half-elf tried to stab the creature ineffectually.

With a roar, I rushed across the room and ran into the giant duergar, trying unsuccessfully to push him off the balcony. Jakob cast another spell and then Tweedle cast another magic missile at the creature. The bolts struck him in the face and he fell over the balcony to his death.

Looking for Players

Gaia — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 17:55:30 GMT

Hi out there, I am looking to try and run three different games based off the same system, which each one will have possible effects on the other games. One game to be played online and ran weekly the other two actually will be played in person (or at least one of those for sure will be live) every other week. Here is the deal, the game is Exalted 2nd edition if you have never played the game it is fine and you are welcome to join. One group which begins on 4/20/13 already has 4 players and I am currently looking for one more. This is the Exalted Game;"Unearthed" a circle of 5 solar heroes. The second game is a Dragon-Blooded exalted game of 5-7 Dynast Exalted who are sent from the realm (acting as outcaste from the south) to find and bring back magical artifacts from a "lost realm." This game will be played on the other Saturday (the first two games will be played bi-weekly). The third game is a Sidereal Exalted game in which the 5 Sidereal try to uncover the lost realm using the other two game's players (Solar and Dragon-blooded, from behind the scenes for the most part) for something dark is centered around this "Lost Realm" that if not discovered and "fixed" may well lead to the end of the entire known universe. The sidereal work with each other out of employment, each having the choice of which faction they support (and the other faction they'll sabotage). That is my goal, three games all connected for they are all going after the same thing although the reasons will not all match and things may not turn out as other would like. I will be trying to write a novel based on the actions of the players as well as the plots I introduce (don't know if White Wolf Publishing will let me publish it, but I will try). If you are interested in joining up please contact me @ julian_oliver2000@live.com . Also feel free to leave comments good or constructive criticism. Thanks in advance.:)

Shadowrun 4th Ed now on Saturdays! (28FEB2013)

tim.mineshine — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 17:15:29 GMT

Trying to start a Face To Face game in Nashville, TN that will be played on Saturdays. Looking for a 4 to 6 person Group. (Just lost 2 players).

My game setting is Seattle 2074, and will be more of a "gray hat" maybe "Light Gray Hat" .vs. everyone's out to back stab you SR game. Balance will be about 60% Role Playing and 40% Combat.

Beginners welcomed!:cool:

tim.mineshine@gmail.com <-OR-> 615/781-2701

D&D (3.5) game searching for 2 more players

JediRaver — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 06:12:53 GMT

D&D game every other Sunday. Looking for 1 to 2 more players. Game already has 4 players +1 GM.
Characters are at 8th level. Game time is between 11:00am and 4:00pm (sometimes later).

Game is run at my house zip is 98682

Let me know if intrested.

Thanks!

John

Looking for players.

Golden Age Superhero — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 02:03:25 GMT

Once upon a time I had a nice sized gaming group. We played nearly every Friday, sometimes Saturday and we played many games. We usually had a good time and I have pleasant memories. However the unslayable monster known as real life appeared and we failed our saving throws.

So now I have a bi-weekly game with only three players and a GM and I am looking more players and a more consistent game. I live in Cutler Bay, Florida and I am willing to play anything as long at it's fun and exciting. I want to get back into a long running campaign instead little one-shot and although I prefer simpler rules light games now I can do crunch as long as it doesn't mean clunk. We keep an open table when it comes to GMing, anyone who wants to step up can if they want to.

PM if interested or email me at solarblast300@gmail.com

3FEB2013 Shadowrun 4th Edition table top game starting (face to face)

tim.mineshine — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 21:33:40 GMT

I am looking for a few players in the Nashville, TN area that want to join a SR game that's just starting. I prefer 4 to 6 players and right now only have 2 players that are working on building (creating) their PC's.

Tim tim.mineshine@gmail.com or 615/781-2701

looking for players

cjubmavin — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 16:57:09 GMT

got a group wanting to start a shadowrun game at my house just need 1-2 more players live in spanaway

Birthright: Family Matters

Max_Writer — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 00:16:01 GMT

Saturday, January 5, 2013

(After playing the Birthright scenario �Family Matters� Friday (Jan. 4) with Jeff Smith, Stephen Turner, and Erik Huffine from 7 p.m. to 2 a.m.)

Shaemes Whitestaff was a young lad of 17 who had been content in his role as minor noble in the country of Aerenwe, at least until the current regent, Liliene Swordwraith, died in the early spring of the year 551 Michaeline. It was little less than a month later when it was determined that he was the next in line to the throne of the old woman and so moved his court and advisors to the castle of Caer Callin in the village of Calrie in the province of that same name to become king. He was slight of frame with auburn hair and had been sick as a child. He was only a novice with war, having spent most of the time studying to learn the laws of the land and how to administer a government.

Gaelyn Markland was a priest of Haelyn. He was an aged gentleman who had seen 41 years; his hair was mostly white with only a little red left over from his younger days. He was stark and hard around the edges. He had been an advisor to King Shaemes� father before his death the year before and now found himself in the court of the entirety of the kingdom, advising the boy king.

Ruinil hailed from the Erebannien mostly. He was tall and strapping. A true companion to his friends and liege, he dutifully served the boy king in whatever capacity he might need. He was a ranger of that forest and had been a yeoman for the family all of his life.

Only three of the seven provinces of Aerenwe were cultivated, being verdant grasslands that were farmed and fenced by the people. The other four provinces housed the Erebannien, a great forest where no army had ever marched. Those forest provinces were controlled by two separate mages: the High Mage Aelies and Rogr Aglondier of Ilien, a nearby land that also housed the Erebannien.

King Shaemes found himself ruling a court that was barely acceptable and that had 19 gold bars (each bar the equivalent of 2,000 gold pieces) in its treasury. He had a few units of troops scattered across the lands composed of infantry and archers, mostly in the more civilized northern provinces. When he took the throne, he decided he would leave the taxation of the people at its present light level.

It was less than a week after Shaemes had taken the throne that he called Gaelyn to his study.

�Gaelyn, I think that we need to learn more about the country,� he told the priest. �These people are still grieving the death of my great aunt. I think that we should travel through the cities and let them know that we share their grief but that we�re pushing forward to develop a stronger country, one seeking new trade, new allies.�

�Are you speaking of sending an emissary or are you talking of going yourself, My Liege?� the other man asked.

�I think I should go myself.�

�That would be an expensive trip.�

�We have a few bars left in the treasury, I�ve seen.�

�Whatever My Liege desires, of course, we will see it done. Perhaps we should send for Ruinil to scout out the road and secure us a safe path.�

�That would be wise. If he would begin a plan of travel. I know my guard will accompany us. Or should we just go with the three of us?�

�That would be a terrible idea, My Liege. It will certainly take more than my prowess at arms to protect you.�

�Maybe it might be best, at the moment, to go in disguise, so that we can truly see what the country is like: how they feel, how they act, find out their woes, their joys, as simple travelers.�

Gaelyn felt the situation suddenly slipping away from him.

�Simple travelers get robbed on the road more often than royal travelers, my lord,� he said. �I would highly advise against it, but if it is your will, it will be done.�

�I think that is what we should do,� King Shaemes said. �We shall go in disguise; you, Ruinil, and myself, as simple travelers looking for work elsewhere.�

He smiled, pleased with himself. He had been sheltered all of his life. Gaelyn frowned.

�Yes!� he went on. �That is what we should do. Go find Ruinil.�

�Yes,� Gaelyn said, leaving the chamber. Once he was alone, he whispered �Ruinil, I need you.�

He knew that the yeoman had special powers, handed down by his bloodline, that if anyone said his name, he would hear it and would hear what was being said about him.

* * *

King Shaemes met with a chamberlain named Daene who told him there were rumors that the country of Osoerde, on their northern border, had moved troops from some of the inner provinces to the province of Algael, which bordered the Aerenwe province of Dhoenel. The man also asked, when he learned of the king�s plans, for permission to surreptitiously send men ahead on the king�s route in order to act as a secret bodyguard while he traveled. He was also adamant that at least two bodyguards go with the king as well.

�I will have two with me,� King Shaemes said. �Gaelyn: he is older, but he is wise. And Ruinil.�

�What does Gaelyn say about this?� Daene asked hopefully.

�He is for it,�

�No, about having extra bodyguards.�

�I would not worry him about that. He has too many other things to deal with. Send for Richard, my wisest chamberlain, so that I might talk with him.�

�Very well,� the man said, defeated.

Richard, King Shaemes oldest and wisest chamberlain was at least 90 years old. It took him several minutes to cross the room where the king was holding court. When the king told him of his plan, he loudly protested. Of course, he did everything loudly, as he was losing his hearing and thought everyone around, therefore, must be losing theirs as well.

�No no no!� he said. �That�s out of the question! You must take a least a bodyguard! Plus you must have an entourage. Don�t forget that you must also carry the royal coat of arms at all times. Preferably you should have, also, several maids, as well as cooks and food tasters!�

He blustered on for several minutes.

�And of course you must not forget the washerwomen!� he said at last. �Things must be kept clean! A king is not to be seen with dirty robes! And, of course��

�I would like you to arrange all of that,� King Shaemes finally interrupted the man. �When we return from our general scouting mission, I will come back and I want to go with the entire retinue and meet with the leaders of Osoerde. So, if you could put this plan in to place ...�

�You want to talk to Jaison Raenech?� Richard said.

�When I return.�

�I understand he�s positioning his men on the border. They�re probably going to invade any day now!�

�We will see what is happening while we are out. First hand.�

�Very well. I don�t see as well as I used to, but I will arrange it My Liege.�

* * *

The chamberlain Daene found Gaelyn in his apartments and advised the man that at least a small retinue be with the king or he should at least arrange men already in the villages that that the king was planning on visiting.

�Yes, absolutely,� Gaelyn said. �Please, please make that happen.�

�But the king has advised against it,� Daene said.

�No need for the king to know.�

�Very good, sir. Thank you, sir. Can you at least keep him here at Caer Callin for a day or two so that I might make the arrangements?�

�I will do what I can.�

* * *

�I need a carriage,� King Shaemes said to Onwen, the Master of Carriages. �Not too fancy, yet workable. Throw some dirt on it, scar it up a little bit.�

�You mean this one, sire?� the man said, taking him to the royal carriage.

�No, that�s too fancy. I need something that looks like one our simple folk would use. But yet, I want it sturdy enough.�

�Simple folk don�t own carriages, sire.�

�Well, a wagon then.�

�A wagon?�

�Something like what you would carry hay in. Or maybe pigs.�

Onwen stared at him, his mouth open.

�What?� he finally said. �A wagon?�

�Yes,� the king said.

�But you � a wagon?�

�A wagon, yes. If you could have it ready.�

�How about a coach?�

�No, it needs to be something simple. We�ll be leaving tomorrow.�

�A wagon?�

King Shaemes then went to the seamstresses and tailors in the castle and asked them to make him some simple clothing and then dirty them up. This was also met with amazement.

* * *

Gaelyn soon heard about the king�s preparations from Daene. He groaned when he learned about the wagon and about the king talking to the castle�s tailor. There were many questions and rumors moving through the castle wondering exactly what the king was up to.

* * *

Ruinil was approached by Onwen as he was heading for Gaelyn�s chambers.

�Could you help me, sir ... your grace?� the dirty little man asked him. �The king wants a ... wagon?�

�I�m not �your grace,�� Ruinil said.

�Yes, your service ... sir. The king wants a wagon.�

�You may simply call me �my lord� if you wish.�

�Your Lord, my lord, excuse me. The king says he wants a wagon. I assume it�s to ride around in. He didn�t want the carriage. I don�t know what to do. I could get him a wagon, but��

�By the Gods, you make him a wagon!�

�Make?�

�Yes. Construct. As in use your hands.�

�Oh dear.�

�Or go purchase one.�

�Yes sir.�

�I have pressing business.�

�I�m sorry sir. I�m sorry.�

The little man groveled away.

Ruinil went to Gaelyn�s chambers and knocked on the door.

�Come,� a voice called from within.

Gaelyn looked harried and harassed.

�Gaelyn, you called for me?� the yeoman asked.

�Thank the Gods,� Gaelyn said. �We must meet with His Highness and ... calm him down, I think. He has it in his head that we, the three of us, mind you, are to travel the countryside, gauging the reaction of the people, to his ascension to the throne.�

�That sounds good,� Ruinil said. �A king should know his land.�

�He wants to be in disguise. Just the three of us.�

�All right.�

�No guards.�

�I can make that happen.�

Gaelyn stared at the man.

�I expected more support from your side of the court on this actually,� he said. �At the very least, meet with him with me so that we may at least convince him not to run around speaking with all of the servants, asking them to do all these things. He�s going to give the wrong impression.�

�Very well,� Ruinil said.

�And ... do you have any red root? I have a splitting headache.�

�I could call one of the meisters, if you need.�

�No no no. Perhaps after we meet with ... there�s no point in curing a headache just to gain another one.�

* * *

King Shaemes had found the armory and spoken to Vaesil, the armorer. He was salt of the earth and only referred to the king as �Your Highness� when he remembered. He was very helpful, however. When Shaemes first arrived, the man had shown him several guilt swords and wonderfully engraved crossbows. However, when the king had told him he had wanted the same kinds of weapons the guards used, he grinned, pleased.

�Really?� he said. �Come over here.�

He showed the king several broad swords and crossbows that were simple yet effective in design, all of them well oiled and cleaned. The two men were looking over several weapons that were lying on a table when Gaelyn and Ruinil found them. Vaesil was holding a crossbow in one hand and an apple in the other.

�Are you sure you don�t really want me to show how this really works?� the man said.

�I understand these,� King Shaemes said, taking the crossbow and loading it.

�Oh!� Vaesil said. �Then I�ll stand over there with the apple on my head!�

�I�m not that good.�

�My Liege!� Gaelyn said with a loud cough. �Excuse me. Master Vaesil, is it? Please excuse us for a moment.�

�Yes, my lord,� Vaesil said. �Yes, my lord.�

He bowed and left the room.

�So, has Gaelyn told you about our adventure?� King Shaemes asked Ruinil.

�Yes, he has indeed, My Liege,� the man replied.

�What say you? Do you think it is as good an idea as I?�

�My Liege, I do think it is a wise decision for a king to know his land.�

�Excellent! Thank you!�

�However, My Liege, that is exactly why you have men such as me.�

�That�s why you�re going with us.�

�I would be happy to ride the land for you.�

�And I will go with you.�

�Surely there are things here at the castle that are more pressing than to ride about the land.�

�The most important part of being king is knowing the people. I have been hidden away, studying, for the last 12 years. It is time that I get out and meet these people.�

�But there are concerns for your safety, My Liege,� Gaelyn said. �We must make that paramount.�

�That is why I have you,� King Shaemes said. �I think more attention would be caused if we had guards, wagons, and the like.�

�Yes, but it would be the right kind of attention.�

�I do not know.�

�I think that mere numbers and the royal seal and the banner would dissuade any bandits or fell-minded men from attempting anything to harm your safety, My Liege.�

�My fear is not that they would cause us harm, but that while we are out, they would attack the castle.�

�This is a strong castle, My Liege.�

�Especially if our neighbors to the north are already moving troops in.�

�Yes. That is another matter that I wanted to bring up for discussion, My Liege. It�s not exactly the best time for taking a leisurely stroll through your lands. There is much to consider to the northern border.�

�That�s why I want to go see it firsthand.�

�Then perhaps we should assemble the proper entourage and make haste to the border.�

�Chamberlain Richard is doing that now, so that when we return��

�Richard?�

�He�s a wise man, for his age.�

�My Liege, whereas a smaller number may travel more freely, perhaps in some ways even quicker,� Ruinil said, �still you must understand that our chief concern is your safety.�

�I do understand that,� King Shaemes said. �I do appreciate that.�

�Perhaps if you want us to travel in disguise, at least take a bodyguard and we can travel as a caravan, if this is a decision that you are insistent upon making.�

�I have a wagon prepared. I have clothes prepared for us so that we can go unnoticed and travel freely.�

�That brings up another point, Your Highness,� Gaelyn said. �These types of things, if you want them to remain secret, they should be kept secret. We shall summon the proper servants and discuss these options with them but please try to refrain from going around the castle grounds and talking out in the open to all these servants and such about this. It will do nothing but give the wrong impression of you, Your Highness.�

�I understand,� King Shaemes said. �But it is too late.�

�Well, it is too late for what has been done, but it is not too late to avert future issues, Your Highness. If you have other needs or concerns, discuss it with me. I will see it done.�

�I think, right now, the only thing lacking would be foodstuffs. I was on my way to the kitchens.�

�I will take care of it, Your Highness.�

�Then we should be ready to go by tomorrow.�

�We might need at least another day�s preparation before we can leave.�

�Indeed,� Ruinil said. �At least.�

�What have I missed?� King Shaemes asked.

�Well, there are many considerations,� Gaelyn said. �We have to make sure that the government is in order before we walk away from the castle. There�s etiquette, procedure, protocol involved in this kind of thing, Your Highness. We can�t simply abandon all of the traditions of this great country.�

�I understand that and I understand the rule of law of the land and who�s in charge when I�m absent, who has the power.�

�Who is in charge when you�re absent?� Ruinil asked.

�That would be Aeric, the seneschal,� King Shaemes said. �He will wear the chain and mantle of command when I am absent.�

�Is that a sound choice, My Liege?� Gaelyn asked.

�He ran while the queen was sick.�

�He did run thing in the interim between the death of the queen and your ascension, but if the men massing on the border is any indication of his rule��

�I don�t think he ordered them to go anywhere.�

�No, My Liege. I mean, his foreign policy may have caused a rift, which has prompted the massing of soldiers on our borders.�

�Your Highness, I am taken to mind suddenly that the swords on the border are of much more concern,� Ruinil said. �This Raenech is a cruel and hard man. I wouldn�t put it past him to attack the castle, or at least attack one of your provinces.�

�After he�s raped and pillaged his way here,� Gaelyn added.

�Were you to be caught out in the field by a number of soldiers, it would be catastrophic.�

�It would put a damper on things,� King Shaemes said.

�It would,� Ruinil replied. �At least a damper.�

�But, as king, I�ve decided that we will travel. I will grant you your day before we leave.�

�Then will you also grant us more than just us? At least your guard?�

�I have my spies too and I understand that preparations are being made to place spies ahead of us as we travel.�

�Who would do such a thing?� Gaelyn blustered.

�You are not the only ones with the ears,� King Shaemes went on. �We will take precautions. We will carry with us pigeons to send word back in case we need help.�

Gaelyn put his hand to the bridge of his nose and groaned lightly. The headache was getting worse.

�In all fairness, Your Highness, it seems like the best precaution would be, perhaps, to send someone else,� Ruinil said, �but if you are want to do this, then we are your men.�

�And I thank you for that,� King Shaemes said.

�Aye, Your Highness, we will see it done,� Gaelyn said.

�Shall I prepare animals then?� Ruinil said.

�Please,� King Shaemes said. �We will be riding in wagons.�

* * *

Ruinil, noting to himself that the king had not actually said they were not to bring his bodyguard along, spoke to the sergeant of the royal bodyguard, telling him of the king�s plan for the day after the next, and that the guard would accompany them, albeit dressed as commoners and with only a few simple weapons. The sergeant was happy to comply.

�We�ll be travelling as a simple caravan,� Ruinil told the man.

�Discrete,� the sergeant said, sounding out the word carefully.

�Yes. Quite.�

He ordered the man to have another wagon or perhaps carts readied, noting that the men would be riding on them as travelers or merchants. The sergeant told him he would arrange it. Ruinil went to arrange for the horses for the journey.

* * *

King Shaemes met with a young but white-haired mage that afternoon. Trevor Ciesen offered his services to the crown as a true blooded mage. He noted that there was no official mage yet in the court and, for his services, asked for control over the province of Dhoenel or Calrie or four gold bars.

�Master Ciesen, I�ve just taken over as king,� he told the wizard. �Feeling where we are as a country, financially, at this time I don�t think that I can afford to pay you what you�re asking, even though I am sure that it is well worth the money. I would ask that, for two gold bars for your services, until we are in a better position.�

�I am still willing to help you without the payment,� the mage said quietly. �Out of loyalty to the king. If you need my services, please call upon me.�

He told the king that if a man was sent to the village of Ruin�s Keep near the Erebannien in the province of Calrie, he would come.

�Before you leave, if you could introduce yourself to Gaelyn, my advisor,� King Shaemes said, snapping a finger and pointing to a nearby page, who ran out of the room.

�Yes, Your Highness,� the mage said.

Gaelyn soon arrived and met the man.

�One of the wood-dwelling folk, eh?� Gaelyn said.

�Uh ... no, My Lord,� Trevor said quietly.

�Oh, you live here?�

�Yes, My Lord. In this province.�

�My apologies then.�

�I was told to introduce myself to you as I will be potentially coming to your assistance, if you have need of me.�

�What assistance could you provide?�

�Oh, many powerful spells, My Lord.�

�Such as?�

�Demagogue and the like. You do know what that is, do you not?�

Gaelyn did. He knew it was a powerful spell that could affect an entire province, playing upon the fears and loyalty of the province towards its ruler to increase or lower the loyalty of the people therein, depending on how the mage cast the spell.

�Well, if we have need of your services, I�m sure we will summon you,� he said.

�Very good, My Lord,� the mage said.

* * *

That same day, King Shaemes received an invitation. It read:

The honor of your presence is requested at River Hall on Haelyn�s Festival in this year
551 Michaeline. With the marriage of our children, Leira Bellaen and Aeric Pelien,
we also celebrate the joining of our two houses. We could think of no better gift than
your blessing.

The festival was a little more than two weeks away. The wedding itself was a weeklong event. It would still leave time for his own travel across the land.

King Shaemes went to the castle�s library and eventually found out who the Peliens and the Bellaens were. The Peliens were a powerful family within the province of Dhoenel while the Bellaens were a powerful family in the province of Halried. The two families had been feuding for hundreds of years and the marriage appeared to be a peace accord between them after far too long.

* * *

The tour of the countryside, just the three of them, was uneventful.

When they had arrived at the stables, two days later, they had found all 24 of King Shaemes� private bodyguard there, waiting for them on several carts. They were all dressed as commoners though they were all well-armed. One of them was dressed in fine clothing with many ruffles.

�I�m a merchant!� that soldier said proudly.

�Shut up, Howerd!� the sergeant snapped at the man.

King Shaemes rolled his eyes.

When they arrived at towns, people were lined up along the streets as if they were there for a parade, or to see the king. Many of them had small flags of Aerenwe, but at the same time, none of them looked at the king or his party of �merchants.�

�Is that the king?� one little boy called but his mother quickly hushed him.

Only the best food was available at the inns that they stopped at, but when King Shaemes asked if they were expecting him, they denied it. One inn was even called The King�s Head that had a painting of Shaemes� face both over the front door and within, both of them very accurate. The innkeeper refused to believe, allegedly, that Shaemes was the king, all the time looking towards Gaelyn.

Gaelyn was adamant that he had nothing to do with it.

Word had gotten out.

* * *

Some days after that, they arrived, this time along with a proper retinue, at River Hall, around noontime.

They rounded one final bend, and the walls of a grand estate stretched out before them. It sat near one Aerenwe�s minor rivers � the creek�s babbling filling the air as they drew new.

River Hall, a three-story, white marble edifice, sprawled across its considerable grounds, surrounded by high walls that protected it from poachers. However, the manor looked obviously indefensible against siege. The hall itself seemed well fortified, which one might expect, considering the frequent incidents of banditry in the province they had heard of.

To one side of manor lay a garden with statuary placed artfully among the greenery and blossoms. It looked as though a labyrinth hid deeper in the garden, though the high hedge walls concealed much of the area.

The drive leading to the manor was filled with carriages and mounts; grooms rushed hither and yon, leading horses to the huge stables off to the other side of the house. As they approached, a team of grooms rushed up, bowed, and helped them dismount. Once they�d unloaded their possessions, they led their horses away.

A young man with long blonde hair and a mustache, assuredly not older than his early twenties, stepped forward to greet them. He sketched barely a bow and said, �My Lords and Ladies, I welcome you to River Hall and bid you a good stay. I am Hadrien Pelien, second son of the baron, and I am here to see to your needs.�

�Very good,� King Shaemes said.

Hadrien led them into the house and showed them to their quarters. He offered to guide them around River Hall�s grounds if they wished and noted that there was a luncheon in the courtyard. He also told them a chamberlain named Stiele could give them a list of all the events if they so desired. He noted that either he or the chamberlain could show them around the grounds if they so desired.

At the luncheon, they all met the immediate members of both families.

Baron Brosen Pelien was the father of the groom. A large man with long blonde hair and a long mustache, expertly waxed, he was glad to meet the king. He seemed a bit vain and loved to show off the manor. Jonathan Pelien was the baron�s brother and seemed friendly enough, though he chose his words carefully whenever he spoke. Aeric Pelien, the groom, was a tall young man with long, dark hair and a handsome face. He seemed friendly enough but when one spoke to him, his simplicity shown through. Buess Pelien was the youngest of the baron�s three sons, also dark-haired, and seemed very eager to please and helpful. Finally, Hadrien Pelien, who they had already met, was to inherit the province from his father someday. He did not like the Bellaens at all and was against the wedding.

They also met the bride�s family over the course of the next few days. Baroness Laera Bellaen was the family�s matriarch and mother of the bride. She was shrewish, shrewd, and sharp with a harsh opinion of the Pelien family. Her husband, third of the men she�d married, had a mass of black hair on top of his head and was very friendly, though never seen without a drink in his hand. He never stood when he could sit and never sat when he could lie down. He seemed to most love the comforts inherit with his nobility. Leira Bellaen was exceptionally beautiful with a fragile frame and lovely blonde hair. She was bright, sparkling, and innocent, and seemed very sweet and kind. Her mother and sister hovered nearby, making sure they were never far from the woman. At one point, when Gaelyn intercepted Laera while her daughter spoke again to the king, she frowned at him.

�I do not have time to speak to god-beggars right now, My Liege,� she said to him.

�I am not a god-beggar,� he replied. �I�m advisor to the king himself.�

�I care not,� she replied, moving away from the man.

Leira�s brother, Ladie Bellaen, actually hit it off with Ruinil. The man had long, red hair and proved to be exceptionally quick-witted and humorous, with jokes that were clever and original. He was easy to talk to and bright. Even his puns were clever and made one think. He didn�t really care for the marriage, but it was merely because he didn�t like the Peliens and thought they would corrupt his sister. He was of the opinion that what would happen, would happen, however. He also had numerous jokes about the Peliens. Though he laughed with him, Ruinil also advised Ladie to watch his tongue, as soon the Peliens would be members of his family. He was unhappy with the sound of that, but agreed that the man was correct.

Finally, Jarri Bellaen was the youngest daughter in the family. Her face was already growing sharp and she was spiteful. Once, when Gaelyn had actually managed to intercept the baroness by �inadvertently� standing on her dress and seemingly not having the intelligence to raise the correct foot quickly, the king had almost gotten Leira to privacy, only to find another woman slipping her arm around his on the side opposite of Leira. He found Jarri there and she began talking about everything and nothing until Leira was called away. Between the mother and daughter, no one could monopolize the bride.

At least 200 of the nobility were present at the wedding. Additionally, there were numerous servants and the like. Many of the guests were trying to get time with the king of his advisors. One man approached Gaelyn asking him to talk to the king about lowering taxes for the rich. King Shaemes himself was approached about raising trade tariffs to dissuade trade from other countries and promote the local craftsmen of Aerenwe. There was also a lot of question as to whether or not war with Osoerde was inevitable. Several ladies approached King Shaemes; all of them seemed to think that their daughter would make a wonderful match for the king.

King Shaemes found Hadrien and asked him, based on the troop placement of Osoerde, what he had done to protect the borders. The man told him that the archery unit in the province was arrayed along the border. He noted that his father was not a leader of men, however. King Shaemes suggested that Hadrien begin training men in the province to defend themselves. Hadrien assured him that he would see to it.

The king also made inquires of both Hadrien and Ladie as to why they were against the wedding. Neither man could say more than that he did not approve of the other family, Hadrien more so than Ladie. Ladie seemed more annoyed by the Peliens than truly hateful of them.

The inquiries and requests to the king and his advisors continued throughout their stay.

The king also talked to both Leira and Aeric in private, individually. He learned that the two seemed to actually be in love. She said she did not know how wonderful a man could be until she met him. He, in turn, could not stop talking about her. Though he was not eloquent, he seemed sincere. He also met both Laera and Michael Bellaen and with Brosen Pelien. Laera, who really controlled the Bellaens, seemed sincere in the marriage ending the age-old feud that was damaging her family. Though she hated the Peliens, the feud was more damaging that the marriage would be. Michael seemed more concerned with food and drink than with the marriage or the wedding. Baron Brosen Pelien also very badly wanted to see the feud over and done with.

The true festivities began on the fifth day of their stay and ran through the sixth day. There were tests of strength with a joust, as well as foot lists, archery contests, and foot races. Ruinil participated in the archer contest and actually won the platinum trophy, valued at 200 gold coins. Gaelyn won the foot list.

King Shaemes took his two advisors aside.

�I appreciate your skills, your prowess,� he said to them, �but we are at a party for these people.�

�Of course, My Liege,� Gaelyn said.

�It would be nice if you would donate those trophies to a local charity or church.�

�Of course.�

�My Liege, in all fairness, you are the local charity,� Ruinil said.

�Well, if you could donate it to the church, I would appreciate it,� King Shaemes said.

When the king wasn�t looking, the two men simply exchanged their trophies.

There were also sumptuous banquets on both days. The number of people trying to get the king�s ear continued. The wording was more casually introduced and worked more carefully into the conversation by then. Several guests remarked upon the obviously strained friendship between the two families. Many of them expressed their doubts that the marriage would last.

At one point during the last banquet before the wedding day, King Shaemes stood behind the bride and groom, a hand on each of their shoulders.

�Lords and ladies, gentlemen, goodwives, before us we have a pair that are truly in love, and I ask you to support them,� he said. �Cease any conversation of doubt. Be supportive of this joining of families because we are here to rebuild this country, to see it grow. Just as they will see their family grow, this country must grow with them. New trade, new prosperity. So, we�ll just drink a toast to the new family and offer them well-wishes and good fortune.�

�Well spoken, My Liege!� Gaelyn called out.

�I offer as a gift to the newlywed couple to come and spend time with me in Caer Callin,� the king went on. �As a support of the union and the peace that they will provide.�

There was applause and people raised their glasses. King Shaemes noticed that Hadrien did not raise his glass. Shaemes picked up his glass and then tilted it towards Hadrien, staring across the room at the man. He very slowly raised his glass and barely tipped it to his lips. Then Shaemes drank. Hadrien left the banquet soon after.

* * *

On the night before the wedding day, King Shaemes awoke to cries of �Assassin! Assassin!� from inside his room. The page who slept at the foot of his bed was stumbling to his feet as the armed guard who stood watch over the king rushed a man who had come from a secret panel in the wall across the room. The man was thin and wore a dark mask that covered his face. He fled into the secret passageway.

�After him!� King Shaemes yelled.

The guard grabbed a lit taper and ran into the passage. Someone was trying to break down the door and King Shaemes ordered his page to open it. Two other guards rushed into the room as Shaemes picked up his sword. They looked around the room and one of them went to the secret door.

* * *

Ruinil woke up to the sounds of shouts and cries of �Assassin!� He grabbed his short sword and rushed to the king�s room to find him standing by his bed, sword in hand. A guard stood near a black secret passage in the wall while another stood near the king.

�My Liege!� he said. �Are you all right?�

�I�m fine,� King Shaemes said. �Someone came through this doorway.�

�Keep an eye on him!� Ruinil said, pointing to the king.

He rushed to the passageway.

�Boeric went after him!� the guard in the passageway said. �But I haven�t seen him!�

�How long did he go?� Ruinil said. �Just now?�

�Moments ago, My Lord.�

�Watch the king!�

Ruinil grabbed a taper and headed into the darkness of the passageway. There were numerous branching passages and doors along the walls everywhere.

�Boeric!� he hissed.

He only went a little ways before he turned around and headed back to the king�s chamber. He told the guards to watch the king and then told Shaemes that he was going to wake Gaelyn and head into the passages. He had Gaelyn woken and told the man there had been an attempt on the king. After Ruinil explained what he�d found, Gaelyn sent for torches and Ruinil went to get his leather armor. Gaelyn took his shield and the torches to the king�s room, meeting Ruinil there.

They sent for more of the king�s bodyguards and then headed back into the secret passages, using a red candle to mark the way. The passages were remarkably clean though dark. Gaelyn thought that whoever it had been must have known the passages well to navigate them. Ruinil agreed and both figured it was someone from the Pelien family or their servants.

Other guests, woken by the cries and the commotion, had begun to arrive and question what was going on. The king ordered that they be told nothing.

* * *

After half an hour, Gaelyn and Ruinil found Boeric, who had lost the assassin and then gotten himself lost in the passageways. The guard noted that he had not opened any doors for fear of being accused of being an assassin himself. He apologized profusely. They told him to follow the red wax marks back to the king�s chambers.

* * *

King Shaemes went out to the courtyard to see what lights might be on in the castle. None were aside from those in the area where the disturbance had taken place. Baron Brosen found him there and asked what had happened.

�It seems as though an assassin has breached your walls and entered my room,� King Shaemes said.

�My Gods!� Brosen said snapping his fingers at his guard. �We�ll spare no expense to find this villain.�

�My guards are even now traveling through your secret passageways, looking.�

�Oh ... oh dear.�

�If you could get some of your men to search, I would appreciate it.�

�Yes! Discretely. We will search discretely.�

�Please check on Baroness Bellaen and make sure her family is in good health.�

Brosen scowled but complied.

Soon, lights were lit all over the manor.

King Shaemes went to the well, drew water, and offered some to the guards. They were grateful to drink from the bucket and the two waited with him.

�In just a few moments I�m sure that Gaelyn and Ruinil will come out and reprimand me for leaving my room,� he said conversationally. �But that�s one of the perks, isn�t it?�

The mean seemed uncomfortable but one replied with a careful �yes.�

There was more uncomfortable silence.

�You know, Your Highness, I was wantin� to ask you something,� the short guard suddenly piped up. �My mum, she always wondered �How does one become a highness?��

�The luck of the draw, I would imagine,� King Shaemes said.

�Oh oh oh. Then my Uncle Sparc, he should be a highness. He�s very lucky.�

He laughed.

�Shut up, Nobby!� the other one hissed at him.

�Sorry, Sire, sorry,� Nobby said.

�What say we find the kitchen and see if there�s any food available?� King Shaemes said.

�Ooh,� Nobby replied.

They soon found the kitchen where there was cold meat, cheese, and bread. Just as they had all settled down at the table to eat, a hue rose from the part of the castle that he realized the Bellaens were quartered in. King Shaemes dropped his turkey leg, leapt up, and ran out of the room. Nobby grabbed the turkey leg as the guards ran after him.

* * *

Still somewhat lost in the secret passages, Gaelyn and Ruinil heard a wailing cry not far off. The found the door nearby where the cry was coming from and Ruinil flung it open.

The room was well-lit. A couple of men in armor wore the coat of arms of the Bellaens. Laera Bellaen was crouched on the bed, cradling the body of Leira Bellaen. The daughter�s throat had been slit and blood covered the bed. Duchess Laera was shrieking and wailing. Nearby, Jarri knelt on the floor, banging her head on the wood and wailing. Michael stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open. Ladie stood just outside the doorway, his shoulders shaking and he cried silently to himself.

As she wailed, Laera screamed for the blood of the Peliens incoherently, declaring that they must pay for the murder they had committed upon their daughter. She cursed and gnashed her teeth.

The two guards looked towards Ruinil and raised swords in his direction, pointing at the two men.

�By the Gods, men, what happened here?� Gaelyn said.

�Is this the assassin?� one of the guards cried.

�No!� Gaelyn said.

�No, we�re not bloody assassins!� Ruinil said.

�We�re the king�s men! Put down your sword.�

�They killed her!� Laera shrieked. �The Peliens killed her! They killed my daughter! You tell the king that he has to do something about that! You tell him right now!�

�Stop your wailing, woman!� Gaelyn said.

�You go to hell, you fool!�

�What happened here?�

Ruinil glared at one of the guards, who had lowered their swords. The ranger sheathed his sword and pointed at Jarri.

�Take care of her,� he said. �Get her out of here.�

The guard looked towards the duchess, who continued to scream at Gaelyn of justice, beheadings, and death to the Peliens. Ruinil grabbed the man by his arm.

�We are trying to bring peace here, sir,� he growled. �Take that girl out and calm her down.�

The guard moved to the girl and lifted her from the floor.

King Shaemes arrived at the doorway, passing through those who were clustered outside. He called for Gaelyn who left the horrible abattoir behind. The advisor told the king that the young bride had been assassinated.

�We must search the house!� Ladie said. �We find out who did this horrible thing!�

�We will see to it,� Gaelyn said.

He saw Baron Brosen coming down the hallway in their direction and he moved to intercept the man. He quickly told him what happened and ordered his men to search the castle and the ground. Gaelyn advised that the Baron and his family stay well away from the Bellaens for the time being. Baron Brosen agreed wholeheartedly and left to lead a search of his own.

Ruinil, meanwhile, looked back into the secret passage for blood. He found none. He guessed that the girl�s throat had been slit straight across the windpipe, meaning there would be a lot of blood in the room and the bed, but not necessarily blood dripping off the assassin.

King Shaemes entered the room, the two guards close behind him. The little one, still holding the turkey leg, offered it to the king and then hid it behind his back.

�I�ll hold it for you, Sire!� he hissed.

King Shaemes approached Laera, who remained hysterical. He began to speak but she started screaming at him that he had to find the murderer that had killed her daughter. He took one of her bloody hands and assured her that they would find the murderer. He squeezed her hands past the point of being painful, assuring her quietly that they would find the murderer. He also suggested that she and their family go to the chapel and pray. She jerked her hands free, still wailing and crying over the body of her daughter.

He turned to Michael.

�It�s now time for you to be the strong one in your family,� he said to the man.

Michael�s eyes opened wide in terror.

�Give her your drink,� the king went on. �It�s not time for you to drink, now. She needs it.�

* * *

The search only took a half hour before a cry went up that the assassin had been found. In a wine cellar was found a bloodstained servant. His name was Terem and he was the personal servant of Jonathan Pelien. The man was dragged to the courtyard by guards.

King Shaemes and Gaelyn headed for the courtyard.

�No one talks to him but one of us,� King Shaemes told the other man.

�Yes, My Liege,� Gaelyn said. �Guards!�

He pointed at the king and then headed towards the courtyard at speed, the king following at a more leisurely pace.

Gaelyn found that two Pelien guards had Terem by the arms. Other guards were in the courtyard, as well as numerous wedding guests. Jonathan and Hadrien Pelien were also in the courtyard and the mutters of accusations noting that Terem was Jonathan�s personal servant were starting to spread. Jonathan protested his innocence loudly, as did his servant. Gaelyn pushed through the crowd. He put one hand on the servant.

�In the name of the king and at his command, I take this man into custody!� he shouted.

Two Bellaen guards grabbed Jonathan and the Pelien guards put their hands on their swords.

�Stay your hands!� Gaelyn screamed as other guests backed away.

He pointed at Jonathan.

�You two! Take him! Bring him with us!� he shouted at two of the king�s guards who stood nearby.

The two men moved towards Jonathan and took him into custody.

�He�s obviously the murderer,� one of the Bellaen guards said. �He obviously made his servant do it!�

�I represent the king!� one of the bodyguards said, slapping himself in the chest. �I represent the king!�

They finally handed over Jonathan just as the king arrived.

King Shaemes climbed onto the edge of the well.

�My Liege!� Gaelyn blustered.

�Lords and Ladies! Gentlemen!� the King called out. �Unfortunately, the festivities have come to an end. It is time for those of you not connected to the family to collect your belongings and leave.�

�Your Highness, in the middle of the night?� someone called.

�By the time you gather your belongings, it will be daylight.�

�Yes sir!�

�Sir?� Gaelyn said.

But the questioner had turned and walked away.

King Shaemes yelled for Brosen, who appeared within moments.

�I need a room that is not connected by one of your hallways,� he told the man.

Brosen thought for what felt like a long time.

�The stables, sir,� he finally said.

�What?� Gaelyn said.

�I cannot help how the castle was crafted, My Lord,� Brosen said.

�Then that is where we go,� King Shaemes said. �Take him to the stables. Put each of them in a separate stall. Find Hadrien as well.�

As they parted, a shriek rose from the far side of the courtyard. Baroness Laera strode across the ground shrieking �Where is he!?! Where is the murderer!?!� There was still blood on her hands and on her nightshirt. Michael trailed behind her, urging her to calm down.

�You shut up!� she shrieked at the man.

�It would be in your best interest to take your mistress back to the chapel,� King Shaemes said to the Bellaen guards standing nearby.

The two men hesitated and then headed for the woman. They intercepted her and there was a hushed conversation even as Gaelyn got to the stables with his two prisoners. King Shaemes looked around for Ruinil but saw no sign of the man.

�Where is Ruinil?� he asked.

* * *

Gaelyn, in the stables, heard the king call for Ruinil.

�Ruinil, we need you in the stables,� he said quietly.

* * *

Still searching the secret passages, Ruinil heard his name spoken by Gaelyn�s voice and that he was needed in the stables. He ordered his men to continue the search and then began to make all due haste to find himself out of the twisted network of corridors. He soon arrived in the courtyard and saw the king there.

�Send your fastest messenger to the village of Ruin�s Keep and tell Trevor to come here post-haste,� King Shaemes ordered.

�You require a mage, My Liege?� Ruinil asked.

�In this case, it would not hurt.�

�I�m not sure that I trust sorcery, Sire, but I will do as you command.�

* * *

Both of the men being held in the stables protested their innocence to Gaelyn. Terem also claimed that someone had forced him to kill.

�Both of you keep your tongues behind your teeth,� Gaelyn said. �I�m not the one you need to convince. We will wait here for the king.�

Jonathan seemed affronted while Terem seemed cowed by the command. Gaelyn put them in separate stalls.

King Shaemes entered the stables. He ordered the prisoners to be made comfortable but not be allowed to speak. As the guards went to do so, a gasping and a grunting came from one of the stalls. One of the guards backed out of the stall, horrified.

Terem lay on the floor of the stall, blood pouring from his mouth, his nose, and his eyes. He struggled on the ground.

�Escort the king out!� Gaelyn said.

The man on the floor died within moments.

�I told him he wasn�t to speak until the king told him to�� the guard said.

�Escort the king out!� Gaelyn said again.

The man quickly escorted King Shaemes out of the stables. On the way, the shaken guard told him he had told the man not to speak but Terem had said he knew who had manipulated him. He was about to say the name but then he started spewing blood everywhere. The king asked if he had been attacked but the man said it had looked more like magic of some awful sort.

* * *

Gaelyn looked over the body but could not determine what had killed the man. Nothing natural had done it and he guessed that it was some kind of terrible magic.

King Shaemes reentered the stables, Ruinil close behind him, and walked over to stall that housed Jonathan.

�Well, I hope nothing like that happens to you,� he said to the man.

�What happened?� Jonathan said.

�Your servant is dead.�

�What happened?�

�We do not know. He is dead.�

�How?�

�We do not know. He just started to bleed from his mouth, his nose, his eyes.�

�Why?�

�We do not know.�

Jonathan thought of that.

�He was a faithful servant,� he finally said.

�So, what happened?� King Shaemes asked.

�What do you mean?�

�Why did he break into my room?�

�I don�t know, My Liege. I have no idea. Unless it was to frame me for some reason.�

�Who would want to do that?�

�I could not tell you. I was asleep in my bed. I had not seen Terem since he helped prepare me for bed earlier this evening.�

�Would your servant have been familiar with the passageways?�

�Oh yes. Some of the servants here are.�

�We need to prepare Leira�s body and have their family leave before we can figure out what is going on. I don�t think it�s good for them to stay. If I were you, I would not go near them.�

�I will not.�

�But do not leave.�

�May I leave the stables?�

�Yes, but do not leave the grounds.�

�I will not.�

Jonathan left the stables.

�What happened?� Ruinil asked Gaelyn.

�The servant is dead,� the priest told him. �The assassin is dead.�

�What?�

He went over to the stall.

�By the Gods!� he said. �Did the guards do this to him?�

�No, the guards didn�t touch him,� Gaelyn replied. �It was either poison or magic. Or a curse of some sort.�

Ruinil spit on the floor.

�Sorcery?� he said.

�Yes, most likely,� Gaelyn replied.

Ruinil expressed his opinion that ordering everyone to leave was a bad idea. They also discussed what magic might have been used to cause Terem to kill against his will.

* * *

Within two hours, the Bellaens had packed up their wagons and carriages and were ready to leave. They stopped only long enough in the courtyard to register a formal complaint with the king. When he said that he would have his advisor Gaelyn bless the body before they went, he was politely rebuffed. He expressed his sincerest regret that it had happened. Michael thanked the king.

The servants of the family were barely restrained from attacking each other and a few of the more hotheaded ones were arranging duels. The king noted that if there was any attack made, all involved would die. There was muttered and mumbling about that.

Ruinil took the king aside as the family prepared to leave.

�I do not think it wise to let anyone leave the castle at this time,� he said quietly to the king. �I know that there is grief. I know that there is murder, but there may be an assassin in our midst. If we allow him to leave, then we may never discover who he is.�

He looked at the family, stepping onto their carriage.

�Or she,� he said.

�I think any assassin could leave at any time,� King Shaemes said. �I�m more concerned about bloodshed that might be caused by the continued closeness of the families.�

Gaelyn noted that the families could be kept separated but also urged him to keep everyone in the castle. He thought they should keep everyone there until they could deduce what had happened.

King Shaemes returned to the baroness.

�As much as I hate to do this, I must ask you to stay,� he said to her.

�There will be bloodshed if we stay,� she said.

�No, there will not be.�

�There will be. I cannot retrain every servant or watch them at all times.�

�You will watch your tongue, woman, when you speak�� Gaelyn said.

�You go to hell!� the duchess shrieked at the man.

�Shut your mouth!� Gaelyn said, casting a command spell.

The woman�s mouth clamped shut. She gasped and then went for his eyes with her fingernails. Guards intervened but other Bellaens started to shout imprecations. Someone screamed as two servants fell into fighting, one stabbing the other with a dagger. The still standing servant glared at the king and his advisors.

�It�s worth it to have one of them dead!� the boy shouted.

More servants were now verbally assaulting those of the other family. Guards from both sides had their hands on their weapons. King Shaemes ordered his own guards to restrain the murderous servant and then ordered the Bellaen guards to restrain the baroness. He told them he would talk to them later. He ordered everyone from both families to return to their rooms. He also asked Baron Brosen to close all of the tunnel openings. He noted that they would have to nail all of the doors shut and King Shaemes ordered him to hurry. Ruinil suggested sending some of the king�s guards to make sure it was done properly.

�Shall I deal with this servant?� Ruinil said, indicating the young Bellaen man.

�Take him out and kill him,� King Shaemes said.

�Yes, kill me!� the youth shouted at Ruinil. �Kill me!�

He spit at the yeoman.

�Yes, My Liege,� Ruinil said.

He had a page fetch his axe and then he and two guards took the man outside of the walls. The servant, defiant to the end, actually laid down himself on the log that Ruinil found to do the deed. He told the man his misdeed and the youth noted that the Peliens murdered Leira, the most wonderful incredible woman of all time, so he killed one of them for that.

�Do what you must, sirrah!� he said.

Ruinil did the deed.

* * *

For the rest of the night, guards were busy keeping servants of the two families from each other.

The next morning, a servant of the Bellaens came to the king with a message asking permission to leave the castle immediately. He replied that he would give an answer within the hour. Then he called for Gaelyn and Ruinil and spoke with them.

�Kind of a difficult situation for a young king,� King Shaemes said. �I hated having to decree death upon the young boy last night.�

�He welcomed it,� Gaelyn said.

�My Liege, unfortunately, you are still responsible for bringing justice,� Ruinil said. �Although someone, apparently this servant, was responsible for killing the bride, it gave no cause for this man to wantonly kill another servant who had nothing to do with this. It was murder. It was justice that we did.�

�We did have a message from the baroness this morning,� the king said. �They are ready to leave. I told her I would give her an answer within an hour. I do agree that keeping them here might be better, but I�m afraid that our own resources would be strained, perhaps beyond our capacity, if we continue to hold them. I�m hoping that I can convince them to stay another day in the hopes that maybe our friend Trevor will be here. Maybe he can shed some light on what happened to our assassin. Do you have any suggestions? Any ideas?�

�Do you believe this man?� Ruinil asked. �That he didn�t do it ... that he was forced? One of the guards who was in the stable, he kept talking about how the man started to say he knew who the person who forced him to do what he did was. He started to say the name when he died.�

�There is magic in the world,� the king replied. He looked at Gaelyn. �Just yesterday, we saw what you can do. If there�s a more powerful caster, who knows what could happen? I do not believe that Jonathan was that man. The one person I�ve talked to while we�ve been here who is against the marriage is Hadrien. Everyone seems to support it. The baron, the baroness, the brothers and sisters. All but Hadrien.�

�You think Hadrien�s a sorcerer?�

�I do not know.�

�As always, I�m at your command. If you wish me to keep these families here, I will do what I can to see that they stay.�

�What would the typical burial ritual as far as preparing the body ...� King Shaemes said to Gaelyn.

�I do not think the mother of the deceased would want me anywhere near her family,� Gaelyn replied. �And honestly, I do not wish to attend them. At all.�

�The girl was sweet, at any rate,� Ruinil said.

He suggested for the Bellaens to send for their own priests. King Shaemes thought on the matter for some time.

�It may not be the wisest move, but I�m going to allow them to leave,� he finally said. �It will be more difficult if they stay. If you could tell them that they can leave.�

�That is your command?� Ruinil said.

�Yes.�

Ruinil went to the Bellaens quarters and informed them that there was no new information and, despite what had occurred between the two families and the wrongs against the king, he understood their grief and would allow them to return to their own lands.

The Bellaens left with all due haste.

Other guests also left the estate.

* * *

Trevor Ciesen arrived the next day. After learning of the situation, he guessed that true magic had been used to silence the servant and keep him from revealing the name of the person he was working for. The king questioned him on what a young man might need to cast such a spell but the mage told him that only a tome would be needed. However, in the case of the magic used, the magic would have to be quite powerful, not the kind that a simple hedge mage could use.

Ruinil suggested to the king that Brosen might be somehow behind the spell casting. He also suggested Jason Raenech, the self-named Duke of neighboring Osoerde, might be capable of something.

�He is not without making mischief in other kingdoms,� he said.

�That was my thought,� King Shaemes said. �The fact that maybe he had sent someone down to cause strife.�

�How could he have heard of the marriage of these two families?� Gaelyn asked.

�It�s not exactly secret,� Ruinil said.

�No. But he�s not exactly here.�

�Servants talk. Townsfolk talk. Invitations went across the land.�

The three men looked at each other.

�I am loath to recommend this, My Liege,� Ruinil said, �but perhaps we should make some sort of overtures to the Bellaen family.�

�Yes, I agree,� King Shaemes said. �We may have to. I�m not sure what they would require more than the blood of the person who killed their daughter.�

�Perhaps giving their son a place of honor in the kingdom. Or even pledging their youngest daughter to another noble.�

�The Peliens have a younger son. But I don�t think that�s going happen. It is a possibility. Most of the provinces are smaller than these two so it would not be much compensation.�

There was little else to do at River Hall. King Shaemes told Baron Brosen that the matter was not over and he would continue to work to resolve the situation. Baron Brosen desperately wanted some resolution and an end of the feud.

They returned to Caer Callin the next day.

* * *

Over the next week, the feud escalated. Assassins were allegedly sent to the Pelien estate and mercenaries burned Pelien holdings. There was talk that some of the agents working against the Peliens were killed. Likewise, Bellaen holdings were set fire to. In response, King Shaemes put his archers in Halried on high watch and moved a unit of infantry into Dhoenel and put them on high watch in the hopes of stemming some of the violence. He also sent letters asking the two families to guarantee that they were still loyal to Aerenwe and to himself as king, as well as wanting assurances that they promoted the safety and welfare of the country over priority over anything. He noted that if they believed that, for them to strengthen their pledges to him and their country again to uphold the laws of the land, swear allegiance to protect the provinces of the land and not shed the blood of the land. He hoped that would stem some of the worse of the feud. In addition, he sent each family a gold bar. It seemed to help.

Osoerde�s troops continued to muster across the borders. He sent a letter to the Duke of Osoerde, who claimed that the troops were merely training.

Within a day of receiving that letter, however, Osoerde declared war on Aerenwe and sent troops across the Berendor River. Only a unit of 200 archers and a unit of 200 infantrymen defended the province. Against the force of 400 cavalry, 400 infantrymen, 200 archers, and 200 pikemen, King Shaemes ordered his men to flee the province and regroup in the province of Calrie.

The next week, King Shaemes mustered more troops in the kingdom. In the end, he sent an army of 600 infantry, 600 archers, 400 pikemen, and 200 knights raised in the provinces of Calrie and Halried. That left a unit of 200 irregulars in Calrie. Ruinil and Gaelyn led the army.

The battle was vicious and mostly one-sided. The knights on the right flank led by Gaelyn crashed into the Osoerde infantry and were met on one side by a unit of charging Osoerde cavalry. The infantry unit was destroyed and the Osoerde cavalry that attacked their flank were ineffective against the knights.

Infantry and pikemen moved up on the left side against part of the Osoerde cavalry. On the left, the Aerenwe forces also moved to engage the Osoerde troops. In the center, the Aerenwe archers held back, hoping for an opening but the Osoerde cavalry pivoted and roared up the middle to engage them. The Osoerde archers hang back.

Ruinil�s archers in the back routed the cavalry that had been sent up the line against them before they could even reach the Aerenwe line. On the left side, the troops fought viciously against each other.

Aerenwe troops on the left and right sides pivoted into the center even as another unit of pikemen moved from the back lines and attacked the Osoerde pikemen and fleeing cavalry there as more troops moved forward on the left flank. More troops also moved to the right to support the main battle going on in the center of the field of battle. The Osoerde archers in the rear moved forward to engage the archers who were waiting on the left side, clashing with them and then being routed, fleeing back towards their own lines.

On the left flank, the Osoerde infantry was destroyed. On the right flank, Gaelyn�s knights wreaked havoc among the Osoerde infantry while taking little damage in return.

In the center, in the great melee that was going on there, the Osoerde cavalry still trying to flee the field of battle was destroyed by the pincer that was the Aerenwe pikemen. The Osoerde pikemen there were also wiped out, leaving the center of the field of battle free.

The routing Osoerde archers on the left side fled with Aerenwe forces in close pursuit. The Aerenwe archers caught the fleeing Osoerde archers and fought them to a standstill. Though the Osoerde cavalry fought viciously, they were pushed back and then destroyed by the Aerenwe knights led by Gaelyn and the archers led by Ruinil.

One of the Aerenwe infantry units that had not yet been in combat suddenly fell back and left the field of battle. From his vantage point on the nearby hill, King Shaemes recognized the colors of the unit: it was led by Hadrien Pelien.

The last Osoerde infantry unit was wiped out by the archer unit that they, themselves destroyed, the only Aerenwe unit that was completely wiped out.

Hadrien�s infantry unit had fled the battle and was soon found. Hadrien was not with them. He had fled across the river into Osoerde.

When they met at the king�s pavilion after the battle, Gaelyn noted that their troops were massed and ready and only the Berendor River stood between them and Osoerde. King Shaemes protested that he couldn�t afford war, but Gaelyn pointed out that he could if he took the treasury of Osoerde. He noted there would also be taxes collected from the provinces of Osoerde when they were victorious. He pointed out that, as the duke had recently usurped the throne of Osoerde, they were actually liberators.

King Shaemes decided to take the war to Osoerde. He said he would take command of Hadrien�s unit in the war. That met with some resistance from Gaelyn.

�Put me at the forefront of your army, My Liege!� Ruinil said. �I will take that province for your kingdom!�

King Shaemes agreed. He sent a letter to the wizard Trevor Ciesen to catch up with them. He also sent a letter to Baroness Laera that the killer of her daughter had fled the country and he was personally leading an army in pursuit. A letter went to the baron, telling him his son was a traitor and had fled into Osoerde. He further stated that he would pursue the man and that he would be talking to Brosen when he returned. He soon received a reply that the gold bar would be returned to the king immediately.

Within a week, his troops crossed the Berendor River into Osoerde. There were 400 archers under the command of Ruinil, 200 knights under the command of Gaelyn, 400 infantry, and 400 pikemen. They left a unit of 200 infantry behind. They found the resistance there was weaker than they expected. In the end, all that could be arrayed against the massive force of Aerenwe were 400 local levy holding the right side, 200 irregulars holding the left, and 600 archers in the center.

On the field of battle, the knights of Aerenwe roared down the right side of the field at the levies positioned there. They were followed closely by other Aerenwe forces. Osoerde moved its archers towards the right even as the other forces of Aerenwe focused on the left side of the field.

On the right, one unit of Osoerde levy was immediately routed and completely fled the field of battle. The other unit holding that side fought back viciously and several knights were killed in the melee. On the left, the Aerenwe forces struck the irregulars and one of the units was repelled and fell back. The other units destroyed the irregulars, that remained.

The Osoerde archers opened fire on the infantry trying to join the battle on the right side but only injured the unit they were trying to wipe out. The Aerenwe cavalry there fought the levy that still stood to a standstill, neither side making headway against the other. The injured infantry unit that tried to join the battle fell back but the fresh infantry unit managed to injure the remaining levy soldiers rather badly.

On the left side, the forces of Aerenwe rushed the archers positioned there. Those archers let fly on the archer units rushing them but did little damage or injury to those forces. When the two sides collided, the Osoerde archers were destroyed in the melee. The Aerenwe archer units under Ruinil charged across the field towards the two remaining Osoerde archer units. His men were struck by the arrows, but Ruinil�s unit retained cohesiveness and both units of archers crashed into the remaining Osoerde archers. One of the two Osoerde units was routed and fled the field of battle, while the other one fought the Aerenwe archers to a standstill.

On the right, the Aerenwe knights were joined by infantry and pikemen and the Osoerde levy fell back and was then destroyed. Then the knights, infantry, and pikemen joined the Aerenwe archers. The cavalry crashed into the Osoerde Archers, the footmen coming in behind. It took very little to destroy the remaining unit of archers, leaving the field of battle in Aerenwe�s control.

King Shaemes lost no time in occupying the province of Algael, assigning a unit of infantry to neutralize the stronghold of Duiren Haneire there. He levied taxes in that province and sent back to Aerenwe to increase taxes in all of the provinces to pay for the war. He also sent spies out to try to find William Moergen, the rightful ruler of Osoerde. He told them to convey the message that Osoerde invaded and that they pushed back Raenech�s forces and would now help reclaim the country if he pledged allegiance to Aerenwe to create a larger, more powerful land.

He also received word from the present Duke of Osoerde, Jaison Raenech. In the letter, he claimed that he had fallen under the influence of his advisor wizard. The letter went on to say that, while he was mustering troops for a training exercise in Algael, the mage cast a spell upon him, forcing him to declare war and invade. In the letter, he admitted to having a vested interest in taking Aerenwe�s lands, but claimed he never planned to invade. However, he wrote, once the die was cast, he felt he had to pursue the matter to its end.

King Shaemes sent the messenger back asking who the mage was. In the letter that returned, it noted that the mage had been duly executed. It also noted that Duke Osoerde was willing, if King Shaemes withdrew his troops from the nation, to give a formal apology and send a gold bar to show his remorse at his unintentional acts. He also noted that he understood there was a traitor that had escaped to his borders and he was willing to send the traitor back to Aerenwe if the king pulled back his troops.

The king had not yet heard back from William Moergen.

Gaelyn thought a single gold bar was a slap in the face.

�I do not think that this Raenech is truthful at all,� Ruinil said. �My suggestion is that, in good faith, you cannot leave until the traitor is captured. Once he is captured, then perhaps discussions could be opened again.�

King Shaemes sent a letter that he could not leave until the traitor was captured. He said he must have him in his hands. Secondly, the loss of life must be paid for and, as generous as his first offer was, he thought a more appropriate payment would be three gold bars. He noted that he would also be waiting for the capture of the traitor.

Within a day, a letter came back, offering King Shaemes two gold bars and noting that the traitor had fled to the city of Moriel and had been captured. It noted that he would be sent to the king post-haste, once the troops had been withdrawn back across the Berendor River. He wrote back that he would gladly come to the capitol and claim both his prizes, his three bars and the traitor. The letter that returned noted that the gold bars and the traitor would be sent directly if, upon their receipt, all of his troops withdrew back across the Berendor River.

In that time, King Shaemes also heard back from William Moergen. What he learned was that the former duke didn�t have any troops or money, only the secret support of the people. Gaelyn advised that the king send for the man so that once Raenech was defeated, he could be reinstated. He sent his spies out again to ask William Moergen to return with one of them so that Shaemes might protect him and rally troops in Algael as they would join forces so that he could reclaim his throne.

Trevor Ciesen never arrived.

King Shaemes sent a final letter to Duke Jaison Raenech, noting that he felt he was in his territory even in Algael. He claimed it and noted that he would see the duke shortly with the traitor and the five gold bars.

He also decided that he would perform the investiture ritual and before his troops moved on, he had invested the province of Algael into the Kingdom of Aerenwe.

game in tacoma, wa

cjubmavin — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 00:47:27 GMT

i can start a game would like to play a sci-fi based game but if it comes down to it we can play ALMOST anything friday night thru sunday night also need a extra dm so the dm can play a little to i can pick up people in the tacoma area i have base acces

New Games and Old

Dalkiel — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 19:38:22 GMT

I've played a fair number of RPGs. I've got the books for dozens of different games, and tend to be a completest when I decide to add a game to the group repertoire. But with the huge number of games on the shelf, and the wide range of genres they represent, it's becoming rarer that I stumble on a game (new or old) that I feel brings anything new to the table. For example, I don't feel there's much that would be offered by the myriad of fantasy RPGs that seem to come out every year. I have Pathfinder for general fantasy, OpenD6 Fantasy if i want to do "rules lite", and Fantasy HERO if I want to get into deep and finegrained control of a character build.

So it's a great pleasure when I discover a game that I feel does bring something new and different to the table. In the past year I've discovered (and added to the "to play" list) FIVE new games (well, new to me) that my players and I are excited about. We've added Star Trek: The Next Generation RPG (by the late Last Unicorn Games), Nobilis (currently in print by EOS Games) Diaspora (currently in print by VSCA Publishing), Eclipse Phase (Currently in print by Posthuman Studios) and Blue Planet (Revised edition now being published by the recently resurrected FASA Games). It's a wonderful feeling to find new games that can add to the fun of roleplaying.

So, what new games have you discovered in the last year? Discuss. :-)

Its hard to go back

MortonStromgal — Wed, 21 Nov 2012 23:55:51 GMT

So I have been playing Pathfinder and SR4A for awhile now and I was rereading the rules from 3.5 and SR3. I have found that while there are some things to like about the older games its really hard to go back to an older set of rules when you have played the newer set enough. The changes were made to make the game better and while some cool things may have been lost the newer games just play better. This is not to say you still cant have as much fun playing the older game its just that the newer game will alleviate some issues that may or may not come up in your groups playstyle. Once your used to the fix you dont want to go back. There are also a ton of great games out there but for some reason I always go back to D&D, Shadowrun & Vampire. Dragon Age, Warhammer Fantasy RP, Desolation, Dresden Files, just don't carry that same appeal. And while I may enjoy the newer rule sets I still miss thinks in the older rules. Ultimately though its all about the setting, for me I could play Vampire using GURPS or another system because its the setting that draws me in. And while I prefer the original mechanics to a generic system, at the end of the day the system is not as important as getting around a table and telling a great story in a world that I love.

Maybe running a game ... (part 2)

fmitchell — Sat, 03 Nov 2012 16:40:07 GMT

We ended up creating characters for Tunnels & Trolls, and I ran them through The Dungeon of the Rat, a new-ish GM adventure from RPGNow.

Then real life intervened. We've met twice in as many months, both times to run Dragon Age. It's an interesting system and an interesting world, but I'm not sure whether we'll return to T&T, do DA instead, or what. (Including just drift our separate ways.)

That got me thinking about another campaign I'd like to get started, an Old School / Weird Fantasy place called Erebus. If anyone's interested, I've put a rough draft of the player information online, as read-only Wiki pages:

http://www.frank-mitchell.com/games/erebus/

There's several TODO items and places to improve, but if anyone wants to send me feedback I'd take it in the spirit it was given.

Also, RuneQuest 6 rocks ... but putting together a campaign for THAT would require several SAN rolls without a) using lots of third-party material or b) cutting out most of the magic and monsters.

The Loss of a Good Friend and Fellow Gamer...

Dalkiel — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 19:41:34 GMT

We got quite the shock this past Friday. We had assembled for the weekly game, getting ready to play, and were waiting on one player, a fellow named Dave. We didn't think much about it at the time. The player was always at least on time, usually early. We also were aware of a large deployment of power company vehicles along his route, and expected he might have hit traffic and/or turned around to use an alternate route. But after an hour passed we started to worry, and I called his house number to see if everything was OK.

...and discovered that a relative of Dave's had put an announcement on his answering machine, telling whoever called that she regretted to inform us that he had passed away rather suddenly on October 24, and providing information for the funeral and several phone numbers.

We sat there staring at each other around the table, not knowing what to say or think. The guy was a gem of a human being, and easily one of the best players we'd ever known. We couldn't imagine what had happened, or why. We tried talking about it a bit, then called it a night early. Well, we said we were calling it a night, but we were still around the table for a bit, not really knowing what to do with ourselves. Dave had been such a part of everything since we first contacted him in July 2011 through P&PG (where he was known as Corax) that he was almost family.

After everyone went home, my wife called one of the numbers on the answering machine message. She got Dave's sister, who told us he'd collapsed at work. They tried reviving him, but were unsuccessful. Cause of death: heart failure, at age 49.

The conversation then took an unexpected turn. She suddenly asked my wife, �Are you one of his gaming friends?�

Usually, when a question like that is asked, the first reaction is, �Oh, boy. We're going to get disapproved of.� But my wife told her directly that yes, we were his gaming friends, and he would come over for both the Friday and Sunday group every week.

The reaction was immediate � and completely unexpected. She told us how glad she was that we'd reached out to her, that they (the whole family) were trying to reach us, but didn't have names or numbers to go by. And she wanted to tell all of us how important we had been to Dave in this past year.

She went on to tell us how he had been a reclusive man, not interacting much with people beyond going to work. When the internet had first come along, he became even more reclusive, and apparently family worried for him. Then July of last year came around, and a radical shift in his behavior became apparent to them. He was more outgoing, laughed and smiled more, and was obviously much, much happier. And he would talk � a LOT � about this group of gamers he'd met and joined. They didn't understand the games, and didn't have much interest in learning about them, but they could see the positive change in Dave, and could only be grateful.

We told her that the whole roster of both groups would attend the funeral, and that's when she said something else that floored us. She asked me to come up the house after the funeral. It seems that Dave had amassed quite the library of game books, which they had no personal use for. BUT...it was important to Dave, so very important, and it had been responsible for such joy in the time we knew him, that they wanted us to go through them, and take what we wanted. They wanted the books to go to a good home, and for us to have something to remember Dave by.

Personally, I felt honored to think I was involved in bringing someone such happiness, especially in what turned out to be the last fifteen months of his life. It's just really hard to learn about it in this way. Dave will be sorely missed by everyone here.

Traps for sale, new traps for old....

nijineko — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 05:06:04 GMT

A cat like me sees a lot of things sitting in odd corners. Few sentients pay attention to cats, unless we are making noise, or are trying to communicate on the move. Over the years, I have collected a number of interesting odds and ends. I once tried giving away a bunch of them, but it turned out that the operation of the various and sundry proved so complex, that it did not work out well for the poor recipient.

So I thought I would give some of them away one at a time. Drop me a line, my contact methods are listed in my profile. Give me an old tired trap, and I will give you an improved variant or a brand spanking new one in return.

Any takers?

We now have a full group

cplmac — Sun, 07 Oct 2012 15:00:21 GMT

And the good news is that at this time there is now 8 players signed up for the campaign. This will allow for all the characters to be involved from the beginning. One player will have to leave earlier than the rest to go to work, but that will be able to be "written" into the game.

Stay tunned for the campaign log to follow......

Eriks D&D Game: Plague at Goblin's Tooth Part 1-1: Introductions

Max_Writer — Sat, 06 Oct 2012 19:19:18 GMT

Monday, September 24, 2012

(After playing Erik�s Dungeons and Dragons game Saturday with Stephen Turner from 6:00 p.m. to 2 a.m.)

Porthos� Tale

I am Porthos, priest of Olidammara, God of music, revels, wine, rogues, humor, and tricks: The Laughing Rogue. This is the tale of my first meeting with Aeryn, Orrin, and Marzena.

It was the fall when I first met them. By the Elvish calendar, the year was 2012, though no one used those notations anymore. For some reason the Elvish year stuck in my head. I had left Sharn in the Spring to explore the other villages and the rural areas in and around the Aldharath Forest in the Eastwold. I only stayed in each village until my welcome had been worn out, usually by jealous or suspicious husbands.

I had last left the town of Cambol-T�r, a village under the control of Baron Bardon Signum, deciding to leave during that storm season after I had come under the scrutiny of some of the nobles of that village. They were not happy with the, let us say, friendships I had developed with their wives and daughters. I headed for Goblin�s Tooth, a frontier town that had been under hard times recently. I had joined a caravan of two wagons that were going in the same direction.

Early in the journey, we were overtaken by a contingent of armed guards not wearing the device of the blue arrowhead of Cambol-T�r but rather red and blue tabards with an eight-pointed star, indicating they were royal guards from Sharn itself. They were led by a man with a high-crowned, silver helm with a white horse tail coming out of the top of it. He warned us to keep our guard up as there were fell creatures on the road. He noted that several logging camps and caravans that had been attacked by fell wolves.

I was starting to think that travel might not have been the best idea.

On the first night, after we had crossed a ford in the river, I heard howls in the forest. The reflection of eyes, low to the ground, also appeared around the camp that night. It was most disquieting.

Early on the last day of the journey, we overtook another wagon on the road pulled by two sturdy-looking draft horses. Two men sat on the wagon�s seat: One wore a chain shirt and the other man was nondescript. In the back of the wagon was a woman, the hood of her cloak over her head. Even at that distance, I could see how striking her face was. A tarp was pulled over the back of the vehicle, apparently covering goods.

The man in the chain shirt climbed into the back of the wagon by the woman. He put a bow in his lap. I was sitting in the lead wagon�s seat, next to the driver and leader of the small caravan, Oswald, my loaded light crossbow in my lap. When we got close, Oswald hailed their driver, who merely grunted in reply. When he asked where they were headed, he replied �Where do you think? Headed back to Goblin�s Tooth.�

�There�s no reason to be like that,� Oswald called. �There�s strength in numbers. We�ve heard of fell creatures on the road ... and seen some too.�

The driver of the other wagon seemed inexperienced, which accounted for our overtaking them. Then the other man stood up in the back of the wagon. He held onto the side, his short bow in his hand.

�Was it orcs, goblins, or wolves?� he called in a thick, rural accent.

�We�ve seen wolves ... or something,� Oswald replied. �We heard howls on the road and saw fell eyes at night by the campfire. We knew not what they were.�

�Wolves. It�s a good thing you didn�t see �em up close.�

�I say I agree with you sir.�

�Very large. Very dangerous.�

�As wolves are wont to be.�

�No no no. These aren�t like wolves.�

He held his hand near his waist.

�These are wolves,� he said, then holding his hand near his neck. �That�s not an exaggeration.�

�Do you mean from where you are standing or from the ground?� I called.

�Shoulder high, up to me slats, was a wolf,� he replied.

I looked around more carefully at the woods around us.

�Those are very big wolves,� I muttered to Oswald.

�And there�s orcs loose on the road too,� the other man continued. �Led by humans, it seems.�

�I thought these roads had been cleared!� Oswald said.

�By who?� the other man replied.

�I�d heard that the last wagon had made its way to Goblin�s Tooth!�

�What wagon?�

�They sent a supply wagon ... some time ago.�

�Oh, yeah. Everybody from that was killed. We got the wagon back. Took it back to town but everybody was dead. Orcs and wolves and humans.�

�Bandits!�

�A little bit more organized. Perhaps a little bit more nefarious, I would say.�

�Bloody roads are not what they used to be.�

�No. You�re in for a little bit of a clear time now, though. We took care of most of them. Me and me mates.�

�You did? Are you King�s men, then? Or guards from Goblin�s Tooth? What are you?�

�No no no. We�re just ... uh ... gentlemen and a lady of opportunity, as it were.�

�Mercenaries,� Oswald muttered to me.

�Not bandits?� I replied.

�Could be either one,� he said, nervously. Then he raised his voice. �Good day to you lads, good day!�

He slapped the reins on the horses and they increased their pace.

�But what about safety in numbers?� the other man called.

�Yes, there are great numbers still in Goblin�s Tooth!� Oswald called.

�Have a nice day,� the driver of the other wagon growled.

I saw the man with the bow climb over the seat and talk to the other man as we passed. I winked at the lady in the back and gave her a nod. She didn�t look up at all.

�There is a lady with them,� I said to Oswald once we had passed. �Should we not consider this?�

�I doubt she�s a lady at all if she�s with those bandits,� the man replied.

The sound of galloping hooves came from behind and, when I looked back, I saw that the bowman�s wagon had increased speed and was now chasing the two wagons in the caravan.

�It looks like a race,� I muttered.

�No! They�re coming to rob us! They�re coming to rob us!� Oswald said in a panic.

�I do not see any weapons,� I said calmly as he urged the horses into more speed. �The man in the back seems to be hanging on for dear life.�

I did the same.

�You will kill the horses!� I said.

�Not if we make it to Goblin�s Tooth first!� he replied.

�Though they appear armed, they do not appear ready!�

�It doesn�t take much time!�

I sighed and hung on to the wagon seat as best I could.

�Better make good use of that crossbow, my lad!� Oswald shouted.

�Well, if they attempt to board us, I will do my best to repel boarders!� I shouted back sarcastically.

I looked back again. The driver was laughing hysterically.

Well, happy people are good people, I thought.

The pursuing wagon struck something in the road and lurched upwards, coming back down with a crash and a crack. There were shouts of confusion and anger as it slowed, one of the wheels obviously broken.

�If they mean to board us, they are failing quite spectacularly,� I muttered.

Oswald laughed.

�They broke a wheel!� he said. �We have a chance.�

�They look more pathetic than pirate, if you ask me,� I said.

�Oi!� one of the men shouted from the wreck. �Are you going to stop and help us with the wheel?�

�We outnumber them two to one,� I pointed out to Oswald. �They appear to be in great trouble. Perhaps we should stop. I will lend assistance. I will distract them while you go on to the town.�

�You�re welcome to hop off if you want to, but I�m not stopping,� he replied.

He slowed the wagon and I jumped, landing solidly in the road. I gave Oswald a quick salute.

�I�ll see you in Goblin�s Tooth for that drink you promised me!� I called.

He took his cap off his head and waved it. I stepped back and the second wagon, pulled by mules, roared by. I took off my hat and waved at them as well and they waved back. Then I walked back to the wrecked wagon, whistling. The two men were arguing heatedly.

As they argued, I took a look at the damaged wheel. I guessed it could be fixed with magic. In between spokes, some sections of the wheel were missing, but I guessed if they could be found, I could use the magic to mend it.

�We don�t have another wheel,� the woman said. �What are we going to do?�

�I don�t know,� the man with the bow replied. �I guess we�ll have to walk back and borrow another wagon.�

�We�ll just ride the horses,� the other man said.

�Excuse me, gentlemen, I do not wish to interrupt your conversation,� I said. �Once you�re finished, please let me know.�

�You just did,� the larger man said. �What do you want?�

�I am Porthos, priest of Olidammara,� I said.

�Who?� the bowman said.

�Olidammara. Party God,� the larger man said.

�Party God?� I said. �That�s exactly correct! It�s surprising to me that people recognize sometimes. I could, perhaps, mend your wheel, if you so desire?�

�How much would that cost us?� the bowman said.

�A ride into the next town?� I said.

�Oh, sure,� the bowman said. �I�ll help you find the piece.�

We searched down the road for the pieces that had ripped free of the wheel. It took us some time to find the pieces, possibly because I continued to look back at the woman on the cart, trying to get a good glimpse of her face. The bowman noticing me.

�Yeah,� he said. �From here up,� he indicated the upper part of his face, �is just as good as from here down.� He waved near his mouth.

�Is she all right?� I asked. �We had a rough ride. Have you checked on her?�

�She�s fine, mate,� he said.

The woman was standing by the wheel, looking at it. She was very short and had a nice figure.

�She�s not exactly a delicate flower,� he went on. �She takes care of herself.�

�That is good,� I said. �Everyone should take care of themselves.�

�No, I mean, she can handle herself just fine. That�s what I�m saying.�

�Very well. I am looking and I�m glad she can take of herself.�

�Yeah, but you�re not looking at the road, mate!�

�I have been looking. I looked here and I looked over here.�

�Marzena! You got that piece of the wheel? I didn�t think so! See, she don�t have it.�

�Marzena, what a lovely name. Where did you hit this thing that you hit that damaged the wheel?�

�I didn�t hit nothin. I was in the back.�

�Yes, where did your friend ... what is his name?�

�Orrin.�

�Really? Anyway, I�m sorry, what is your name?�

�Aeryn.�

�Aeryn. Is great pleasure to meet you.�

We continued looking.

�Where did you hit ... where did he hit whatever he hit?� I asked.

�I don�t know!� he said. �Orrin!�

Orrin stomped our way and then picked up something and walked back to the wagon.

�He�s got good eyes,� I said.

�Yeah, but he�s embarrassed,� Aeryn said.

�He�s embarrassed?�

�Yeah, give him a good rib poking about it when you get back � no, wait. Don�t. Don�t do that. You can�t do that. I�ll do that. Just don�t say nothing to him.�

�I could try to soothe him and tell him he doesn�t need to be embarrassed.�

�It�s a bad idea! It�s a bad idea!�

�All right.�

We walked back and I used two spells on the wheel to make it whole again. It didn�t look as badly damaged as I first thought it was, however.

�All right, let�s go!� Orrin said.

�You drivin� again?� Aeryn asked. �Take your time this time. Slow it down, mate. What was into you? I don�t know whatever come over you, driving like that. It�s reckless.�

�I let you get in my head, that�s the problem.�

�It�s reckless of you. You endangered all of our lives.�

�But you didn�t!� I said. �And did you enjoy yourself? Was it invigorating? Stimulating?�

�It�s was great until we hit that rock,� Aeryn said.

�I am not asking you, I�m asking him,� I said.

�It was good,� Orrin said.

�Then there you are,� I said. �It was all good. Where would you like me to be? Whoever�s in charge of this party?�

I looked towards Marzena.

�Who is in charge?� Aeryn asked.

�I guess that�d be you,� Orrin said.

�Really? Me?�

�Very well,� I said. �Do you wish me on the back or do you wish me on the seat in the front.�

�Sit where you want, mate, I don�t care.�

I walked to the back of the wagon and sat next to Marzena. I made small talk with her. She said very little but it was all right. I could talk enough for two. I chatted away with her though she only barely replied. I also chatted with Aeryn though Orrin said little more than the girl. When I asked her if the race was invigorating, she merely said �It was very fast.�

�But did you find it invigorating?� I pressed. �Did you find it was something you enjoyed or something you hated?�

�Neither,� she replied.

�So, you remain neutral and uninterested in the race?�

�Quite.�

Aeryn offered all of us biscuits as I continued chatting with Marzena. The girl merely took the biscuit without a word. I took the dry hardtack and ate it for my lunch. We talked about the best way to prepare such unappetizing food and I told him about dwarf bread.

�Is it made from real dwarves?� Aeryn quipped.

�I believe they use gravel,� I said. �You take it out, you look at it, and you realize �I am not as hungry as I thought I was.� A good loaf of dwarf bread will keep you going for days without food.�

�It gives you days without taking a shit is what it is!� Orrin said.

�Not that I know of,� I replied. �Just looking at dwarf bread and you no longer wish to eat. It is good to carry some with you. It reminds you how hungry you are not.�

�I don�t think I know any dwarves,� Aeryn said.

�I know a lot more now,� Orrin said.

�So, you come from Cambol-T�r, eh?� Aeryn asked.

�Yes, I said. �I decided to travel here in the fall. Find a place to settle down. Spread the teachings of Olidammara.�

�Goblin�s Tooth?�

�Yes, I�ve never been here. I find that going new places and seeing new things is invigorating. It is good for the soul.�

�For about the first five minutes it�s all right. Then you�ve seen the whole town.�

�That is fine. It is a good place to winter, is it not? Where are you from?�

�Lots of places.�

�But where most recently?�

�Back down the road a little ways,� Orrin said.

�Yeah, back there,� Aeryn said. �A mile and a half, maybe.�

�You have a house in the woods?� I asked.

�Sort of,� Aeryn said.

�No, you asked where we�re from,� Orrin said, thinking he was explaining a joke he�d said. �You met us down the road a little ways so that�s where we�re from.�

I laughed politely.

�So are very literal as well as clever?� I asked.

�Um ... aye,� he replied uncertainly.

�Yes ... or not?� I said. �I don�t know. I just met you. It�s hard to make an impression of people that you do not know.�

We continued chatting as we rode. I noticed the glint of metal from under the tarp and as I reached over to look, Marzena grabbed my wrist.

�You should mind your hands of everything in this wagon,� she said quietly, turning and glared at me. She had very striking, green eyes and dark black hair.

�I do touch anything or anyone who does not wish to be touched,� I said.

It had looked like the back of the wagon was filled with weapons. There were also bags of coin.

�So, you are traders, then?� I asked.

�No,� she said, turning away.

�We will be shortly,� Aeryn said.

I advised them that they might have to pay taxes on any goods going into Goblin�s Tooth. Aeryn noted that they hadn�t had a problem with that before. I continued chatting with Marzena.

The village of Goblin�s Tooth was quaint and probably housed only about 300 people. A green, thorny hedge wall surrounded the town and we passed a graveyard on a small hill near the road as we approached it. The guards at the gate waved the wagon through. The market square dominated the town. A large statue stood in the middle of it of a man dressed heroically and holding a sword. A mill stood not far from the market square. A large building that looked like a grocery of some kind and a trading post was on one side of the market. I finally spotted a tavern with what appeared to be a dragon rampant on the sign.

A young man stood in the stocks on one side of the market.

�What is the man stockaded for, do you know?� I asked Marzena.

�I don�t know,� she said.

�Gentlemen! Good gentlemen!� the boy in the stocks called as we passed. �Come and free me.�

�Why would we do that?� Aeryn called to him.

�Because I asked, how about that?�

�Do you see a tabard on my chest that says �deputy� or �sheriff� or �constable�?�

�What have you been stockaded for?� I asked.

�Did you trip and fall and get yourself locked in the stocks?� Aeryn asked.

�No, no, I�ve been wrongly imprisoned ... for love,� the boy said.

�Stockaded,� I said.

�Whatever,� he replied. �Technicalities, mate.�

�For love?� I said.

�Then ask love to let you out,� Aeryn said.

Orrin stopped the wagon at the trading post. I climbed off the back of the wagon and offered the lady my hand, which she ignored as she climbed down. I bowed to her. She nodded.

�It was a pleasure to speak to you and your friends,� I said to her.

She nodded again.

I left them, walking across the market towards the boy in the stocks.

�Oi! We�ll be in the Staggering Dragon in about an hour, hour and a half!� Aeryn called to me.

I pointed towards the one with the dragon rampant.

�Yeah!� he called.

�Thank you!� I called. �I would love to join you for a drink!�

I swaggered over to the stockade.

�Yes, yes, my good friend!� the boy of maybe 16 said.

�No, we don�t know each other,� I said to him. �So, we are mere acquaintances. Why are you locked up? And I need more than �love� because I have dealt with my share of �love� and I can understand how someone could be locked up for it. I�m curious as to your story, for the moment.�

�I was trying to prove myself to my love and fell into hard times and unluck and that ends me here. Tavian the Unlucky, they call me.�

�How were you so unlucky? Who was the man whose woman you were trying to ...?�

�Hopefully she would have been mine.�

�But she was not because she said no?�

�It�s not like that! I wouldn�t force myself on any woman!�

�No no. Tell me your story.�

�I was born to simple parents out in the farmlands,� he began.

He told me tales that were mostly true. What was true is that there was a girl in town he was trying to impress. Egged on by �friends,� he had pulled the rope on the alarm tower to prove his love for the girl. He was to be locked in the stocks for a day or two.

�Unless some kind gentlemen would release me and ...� he said.

�... take your place?� I guessed.

�No, not take my place,� he said. �Release me and I would be ... in your charge, I suppose.�

�Uh-huh. I would be responsible for you if you pulled off any more shenanigans.�

�Of course I wouldn�t pull off any more shenanigans.�

Beyond some of the lower houses, I could see a large stone building that looked official.

�What is this girl�s name?� I asked.

�Daphne,� he said.

�I will see what I can do for you, my friend,� I told him.

�It doesn�t take much! Just unclasp that ... I just can�t reach it ... my hands are ...�

I walked towards the stone building and noticed the men I�d rode into town with unloading weapons and armor from the back of their wagon. They also had sacks they were taking into the trading post.

I found two armed guards in front of the barracks, which I guessed housed the town guard and sheriff. I introduced myself and the temple was pointed out to me.

�There�s a boy in the stockade,� I said. �Tavian the Unlucky? What did he do? Is he a criminal? I am just curious.�

�Damned boy rang the alarm bell,� one of the men said.

�How long is he supposed to stay in the stocks?�

�I don�t know. Day or two?�

�Ah. Is it true that if someone releases him, he becomes their charge?�

The guard laughed.

�If you want to take charge of Tavian, you�re bloody welcome,� he said.

�But the person who took charge of him will end up in the stockade if Tavian does again something foolhardy?�

�Aye � for the rest of the time he�s supposed to be in there. The rest of the day or so.�

�Ah.�

I chatted with the deputies and learned their names were Dudley and Ballard. I learned that Daphne was a farm girl and they joked of who would have an interest in �that dumb kid.� I didn�t get the idea that she was repelled by his advances, however.

I left them and wandered around town, getting the lay of the land. A dairy was near the barracks and closer to the center of town was an inn with stables across from it. A sign declared the inn to be the Shady Oak and I could see several oak trees around the building. A few of the houses in town were very well made. I passed the manor house and saw that smithies were on the road that led to that building. On a hill overlooking the town was obviously a temple, as well as a small, ramshackle building, and the watchtower where Tavian had probably pulled the alarm bell.

I finally returned to the marketplace.

�Have you learned your lesson?� I asked Tavian.

�Aye,� he said. �Aye.�

�Really?�

He nodded.

�Tavian, I�ve been told you have some time left in the stockade,� I said.

�Maybe only a day or so,� he replied.

�That�s what they told you.�

His eyes got wide.

�I will need you to stay with me until such a time as your sentence has been fulfilled,� I told him. �Are you willing to do this if I let you free?�

�Yes,� he said.

�I will let you go free, but I will require you to be my servant. This does not require much, but you will have to stay by my side at all times.�

�All right.�

�Well, not all times, obviously. If there�s a lady involved. This girl Daphne: perhaps I could help you with that situation.�

I learned from the boy that his parents were farmers and he had numerous brothers and sisters. They lived far outside of town and I asked if he needed to go home that night. He told me he was the 7^th of 10 children, so they had plenty of help. Then I let him loose.

�Do you have any money?� I asked him.

�No,� he said. �Do you have any money?�

�No,� I replied. �We shall find a way. Come.�

We went to the Staggering Dragon and I told him about women and Olidammara as we walked. We only talked about Daphne a little, though she seemed more interested in Fred, according to Tavian.

The tavern was a tidy establishment containing a bar, small stage, trestle tables set up along the center of the common area, and a few booths along the walls. Each booth had a small archway for an entry and curtains could be drawn across the archways for privacy. Behind the bar was a very attractive, handsome older woman who was probably in her late 30s.

�Evening lads, what can I get you?� she asked.

I looked around the tavern but saw no sign of Aeryn as of yet.

�I am Porthos, priest of Olidammara,� I said with a smile. �And this is my charge, Tavian. You probably know him.�

�I know Tavian,� she said. �Come in lad.�

�He has been in a bit of trouble so I am keeping an eye on him rather than leaving him in the marketplace.�

�So you took him on, did you?�

�Yes.�

�Brave man.�

�Why thank you. You are a beautiful woman.�

�Thank you.�

�A glass for each of us, please. Ale.�

I paid the four silver coins for the beverages and chatted with her, telling her I was waiting for a recent acquaintance by the name of Aeryn. She thought she knew him. I asked Tavian if he was hungry to which he replied �I�ll always eat.� I ordered lunch for the boy but declined to eat myself, noting I had had a biscuit and it was enough for a poor and devoted priest. When she asked, I told her that I was a priest of Olidammara and could bless or heal something if she wished, though I also noted she looked very healthy. Lunch was stew and consisted of a bowl of stew and a piece of bread for the boy. It smelled delicious so I had some as well.

There were only a few others in the tavern. A dwarf sat at one table while at the end of the bar was a disheveled and unhealthy-looking man. He was thin and had a bulbous and reddish nose. He sat, staring blank-eyed at his ale. The teamsters from the caravan were also having lunch in one of the booths. I learned that the tavern-keeper�s name was Rebecca. I asked her about the other two men in the bar and learned that the man at the bar was Edvard.

�Poor man,� she said. �Spends most of his days here at the inn.�

�Why is he poor?� I asked. �It is not my business.�

�It�s all right. He�s a grocer but he�s missing his brother.�

�How did his brother go missing?�

�That�s maybe a story for another time.�

She told me the dwarf was named Marr and he was taking some time from his pregnant wife.

The teamsters came over once they spotted me and Oswald asked how I had escaped the bandits. I told him it was a misunderstanding and that the men hadn�t been bandits at all. I did note that the driver had not seemed that confident but urged them not to tell him that I had said that.

The door was suddenly kicked open and a man leapt in, hood over his head and scarf pulled up, covering his face.

�All right!� he shouted. �Nobody move!�

�Uh ...� I said, recognizing Aeryn. �Or I could be mistaken.�

�Hey lad!� Rebecca said.

He yanked the hood off.

�Sorry, just a joke,� Aeryn said. �For these lads, right here.�

He gestured to the teamsters, who had fallen to the ground in fright.

�You chaps need some drinks,� Aeryn said to them. �Obviously.�

�Perhaps you should buy them some then,� I said.

�I would be happy to buy you all some drinks,� Aeryn said. �Drinks for everyone in here.�

I helped Oswald up. They seemed shaky and Aeryn advised they relax a little bit.

�What�s with bustin� in here like that?� Oswald said.

�Because I knew that�s how you would react,� Aeryn said, laughing.

�You about to give my heart an arrest!�

�You�re fine.�

�But it was just a joke,� I said. �And he�s buying you a drink.�

Oswald looked at Aeryn.

�You better make that two,� he said.

�Well, maybe I�ll make it half a one, since you left us stranded on the road,� Aeryn replied.

�Or perhaps three,� I interjected.

�If it hadn�t been for the generosity of your ...� he looked at me.

�Travelling companion,� I offered.

�Right!� he went on. �We�d still be stuck back there!�

�You shouldn�t have posed as bandits!� Oswald said.

�Who was posing as bandits?�

�Gentlemen!� I said. �Perhaps we should just solve this by having a few drinks together and sorting this out. There are better ways than arguing, especially in the beautiful establishment of a beautiful woman. Now, aren�t you embarrassed about the way you are both acting?�

�No, not really,� Aeryn said. �If I�m going to buy this fellow a drink ...�

�I suppose it was a bit presumptuous,� Oswald conceded. �But when I saw you racing up behind us, I suspected the worse. You don�t exactly look like��

�You panicked!� Aeryn said, refusing to let it go. �You soiled your britches and you drove off in a huff, didn�t you?�

�Now, there is no need to press and issue, especially when one bursts into a room like he was a bandit,� I said.

�Oh, c�mon.�

�Ah.�

�Relax.�

�Ah.�

�Relax. It was a little joke.�

�It was a little joke.�

�It was a little joke.�

�But there�s no need to embarrass a man in public.�

�Orrin�s sitting on the porch, laughing.�

�Orrin cannot drive a wagon to save his life apparently.�

Orrin came in just then. He slapped his hand on the teamster�s shoulder.

�No hard feeling, mates,� he said. �How �bout we buy you a round?�

�Or perhaps two,� I said.

�Yeah, perhaps two!�

�Your associate is a generous man,� I said to Aeryn.

He frowned.

�That�s fine,� he said. �That�s fine. He�s a very generous sort, isn�t he?�

He noted I had Tavian with me.

�Yes, Tavian is guilty of loving too much,� I said.

�Yeah, we heard him shouting that,� Aeryn said. �What the hell does that mean?�

�Tavian could probably tell you his story,� I said. �Go ahead, Tavian, tell him your story. You must be patient though.�

�I was in the stocks,� Tavian said quietly.

�It�s very fascinating, is it not?� I said.

�You let him out?� Aeryn asked.

�He�s in my charge,� I said.

�He�s a very generous man,� Tavian piped up. �Olidammara�s known to be very generous.�

�Especially with food and drink. And women.�

Eriks D&D Game: Plague at Goblin's Tooth Part 1-2: It Begins

Max_Writer — Sat, 06 Oct 2012 19:18:17 GMT

Edvard started to violently cough. I asked if he was all right and patted him on the back.

�Thank you,� he said, his coughing subsiding. �Thank you.�

I noticed blood on his hand. He had coughed it up. He wiped his hands together.

�Are you all right?� I asked. �It looks as though you have coughed up blood. This could be something very serious.�

�I don�t know what you mean,� he said, coughing again.

�I am a priest and I am versed in the healing arts. I might be able to help you.�

�I don�t need any help. I am beyond help.�

�No one is beyond help. I will not acknowledge that! Perhaps I could help you?�

�No. No.�

He pushed the mug away and got up, staggering out of the tavern. I looked towards Rebecca. She furrowed her brown and picked up the mug, wiping it out.

�He coughed up blood,� I said to her. �Is he in ill health?�

�He�s been in ill health for a while now, yeah,� she said.

�What is wrong with him, do you know?�

�The poor man misses his brother, and he blames himself for his death.�

�His brother is dead?�

�Aye.�

Aeryn and Orrin had bought drinks for everyone in the bar, myself included.

�I�m not a bloody dwarf!� the dwarf suddenly shouted.

�Oh, sorry Rumdan,� Rebecca said to him.

The person sitting at the table was actually an exceptionally short man, not a dwarf.

Aeryn ordered food for himself but, for the life of me, I couldn�t understand the rural accents of both him and Rebecca as they talked. Marzena also entered the tavern. I could understand her very well when she ordered bread and butter. The man then ordered a bottle of brandy and seemed to be flirting with the innkeeper. She left for a short while and returned with a bottle. He paid 15 gold coins for the entire bottle.

Then he invited her to have a drink with him.

�It�s barely noon,� she said. �You think you can hold it? It�s barely noon.�

�I don�t know about that,� Aeryn replied. �I don�t think that bottle of brandy�s goin� t� make it �til sundown. You going to have a drink with us love, you might want to have one now.�

�Very well,� she said.

He went back to the table, motioning me to come. I thanked him.

Tavian and I joined him, Orrin, and Marzena at the table. Rebecca also joined us for a glass of the brandy. Marzena pushed her brandy away but Aeryn admonished her and she took it with a nod. She held up her mug and looked at the man.

�Right,� Aeryn said. �Here�s to profitable adventures.�

We tapped our glasses together and I sipped from mine. It was delicious and as good as anything I�d ever drunk in Sharn, warming me as it went down. I sighed contentedly as Marzena coughed over her drink and Aeryn gasped its potency. Orrin drank down the entire glass. He was horse after that.

�This is exquisite,� I said.

�Smooth is not exactly the word I was looking for,� Rebecca gasped.

�Like melted butter,� Aeryn said. �Anyone fancy another?�

�As long as it�s here,� I said.

�Where�s your mug, mate?� Aeryn said to Orrin.

The other man drew out a gem-encrusted, gold-inlaid stein.

�That�s what I�m talking about,� Aeryn said.

He poured a large amount of the brandy into the mug.

�You earned that, mate,� Aeryn said.

�Yeah, I did,� the other man said.

He didn�t drink it down but took a long swig of the brandy.

�Damn Rebecca, that�s some good stuff,� he said.

Tavian reached across for Marzena�s glass and both Aeryn and I slapped his hand at the same time.

�Now Tavian, if a beautiful woman does not wish to drink, then you allow her to sit with her glass,� I said to him.

�But, she�s not drinking it,� he whispered to me.

�But it is still hers.�

�But, she�s��

�Ah! Behave yourself and you will have some later.�

�I�ll let you smell the bottle when it�s empty, mate,� Aeryn said to him.

�If she wishes to offer it to you, you make take it,� I whispered to Tavian. �Otherwise ...�

Marzena pushed her mug towards the middle of the table. I looked at the woman and she made no protest. I took the glass and put it in front of Tavian, whereupon Aeryn picked up the glass and slid it over in front of Orrin. He grabbed it and drank it down. He slid the glass back to Tavian.

Rebecca left after her first drink.

�Oi, Becca!� Aeryn called to her. �One day, I�ll come back, and when I do, I�ll rent the whole tavern out for the whole day and you can drink with us all day long; not have to worry about not customers, how about that?�

�Careful lad,� she said. �I�ll hold ye to that. You might not be surprised by how that turns out, either.�

�Why not? I don�t exactly know what you mean by that.�

�I believe she means she will ... sex,� I whispered to him. �She�s talking about sex.�

�Yeah, I know exactly what she�s talking about,� he said. �You can�t let on you know what she�s talking about. You got to keep the intrigue up.�

�Oh, please teach me more about women.�

�You got to seem untouchable, unreachable. You got to make �em want you.�

I looked at Marzena.

�He is so wise in the way of women,� I said. Then to him �Tell me more.�

She raised an eyebrow.

He talked for the next hour about the women he�d known in the past, his amateurish attempts at attracting them, and how it had all allegedly worked out. He was quite graphic. Marzena turned red on occasion but, by that time, the other man had noticed that as well and so continued his inappropriate tirade. The last time she blushed, she smiled and shook her head.

He also discussed the adventure the three of them had just had in the woods, though he avoided talking about his actual past. He was not completely honest about the women he was talking about but his tales of recent adventures seemed to be completely true.

He finished his stories of women with a story of a girl named Daphne who he ran down the street to save from zombies.

�That�s all it took,� he finished.

�Daphne?� I asked. �Where was this?�

�What do you mean, Daphne?� Tavian said.

�Where was this?� I asked again.

�Is your lass named Daphne?� Aeryn asked Tavian. �Well, lass was a little bit generous.�

�Where was this?� I asked again.

�Yeah, where was this?� Tavian echoed me.

�Nowhere near here,� Aeryn said. �Why?�

�Oh,� Tavian said.

When I had drunk about half of my last glass of brandy, I gave the rest to the youth. He drank it down and coughed loudly.

�This is really good!� he hissed through watering eyes.

�See, wasn�t that better?� I said.

He continued to sip his brandy.

We spent the day in the tavern. Aeryn bought three rounds for everyone in the bar but continued to buy drinks for the table. Tavian fell asleep, his head on the table, but occasionally woke up and looked around. Marzena sipped at mead.

When Rumdan left, I saw that he was very, very short. It was no wonder he was confused for a dwarf. I learned from the others that he was a tradesman in the village.

�I�m surprised he had any coin left to come over here and buy anything,� Aeryn said.

�Why is that?� I asked.

�Because we just cleaned him out,� he said.

Later a dwarf did come in, who Rebecca told me was Marr. Aeryn bought him a drink in honor of his wife�s imminent birth. The dwarf glared at him.

�It�s a free drink,� Aeryn said.

�Thank you,� Marr said and then walked away.

Aeryn and Orrin chattered away in their incomprehensible rural accent. I tried to figure out what they were talking about but often couldn�t follow the conversation. They were talking about an axe handle. Apparently they had found an axe head and the dwarf was making an axe handle for him. Then they realized they had not had a dwarf make a handle for the axe head they found, so they had gotten someone else to do it. They were not sure if the axe was magical and I offered to find out for them if they wanted.

�Are you some kind of wizard or sorcerer or something?� Orrin asked.

�No, I am a priest,� I said.

�We already got one o� those,� he continued, pointing at Marzena.

She glared at the man and then blushed.

�I am merely a priest,� I said. �A humble servant of Olidammara.�

�You have anything with that magic that would, I don�t know, scare all the patrons in here,� Aeryn said to Marzena. �Give �em a good half-over.�

�I�m not going to do that,� she said.

�Oh, c�mon,� he said.

�You do know you will probably be wintering in this town,� I said.

�No, no,� he said. �We�re not staying.�

�Oh.�

�There�s nothing here for us.�

�I see. Then do as you wish.�

�Of course.�

�Why do you wish to scare the patrons all the time?�

�It�s so funny.�

�Ah, well, I ... you want the people of this town to hate you?�

�They don�t hate me. I just bought �em all drinks.�

�I see.�

�I single-handedly rescued this town from poverty.�

�Hey!� Orrin said. �Single-handedly?�

�Well, I�m sorry, but I�m the one that�s spending all the money that we worked so hard to get,� Aeryn said.

�That just means you spent all the money,� Orrin went on. �Not that you did all the bloody work.�

They began to argue about the use of the term �single-handedly� in their incomprehensible accents. Aeryn finally conceded.

�Me and my mates single-handedly saved this town from poverty just today,� he said.

�Really, if you think about it, we didn�t really save this town from poverty,� Orrin said. �We just sort of took some money from somewhere else and are spreading it around town.�

�Redistributing the wealth,� I said.

�Aye, it�s redistributing the wealth,� Orrin agreed. �You know.�

�Who the hell are you and what have you done with Orrin?� Aeryn asked.

�Drink always makes me smart!� Orrin said.

�What of your companion here, Marzena?� I asked.

�What of her?� Aeryn said.

�You have not mentioned her single-handedly, or multi-handedly, saving the town from poverty.�

�I�d talk about her multi-handedly all night long,� Aeryn quipped. �But that�s not my place. I told you earlier mate, she can take care of herself.�

�Yes yes, and I believe it. She seems more than capable.�

�She pulled out fat out of the fire a couple of times.�

�And to answer your original question: no, I am not a wizard but a humble priest of Olidammara. There are certain things that I can do.�

�Humble priest?�

He looked at me.

�Anyway, Marzena and I have an understanding,� he said.

I looked at him.

�And ... it is?� I finally asked.

�Our understanding,� Marzena said.

�Yeah, our understanding!� he echoed her. �We�re like travelling companions, adventuring souls. That sort of thing is off limits. You know, it complicates things.�

�What sort of�?�

�So I don�t even try because, one: I�d probably get slapped in the face.�

�You don�t try what?�

�Two: out of respect for her.�

�You know that I�m right here, don�t you?� Marzena said.

�Course I know you�re right here!� Aeryn said.

�Oh! You are talking about sex again,� I said. �Do you ever talk about something beside sex?�

Aeryn was still defending himself, claiming it was better to talk in front of the woman�s face than behind her back. She said she was going to the inn.

�Wonderful,� I muttered to him. �You have driven away the most beautiful woman in the tavern.�

�I�m good at that,� he said.

�Apparently!�

�Yes, it�s one of me few talents. I have so much fun with her.�

�One of the most beautiful, but not the only beautiful,� Orrin muttered.

�No, I did not say �only,�� I said.

Other villages also entered the tavern. I noticed that many of the people in the bar were coughing. I waved Rebecca over when she was not very busy.

�Is there a sickness in this town?� I asked her.

�I don�t believe so, lad,� she said.

I looked at the coughing patrons of her tavern.

�Are you sure?� I asked.

She looked around and frowned.

Later in the evening, Aeryn asked Rebecca to send a boy to the inn with a message. After some confusion he sent some money to the inn so that Marzena could have a nice dinner. He opened a pouch and opened it up, pouring out several gemstones. Then he put it away and took out a pouch of gold coins. Orrin suggested we get a booth if he was going to be throwing money around. He didn�t know what to be worried about and when the man said it wasn�t wise to flash their money about, he noted that Orrin could take anyone in the town. I pointed out that if he was asleep, he would not be able to thump on them on the head. Aeryn claimed that the man slept with one eye open.

�Like a hawk,� he said. �Like an owl at night. No one can get the drop on him.�

Orrin had put his head in his hand and a snore issued from his lips.

�See what I mean,� Aeryn said, grasping at straws. �His eyes are open.�

�Put the gems away,� I said.

The man did so.

�Even honest men can be tempted by too much wealth,� I said.

�That�s not too much wealth,� Aeryn replied.

�For a town this size, that would purchase most of it.�

No one seemed to be paying him any attention, though. Many people had bad coughs, however.

�I�m only saying that if the people of this town survive whatever plague seems to be striking, that even honest people might go to some lengths to get money that would set them up for the rest of their lives,� I said. �It is merely prudent not to flaunt your wealth.�

He argued that he was not flaunting his wealth, but I ignored him and asked if the people of the village had been so sickly since they�d arrived. It took Aeryn and Orrin some time to determine when they had come to the village, though it had been several days. They had not noticed the people coughing before that very evening.

I called Rebecca over when she was not busy once again. I again asked her about the number of people coughing. She had only recently noticed it but was unsure of what it could be.

�You know what�s good for a cough?� Aeryn asked her. �Me. If you got a little tickle in your throat.�

She patted him on the cheek.

�That doesn�t make any sense,� she said.

Then she went on her way.

Shortly after that, a gentleman entered the inn. He carried a lute and walked to the stage, where he introduced himself as Gerald Chentier. He began performing and he was quite good. The longer he sang, however, the more he would interrupt himself coughing. Rebecca seemed concerned about it and went over to the man to talk to him. He waved her off though he did take the ale she brought him. I asked if anyone at the table had noticed the coughing before, but they said they hadn�t. I pointed out that the grocer had coughed up blood.

�There is some disease striking this town,� I said.

�Well, we�d better get out of here,� Aeryn said. �I don�t want to get sick.�

�If you so desire,� I said.

�We could be packed up as early as tomorrow morning, yeah? I mean, we�ve got a wagon now. Got all our winter gear.�

�Why don�t we leave that wagon?� Orrin said.

�What?�

�Why don�t we leave that wagon?�

�It�s right out front.�

�It is?�

�Isn�t it? You were driving it.�

�I wasn�t really driving it. I was just kind of leading the horses.�

�Well, where did you lead �em to?�

Orrin stared at the man.

�Cor, mate!� Aeryn said.

He stood up and staggered out the front door.

I nudged Tavian awake and gave him the remaining cheese and bread on my plate. I asked him if he�d noticed people coughing in town and sickly folk. He said he hadn�t.

�Come, we will be back shortly,� I said. �We�re going to talk to the priest. We will be back shortly.�

Just then the song broke off and Gerald Chentier started to cough violently and uncontrollably. He fell to his knees as I rushed to the stage. Blood was in his hand. Rebecca had also run to the bard�s side. Others in the tavern stood. There was a ruckus in the bar and Aeryn talked to several villagers. Then people started to vacate the premises with speed. Gerald looked like he was very sick. I got the man to drink some ale, but he continued coughing. He spit bloody phlegm.

�Have you been sick?� I asked him.

�No, I just got a small cough once the weather turned,� he said.

Tavian had fled with most of the other patrons. Perhaps three townsfolk were left in the tavern. Orrin and Aeryn were discussing whether or not to abandon the town to the sickness. I saw that Edvard sat at the bar so I approached him. He coughed mightily.

�How long have you had this cough?� I asked him.

�What cough?� he said. �What do you mean?�

I merely looked at the man until he coughed again.

�That would be the one!� I said. �And the blood that came out into your hand. Yes, I saw that too.�

�Uh ... it�s just the drink,� he said. �Just let me have my drink.�

�No, it�s not the drink; there is more to it because others are also sick. Now, it is important that you tell me how long you have had this cough. It could be dangerous.�

�I don�t know. I don�t know. Maybe a day or two.� He coughed again. �It doesn�t matter. Let me have my drink. Leave me in peace.�

�My friend, I understand despair and I understand loss. You cannot let it destroy you. There are those who depend on you.�

I left the man and questioned Rebecca about the sickness. She said that it was the first she�d noticed it. She noted that she hadn�t seen Gerald in a few days. I found out from Gerald that he had been �around.� When I pressed, he admitted that he�d been to the lumber camps and the farms in the area. He had noticed some people coughing in the lumber camps. However, he�d only returned to the village around noon.

I told Aeryn and Orrin what little I�d learned. Aeryn told me someone had called it the �Black Scour.� The term was associated with a rare type of fungus, I told him. It grew in damp conditions but I knew little else. I asked Rebecca if she knew of it but she knew little more of it than I. She said that it had not been heard of in Goblin�s Tooth in years. When I asked what happened to people who caught it, she said not everybody died.

�With us being short of supplies and all, and the harvest not being good, I don�t know,� she said. �I�m worried. We should get these folks to the temple, or maybe even to Lorel the Herbalist.�

We took Gerald to the wagon and headed for the temple. I called for Aeryn and Orrin to bring Edvard as well. A few moments later, Aeryn led Edvard out and got him into the wagon. When we reached the temple, there were others already there, all of them coughing. I found the temple priest giving the afflicted towels and water. His acolytes were doing the same.

The priest was perhaps the most gaunt person I�d ever seen, looking like a scarecrow in vestments. The way his sunken eyes and beaked nose peered out from below his tonsured brow only added to the effect. He wore a sun disk amulet on his neck: the symbol of Pelor.

�Hello priest, I am Porthos, priest of Olidammara,� I said.

�Greetings ... a priest of revelry and thieves,� he said. �We could use some joy here tonight. Sick men. You know any songs?�

�A few,� I admitted. �But they might not be appropriate. What is going on here with these people?�

�I don�t know. They seemed to have developed a terrible coughing sickness.�

�Someone mentioned the black ... scour?� I looked at Aeryn.

�Scour,� he said with a nod.

�It could be but I�ve not seen it in years,� the priest said.

�Are the symptoms correct for this ... fungus or whatever it is?� I asked. �It is not catching, it is?�

�No, it shouldn�t be.�

�Then there must be something in the food or drink of this town.�

Aeryn had reached into his mouth to pick his teeth. He stopped in mid-motion.

�I don�t truly know much about it,� the priest said.

�That�s horrible,� Aeryn said quietly.

�I�m trying to treat the symptoms,� the priest went on.

An older gentlemen lying on the pallet coughed violently. Blood came from his mouth. I went over and struck him in the back, which didn�t help. Then I cast a minor healing spell upon him, relieving his terrible cough for the moment as bloody, bubbly phlegm was dislodged. There might have been bits of flesh mixed in as well. His coughing settled, though he still looked ill. I cast a more powerful spell, and he seemed to subside, falling into sleep. I unbuttoned his shirt and listened to his chest. The man wheezed as he breathed.

I returned to the priest and related what had just happened.

�We need to keep these people separated,� he said. �I�m not sure if this is the black scour or the wheezing death.�

The wheezing death was a terribly contagious disease that was spread through the air, flying from one to another faster, sometimes, than a man could run. Orrin began to complain of what to do with the now-contaminated wagon. I told him that if he was going to catch the disease, he would have caught it already. I turned back to the priest.

�What?� he said. He turned to Aeryn. �If I start coughing a lot ...� Then he thought for a moment. �Don�t do anything, actually. Just bring me to the damned priest.�

�He�s a priest,� Aeryn said, pointing at me.

�A real priest,� Orrin said.

�What!?!� I cried, turning on them. �I am a real priest!�

�Really? You don�t act much like a priest.�

�How are priests supposed to act?�

�Like him,� Aeryn said, pointing at the temple priest.

I grunted and turned back to the priest. I asked if he had the magical powers to deal with what was happening. He confessed that he wasn�t sure, but he would try. When I asked if he could actually cast the spell to magically cure the people of their diseases, he admitted that he could not. I also was not powerful enough, yet, to cast the spell.

Orrin and Aeryn quietly discussed what they should do about the wagon, with some discussion of ripping out the boards that the people had touched. Aeryn was of the opinion that they could burn the wagon �a little bit.�

�Do not forget to burn all of your clothes and all of the possessions that were on your body when this happened,� I said, sarcastically. �They must all be destroyed.� I looked at them for a moment. �You either have the disease now, or you do not. If you not, you will probably not catch it. If you do have it, you have it.�

I went back to trying to help out the sick in the temple.

�That wasn�t a very jovial, cheerful, party-going sort of attitude, was it?� I heard Aeryn say.

�He�s not a priest,� Orrin muttered.

The old man started coughing again and I examined the phlegm more closely. I could see little black specks mixed in with the blood and mucus. I pointed them out to the temple priest and he said that was more along the lines of the black scour, leading me to believe that the fungus was in the local water or food. He agreed with that likelihood, guessing it was an outbreak of blood scour taint.

Some of the villagers were talking of going to Lorel the Herbalist.

When I asked the priest about any kind of library or place of learning in the town that might have information on the condition, he mentioned that Lorel, with her poultices and potions, might have some more information about the black scour. I asked him where she lived and he told me that she lived outside of town to the north. I told him that I would question her.

I told Orrin and Aeryn that the outbreak looked like the black scour. The priest was unsure of how it was transmitted and Aeryn mentioned talking to the herbalist. I told him that was my plan and I told them she lived north of town.

�It is not the wheezing death,� I mentioned. �You do not have to burn your wagon. Or run away.�

I swept past them and headed out the door, going down the road and heading for the north side of the village. The men�s wagon soon pulled up beside me and Orrin asked if I wanted a ride. I hopped into the back. As we passed more coughing people, some of them started to climb onto the wagon as well. I helped them as Aeryn told them to try not to cough up anything onto the vehicle. I leapt off at one point to help a little girl on, and helped up other children as well. There seemed to be quite a few of them. I entertained them with humorous stories of Olidammara, and played small games with them. Aeryn and Orrin discussed the possibility of starting a lucrative business using the wagon to take sick people to the doctor. Aeryn figured that both the sick person and the doctor would pay. It was appalling.

A short way out of town, a line formed in front of a small building. Creeping ivy and full window boxes covered the fa�ade of the rugged looking, two-story house and shop bearing the faded sign that read �Roots and Remedies.� The line consisted of 10 or 20 somber townsfolk, some with pale, wheezing children, others near tears.

Aeryn stopped the wagon near the building and I hopped out and helped the women and children out of the vehicle. I said words of encouragement to all of them.

�He�s acting like a priest,� I heard Aeryn say quietly.

�A little bit,� Orrin replied.

�Comes and goes,� Aeryn said.

I ignored the morons and headed for the door.

�I say!� a man said as I passed him. He spoke between coughs. �See here! You can�t go ahead of all of us! Who do you think you are!?!�

�I�m a priest, my good man,� I said.

�I don�t care!�

�Here,� I said, casting a healing spell upon him.

�There�s a back of the line!� he muttered over his coughing.

�Here, you lot!� Aeryn called. �Listen up! Listen up! This man�s here to try to help with your remedy, right? He�s here to help out. He�s not getting in line, he�s not sick, he�s not coughing.�

�Lorel�s going to help us, we know who she is!� the man said.

�Yeah, well she could probably use a hand herself. And that�s what he�s here for.�

�Now, stand aside,� I said.

The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense choked the air of the cramped mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, and alchemical apparatuses and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner of dry, preserved, and jellied animal parts filled high shelves and tables, doing double duty as displays and work spaces. In the shop�s rear, a rail-thin woman with severe-looking eyes and hair pulled back tightly busied herself between an over packed rack of herbs, a table covered in strange powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly bubbling with thick, gray froth. Over the din of her work, and without looking up, she impatiently shouted �And what�s your problem?�

�I�m a priest,� I said. �I am here to lend aid and find out if you know what is going on with these people.�

�You know anything of herbs and poultices, priest?� she asked.

I hesitated.

�As I thought,� she said. �Step outside unless you can do some good.�

�What are you doing to these people as far as herbs and poultices?� I asked.

�I�m trying to help. Brew some teas if I can. Try to curb the coughs.�

�This appears to be the black scour.�

�As if you�re telling me something that I don�t know.�

�Ah. Then, as an herbalist, you know how to help these people?�

�I am helping these people. Are you sick? Why are you here?�

�We came to help, because we were told by the priest of Pelor, he never introduced himself, that you might be able to help these people.�

�I hope so.�

�If it is the black scour, what is the cure? Is there a cure?�

�It is the black scour but there is no cure around here. I�ll give these folks what I can and we�ll see what good it does.�

�How can we help?�

�What do you mean the cure�s not around here?� Aeryn asked.

�I mean it�s not around here,� she said.

�Where is it?�

�My grandmother�s book has a brew in it that says it�s good for this kind of thing. A very weird concoction sounds more like hoodoo than real medicine.�

�Is it possible that it would work?� I asked.

�I don�t know,� she said. �It says that it would. And her book has been good for things in the past.�

�Well, what do you need and where can we find it?�

�Well, there are some rare roots in concentrations, most of which I have here, but well, there�s three that I don�t. Elderwood moss, which I�ve never even heard of, but grandmother�s book says that it only grows in the oldest tree in the forest. A specially pickled root called rat�s tail? Again, that sounds more like hoodoo to me. And seven ironbloom mushrooms; those are stunted little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal. Favorite among dwarves, so I�ve heard.�

�Dwarves,� I muttered. I looked at Aeryn. �Marr.�

�We�ll have to ask him,� Aeryn said.

�Pickled root,� I said. Then to Aeryn. �Is not your friend an elf?�

�What? What�d you just say?�

�Marzena?�

�What about her?�

�That�s a personal question. Maybe you ought to take that up with her.�

�Very well. She�s at the inn. I will go right now.�

�All right.�

�Elves know of the trees and the roots and the woods.�

�Aren�t we in the middle of something?� Orrin asked.

�Yes, and perhaps she will be able to help us,� I said. �I know very little of herbs.�

�I know nothing of herbs,� Aeryn said.

�Elderwood moss,� I said.

�Oldest tree in the woods?� Aeryn said.

�Yes,� Lorel replied. �If such a thing even ... this all sounds like foolishness to me. My tea should help settle these people�s coughs and most should live.�

�Most,� I said. �Half? Three-quarters? Ten percent?�

�I can�t say. It depends on healthy a person is. But we are short of food and supplies.�

�If we could find these ingredients, you could make this ... is it a poultice, a tea, potion?�

�Yes, I suppose I could.�

�If we could find these things and bring them back in time ...�

�We don�t have any time. Folks may be dying every day.�

She looked around.

�All we can hope to do now is treat who we can and hope to save the gravedigger some work,� she said.

�Not if we can find these ingredients,� I replied. �And perhaps your grandmother was not incorrect in what she wrote. Might I look at the book where it references these things, with your permission, my fair lady.�

�Why do you need to see it?�

�Perhaps there is some clue that you overlooked. Perhaps there is some clue to where these things are or more detail. Just the page. I don�t want your secrets.�

�For elderwood moss, that�s got to be on an old tree in the vale, damned if I know where it is though. The rat�s tail and the mushrooms, those are even longer shots. Way north, towards the mountains. People say there used to live several dwarves there. They�re not there anymore, but I bet their forges are and if you can find ironbloom anywhere around here, that�d be your best bet. As for the rat�s tail, who knows? Well actually, wait, Oolas Meela, the witch that lives deep in the woods might. She�s crafty and mean, but she knows all sorts of strangeness. She might even have one. I don�t know what she�d want for it, but I doubt it�d come cheap.�

�I know what she will want,� I sighed.

�My grandmother traded her sight to the old crone for a few pages of what she knew,� the herbalist went on. �And that was years and years back, and I don�t know a soul who got any nicer as she got older.�

She looked at me.

�Will you do this thing?� she asked.

�It cannot hurt,� I replied. �I will do this, yes. You treat the people as best you can, and I will try to find these things and get back as quickly as possible.�

Aeryn pulled the herbalist aside and spoke to her quietly. Then I asked the woman if she knew any more detail on the location of the witch. She did not.

�Marzena might know,� Aeryn said.

�Is she from around here?� I asked. �Oh, I�m sorry. It is a personal question.�

�No, you asked me if she was an elf.�

�Yes, and I figured��

�So, that�s a personal question.�

�-asking if she was from around here would be a personal question. Why don�t we ask her? If you do not think it too personal a question.�

�I do not know much of any of these things,� Lorel said. �I do not know where Oolas Meela�s hut is. I know that the dwarves used to be to the north. If anyone might know, maybe someone in the main lumber camp.�

The three of us took the wagon back to town. We passed more villagers leaving the town to talk to Lorel. Halfway back to town, I realized I wanted to ask Lorel if she had any idea where the scourge started, where it might have come from, and if it was caught from others. I ran back to ask her. She noted that it was a mold that started growing inside of a victim�s chest and stomach.

�Your body nearly turns itself inside out trying to hack the stuff up,� she said. �All that does is cut your guts up, bad.�

She didn�t think that the disease could be caught from others, but noted that it could be gotten from drinking or eating something with the black scour mushroom in it. She said if it was in the water than it got one sick by drinking it. She had never heard of it growing in the area though. She also told me that there was a well in the village.

I ran back to the village and, when I arrived, headed for the well. I drew some water and then lit a candle and stuck it between two of the stones that made up the wall of the well. It did not give off much light but I closely examined the water and noticed tiny black flecks within. Aeryn, Orrin, and Marzena walked up to me and I pointed out the flecks, asking if either of them had been drinking the water in the village or bathing.

�No,� Aeryn said.

�Hell no,� Orrin said. �I never drink the water. Never bathe. If I can help it.�

�Smart man,� I said.

We went to the guard house after that and I introduced myself to the deputies on duty. I told them that the black scour appeared to be in the well. They told me they already knew and Sir Derrick had already been informed. I apologized for wasting their time.

�No waste,� one of them said. �It was the first thing Sir Derrick thought of. He�s sending two guards to stand by the well, make sure no one goes to it.�

I asked them to pass on the information that some of us were going to try to go find a cure.

�Is Rosby, or even Lorel, are either one of them able to help?� the deputy asked.

�Lorel might be able to help with the symptoms,� I said. �We are going to try to find something to stop it. Who is Rosby?�

�He�s the head of the temple,� the deputy said. �The priest.�

�Could you tell Rosby we are going to try to help?�

�I�m not your errand boy. Do it yourself.�

I sighed.

�Every moment that we stand here talking about it, is one more life at risk,� I said.

�Indeed,� the impudent deputy said. �So, you better make your feet start stepping.�

I asked the man�s name. He said it was Bedwere.

I ran to the temple and alerted Rosby to what we were doing.

�Weird magicks,� he muttered. �Not even real magic.�

�No, it�s not magic,� I said. �It�s alchemy. It is our only hope.�

�If you think that it will help.�

�I do not know, but we will try.�

�It cannot hurt. People will start dying soon if we�re not careful.�

�Then be careful.�

With a swish of my cloak, I was off. I found an imposing-looking man dressed in mail in the market. He had a sword on his hip and a tabard over his armor. He and the other deputies were trying to keep order. Their symbol was an arrowhead that looked similar to the one of the guards at Cambol-T�r, though it was obviously different. I found the others at their wagon and asked if they had food and provisions. Aeryn said they did not yet have any.

Eriks D&D Game: Plague at Goblin's Tooth Part 1-3: Horses

Max_Writer — Sat, 06 Oct 2012 19:16:46 GMT

�Horses is what we need,� Aeryn said.

I sucked in my breath between my teeth. I had never liked riding.

�We have these,� Marzena said, gesturing at the draft horses.

�Riding horses,� Aeryn said.

I sucked my breath in between my teeth again.

�We could ride these,� Marzena said.

I sucked on my teeth again.

�They�re slow!� Aeryn said.

�Perhaps we should just walk,� I said.

�What do you mean, walk?�

�I mean ...�

I sucked the breath in through my teeth again.

�What is wrong with you?� he asked. �Are you afraid of horses?�

�Not afraid!� I said, a little too loudly. �I give them a healthy distance and the respect that they deserve. They kick. I�ve seen them kick. They kick certain places.�

�Not if you�re riding on them. They can�t kick you.�

�Dwarves do not trust horses either. There�s nothing wrong with it.�

�Unless you want to get somewhere in a hurry to save a town from dying. Then there is something wrong with it.�

I sucked in a breath between my teeth again.

�Horses,� Aeryn said. �Riding horses. Need �em.�

�I hope you have more money than I because I cannot afford to purchase a horse,� I said.

�Obviously I have more money than you,� he replied.

�Yes, you�ve been buying drinks all night.�

�Yeah.�

�Thank you, by the way. I think I have thanked you a couple of times, but thank you again. I cannot afford a horse. I will jog alongside if need be. Perhaps a dog cart, I don�t know.�

We walked to the stables.

The stable master was an old man who liked, perpetually, to talk.

�How my horses treatin� you?� he asked Aeryn. �You not mistreatin� them, is you? Poor old Rolf couldn�t stand it if you was mistreatin� my horses.�

�What you mean mistreatin� your horses,� Aeryn said. �They�re my horses, actually, because I bought and paid for �em.�

�Ah, but I solds �em to you, so I still think of them like mine.�

�Well, they�re not yours and I�ve treated �em quite well.�

�I have seen this,� I interrupted.

�What can I do for you then?� Rolf asked.

�I need four riding horses,� Aeryn said.

�You need four, is that it?�

�Look mate, we�re in a bit of a hurry too, okay?�

�I believe I have three for sale. Light riding horses, you need?�

�Yeah.�

�You can ride one of those horses I sold you already.�

�Do you have a stepladder so that we can get up on it?� I asked.

�I have a little small stepstool if you need it,� Rolf replied.

�Do you have somethin� against gold?� Aeryn asked the man.

�No, I don�t,� he said.

�Then let me give you gold for horses.�

�Aye.�

�That�s what�s getting ready to happen here.�

�He only has three,� I interjected.

�You win either way� Aeryn said.

�He only has three,� I said again.

�It will be ...� Rolf said. He counted on his fingers. �Let me see.�

�How many horses do you have?� Aeryn asked.

�I have tree.�

�He only has three horses,� I said.

�You only have three?� Aeryn asked.

�Aye,� the old man replied.

�I can run alongside,� I said again. �I will be fine.�

�Wait a minute. You only have three for sale?� Aeryn pressed. �Or you only have three here?�

�I only have three riding horses,� Rolf said.

�Oh dear,� I said. �Do you have anything else besides riding horses ... that actually you can ride?�

�I have a couple of ponies and a couple of the larger horses,� Rolf said.

I sighed.

�Which of the larger horses is the fastest?� Aeryn asked.

�None of them,� I muttered.

�Speed is of the essence,� Aeryn said.

�Probably one of the two that I sold you already,� Rolf said. �You wanted some of the best horses I had and I solds �em to you.�

�Now we need more,� Aeryn said. �Fast. Fast horses.�

�It will be ...� Rolf said, again counting on his fingers. �Carry the one ... it will be 225 gold crowns for the horses.�

�Is there any discount for saving the entire town from death and destruction?� I said.

�Yes, you get the knowledge that you saved the town,� the old man said.

�Are tack and harness included in your price?�

�Aye. Why not? You�re saving the town, so you claim. How do I know you�re not taking poor old Rolf�s horses and riding off for who knows where?

�At least the horses will be saved,� I muttered.

�I can honestly say that we are taking your horses and we are riding off to who knows where,� Aeryn said. �The difference is that we�re coming back with somefing that�s supposed to cure the whole town.�

�So you say,� Rolf said.

�Yeah. Exactly.�

�Comes to 250.�

�That is more than you just quoted us,� I said.

�Is it?�

�Two-two-five.�

�I�m not very good with coins. I�ll say 250.�

�But you said 225.�

�Did I not say 275? It�s 275, isn�t it?�

�No, my friend. You said 200.�

�This is bargaining completely the wrong way!� Aeryn suddenly said. �I don�t understand what�s happening! We don�t have time for this.�

Aeryn pulled out the small pouch and dumped the gems he�d flashed in the tavern into the man�s hand. There were three large gemstones and I felt my jaw drop.

�I don�t know how to count these,� the old man said quietly. �But I�ll put them against the horses.�

�And when we come back, we will trade you back,� I said. �Fair enough?�

�If the horses are in good condition, I�ll buys �em back,� he said.

Rolf got the horses saddled up. I filled four saddlebags with oats from the trough nearby.

�Why don�t you go buy us some hardtack and beef jerky?� I said to Orrin.

�Sure we shouldn�t just sleep tonight and head out in the morning?� he asked.

�We don�t know where we�re going. Anyone in town have maps, anyway of knowing even ... north. That�s all we know: north. That�s all we know. Correct? For the dwarven place?�

�If you want to know anything about the woods, where you�re headed, I say you go to one of the main lumber camps,� Rolf said.

�That�s where we got to go,� Aeryn said. �We got to go to the main logging camp and talk to them about the oldest tree in the wood.�

I asked Rolf where the camps might be and he said they were north. Then he told Aeryn that it would cost two gold for him to keep the other draft horse for a week.

�After that, I�ll say he�s mine and you�re dead,� he said.

�We�ll pay you two gold when we get back,� Aeryn said.

�Aye,� the old man replied. �If you�re not back in a week, I�ll say you�re dead and the horse is mine.�

�If does return after that can he pay an additional gold piece a week to get his horse back?� I asked. �Does that sound fair. If he comes back alive. Only him.�

�We�ll see.�

�If I come back, it does not matter. I cannot get the horse for that bargain price. Fair enough?�

�If you come back, two gold for every week that you�re gone.�

�Right,� Aeryn said.

�And you can have the horse back,� Rolf finished.

�Fair enough,� I said. �I didn�t catch your name. I am Porthos.�

I held out a gloved hand and he shook it.

�Poor old Rolf,� he said. �That�s my name.�

We found Orrin, who had water skins and food for the trip. We mounted the horses in the square.

�People of ... what is this place ... Goblin�s Tooth!� I shouted.

�Really?� Aeryn said.

�We go to seek a cure!� I called, waving my hat over my head. �Onward!�

�Halt!� Sir Derrick said. �Are you men headed out of town? For what cause? Is it true that you�re going to find a cure?�

�We are going to try, yes,� I said.

�Where are you headed?�

�North.�

�Lumber camp first,� Aeryn said. �See if we can�t get some information on the oldest tree in the woods.�

�Ah,� Sir Derrick said. �If it�s true, what you�re saying, be wary. Jarlbin Trooks is a stern and untrusting man. Ask for Millan Radam. He�s the best tracker I know. And he works there.�

�All right,� Aeryn said. �Thank you, sir.�

�And godspeed you.�

�Hope so.�

�We will do our best!� I said dramatically.

I put my heels to the horse�s side and galloped out of town, holding on for dear life. Once I was out of sight of the hedge, I slowed the beast a little. We rode north for over an hour and it was midnight by the time we reached the lumber camp.

It cut an ugly scar of stumps into a dense stand of proud darkwood trees. Five sturdy-looking log buildings, apparently a bunkhouse, a meal hall, an office, a barn, and a smithy, stood with numerous wide carts and sleds amidst the sawdust-covered clearing. A small band of burly-looking armed men came out of the meal hall as we rode up. I dismounted.

�What the hell do you want here in the middle of the night?� one of them grunted.

�We have been sent by Sir Derrick to talk to Millan Radam,� I said. �It is a matter of life and death.�

�Isn�t it always?� the man said with a growl. �Sir Derrick doesn�t have any jurisdiction up here. Be off!�

Orrin and Aeryn dismounted and the latter took a balanced stance.

�This is how this is going to go down,� Aeryn said calmly. �We got an entire town of people that are dying, right now. We�re out, trying to find a cure for these people. Now, the next one of you that says a single word that stops me from accomplishing this task, I�m going to make you about two feet shorter from the knees down, if you get my meaning. My blades are sharp, and my reflexes are quick, and I�m tired and in a bad mood. So, if one of you don�t scurry off, right now, and find this Radam fellow, I swear by all that is holy, I�m going to cut you in half.�

Orrin, no longer drunk but looking hung over and most likely volatile after our violent journey north, stood and glared at the men.

The men glared at them for a moment and then one of them looked at me.

�Millan, you said?� he asked me.

I nodded. He looked at Aeryn and the man threw his cloak back to reveal his sword. The lumber man gripped his axe tighter.

�Wait here,� he said.

�Right,� Aeryn replied.

He walked to one of the smaller buildings. There was shouting from the building for a few moments. Then he returned.

�All right,� he said. �Trooks�ll see you. That�s no bloody favor to you.�

�We�re not here to see Trooks,� Aeryn said.

�That�s who you�re seeing,� the other man replied. �And you can take up your shortening with him.�

Aeryn glared at the man.

We were escorted the smaller building. Within was a filthy office thickly decorated with various pelts and heads of forest animals. A small black bearskin rug dominated the floor while the heads of other animals covered the walls.

�What the hell you want?� Trooks muttered. �Ridin� into my camp in the middle of the night! Threatenin� my men! You said that the reeve sent you, Derrick, did he? If he did, if you�re doing his work and you�re threatenin� my men, how by I tell him about �at?�

�How �bout it?� Aeryn said. �You can start by telling me about it.�

�We�re doing work here! You want to kill all my men, stop all the lumbering? That�s up to you, and I think he might have somethin� to say about that.�

�Yeah, he might.�

�And so would the lumber consortium.�

�Ain�t going to do a bit of good if everybody in town is dead and there�s nobody to buy your lumber now, isn�t it?�

�We�ll sell anywhere we want. Not just Goblin�s Tooth.�

�You can�t if you�re dead now, can you?�

�I�m not dead.�

�You might be.�

�The black scour does not discriminate with who it kills,� I added.

�Well, that�s in Goblin�s Tooth, isn�t it?� he replied nastily. �It�s a good thing I�ll be in my camp.�

�Your own water might be tainted as well. Probably it is. It is the same aquifer as all the other wells in this area. It comes from the same river, goes to the same place, kills as dispassionately and uncaring as any disease. There are children dying and all we ask is a few questions of you. I apologize for waking you from your deep sleep, from your restful slumber from a hard day�s work of cutting down your trees. I apologize. But there are more important things than your sleep and there are more important things than your lumber.�

�Aye, there are more important things. Maybe something that might convince me to answer some of your questions.�

�You should be rubbing your fingers together when you�re saying that,� Aeryn said.

�He is talking hard, cold steel between his chest,� I said.

�That�s what it looks like to me,� Aeryn said.

�We are not dispassionate men but ... Orrin is hung over,� I said quietly. �I would not anger him.�

I looked at the man for a moment.

�There is a man named Radam in your camp,� I went on.

�Maybe there is,� Trooks replied. �Maybe he�s out. Wouldn�t that be a sad shame?�

�It would,� I said.

�For you,� Aeryn added.

�For all of us, wouldn�t it?� Trooks said.

�Yes, it would be a terrible sad shame,� I said. I turned to Aeryn. �I am terribly fond of children and that little girl that was coughing tonight broke my heart. When my heart is broken, I feel like other hearts should be broken as well.�

�Please, stop your flappin� your gums, I�m weeping here,� Trooks growled. �Should I be plain? A bit of hard coin may find you some answers.�

�No,� Aeryn said. �How about a bit of steel, pointed at your face?�

�Lads, gettum out of here,� Trooks said. �Be off.�

Aeryn leapt onto the desk, landing on his knees, as he drew two swords. He crossed them against Trooks� neck, pressing them both lightly against the man�s skin.

�Better call off your men right now,� he said quietly.

Trooks stared at him as everyone stopped moving. A little sweat rolled down the side of the man�s face. I quietly drew my sword and held it low and Orrin had his axe in his hand.

�You think killin� me�s going to mean you walk out of here?� he whispered.

�It�s a good start,� Aeryn muttered. �You think your boys, with a bunch of hatchets, choppin� down the trees��

�Gustav!� Trooks said. �Grab the damned tracker. Bring �im here.�

He looked at Aeryn again.

�You take these swords off my throat, lad, or there�s going to be bigger problems for you,� he went on.

One man shouldered his way by Marzena. Then Aeryn took one of the swords from the man�s throat and sheathed it. He backed away from Trooks, slid one leg off the desk, removed the second sword, and sheathed it. He slid off the man�s desk.

The logger who�d left returned with another man.

�We got him sir,� he said.

�Get the hell out of my office,� Trooks said.

�Sure,� Aeryn said.

The others turned and left. I backed up to the door.

�It was a pleasure to meet you,� I said to Trooks before I stepped out of the door and closed it behind me. Shouting came from within the room.

Outside was a small, wiry, hard-looking man with tan skin. He was dressed in a simple tunic and breeches.

�What you want?� he asked. �Rode a long way here. Gave Trooks the shakedown, eh?�

�We didn�t have much of a choice,� Aeryn muttered.

�What�s it to do with me?�

�You�re name was given to us as a man that we could ... trust and talk to plainly.�

�Well? Talk.�

�Got the black scour showed up in Goblin�s Tooth.�

�You don�t say.�

�I do say. We was told of a possible cure but there�s some rare ingredients that we have to gather, one of which is some moss off the eldest tree��

�Elderwood moss,� I said, still watching the door.

��in the vale,� Aeryn went on.

�All right,� Millan said.

�Know of it?� Aeryn said.

�We were told you might be able to show us where we could find it,� I said.

�Show you?� Millan said.

�Tell us. Anything.�

�Draw you a map.�

�We�d appreciate it,� Aeryn said.

�Goblin�s Tooth, you say?�

�Yeah.�

�It is spreading very quickly,� I said.

�My sister and her lads live there,� Millan said.

�What is her name?� I asked. �And the children.�

�Treeva,� he said.

I nodded.

�Lots a lads,� he went on.

�Well, we�ll do our best to help out any way we possibly can,� Aeryn said. �We don�t have time for jackals like him.�

�He pays my coin, so ... you got any parchment? Any pens?�

�I do,� Marzena said.

She took out a scroll case and a parchment, giving Millan a quill. He drew us a crude map. As he wrote, Aeryn told him of the other things that we were looking for. I mentioned that if he knew where the witch�s hut was, we�d appreciate it. He told us that there was a lake in the woods with the great tree on the other side of it. Not far west of the tree was the old Hag Haunted Hollow with the old witch�s hut. Beyond that was some dwarven hold.

�I wouldn�t go to any of these places,� he finished.

�Well, we have to, mate,� Aeryn said.

�Someone must,� I said. �We thank you. We�re indebted to you for your help. If there is anything that I can ever do for you.�

�If my nephew�s sick, any of my nephews are sick, I hope they don�t die,� he said.

�We will do our best,� I said.

I took the map from him and tucked it into my jacket pocket. Aeryn took out a gold bracelet and held it out to the man.

�For your trouble, mate,� he said. �We appreciate it. So does Goblin�s Tooth.�

�Aye lad,� the man replied.

I asked him the names of his nephews and found that one of the 10 of them was called Tavian. He rattled off the other seven names, but couldn�t remember the youngest ones.

There was some talk of leaving the horses there. Millan suggested it and told us the place was called Darkwood Forest and that in addition to blood scour taint, big black nasty wolves had been attacking people in the woods. Aeryn asked if they were goblin wolves but he was not sure.

�And we hear there�s one even worse out there,� he said. �He can�t be killed, so they say. He moves here and there as he will. Can even go through locked doors. Some sort of ghost. You watch yourself.�

�We�ll have a word with Sir Derrick when we get back,� Aeryn said. �Maybe something can be done about that. Make your jobs a little bit easier. A little safer.�

�Not bloody likely.�

�You�ll look after the horses then?�

�Somebody will. They won�t be yours no more though.�

We took the horses, walking them and following the river upstream from Goblin�s Tooth. According to the map, another river connected to the main river and, beyond that was the lake.

I cast a minor healing spell on my horse once we were underway, which seemed to refresh it. We walked for about an hour before stopping to make camp. I took Aeryn aside and told him that I could cast one last healing spell that day if any of them needed it. He suggested that I cast the spell on Orrin. Aeryn asked Orrin to let him take a look at his wounds. The man only resisted a little. He had obviously been in a bad fight. He asked the other man if they could trust me and then I cast the healing spell upon him, having him drink a swig of beer and splashing a little on the wound.

�Do you feel any better?� I asked.

�Aye,� he said. �I do.�

The magic had scabbed over some of the fresh wounds while others were completely healed. Then we set up camp, making a fire and hobbling the horses. Orrin flopped down and fell immediately asleep. I asked about keeping watch and Aeryn told me to get some sleep.

�Do you have enough to keep your warm, Marzena?� I asked.

�I�m near the fire,� she said.

I sequestered myself in prayer with a drink of alcohol and a short song before I went to sleep that night, wrapped in my cloak and using my satchel as a pillow. It was not comfortable and it got very, very cold, though I lay as close to the fire as I safely could. I fell immediately to sleep.

* * *

The sun was well up when I awoke as something struck me in the cheek. I leapt up and grabbed my sword off the ground.

�I was awake!� I said.

I looked around for whatever attacked me but saw nothing. Marzena sat across the fire from me while Aeryn and Orrin stood near the horses. Seeing nothing untoward, I sheathed my sword and shoved it back into my belt.

�You all right?� Aeryn called.

�I am fine, yes,� I said, picking up my crossbow and my satchel. �I was awake this whole time.�

I stretched.

�Ah, the brisk morning air!� I said. �Is there any breakfast?�

I approached Orrin and offered him more healing magic if he wanted. I took off his shirt and examined him, then cast a healing spell upon him and left him with only light bruising. He was very happy about that.

We broke camp; Aeryn and Orrin took the horses to the river and watered them. While they were gone, Marzena cast some kind of spell upon herself. Afterwards, she seemed refreshed and her clothing seemed cleaner. The men returned very wet, obviously having bathed while they were there.

�You didn�t notice black specs in the water, did you?� I asked.

�I didn�t drink any of it,� Aeryn said.

�It�s running,� Orrin said.

They finished drying themselves off, Aeryn noting that Orrin had just put all his filth right back on himself with his filthy blanket. He then shook off the blanket onto the other man.

We rode upriver and travelled all day, eating lunch as we rode. I noticed that shadowy shapes were in the woods, seemingly following us. I mentioned it to Marzena and she glanced that way. Orrin was sleeping in the saddle but I quietly called to Aeryn and looked towards the woods. He nodded as if he�d already seen the shapes. I took my crossbow from my back and loaded it as casually as I could. I kept it in my lap as I rode after that.

We continued until dark and I told Aeryn I would need an hour to pray. Before I did so, I cast a spell upon myself that would make me immune to the cold of the night for 24 hours. I also cast a healing spell on Aeryn.

Marzena said she could produce some light. Aeryn asked her to do so. I told him that I could also cast a spell of magical light and could do so when her light went out, if he so desired. He suggested that she cast it on my crossbow bolt and that I do the same when hers wore off. When there was trouble coming from the woods, he wanted the bolt out there so they could see what was coming.

She cast the spell on the bolt, creating a cold, blue light. We continued on until the magical light faded. Then I cast a spell on the bolt myself, illuminating the area with my own white light. Before it faded, we could see the connecting river ahead.

We made camp at the fork of the river, which was flowing towards where we thought the lake was. Aeryn told us that something had been following us all day. He guessed it was wolves. I noted that normal wolves did not attack humans, unless they were sick or starving.

We hobbled the horses in the fork where the rivers met. Aeryn said he was doing that so that they would fight rather than run away. He set watches and I lay down and went to sleep.

* * *

I awoke to Aeryn tapping my foot. He hushed me and then asked if I had another of those light spells. I told him I did. He told me to get ready to cast it. I could make out, in the dark, that he drew the string on his bow well back and aimed towards the woods.

�What do you want me to cast it on?� I asked.

�The arrow,� he said.

I cast the spell on the shaft, closing my eyes as I did so, and heard him shoot the arrow. I opened my eyes to see the light some ways away. It illuminated the hideous shape of a small creature held together by sinew and strips of flesh. It was clearly not alive as it staggered towards us. Others shambled towards us.

�All right everybody, up and at �em,� Aeryn said.

�They�re just zombies,� I said as I stood up. �Wait until they�re closer. Once they start cowering in fear from me, then you can kill them at your leisure.�

Aeryn pulled on his bow

�Don�t waste your arrows on these things,� I said. �You must chop off their arms and legs.�

�What the hell�s going on?� Orrin asked.

�Zombies,� I said.

�Shamblers coming into camp,� Aeryn said.

Orrin and Marzena stood. Aeryn dropped his bow and drew his swords. The others waited and I cast another spell on a rock, causing it to glow brightly. I dropped it at my feet, illuminating the immediate vicinity. As The things drew closer, I could see that the little creatures had not been human when they had been alive. They looked more like small lizard men. The one in the front had some kind of wooden placard hanging around his neck.

�Feels wrong just waitin� for them to walk up on us,� Aeryn said.

�Indeed,� Marzena replied.

She chanted and a burst of light came from her finger and struck one of the zombies, bursting through its chest. It staggered but did not fall. I moved to one side.

�When they turn and run, cut them down like the dogs they are,� I said.

As the things continued their slow advance, I touched the holy symbol at my throat. Marzena cast another spell, sending another blast towards the things.

�By the power of beer, partying, and sex, the unliving will no longer harass the living!� I said, holding up my hand in defiance of the terrible things.

The things put up their arms to shield their faces and then turned and began shambling away.

�Run them down and chop them to pieces, they will not attack you!� I said. �I must continue turning them.�

I moved towards the things careful not to get close enough to disrupt the turning. Aeryn charged ahead and stabbed the nearest zombie in the side. Orrin also charged ahead and cut another of the things. I continued to pace the zombies, holding my holy symbol. One of them moved past Aeryn and he stabbed it again without doing it any harm. Orrin struck another zombie but it continued to shamble away though it was badly damaged.

Aeryn charged ahead, striking the zombie without apparently doing it any real harm. Then Orrin cleaved the thing he faced in twain. Aeryn continued stabbing the thing he followed, apparently without harming it at all. Orrin moved to another zombie and struck it without slowing it. Aeryn desperately stabbed at the same zombie again and again while Orrin cut another of the things to pieces.

There were only two left.

Aeryn stabbed the thing he had stabbed before, this time apparently damaging the walking dead body. Orrin rushed another of the things and cut it to pieces.

Only the zombie that Aeryn had been attacking over and over again was still standing.

�Aeryn!� came the scream of Marzena from back at the camp. �Orrin!�

Aeryn turned and ran into the darkness back towards the camp. Orrin brought his axe down on the last zombie and cleft it in twain. Then he looked around.

�Aeryn?� he said. �Where�d they go?�

�Screams from the camp!� I shouted.

I turned and ran back towards the camp, drawing my rapier. Near the horses, I could see two wolves stalking towards them and Marzena. One of them bit the woman in the leg and then shook its head, knocking her to the ground. She chanted and moved her hands and another magic missile struck the wolf that had just knocked her down.

Aeryn stabbed one of the animals as Orrin came crashing into the battle. I charged to Marzena, standing over the girl and trying to stab the other wolf but missed it completely. I yelled at the animal, trying to get its attention from the fallen girl.

The wolf glared at me and, though I was not sure, I almost swore it said �Die!�

�We could discuss this,� I muttered.

The thing bit me in the leg but I managed to stay on my feet.

�Why do you want me to die?� I asked. �We have food. You could have it if you want it.�

Aeryn tore into the other wolf, and it let out a yelp. Orrin rushed Aeryn�s side and brought his axe down on the wolf, finishing it. It let out a hideous cry that didn�t sound animal.

I stood between Marzena and the remaining wolf, swinging my sword wildly and ineffectually. The animal turned and fled as I tried to stab it but missed once again.

I went to Marzena. Her leg was bloody. I knelt beside her and examined it, then cast a healing spell upon the wound. It closed up the wound and something bubbled up out of the cut, possibly poison or disease. Then I went to the dying wolf and found it still breathing. I cast my weakest healing spell to stop it from bleeding out.

�What are you doing?� Aeryn asked.

�It can speak,� I said. �Which means it can be interrogated.�

Even as I said it, I realized how mad that it sounded.

I stood, cleaned my unbloodied blade on the wolf and then sheathed it.

�Perhaps I am mad,� I said. �But I could have sworn that the other one spoke and, when this one was cut down, it screamed. Wolves do no scream.�

�I�ll give you that,� Aeryn said.

�And if it can speak, perhaps it can answer questions.�

I gave my hand to Marzena, helping her to her feet.

�Perhaps I�m mad,� I said again.

�He�s not mad,� Marzena said.

�You heard it too?� Aeryn asked her.

�I did,� she said.

�All right. Goblin wolves.�

�They speak?� I asked.

�I would stake my life on it,� Marzena said to Aeryn.

She went to the camp and brought back the rock I�d enchanted. In the light, it was obvious that the creature was not a normal wolf. The face and the head looked strange. There was less fur in the face, but more exposed, black flesh. It had a goblin expression to its continence.

�What are goblin wolves?� I asked.

�They are not exactly beasts, but they are known to travel with goblins and fight with them on occasion,� Marzena said. �They are wicked and evil creatures. They are far from their homelands. They come from Ridnath and the Forest of H�rgaldor.�

�No redemption for said creatures?�

�No, they are the spawn of evil.�

�No information they could probably provide us?�

�I don�t know.�

�What types of questions would you want to ask it?� Aeryn asked.

�We were attacked by undead as well as them,� I said. �It was coordinated. It seemed to be planned. It felt to me as if this attack was something someone staged, not just a coincidence of these creatures attacking at the same time as those things.�

I gestured towards the area still lit by Aeryn�s arrow.

�Perhaps I am paranoid,� I said. �It feels to me like it is more than just running into the wrong things at the wrong time. I am, perhaps, mistaken. If you think there is nothing to be gained, we can slay this creature painlessly. It is up to you. I saved it in case it could have perhaps been interrogated.�

Aeryn decided to kill the beast and left that to Orrin, who dragged the wolf down towards the river. I told them the healing spell I�d cast on Marzena had also removed something, either a poison or some kind of infection.

�It�s gone now,� I said. �It should be gone.�

�I thank you,� Marzena said.

�Those undead things came from the direction that we need to go,� Aeryn said.

�Yes,� I said.

�The woodsman did say they call this the Darkwood Forest,� Marzena said.

There was some discussion of what we might expect and if that was the correct river to follow.

We returned to the camp and I found my spot on the ground. Though it was quite cold, I didn�t feel it at all thanks to the magic upon me.

King Maker - Session 1: Welcome to the Stolen Lands!

Rathalius — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 14:59:16 GMT

Capture bandits, slay kobolds, get... radishes? Profit!

24th of Cailstril:

12:00 - Four set out that day, each holding an exploration charter from the Lord Mayor of Restov, to go forth and explore the Stolen Lands. Oghren, the dwarven barbarian, does not understand much in the ways of the world, but he finds himself a purpose of honor to dispatch the thieving bandits of the Greenbelt. Erlarf the Fat, and Human Fighter, seeks to protect his company with his huge size and massive tower shield any way he can. Verin, the Orcish Cleric, though initially scorned by Oghren found no reason to start a fight seeing his own purpose in line with that of the dwarf, set out to forge an alliance with an unlikely companion. Drusilla, a Kitsune Rogue, seeks to aid the group only while drawing as little attention to herself as possible. The four set out from Restov to Oleg�s Trading Post, which was set to be a 4-day journey.

28th of Cailstril:

15:00 - Upon arrival at the trading post in the Greenbelt, they were greeted by Oleg Levetan and his wife Svetlana at the gate and immediately Oleg began questioning them about taking care of the bandit problem. Oghren, simple in nature, replying that the bandits were one of their �tasks.� Once Oleg briefed the group about the bandit�s past activities and their expect arrival the next morning, the party devised a plan of ambush to surprise the bandits when they returned to claim their �taxes.�

1st of Pharast:

6:00 - The next morning, their plan was well laid out. Oghren hid behind the guesthouse, greatsword in hand, and would wait for the bandits to pass. Erlarf climbed on top of the guesthouse with his massive tower shield and intended to perform a vertical shield bash on the nearest target. Verin hid behind the old broken cart, the same one he spent an hour the previous night fixing with his divine magic, with his greataxe at the ready. Finally, Drusilla posted herself on the palisade above the main gate and would pepper the thieves with arrows. The bandit arrived promptly just after the break of dawn, and beat on the door with intensity demanding entry. Oleg hesitated for a moment before opening the gate, making sure his little raiding party was in position. The bandits came strolling in like the owned the place, and Oleg slowly began to back away around the guesthouse. There were only four of them, and as soon as one of them progressed beyond the guesthouse, Oghren charged excitedly. Perhaps it was the rush of battle, or maybe a simple mistake, but his blade never found it�s mark. Drusilla was equally unlucky, as her bow failed to pick off the lieutenant from above. Verin, however, would strike the first blow. Charging in from behind the cart, he swung his long axe nearly cleaving a bandit in two, and sent him flying towards Oleg spraying blood all over him. The bandits, surprised by the ground assault, never saw the armored large man atop the guesthouse. Erlarf the Fat, leaped down from the guesthouse, spiked tower shield first, squashing a second bandit. The bandits tried to fight back, but they were severely outmatched and outflanked. Oghren�s second attempt to slay his quarry proved more fortuitous, as he struck so hard as to split the body in half. The leader, seeing his subordinates all laying dead on the ground, attempted to flee but was caught and subdued by Verin�s divine power.

6:15 - Once the prisoner was conscious again, Verin and Drusilla were collectively able to extract the location of not just the Stag Lord�s Fort due south of the trading post, but also a camp staged along the river southwest of the post as well. Oghren, bound by his barbarian honor and pride, did not want to allow the cowardly bandit to live despite the promises of the Orc and the Kitsune. Oleg however, vengeful and angry, came up with an even worse fate for the thief. They decided he would hang outside the walls by his wrists, naked, without food until he starved to death. This satisfied the barbarian, as he sat in the grass for hours watching the bandit suffer while enjoying some venison, cheese, and ale all compliments of Oleg�s food stores.

7:00 - Oleg was so pleased that the four adventurers were so effective in dealing with the thieving wretches that he insisted on the four staying the remainder of the day as his guests so they could stock up and prepare for their journey through the Greentbelt. They traded some of the haul they acquired from the bandits to utilize Oleg�s cart with the help of the 6 horses the commandeered from the bandits.

2nd of Pharast:

6:00 - Seeking the bandit camp the prisoner spoke of, the four traveled southwest, and ended up finding a clearing in a forest that housed a large patch of a strange sort of radish.

10:00 � This patch, however, was guarded by 5 well fed kobolds. Verin thought that the kobolds could be reasoned with while Oghren thought to just kill them all since Svetlana had asked for the radishes to make her special soup. Turns out that the kobolds wanted nothing to do with diplomacy and attacked the four after a few short exchanges of �go away� in draconic. The four made quick work of the kobolds, being weak creatures and standing no change against their mighty blows. Once the fight was done with, the four collectively decided that fresher radishes would be better so they loaded up the cart with as many radishes as they could find and set off back to the trading post to deliver them.

14:00 � Upon arrival, Svetlana was more than pleased to get her radish supply so quickly. Then, seeing an opportunity to assault the bandit camp undercover of darkness, the four prepared to set back out into the wilds of the Greenbelt once again�

King Maker - Adventure Summary

Rathalius — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 14:51:43 GMT

Player Characters
Oghren � Dwarven Barbarian. Less talk, more ale!
Erlarf the Fat � Human Fighter. Imma� squash �im!
Verin � Orcish Cleric. Can there be a peace between us?
Drusilla � Kitsune Rogue. Oh no, you did NOT see me�

Non-Player Characters: The Friendlies
Lord Mayor of Restov � Bestower of the quest to explore the Stolen Lands and thwart the threats
Oleg Levetan � Owner and operator of �Oleg�s Trading Post.� Likes moon radish soup, dislikes strangers.
Svetlana Levetan � Oleg�s wife and a mean cook. Missing is her wedding band to the bandits.
Crazy Old Bokken � According to Oleg, an old coot that lives south of the post and makes strange concoctions with weird fruits and berries.

Non-Player Characters: The Hostiles
A bandit lieutenant � Human Male � Met an unfortunate end at the hands of the party when he led a 4 man team to extort furs and trade goods from Oleg.

General: DMing Style

Hey I Can Chan — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 15:12:58 GMT

I build a world framework. You help make that world real. I build the kind of world in which I�d like to adventure because my NPCs are adventuring there. You then help make it into the kind of world in which you want to adventure by making choices about what happens.

I never have a PC when I DM. You are players. You have player characters. I�m the DM; I have all the non-player characters. I don�t need a PC to make me feel connected to the world or point you in the right direction. I made the world. They�re all right directions.

I run a sandbox-style game, but with plots happening all around you. You can choose to get involved with them or forge your own way. But things happen when you�re not around, and ignoring a plot doesn�t make it go away; instead, it means the campaign world will change because you didn�t get involved as much as it will change because you did.

I don�t expect the world to survive the campaign. I don�t expect NPCs to survive the campaign. I expect you to raze cities and murder NPCs. Don�t worry about them; I�ll make more. I have infinite resources for regeneration.

You should make character choices based on the kind of game you want you be in. If you take as your feat Weapon Focus, I�ll assume you want more combat. If you take an item creation feat, I assume you want more detail on that. And so on. Every choice you make tells me something about the campaign world and its shifting focus. But it�s also up to you to use what you have to solve problems. I don�t design problems specifically so your abilities will solve them; I set up situations, you solve them with your abilities.

I expect you to be smart. My NPCs will be smart (when that�s appropriate). It�s rare, but I might give you actual real-life challenges like puzzles and riddles that need solving with on your own brain power rather than a series of die rolls; I know that�s kind of shitty and takes power away from your character sheet, but I also know it can be interesting and entertaining and make for some good storytelling. In such cases, I�ll sometimes employ an intermediary�like the wife or the boy�to stand in for the world while I play an NPC if the challenge is a competitive one so as to even the playing field.

I don�t railroad. I�ve have an outline of what the antagonists are doing while you�re doing what you�re doing, and you tend to cross paths with the antagonists, but if you don�t care, so be it. If you want to go off the rails, that�s great: you can�t. There are no rails. Do what you want.

I�m tightfisted, but not unreasonably so. The game�s advancement scheme means that encountering treasure is less frequent than leveling up. You�re going to be poor, but your character�s going to be badass, so that makes up for it. You won�t feel it until you�re third level and still tracking copper pieces. That usually means you�re going too slow not that I am.

Don�t try to con me. If you want to do something, let�s talk about it. If you�re picking something because there�s a rules interpretation out there that you want to exploit, don�t spring it on me. Talk to me. Make sure we agree before you choose something upon which reasonable people disagree. I am an extremely liberal DM, but I�m not a goldfish. I think the rules are there for a reason, and sometimes shit doesn�t do what you think it does, and sometimes shit doesn�t do what I think it does.

Above all: Talk to me. I can�t game without you.

The Islands: Spellcasting

Hey I Can Chan — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 13:43:48 GMT

(Note: This is ultra-crunchy. So if you were following along hoping for more world info, you're going to have to wait until the next entry.)

Spellcasting
All PCs have the Spells class feature. It looks like this:

Spells: You can cast spells. Your Spells Known are on Table [x].2: [class name] Spells Known. [ability] governs your spellcasting.

Yeah, that�s the whole thing. And here�s the skinny.

Divine Spells: You cast divine spells because divine spellcasting is quantitatively better than arcane spellcasting. There is no chance of arcane spell failure for divine spells. Expensive material components and foci sometimes aren�t even an issue (Player�s Handbook 174). Regaining spells is more convenient. You do need to get a divine focus, but this divine focus can be anything, not just a generic Player�s Handbook wooden or silver holy symbol. It can�t be a weapon, shield, armor, attached body part, or anything permanently stuck to you, and it must be something held in one hand. Damn, dude, get a lanyard and sling your symbol to your wrist if you�re worried about dropping your sacred tankard or whatever.

Minimum Ability Score: Your governing ability must be at least 10 + the spell�s level for you to cast a spell of that level at all; if your governing ability score is lower than that�for whatever reason�you can�t cast that spell. You should have your spellcasting stat be at least 11 at level 1, 12 by level 3, 13 by level 6, 14 by level 9, 15 by level 12, 16 by level 15, and 17 by level 18. You should want your spellcasting stat high anyway; it�s probably important to your class in other ways. But if you want to start with your spellcasting stat at 12 and apply all your level-up bonuses to it so you can just barely cast your spells, the DM won�t stop you. The other players might look at you like you�re an idiot, but, hey, screw them: It�s your character.

Spells Per Day: You can normally only cast 2 spells of your highest spell level per day and 4 spells of your second-highest spell level per day. Your highest level spell is 1 at level 1 and increases by 1 at levels 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, and 18.

Lower-level Spells: Once a spell level is neither your highest spell level nor your second-highest spell level, you can use any spell of that spell level at will as a spell-like ability (which means it still provokes attacks of opportunity (Player�s Handbook 141) but doesn�t have verbal, somatic, or material components; require a focus; or have an XP cost). You can still cast these lower level spells instead.

If it matters, when an effect (like a feat or spell) checks, you are considered to have exactly 0 and infinite unused divine spell slots at each level to cast these lower-level spells, and exactly 0 and infinite Spells Per Day for casting these spells, whichever is least advantageous for whatever�s checking.

I know that�s counterintuitive, but some things mess with this, and I don�t want to deal with them (I�m looking at you, the Arcane Strike feat, you asshole).

For ease of reference, I�m calling spells you can cast this way Ω spells, so that way I can just say, �At level 3 your 0th-level spells are Ω spells.�

Your Ω spells are available to cast. This is so you can take reserve feats. If something else taps this mechanic on the shoulder and knees it in the nuts, let me know.

Bonus Spells: If your governing ability is 12, you can cast 1 additional spell per day of your second-highest spell level and 1 additional spell per day of your second highest spell level per 4 points after 12 (i.e. 2 additional at 16, 3 additional at 20, etc.). If your governing ability is 14, you can cast 1 additional spell per day of your highest spell level and 1 additional spell per day of your highest spell level per 4 points after 14 (i.e. 2 additional at 18, 3 additional at 22, etc.). So if you put an 18 in your casting stat, you can cast 6 0th-level spells and 4 1st-level spells per day.

Saving Throw DCs: The saving throw DC of your spells is equal to 10 + the spell�s spell level + your governing ability modifier.

Regaining Spells: You spend 1 hour in the morning meditating, screaming Screw you at the sky, masturbating furiously, fixing your hair, watering your plants, reading the newspaper, having a few drinks, or whatever ritual you dream up and you get back spell slots you used the previous day, if any. Yes, oodles of shenanigans exist for messing with this, but if you don�t travel to planes where time passes ultra-quickly so you can regain spells more often, I will avoid having you accidentally sleep through your spell-regaining hour and be boned for the day.

Spells Aren�t Prepared: Your Spells Known and your spell list are the same; you know and cast your spells from a list dictated by your class. You can cast any spell on that list without preparation. However, because Skip Williams hates sorcerers, a restriction applies to this: spells cast without preparation affected by metamagic feats take longer to cast (Player�s Handbook 88). We say no on that shit. If you have a metamagic feat and want to apply its effects to a spell, compute the new spell level, and, if you can cast it, you cast it at the usual casting time. Further, if you apply a metamagic feat to a Ω spell and doing so doesn�t push the spell level into the your second-highest or highest spell level, you can cast that metamagic-ed spell with its normal casting time. If, after the metamagic feat�s applied, the spell�s spell level goes up to your second-highest or highest spell level, you have to use one of your spells per day to cast it. So it goes.

Feats and shit that add divine spells to your spell list (not that just add cleric spells to your cleric spell list!) also add the same spells to your Spells Known and vice-versa. These spells are added to your spell list or spells known at whatever level the feat or ability says to add them at, however, and this is probably higher than what my game would�ve added them at. That�s another price for the versatility (the first being whatever got you those spells). Further, if you are granted 8th-level or 9th-level spells, those are on your spell list and your Spells Known, you just can�t cast them because you don�t get 8th-level and 9th-level slots. Unless you somehow weasel into that too, genius.

Universal Spells: All PCs have the following spells in addition to whatever spells are on their Spells Known list.

Table 1.1: Spells Everyone Gets
0th�arcane mark, detect magic, prestidigitation, read magic.
1st�summon component (Complete Mage 118), summon holy symbol (Complete Champion 128).
3rd�dispel magic.
4th�freedom of movement.
5th�contingency, greater dispel magic.

Your prestidigitation spell has a special effect based on your class. The betrayer�s prestidigitation is bleak and creepy, accompanied by ominous strings. The dragon�s is awesome and bigger than it needs to be, accompanied by crashing symbols and beating drums. The fist�s is needlessly violent, accompanied by drunken, unintelligible singing. The scoundrel�s is darkly funny, accompanied by nervous canned laughter. The gnome�s is smoothly mechanical, smells like a wet badger, and is accompanied by a 1980s keyboard ostinato. The martyr�s is bright and shiny, accompanied by a brief but loud full choir. The shootist�s always looks like it�s done close up, in slow-motion, and at a weird angle, accompanied by an acoustic guitar strum.

No, there�s no martyr or shootist yet. But there can be.

I never would, but you can suppress and renew your prestidigitation spell�s special effect at will during the spell�s duration. This is not an action.

Table 1.2: PC Spellcasting Advancement

Level Spells Per Day
1-2 You can cast 2 1st-level and 4 0th-level spells per day.
3-5 You can cast 2 2nd-level and 4 1st-level spells per day and all of your 0th-level spells can be cast any number of times per day or be used as spell-like abilities at will.
6-8 You can cast 2 3rd-level and 4 2nd-level spells per day and all of your 1st-level and 0th-level spells can be cast any number of times per day or be used as spell-like abilities at will.
9-11 You can cast 2 4th-level and 4 3rd-level spells per day and all of your 2nd-level, 1st-level, and 0th-level spells can be cast any number of times per day or be used as spell-like abilities at will.
12-14 You can cast 2 5th-level and 4 4th-level spells per day and all of your 3rd-level, 2nd-level, 1st-level, and 0th-level spells can be cast any number of times per day or be used as spell-like abilities at will.
15-17 You can cast 2 6th-level and 4 5th-level spells per day and all of your 4th-level, 3rd-level, 2nd-level, 1st-level, and 0th-level spells can be cast any number of times per day or be used as spell-like abilities at will.
18-20 You can cast 2 7th-level and 4 6th-level spells per day and all of your 5th-level, 4th-level, 3rd-level, 2nd-level, 1st-level, and 0th-level spells can be cast any number of times per day or be used as spell-like abilities at will.

Once you hit level 3 when you can use your 0th-level spells as spell-like abilities at will you�re going to have spells on your spell list that you�ll want to have on all the damn time because you can. These are, essentially, baked in class features that I expect you to have on all the time, especially if the duration of such spells is 1 minute per level or longer. Stopping what you�re doing every 10 minutes to spend 6 seconds staring into space isn�t that big of a deal, although it will be obvious to onlooker that you�re either doing something or retarded. However, spells and spell-like abilities with durations of 1 round per level must be used when the time comes; maintaining those all the damn time is too great a burden for even your characters.

As per our Gentlemen's Agreement, you can have all your 1-hour-or-longer duration Ω spells cast all the time, and you can have 1 1-minute-per-level duration Ω spell cast all the time per character level.

(Note: Before you judge, you've not seen any spell lists. I comb through just about every book for just the right spells for each class, and then pick 8 each for 0th, 1st, and 2nd; 6 each for 3rd, 4th, and 5th; and 4 each for 6th and 7th. The casting of low-level spells at will just about eliminates the 15-min. workday that plagues 3.5. Making them all divine spells means everyone can wear armor because, well, armor is cool. Just making a list of what you've got always on prevents anyone from trying to pull shenanigans that will make such a thing happen anyway. The system is playable and fun, and once you use it and then have to go back to having your Wiz9 keep a tally of his 0th-level spells, you'll want to use it, too.)

Next: Campaign Style (or, "Sandbox? Seriously?")

The Islands: House Rules

Hey I Can Chan — Sat, 15 Sep 2012 19:00:10 GMT

You Play Your Gender: If you are male, you�re character�s male. If you�re female, you�re character�s female. Things are easier on me that way.

Ability Scores: Your ability scores are 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, and 18, arranged how you want. Okay, Jason, so you don�t want an 8. Fair enough. Anyone can instead choose 10, 10, 12, 14, 16, 16. I guess if you wanted to you could go 10, 12, 12, 14, 14, 16 or even 12, 12, 12, 14, 14, 14. I�m not sure why you�d want to�this is Dungeons and Dragons 3.5, after all�, but any of those are options for everyone.

You can�t begin play at an age greater than middle age −10% (Player�s Handbook 109). This avoids age shenanigans and willful extremism (�I want to be venerable with Str 5 and Int 21!�).

Open Locks: The Disable Device skill includes the Open Locks skill. All references to the Open Locks skill instead reference the Disable Device skill when the Disable Device skill is used to open locks. I don�t want to have to decide what�s a lock and what�s a device and have it really matter.

Precision Damage: Precision damage applies only to living creatures with discernible anatomies�constructs, oozes, undead, plants, and incorporeal creatures lack vital areas to attack. Any creature that is immune to critical hits is invulnerable to precision damage. Precision damage isn�t multiplied on a critical hit. This is probably quantified somewhere, but it�s here because it�s important. This is a mechanical decision to make writing easier. Sneak attack and skirmish damage is precision damage; favored enemy damage isn�t�favored enemy damage is I-hate-those-assholes damage (seriously, that�s actually not a house rule�I�m just clarifying).

Item Creation Feats: When you take an item creation feat as a permanent feat (i.e. the feat doesn�t go away when you regain spells or is granted by a magic item or spell or whatever), you gain an XP pool of 25 XP � your level when you gained the feat. You can spend this XP only for creating items with your permanent item creation feats. You can spend your XP instead of or in addition or in any combination with XP your item creation XP pool.

Some Spells and Effects Aren�t Banned, But�: PCs have access to very few I-get-to-pick-what-appears illusion spells (e.g. silent image), no spells that allow I-get-to-pick-what-I-change-into shapechaging (e.g. alter self or polymorph), very few high-level long-distance travel spells (e.g. plane shift, teleport), very few spells that allow long-distance spying (e.g. scrying), almost no spells that grant invisibility (e.g. invisibility, greater invisibility), almost no spells that do nothing but change your size category (e.g. enlarge person), and no spells that create areas of silence (e.g. silence and suspended silence) or darkness. Spells that bring other creatures onto the battlefield are also limited. I had bad experiences with these spells, trouble playing a game with these spells being commonplace, or know how hard it is to adjudicate their effects because they�re poorly written. You can still, during play, access these spells (such as through magic items or careful feat selection or knowing a dude who can cast them), and your opponents might have access to them, but I�m not going to give them, at least in quantity, to your class. It�d be really cool if you respected my decision to try to keep them out of the PCs� grubby hands, but if you feel that you must have them, seek them out. Just be prepared to bring with you all of the books, errata, Sage Advice columns, rulings, and FAQs that are associated with them so we can work out how they should be gamed together.

If you have or gain access to a spell I don�t like (even if I gave it to you), be prepared for me to play the spell to absolute letter of the rules. Also, be prepared to solve any problems I would have with the spell�if you have considered beyond-the-obvious counters to it, let me know. Finally: I have the world to manage; you have one PC. I can�t have your single trick monopoloize the spotlight. If you can turn into, for example, an itty-bitty fish, you should have an itty-bitty fish stat block prepared before you hit the table, along with page references so I can anal retentively make sure you�re right. Same thing for complex effects like invisibility and charms. I don�t want the game slowed because you don�t understand what you can do.

�Can I Get This?�: My default answer is yes. That�s my superpower as Dungeon Master�the ability to say yes. Everyone else at the table can sigh and tell you, �Hell no, nobody would ever let you have that!� or, �Holy shit, that�s going to totally snap the game!� and I will still say yes. I will ask you, however, why you want something. If you want something because it leads you to something else, tell me what that is, and let�s discuss that instead. If you want something because you want to break the game with it, tell me how you plan to break the game with it so I can plan for that and figure out why no one has ever done it before. If you want something because it will give you an absurd unbeatable numerical bonus, explain to me why you want that�I mean, do you really want your character to be invulnerable? Why is that fun for you? What sort of adventures does an invulnerable character have? You could just play video games�with save points and restarts�by yourself instead of hanging out with us. If you�re going to rule the campaign world with what you pick, you can do that, but what stories can be told about after that?

I know it sounds geeky, but whenever your character gets something, that something should lend itself to telling more and bigger stories. That�s really what we do at the table. I don�t want to have to say no. Saying no means that you had something in mind�had an image for your character�that I have just squashed, and you only get that one character while I get the whole damn world. It�s inherently unfair for me to limit you. But it�s also unfair for you to choose to make the game less fun. Pick things that are fun. Pick things that tell bigger stories. Don�t just chase numbers.

Remember: You're not multiclassing; your custom class should do everything you want it to do without the need for multiclassing, so the choices you make are things like feats, allocation of skill ranks, selectable class features (every class has some), skill tricks, and sometimes spells. If you want to multiclass to get some class feature your class doesn't have because that multiclassing class feature fits your concept, let's fold it into your class instead.

Psionics, Action Points, Auras, Chakras, Essentia, Invocations, Martial Maneuvers, Mysteries, and Other Piles: I have no particular bias against things unmentioned in these rules, but I don�t know them that well, so many classes don�t do anything with them. If you really want to incorporate one of these other piles into your character, I�m not adverse, but you have to find a way to do so on your own, and you�re going to have to explain the rules to me and how those rules interact with everything else in the game. Usually, each pile has a way for you to get a few benefits from the pile using your feats�if that�s how you want to go, rock on. Just try to keep it fun.

If there�s something reasonable that you want to do that can only be done with more than a passing dip into a pile, let�s find a way. If we can�t, I�ll just make shit up.

Leveling Up: You gain 1 level for every 4 session in which you participate. The game skews to the highest level PC at the table, and for every level you're below that, the value of the session increases by 1 for your PC. For example, if 1 PC is level 4 and another is level 1, the level 1 PC's session counts as 4 sessions, and he'd level up at the end of it. In other words, you'll catch up rapidly if you're behind, but you still gotta tough it out. I'd prefer everyone start at level 1 even if the group's way beyond that, but that's something that can be discussed at the table.

Useful References: There are different kinds of special abilities�extraordinary, spell-like, supernatural, and natural (Player�s Handbook 141 and 180, Dungeon Master�s Guide 289). Things with no Ex, Sp, or Su tags are natural abilities.

Next: Spellcasting (spoiler: All PCs cast spells.)

The Islands: Characters

Hey I Can Chan — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 17:07:48 GMT

The Characters
Characters are unique to the player and, often, the campaign. I don�t want you to sit down at the table and think, �You know, the next fighter we encounter could be me.� And I certainly don�t want you to be outclassed by an NPC that I, purely by accident, made more effective than you made your character. That�s shitty policy in a role-playing game of high fantasy adventure.

So your character is special.

You tell me what you want to do, and I build your character class.

When I say, �You tell me what you want to do,� I don�t mean in a mechanical, numbers-oriented kind of way. I want you to have an idea of what kind of character you want to play on a wholly narrative level. I want you to think about the novel that would be written about that character and the cool shit he�d do, and tell me that. And then I�ll make that happen. You also need to consider what your endgame character looks like�at the campaign�s near conclusion, when all the stops are pulled out, what does your character do? Let�s do that. Let�s make that happen.

I like high adventure. I like being a fan of the PCs. I don�t like you having to muddle through, doing things you don�t want to do because they�re more effective than doing the things you want to do. Playing any class means you�ve changed the rules. If what you want to do is mechanically unsound but awesome, let�s make it mechanically sound instead of forcing you to lump it.

But there needs to be some kind of concept behind it, and you should be able to summarize that concept in terms of archetype (�I want to be the brawler�) or action (�I want to poison God�). If you can�t, then you�re not thinking large enough. Your class should occupy significant conceptual space in the campaign, wherein I have to move things around that are already in it to accommodate you. It needs to be big enough to fill 100 episodes of a television series. If you wouldn�t watch 5 seasons about your character, why would you want to play that character for 5 seasons?

Have you read astral spell? At level 17, a wizard or cleric is, essentially, immortal for a pittance. The game has 3 levels left, and the wizard or cleric can�t die. Consider that when you consider your end game.

Thanks for trusting me with your class. I will make mistakes that we�ll need to talk about. That happens when you try to customize anything, so be open when I inevitably say, �Wow, I didn�t realize you were going to do that with that. We have to tone that down.� It�s not because I don�t want you to be powerful or effective. It�s that I want you to have a good time, and you�ll have more fun if the campaign can punch back, and I want other people to have fun; if your special abilities are spotlight hogging, no one else gets to be cool. That�s the crux of this exercise: everyone should be equally cool for just as long.

Oh, yeah, you�re human (unless your class is something special like being the ultimate gnome or something), and you don�t multiclass. If you�re not excited about just gaining your next level of your class, or you�re dreading the slog of having to gain 3 or 5 levels until you�re cool again, I�ve built your class wrong. Let me know if that�s the case, and we�ll change things around. You should feel awesome every level. Most games don�t run until level 20. Playing in a game wherein you�re a chump until you�re cool is stupid.

Current Characters
The Betrayer: I want to poison gods.
The Dragon: I want to become dragons.
The Fist: I want to punch everything.
The Gnome: I want to gnome a lot.
The Scoundrel: I want to be luck.

Note: This is not a debate--not even a formal one, wherein rather than trying to convince me you're trying to convince the (very small) audience--where you explain that my fun is wrong. You might not like this; you might think the D&D 3.5e fighter is just as viable as the 3.5e druid. That's an opinion; keep it. Instead, deal with the idea that this is how my game goes and people have been having fun playing it.

Next: House rules.

Game On! Starting with however many players are there.

cplmac — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 14:28:40 GMT

This campaign will be started on October 21. At this time there are 5 players signed on. If nobody else signs on, I will be running one of the clerics as an NPC. Both of the clerics and 1 fighter are the characters that are still available. I am preparing everything to allow for all 8 characters but will be able to easily adjust for as low as only having 5 plus the NPC cleric. This game will be looking at having one session per month, so that means there will be one log entry per month. If for some reason an extra session would be done, I will title that session as an extra one.

Also, not sure why but the font and size selections were not working at the time of this post and is why the text is different from the usual.