Monday, December 13, 2021

The Story So Far - Part 12 - “Running The Gauntlet”

"The Story So Far" is an ongoing series recapping the details of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that I've been running since 2002. Links to the previous entries can be found here:  

Prologue                    Part I                    Part II                    Part III              Part IV  
Part V                        Part VI                  Part VII                 Part VIII            Part IX 
Part X                        Part XI 

I've "fictionalized" the session reports in a likely-vain attempt to make them more "entertaining."   

And now, our story continues...

***

Moonday, Solstice 28, 1492

Rincewind might have been restored to life but, but between his erratic behavior and memory loss, his friends were left wondering if the cost of his revival was already too high. As for the group’s primary mission, Kiras Toth had been liberated, but the threat of enemy reinforcements arriving at any moment was a very real concern. 

Operating on just enough sleep for the magic-users to regain their spells, the Fellowship made preparations for their journey back to Castebridge. After putting the recuperative powers of the Spirit Well to good use, everyone was in perfect health by the time they departed the dwarven fortress at the crack of dawn. 

Ulfgar and the other dwarven survivors had done a fine job trussing Giran Oakenshield up in a sturdy travel pallet. Although short of stature, the dwarf’s comatose form was heavy to lift and awkward to carry. Only Roman and Pol were strong enough to heave the dead weight and carry for any length of distance across the treacherous ground. 

Bria was the first one to peek her head out through the exit. Unfortunately, she failed to notice the presence of an ogre hunter, waiting patiently just outside to play a game of “whack-a-dwarf" and she was immediately grazed by a brutal sneak attack from the monster’s massive club. So towering and muscular was her assailant that the dazed rogue first mistook the behemoth for a small hill giant!

Trapped like rats, the group was forced to scramble away from the exit as a massive hand came grasping into the confined space. Somehow, Rincewind managed to blast the monster square in the jaw with an unerring, and completely random, “Magic Missile.” Lorelei attempted to distract the beast by summoning a badger, only to have it scamper a few feet before it was popped like a furry blister underneath the creature’s massive club. 

As the ogre turned back towards the entrance, several of the adventurers plugged it in the flank with some well-placed missile-fire. When Rincewind cast an incidental “Open / Close” spell, the hinge-less hatch flew up off the ground and smashed the beast just under the jaw. With that, the creature flew into a rage and started jamming its club down the corridor. This caught Bria square in the ribs, sending her flying into the wall and knocking the wind out of her. After Lorelei deftly used a spell to “Daze” their foe, Roman and Elster immediately piled on. Finally, Pol spun her greatsword in her hand and delivered a dramatic coup de gras.

The adventurers immediately searched the ogre’s leather sling-pack, finding 331 Gold Crowns and an oily phial of liquid that felt oddly “sharp” and hot to the touch. 

As if that wasn’t a rough enough start, the weather above ground was absolutely terrible. It was unusually cold for a late Solstice day, with driving rain, wind, thunder and lightning. Knowing that Giran’s condition was only getting worse, the Fellowship decided to grit their collective teeth and move out, carefully trying to pick their path through the Broken Lands. Given the steep decent, treacherous terrain and jagged rocks underfoot, this was certainly no easy task.

At one point, Roman lost his grip on the pallet and it slid out from underneath him, bowling him over. Bria tried to snatch the wooden stretcher as it slid towards her, but she missed it. Elster bodily leapt onto the litter but his limbs weren't long enough to anchor it. Eventually it came to rest at the foot of a hill, leaving Giran with an additional bump on the noggin as a silent testament to this wild ride. 

Mercifully, the rain tapered off around noon and the rest of the day’s travel was largely unremarkable. Eventually the group broke for camp, finally giving them a chance to talk to Rincewind about his resurrection. After a short conversation, the “WIZZARD” confessed that he didn’t really trust the group, but he was going along with them because he thought it was his only chance to regain his memory and make it back home.  

Godsday, Solstice 29, 1492

The early-morning dampness soon gave way to vibrant sun and, by mid-day, it was hot and humid. After reaching the bottom of a gully, the heroes promptly began a new ascension. Eventually the stone underfoot got a bit smoother and now large boulders were littering the path. 

As the broken ground gave way to light scrub and trees, the climb got decidedly steeper. To the west: impenetrable forest. To the east: the shimmering expanse of a lake could be glimpsed just beyond the tree line at the bottom of a rocky embankment. Directly ahead, the shrubs and rocks divided the path into three possible routes. The crusaders decided to take the left route, and soon found themselves in a rocky clearing formed by a relatively-flat patch of tableland. Ahead they could see an inviting, but narrow, path leading back into the thick woods. 

Unfortunately, between the loud, lingering debate about which route to take next and their dense, overgrown surroundings, the group failed to notice the approach of their stealthy pursuers. Suddenly, the underbrush behind the Fellowship exploded in a wave of snarling, barking, and howling as a pack of four wolves bearing diminutive goblin riders charged at them. Taken by surprise, the adventurers were momentarily caught flat-footed. 

Two of the riders circled around the rocks to try and cut off the group. At the back of the pack, Lorelei and Rincewind were pounced upon by two more of the beasts.  After having his arm crippled by a Goblin’s morning star, Rincewind attempted to swig one of his healing potions. Unfortunately he ended up drinking a tiny amount of poison that he was also keeping in his backpack by mistake. Instantly, the “WIZZARD” became violently ill. 

Lorelei cast "Burning Hands", charring the goblin rider and wolf duo intent on her blood. She took a nasty bite in retaliation but, just as she was about to have her throat ripped out, Elster came to the rescue. At the same time, Pol launched herself from the top of a large boulder at the lead goblin rider, impaling it spear-style with her greatsword. 

Meanwhile, at the front of the pack, Bria managed to perforate one of the wolves before she got pounced on by another. Roman performed double-duty, healing her while fending off his own feral opponent. 

Lorelei blasted the now rider-less wolf with a "Ray of Frost." That same wolf received a sound smash upside the head as Elster tried to ward the beast away from Rincewind’s prone form. Pol then rushed up from behind and split the animal’s hind quarters abroad with a double-handed chop, just as Roman subdued the wolf intent on chomping down on his neck. 

Deciding that discretion was now the better part of valor, the last goblin expertly leapt from his dead mount and scampered away. At that same moment, Bria got mauled by the wolf stalking her and Roman rushed in to try and distract it. Now a whirling dervish, Pol jumped in to finish the deed as Elster attempted to stabilize the poisoned Rincewind.    

After recovering from this unexpected battle, the group found 87 Gold Crowns on the dead goblins, as well as a pretty blue quartz gemstone.

Thankfully, the rest of the day was uneventful. That evening, while settling in for the night, Lorelei noticed that Rincewind wasn’t studying his spell-book. 

Pffft, I already read it,” he said dismissively while scrutinizing an odd-looking rock. “Why would I want to read it again? It’s not exactly a page-turner!” 

Lorelei settled into her bedroll, but had a hard time sleeping as she pondered the dark implications of Rincewind’s seemingly-effortless new displays of power and knowledge.

Waterday, Solstice 30’th, 1492

Although it clouded over and threatened rain early the next morning, the mid-day sun emerged triumphant and burned away the gloom. The Fellowship made its way through a well-worn path with tall trees to the left and right, waist-high ferns and needle-covered roots and boulders underfoot. The air was humid, but fresh, with the smell of pine, peat and plants still in full bloom.

“How in Pelor’s name do the dwarves get horses through these trails to transport goods?” Roman growled.

“We dwarves don’t typically trust horses with such precious cargo,” Elster reminded. “More often than not, we just carry the goods to Castebridge on our backs.”

After getting whacked in the face with a half-dozen tree branches, Bria insisted on moving to the front of the marching order. Not long after, she halted the procession after an orange length of rope lying across the path suddenly started moving! Upon closer inspection, she realized that the “rope” had beady eyes and was sampling the air with its flicking black tongue! After spooking the snake as much as it spooked her, the creature turned tail and wriggled back into the woods, allowing the group to press on.  

Although the path was reasonably clear, at one point the heroes were forced to leap across some rocks to cross a small river. During the crossing, Rincewind’s luck went from bad to worse as he sprained his ankle, further hampering the group’s travelling speed. Roman also stumbled, losing a few items out of his backpack in the process.   

Close to dusk, the group approached a river.  As they broke into the clearing, Bria and Lorelei heard an alarming “PFFFFFTT!” sound.

“DUCK!” Lorelei yelled.

“Ambush!” Bria echoed. “Take cover!”

A platoon of orc archers sprang up out of concealment and launched a coordinated sniper attack, but thanks to the keen ears of the thief and the mage, they all missed their marks. A pitched ranged battle quickly ensued. 

Knowing that she’d be more effective in close combat, Pol slid down the bank and began to wade across the river, all the while dodging a deadly hail of bow-fire. Unfortunately, she was so preoccupied by her quarry that she failed to notice a massive black-and-grey river spider lurking just under the bridge. As soon as the creature spied her, it skittered down to the base of the stone bridge to intercept her.


After casting a completely random “Truestrike” spell on himself, Rincewind got into a long-range shootout with the orc commander, first softening him up with a "Magic Missile" to the face and then nailing him with a couple of crossbow bolts. Elster’s aim also proved true as he hit another orc right between the eyes. Bria got clipped with an enemy barb, but diligently returned fire, covering the approach of her allies. 

While attempted to cross the rocks, the spider got swept up by a sudden surge of rushing water and was promptly carried downriver. With its eight spindly legs displacing its body out of the water, the critter spiraled close to some shoals, secured its footing and then skittered up onto the bank. Her path now unopposed, Pol completed her crossing and surged up the hillock. 

After casting a quick “Bless” spell, Roman charged across the river after the warrior. Although he stumbled when the water got waist-deep, he still managed to keep his footing in the roiling waters. Just as the cleric crested the hill, he spied a figure on horseback half way up the trail.

"Wait, is that Duran?" Roman muttered to himself, stunned by the incongruous sight of the Chief Bailiff of Castebridge. 

As soon as the horseman recognized the heroes, he immediately turned his mount around, spurred it into a hard gallop and raced back up the trail. 

Roman moved to give chase but was forced to deflect a point-blank arrow and then close with his assailant. Focused only on the closest orc, Pol hurled herself into combat, surprising one of the creatures with her unerring speed. It tried to cast down its bow and draw its sword, but by the time its blade cleared the scabbard, it was already too late. 

When the spider arrived at the top of the hill, it spied motion from the orcs and immediately charged at them. Within moments, the massive arachnid had poisoned one and was dragging the hapless creature back into the underbrush! Adding to the chaos, Lorelei cast “Summon Animal”, and the conjured mystical badger immediately charged into the fray. Assailed from every angle, the orcs soon collapsed into a rout.

Among their dead assailants, the Fellowship found 46 Gold Crowns, 4 longbows (identical to the ones used by the Castebridge town guard!) and a note written in common which read:

Destroy the bridge and guard the pass.

Ambush and kill any dwarf refugees, survivors and merchants.

Above all, make sure that the humans don’t get across the river alive. 

The group noticed that these orcs also bore the standard of the bloody crescent moon, the same brand that Bria had been tagged with as a child.

After recovering from the battle, the Fellowship decided to move off the main trail and break camp for the night.    

Earthday, Earthlife 1st, 1492

The following morning the adventurers pressed on to Castebridge, anticipating an arrival before noon. As the sun crept up overhead, it became blazingly-hot on the forest trail, and soon everyone was sweating profusely under their heavy cloaks and armor. 

Eventually the canopy of trees overhead cleared and the group emerged out of the hills and into light scrub. This soon gave way to knee-high grasslands, which could be seen swaying in the distance right up to the town walls. Feeling the warm, reassuring heat of the sun on their bodies and the cool breeze coming across the field, the crusaders suddenly felt refreshed and fortified. 

But half-way to the gates, the sky clouded over and the heroes felt a loud gust of wind above their heads. They looked up to see a massive, bat-shaped creature diving straight towards them: presumably the same young red dragon that destroyed Vanguard Tower at Kiras Toth! The Fellowship watched, terror-stricken as the dragon shot back up into the air, banked sharply and dove down again for another pass. 

Sensing that their only chance for survival was to reach the town’s defensive perimeter, the adventurers charged into a flat-out sprint, which quickly degenerated into a marathon endurance run. The dragon strafed down again and again amidst the pack, badly clawing up both Lorelei and Rincewind. Tired of being used as the creature’s plaything, Elster stopped running and decided to take a stand, but got mercilessly slashed up for this act of valor.  

Half-way to the north gates, the group could see a small handful of longbow-armed guards manning the battlements, led by Berowne, the Captain of the Guard, and Fellowship alumni Barant des Apres. They were clearly readying their weapons and preparing to cover the town’s champions as soon as they made it within range. 

As they got closer, they witnessed Duran de Montford appear from out of nowhere and order the guards to seal the gate and take cover behind the wall. Berowne and Barant immediately ignored this and commanded the guards to stay put. During the heat of battle, Duran slunk away down below, only to re-appear in a successful bid to get the north gates locked up tight.    

Watching helplessly as the portcullis slammed shut, the group decided to join Elster in a brave last stand. After the dragon pitched down between the Fellowship and the town wall, the crimson wyrm began to toy with its human prey. Rincewind and Lorelei gamely hammered the creature with "Magic Missiles" and "Frost Rays", but the damage seemed akin to insect bites. All the while, Bria fired off a constant barrage of crossbow bolts, also to little discernible effect.  

When Pol managed to bury her sword in the creature’s leg, the dragon’s attacks immediately went from play-time to murderous. The warrior woman was the first to experience the beast’s genuine wrath, slashing her with such force that she was launched into the air. Frustrated by his inability to reason with the beast and seeing his brave ally nearly eviscerated, Rincewind’s eyes suddenly filmed over.

To everyone’s shock, the "WIZZARD" stretched his hand out and three massive boulders lying nearby flew through the air, striking the dragon full-bore, knocking it back into the gate and breaking it off its hinges. Try as he might, the “WIZZARD” attempted to duplicate this remarkable feat, but this unexpected wellspring of mystical energy seemed to be spent.   

Peppered by arrows and wounded by the stony projectiles, the creature launched itself skyward, its wings frantically beating at the air, propelling it back north in a hasty retreat. After taking an inventory of this miraculous turn of events, the group limped through the shattered town gates. 

Berowne and Barant scrambled down off the wall to offer concern and congratulations. Denneth, the town Major, suddenly materialized from out of nowhere to pepper the heroes with a constant barrage of rapid-fire questions. All the while, Duran de Montford was skulking around in the background and scowling at these unpredictable turn of events. 

With Giran still at death’s door, the group was forced to ignore all of these theatrics and bring cart him off to Moira at the abbey. Within minutes, she'd stabilized the poisoned dwarf with her healing arts, all the while directing a few acerbic barbs towards Roman for his long absence. 

When quizzed about his sudden. magic-based flex, Rincewind once again claimed to have no memory of what had happened. In fact, he didn't even seem to believe his friend's first-hand account of the battle! 

When the Fellowship turned on Duran, he claimed that he was just acting in the town’s best interest, insisting that it’s standard procedure to seal the gates and get the sentries off the wall when the town “eez attacked by so formidable a foe.”    

Accusing the Chief Bailiff of plotting against them, the heroes presented their evidence to Denneth. Not only did Roman testify that Duran turned tail and ran away during the ambush, they presented the longbows, the severed head of the orc chieftain and, most importantly, the note.  

Seeing that the longbows were indeed Casterbridge town guard standard issue and swayed by Roman’s conviction, the Mayor quickly turned a critical eye on the Bailiff. 

Duran swore up and down that he no-where near the battle. Before anyone could ask him for an alibi. Denneth gasped audibly at the note:

“Your right...this note was indeed written by a trusted member of the town. But this isn’t Duran’s hand-writing...it’s Stefan's!” 

The adventures stood in shocked silence as the town guard were ordered out to his home and instructed to escort the fiery young farmer straight to the stockade!

IMAGE CREDITS

Ogrehttps://www.dndbeyond.com/monsters/ogre

Goblin Warg-Riderhttps://www.deviantart.com/bruumbaraztarag/art/Yellow-Goblin-Worg-Rider-144208053

River Spider: https://dmdave.com/flying-spiders/

Young Red Dragon: https://www.dndbeyond.com/monsters/young-red-dragon

Thursday, December 2, 2021

"The Story So Far" - Part 11 - "Sometimes They Don't Come Back Quite...Right"

"The Story So Far" is an ongoing series recanting the details of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that I've been running since 2002. Links to the previous entries can be found here:  

Prologue                   Part 1                    Part 2                    Part 3              Part 4  
Part 5                        Part 6                    Part 7                    Part 8              Part 9
                                                               Part 10

I've "fictionalized" the session reports in a likely-vain attempt to make them more "entertaining."   

And now, our story continues...

***

"No!" Pol screamed, bringing her sword down in a deadly arc.

This alerted her quarry, and the potentially-deadly strike resulted in little more than a superficial flesh wound as the creature twisted around to face its assailants.

Roman swore under his breath as events continued to spiral out of control. Given the creature’s preternatural speed and agility, their strategy of flanking the beast and killing it quickly was now completely in the wind. Backed into a corner, the beast was fortified and lashing out viciously. Roman’s wild swing drove it sidelong into Elster’s reach just as the dwarf rounded the corner. The priest’s glancing blow only served to push it back into a coiled defensive stance.

As Bria moved up, swapping her crossbow for her staff, Lorelei’s Frost Ray managed to thread through the wild scrum and strike the beast. As it recoiled from the icy sting, Pol moved to the forefront. Failing to anticipate the speed of the creature, the fighter suddenly found herself on the receiving end of two barbed tentacle strikes. The first pierced the fine links of her mailed forearm and the second shredded the clasp of her cloak, taking metal links and flesh along with it. Her peers gasped collectively as the mighty warrior fell to her knees.

Channeling her pain into rage, Pol stabbed forward, catching the displacer beast in its taut, muscular shoulder. The creature spat out a savage snarl in response and slunk back, looking for another opportunity to lash out. Both Elster and Roman delivered what they thought were well-placed follow up swings, but both came up short. Bria’s next attack also looked to be perfectly gauged, but she was stunned when her battlestaff missed by a mile.

Thinking that an indirect route might be wiser, Lorelei began the process of conjuring up a creature to fight at her behest. Intrigued by the tasty-looking morsel offering itself up, the displacer beast lashed out at Elster. The dwarf took a vicious slash to the right shoulder and back, but managed to bat away the second tentacle.

As Roman healed the now worse-for-wear Pol, Elster surprised himself when a blow intended to fend off his attacker actually struck the displacer beast in the snout. Bria cursed audibly as she telegraphed another attack. Lorelei watched helplessly as her temporary familiar flailed uselessly at their quarry and the beast skillfully avoided being blinded by her "Flare" spell.

Temporarily fortified, Pol grasped her two-handed sword like a spear and launched herself at the creature. Just before colliding with her opponent, she caught a lightning-quick tentacle strike to the neck and head, stunning her. Her strike still landed true, and she managed to pin the beast to the floor. Elster piled on, bringing his hammer down on the monster’s iron-coiled haunch over and over. Roman, seeing Pol fall unconscious, launched himself at the displacer beast and delivered the killing blow to the creature’s skull. It howled and spasmed into a violent series of death throes.

The fracas finally over, Bria tried to drag Pol free of the mayhem but slipped in a pool of blood underfoot and went down. After wiping the gore from their respective weapons, Roman and Elster rushed over to aid Bria in her efforts to revive Pol. Eventually the warrior came to and sat up. Without saying a word, she got to her feet, swayed in place, pushed away several offers to help and then staggered over to where Rincewind was felled. Lorelei was already there and immediately their worst fears were confirmed.

"Poor bastard," Roman lamented. "He didn’t even know what hit him."

"At least it was quick," the sorceress added.

Pol breathed a wavering sigh, wiped blood from her eye and began to weep. The sight was so incongruous, it took her peers by surprise.

"It’s my fault," she managed to say, her voice leaden with emotion. “I couldn’t get to him in time.”

Roman shook her out of her reverie.

"No, don’t think that for a second! We had no idea that it was going to be so fast and agile!"

Sniffing back her tears, Pol bent down and gently picked up the fallen wizard. She turned towards Elster, who was observing the scene in respectful silence.

"Your people owe us," the amazon said to him

Elster nodded solemnly and soon his cheeks were stained with tears as well.

"Aye, Milady. The weight of your sacrifice isn’t lost on us and our people will forever be in your debt.”

Pol suddenly towered over the diminutive cleric, striking such an imposing presence that the dwarf shifted back a step.

"Then it’s settled," she said in reply. "You’ll bring him back."

The fighter marched out of the room on pillar-esque legs, leaving her fellow heroes standing around in stunned silence. After exchanging quizzical looks, they all began to chase after her.

"Pol, where are you going?" Roman yelled, wincing as his voice reverberated down the stone passageway. He couldn’t decide if he was more fearful now of goblin patrols or his friend’s response.

"We’re taking him to the Soul Forge," Pol intoned, her stride back to the smithy inexorable.

Upon arrival, the warrior kicked the door open and then delicately laid Rincewind’s body on a table by the bellows. Elster marched over and grabbed her by the arm as the others crowded in.

"It’s not that simple, Pol. The Forge's power is exclusively the domain of Parn Golddelve, under the direction of Moradin himself. Others have tried to use it and...well..."

"Well, what?" Roman demanded.

Elster shuffled nervously in place before responding.

"A few years ago, one of nobles from the Undercity was killed in a freak mine accident not far from here. His aides had heard tales of the Soul Forge and demanded that the priest presiding over Kiras Toth in Parn’s absence use the device to bring him back. Things...didn’t go according to plan."

"What do you mean?" Pol demanded. "Did it or did it not bring him back to life?"

"Oh, it did," Elster replied, looking ill-at-ease. "But sometimes they don’t come back quite...right."

The dwarf’s words hung like a bat in the air, ready to take wing amidst the stony silence.

"Lets put it to a vote," Pol said. "If the majority of us say that it’s the right thing to do, then we’ll do it."

Pol’s hand shot up at once, followed quickly by Bria’s. Lorelei’s vote to act followed not longer after and Roman’s tentative hand make it nearly unanimous.

"Do it," Roman told Elster in a tone that didn’t invite debate.

The dwarven priest heaved a world-weary sigh.

"Let the record show that this is against my better judgment. I need you to leave me alone with him. Go back to Ulfgar’s quarters and recover what you can while I make the preparations."

Roman pondered this for a moment and decided not to press his luck. He herded everyone out of the smithy, but this time Pol didn’t let herself by moved.

"I’m staying here," she said emphatically.

"Look, if we run into anything nasty, we’re going to need our best fighter with us," Roman insisted.

Pol managed to tear her gaze away from Elster’s puttering. Instantly, her expression softened and Roman reciprocated with a smile.

"Do you trust him?" the fighter asked as they left the room to join the others. "If no-one’s there to keep an eye on him, he can just say it didn’t work and that’ll be the end of it."

"Let’s face it, even if we were all staring right over his shoulder, none of us would have a clue what he was up to," Roman replied.

Taking stock of the crestfallen looks on his friend’s faces, the cleric tried to boost their spirits on the trek back to Ulfgar’s quarters.

"Do you think it’s going to work?" Bria asked plaintively.

"Honestly, I have no idea,” Roman confessed. "The dwarves aren’t exactly renowned for their healing arts. But we’ve all seen some pretty bizarre stuff down here, so I guess anything is possible."

Aware of the constant threat of enemy reinforcements, the group did a hasty pass on the sergeant’s quarters. Even though the displacer beast prevented the invaders from sacking the room, its struggles to escape created a spectacular mess. From the chaos, the group managed to salvage Ulfgar’s masterwork warhammer, a striking-looking greatsword, a silver necklace, a potion of some sort and a painting depicting a grand battle between dwarves and goblins.

When the Fellowship returned to the Soul Forge, Elster quickly hustled everyone through the smithy and back into the corridor leading to the Forgemaster’s quarters. His shushed everyone as a flurry of questions started to fly.

"Be silent!" he implored, pushing everyone out of the room.

He shut the door behind them and then led them down the hall.

"So?" Pol demanded, no longer able to contain herself. "What happened?"

"Yeah!" Bria chimed in, getting in Elster’s path. "Is Rincewind alright?"

"Yes, yes!" the dwarf replied, sounding testy. "We just need to let him rest right now."

As the sound of jubilation filled the tight quarters, Elster winced, dropping his arms to his sides in resignation. He promptly maneuvered around Brea and entered the next room, his compatriots trailing after him.

Once inside, the Fellowship saw that Ulfgar and his ally had not been idle. The group's unexpected return distracted the sergeant from his finishing touches, and everyone crowded around to admire his handiwork. Giran was now securely trussed up in a cot and ready for transport.

Ulfgar was also delighted to have his items returned to him. He went on to explain that the warhammer was a gift from the forgemaster, and getting it back seemed to fortify him considerably. At the sight of the still-intact painting, his eyes lit up, and he proudly told everyone within ear-shot that he painted it himself. But, just as quickly, the sergeant’s mood turned somber when he noticed Rincewind’s absence. He then listened in rapt silence as the group recounted their fight with the displacer beast.

"You’ve saved us all," Ulfgar declared. "If Giran could speak, he’d offer heartfelt thanks as well as a great reward. I don’t believe I speak out of turn when I offer these tokens of appreciation to you."

After presenting the greatsword, the silver necklace and the unidentified potion to his human allies, Ulfgar invited the Fellowship to help themselves to the contents of the vault.

"We appreciate the gesture," Roman replied. "But you’ll need that gold to rebuild. Keep it."

"Wait...whut?" Bria blurted, sounding desperate.

"Besides," Roman emphatically stated, pausing momentarily to fire a stern look over his shoulder at the thief, "we’re going to have to travel lightly and we can’t be laden down with a bunch of heavy chests."

"Well, I insist on this, at the very least," Ulfgar interjected. "When everything is back to normal, I’ll personally delivery a masterwork weapon to each of you, crafted straight from the Soul Forge. As adventurers, the value of such things will easily eclipse any trinket and bauble that you’ll find lying around here."

"Pffft, doubtful," Bria mumbled, crossing her arms and drifting away. She continued to mutter this diatribe under her breath until Lorelei poked her in the ribs with an elbow.

"Well, we should get going," Roman said, sounding unconvinced by his own words.

"No, my friends," Ulfgar insisted. "The hour is very late and you’re exhausted. Get some well-earned sleep."

"But what if reinforcements show up?" Lorelei asked.

"We’ll just have to chance it," Elster spoke up. "Besides, we can’t move Rincewind yet. I’ll go back out to the Soul Forge and stay with him to make sure everything is okay."

With that, the members of the Fellowship settled down into a restless night of elusive sleep. Bria dreamt of a shower of gold coins, none of which she could catch or pick up. Roman had a nightmare about surviving the trip home, only to be cast out of the church by Moira for being absent for so long. Lorelei tossed and turned, imagining a walk through a beautiful wooden glade ending in horror as she fell into a pit and the earthen walls closed in on her. Pol had a dream about Rincewind coming back...but then suddenly turning on her and strangling her.

Solstice 27'th, Moonday

That morning, Pol excitedly woke up her allies and soon they were all crowding the entrance to the Soul Forge. Roman knocked on the door and a sleepy Elster opened it, blearily rubbing his eyes.

"Are you ready to go?" the priest of Pelor asked.

"As ready as we can be, I suppose."

"How’s Rincewind?" Pol quizzed.

"See for yourself," Elster replied, gesturing for his friends to enter.

Once inside, they saw that the “WIZZARD” was sitting hunched over a cluttered workbench, curiously examining the entire contents of his back pack and spell pouches which he’d poured out onto the table. Still clad in the torn and blood-stained remnants of his robes, he seemed nonplussed by his near-nudity. Despite his threadbare state, everyone was surprised to see that the exposed skin underneath was perfectly healed.

As the group approached, Rincewind suddenly looked up in surprise, grabbed a tiny steel bar from his tinder kit and brandished it as if trying to defend himself.

"Hey, buddy" Roman ventured, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. "How are you feeling?"

"Yes," Lorelei echoed. "Are you okay?"

The magic user blinked violently, spinning his head around as if surrounded by phantoms.

"Who...?" he began.

"Yes?" Roman said, leaning closer to hear.

"Who...?" Rincewind repeated.

"Yes?" Lorelei replied, silently imploring more words out of him.

"Who are all you weirdos?"

With that, the heroes turned and exchanged glances with each other, suspecting that their flight back to Castebridge might be the least of their immediate challenges.

Next up: 
 In a desperate, time-sensitive bid to save Giran's life, the group tries to run a deadly gauntlet from Kiras Toth to Castebridge...now with a loopy wizzard in tow! 

Image Credits

Displacer Beasthttps://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Displacer_beast

The Soul Forge: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/XBmA9l

Rincewind: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/c/c5/Rincewind.png

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

The Story So Far - Part 10 - "A Death in the Family"

"The Story So Far" is an ongoing series recanting the details of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that I've been running since 2002. Links to the previous entries can be found here:  

Prologue                    Part I                    Part II                    Part III              Part IV  
Part V                        Part VI                  Part VII                 Part VIII            Part IX 

I've "fictionalized" the session reports in a likely-vain attempt to make them more "entertaining."   

And now, our story continues...

***

"Are you taking us to where this...creature is?" Roman ventured, giving voice to the question on everyone’s mind.

"No," Elster replied. "Not yet. Before we face the beast, I thought we might seek an audience with the Lord of Kiras Toth."

"You mean..." Lorelei began.

"Yes, I'm going to take you to see Giran Oakensheild."

Elster led the group past the guard room protecting the treasure vault. The corridor narrowed suddenly and the adventurers found themselves inching through the claustrophobic gloom, looking out for enemy reinforcements.

"I cling to two faint hopes," Elster continued, his hushed voice still sounding revelatory in the stone corridor. "If Moradin should bless us, Giran has survived this ordeal and the Soul Forge remains intact."

"What’s the Soul Forge?" Roman asked.

Elster smiled wistfully as he peeked around an approaching corner.

"Merely our most inspired creation. Under Moradin’s divine inspiration, Parn Golddelve constructed the finest forge ever built by mortal hands. Not only are the weapons born from its blessing undaunted by the stoutest armor, it also has the capacity to knit together the broken bonds of body and soul."

"Wait a minute," Roman said, holding up a hand in protest. "What exactly are you saying?"

"Simply put, the Soul Forge has the power to bring the dead back to life."

Roman snorted his derision and Pol immediately smacked him in the back of the head. The priest stopped dead in his tracks and rubbed his pate, wearing an expression that communicated more shock than injury.

"What was the hell was that for?" he growled just under his breath.

"Don’t be snide," the warrior chastened him. "You of all people should show a little faith."

After muttering a litany of curses, Roman moved back to the top of the marching order. By the time he got there, Elster was already standing by a door and gesturing for everyone to fall silent. As soon as  Roman was confident that everyone was ready to act in tandem, the dwarf threw open the door to reveal a large smithy. Two large anvils sat in the center of the chamber, a huge forge and bellows filled up the northwest corner, and tools, scraps of metal and half-made suits of armor were scattered all over the floor.

Standing near the door at the south side of the smithy were four hobgoblins, arguing about something in their guttural language. As soon as the Fellowship burst through the door, they immediately looked up, drew their weapons and charged. Stunned by this sudden flood of skilled opponents, the hobgoblins were quickly overwhelmed.


After looting the scant few coins found on the dead hobgoblins, the group forged on into the L-shaped passage beyond, which was filled with racks of metal-working tools, molds and other equipment for the forge. A dead hobgoblin lay sprawled out in the crook of the passage, a crossbow bolt protruding from his left eye.

"Here, let me go first!" Elster said, maneuvering around Roman.

Just as the priest edged out around the corner, another crossbow bolt, obviously gauged for someone considerably taller, flew just above his head. As a flurry of frantic dwarven bluster and oaths were exchanged, the rest of the Fellowship rushed in to help.

"Wait!" Elster yelled, gesturing for his human allies stay back.

Roman and Pol quickly backed off, but not before noticing the glitter of fleeting armor ten feet down the hall as a door slammed shut. This was followed by the squeal of metal on metal as a door jamb was driven home.

"Hold up back here until I make sure it’s safe!" the dwarven cleric shouted back to his peers.

Elster began shuffling down the corridor, his shield held high, all the while speaking soothing words in his native tongue. The sound of the door bolt re-opening tempted Rincewind and Bria to take a peek, but Roman quickly shot them a dirty look. A second dwarven voice joined the parley and quickly the tones changed from warning and belligerent to penitent and dismissive.

 "You can come out now!" Elster called back over his shoulder.

Our heroes rushed out of concealment to see another twitchy-looking dwarf warrior standing by Elster in a doorway at the far end of a corridor, his heavy crossbow resting on his shoulder and pointing up towards the ceiling. As the group closed up ranks, they managed to catch the tail end of the conversation, but Bria was completely distracted by the presence of a large key dangling from a thin chain around the guard’s neck.

"Kadre, my apologies," the dwarven warrior said, still eyeing the humans warily. "The last face that came around that corner was not nearly so friendly."

"Speak nothing of it," Elster replied. "Given everything you’ve been through, you were well within your rights to perforate me. I shouldn’t have barged out without announcing myself first."

Elster introduced the dwarven fighter as Ulfgar, sergeant-at-arms to Giran Oakenshield.

“It’s to his credit that Kiras Toth hasn’t completely foundered under this invasion,” Elster whispered to his peers as Ulfgar turned back towards the door.  

“He looks like he’s on the verge of collapse,” Roman observed.

“Likely a symptom of running on stress instead of sleep for the past three days,” Pol replied.

Ulfgar heaved open the stout portal and invited the Fellowship to follow him. The room inside was a sparsely-decorated chamber that appeared to be the living quarters of a single dwarf. There was a table cluttering the middle of the small room, with a heavy  crossbow and a case with six bolts sitting on top of it. Two chairs were positioned just askew.

In the southeast corner of the room, a dwarf stood next to a bed, holding a wet cloth to the forehead of its unconscious occupant. Ulfgar quickly led the Fellowship over to this morose scene, his finger still resting on the trigger of his weapon, as if ready to respond to another incursion at a moment’s notice. When the group clustered around the wounded dwarf, Elster stifled a gasp.

"Giran Oakenshield, I presume?" Lorelei muttered.

"Aye," replied Ulfgar. "We were trying to hold back a swarm of goblins when a column of their archers appeared down another corridor. Giran was grazed by one of their arrows and dropped like a stone. We fell back here, to the Forgemaster’s Quarters, since we knew we could bottleneck the entrance."

Elster paused to examine the comatose dwarf.

"He’s barely wounded," the dwarf cleric noted. “Poison?”

The dwarf tending to Giran nodded solemnly.

"Thankfully this room has proven to be quite defensible," Ulfgar sighed, collapsing into one of the chairs. "But we’ve been trapped here ever since you left."

Both Roman and Elster turned their healing arts to the dwarven Lord, but this yielded no perceptible results.

"We need to get him out of here," Roman concluded. "Only a cleric blessed by Pelor’s highest favors  can purge this toxin from his body. And trust me, my favors from Pelor a few and far between..."

"What are you proposing?" Elster quizzed.

"We’ll bring him back to Castebridge. The head of my order, Moira, will help him."

Ulfgar sprang up, grabbed the priest by the arm and spun him around.

"You can’t move him in this condition. He’ll die!"

"I don’t think so," Roman replied. "It’s not like he’s bleeding out. Whatever this poison is, it seems to have put him into a state of hibernation. Moving him isn’t all that risky but, if he stays here, you’ll lose him for sure!"

"Yes, but he’ll be vulnerable!" Ulfgar shot back.

"Not while we’re guarding him," Pol suddenly thundered, moving to the forefront.

"Besides, your defenses are shattered," Lorelei piled on. "Do you honestly think you can protect him if another wave of hobgoblins and ogres comes through here?"

Between the titanic fighter’s confidence and the elf’s cold logic, any remaining opposition melted away.  

"Alright then," muttered the dwarven fighter. "I’ll let you take him out of here, but before we move him, we need to make sure the fortress is completely secured."

"We’ve very nearly accomplished that,” Elster said. “We just need to deal with whatever is locked up in the barracks.”

"Actually, I think it’s locked up in my chambers," Ulfgar replied. "The last time I walked by, I heard it clawing at the door, so it’s probably only a matter of time before it breaks out and runs amok."

"Um, so, what exactly is this thing that’s all amok-y and such?" Rincewind spoke up.

"It’s called a displacer beast," Ulfgar offered. "Nasty little bugger. Vicious in a fight and virtually impossible to land a strike on."

"Hey, if this thing’s so dangerous maybe we should just leave it locked up?" Bria ventured.

"I won’t take that chance," Ulfgar said, shaking his head. "I don’t want to get halfway to the exit and have that thing pounce on us from behind."

"Alright, alright," Roman shouted. "We’ll take care of it. I’ll need you two to stay here, break down his bed and make some sort of pallet out of it so we can carry him out of here. Come on, let’s get this over with."

"Wait, I have something for you," Ulfgar said.

He took the chain with the key off of his neck and handed it to Roman.

"This key opens the door to the armory. You might be able to use something in there against the beast. At the very least, having access to my quarters from another direction could give you a few more  tactical options."

Their determination now re-forged, the Fellowship ventured back out into the main hall and made their way towards their final challenge. After leaving the chamber housing the Soul Forge, they turned a sharp right and Elster led the group forty feet north before veering ninety degrees left into a small alcove. Suddenly the heroes were confronted with the choice of two doors.

"What are our options?" Roman whispered.

"The door on the left here is for the barracks. Just ahead on the right is the door to Ulfgar’s quarters," Elster replied.

"And that’s where there this thing is supposed to be, right?"

A stern nod was all the dwarf could muster. In response, Lorelei crept up to the door and placed her ear to the portal. Roman glared at her as she elbowed past him.

"What are you...?"

The sorceress put a slender finger up to her mouth to silence his protests.

"Just be careful," the cleric added, barely above a whisper.

A tense moment passed as Lorelei strained to hear anything beyond the door. Finally satisfied, she backed off towards her peers.

“There’s definitely something not human in there."

"What does it sound like?" Rincewind asked, his pained facial expression hinting that he didn’t want to hear the answer.

"Honestly, it sounds like...purring," Lorelei replied, looking slightly puzzled.

"Roman, let me go in," Bria suddenly blurted, gesturing towards the door on the right.

"No, absolutely not," the cleric said. "It’s too dangerous."

"No, listen, I’m just going to sneak in and have a look. Just to see what the situation is."

"And what are you going to do when that...thing wakes up and tries to rip your face off?"

Bria snorted her derision and moved past the group.

"Well, I just won’t let that happen," she said, smiling from ear-to-ear.

"Wow, she’s completely insane," Rincewind whispered to Pol, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Bria snuck up to the door, took hold of the handle and gently tried to open it. Try as she might, she couldn’t budge the portal.

"Damn, it’s stuck," she hissed.

Slowly everyone turned to look at Pol. The amazon sighed, shook her head and edged up to the door. Seconds after bracing her ample frame up against the barrier, she managed to open it up a crack. Everyone winced and readied their weapons as a faint scraping sound reverberated around the bare, stony hallway.

"What?" she angrily demanded. "I’d like to see any of you do better."

Bria felt the taste in her mouth suddenly turn sour and metallic. After making a final attempt to rally her courage, she tip-toed into the dark, narrow corridor, the aperture of her hooded lantern muted as dimly as possible.

Twenty feet down the hall, the passageway opened up into a tiny room. Bria quickly took stock of the place, spying a small desk, an overturned chair, a scattering of papers, clothing and personal items, an empty armor / weapon rack and a dwarf-sized bed...with a massive panther curled up on it. To the thief’s horror, the creature cracked open an eye and the two large tentacles attached to its shoulders began to twitch.

The footpad immediately backed off, quickening her pace towards the door, hearing the bed creak as she rounded the bend. Suspecting that she only had seconds to live if she maintained the same pace, Bria made the decision to turn and bolt towards the doorway.

"Guys! The door! Shut the door! NOW!" she screamed as she cleared the threshold.

After bringing the door to, Pol and Roman put all of their weight behind it. Despite their best efforts, the hinges nearly flew off as a powerful force brought up hard against it on the other side. The fighter and priest backed off only when they were convinced that the door would weather the flurry of hissing, banging and scratching coming from the other side.

"Yeah, we aren’t going that way," Bria said, puffing out short breaths, shaking her hands and hopping from one foot to another in an amped-up jig.

Pol assumed a combat stance and drew her sword.

"Open the door, Roman...let’s be done with it!"

"No, wait!" Elster protested. "There’s another way through the barracks!"

The dwarf gestured for his allies to follow him, and they practically fell over each other in their haste to  get away from the awful cacophony coming from behind the door. Pol lingered, allowing herself a moment of amusement as Roman tried vainly to drag her away. Chuckling at the futility of his efforts, the warrior slapped the priest across the shoulders and let herself be guided away.

Elster led them back down the corridor to the door they’d passed on the left. Beyond this was a large room lined with a dozen dwarf-sized bunks, all of which in a similar state of destruction. Twelve empty footlockers were also scattered across the floor, their contents torn to shreds. A dead goblin lay near a door to the north, its body scorched and burnt.

The room yielded little of value, and eventually the Fellowship began to coalesce around the northern door to the north, the charred corpse of the goblin deterring even the curious Bria from going any further.

"I believe there’s a flame trap above the door," Elster recalled. "Do you see it?"

"Yep," Bria replied. "Thanks for the head’s up. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anything like that before, but I should have it deactivated in a moment."

The thief proved true to her word, and soon the door was cast open, revealing a small chamber beyond with racks filled with weapons and dwarf-sized armor. Although many of the items were clearly missing, the room didn’t look ransacked like the rest of the fortress.

The adventures took a quick stock of their surroundings, locating four war axes, two crossbows, two cases of bolts with twenty missiles in total, two suits of mail and two shields, each of the latter bearing  the same warhammer-and-anvil insignia as Giran Oakenshield’s signet ring. And while a few of the heroes helped themselves to the crossbow bolts and back-up weapons, the armor was only helpful to Elster.

"There’s no other door in here," Pol observed after the inspection had ended.

"Like the vault, there’s a secret door in here somewhere," Elster replied. "Unfortunately, I don’t know where it is; I have so little cause to come in here."

"I’ll find it!" Lorelei proclaimed brightly, going to work immediately.

Bria pitched in and, within minutes, the secret door to Ulfgar’s quarters was revealed.

"Now what?" Pol inquired.

"Good question," Bria echoed. "It doesn’t matter what direction we approach in, we’ll still have barely any room to maneuver when we fight that thing."

"Right," Roman said. "We need to lure it back into the barracks. Even the corridors outside won’t give us enough space to flank the thing."

"Yeah, well, my luring days are over!" Bria laughed.  "I only brought one change of pantaloons!"

"Wait a minute!" Lorelei said, snapping her fingers. "I’ve got a new spell that just might help. Let’s go back out to the barracks."

Once there, the sorceress began chanting in earnest. The group braced themselves for something dramatic, but were soundly disappointed when her verbal stylings ended in dead silence.

"Wow...spectacular," Bria said sarcastically.

Before Lorelei could reply with a healthy dose of vitriol, Rincewind came to the defense of his fellow magic-wielder.

"What’s wrong with you idiots?" he chided. "Can’t you see it? It’s standing over there plain as day!"

"See what?" Pol replied, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Get him to do something cool, Lor," Rincewind enthused, clapping his hands together like a pleased infant.

Despite being slightly disturbed that Rincewind could actually see her “Unseen Servant”, the mysterious sorceress instructed her creation to pick up a nearby blanket and cloak itself, instantly defining its shape and form.

"What the hell is it?" Roman asked.

"That’s not important," Lorelei replied. "What matters is that it can open the secret door and lure that creature out. As soon as it’s in the room we’ll all jump out and swarm the thing!"

Her peers mulled over the plan and seemed to approve. Soon Roman made it official.

"Okay, it sounds crazy enough to work. Everyone hunker down...let’s go!"

The Fellowship scrambled around the room, trying to find suitable hiding places. After settling in, Elster cast a “Blessing” on his fellow heroes. The mounting tension was relieved somewhat as Pol audibly swore as she struggled to find suitable concealment close to the door.

As the Unseen Servant slowly turned the bolt to open the secret door, everyone felt their innards turn to ice. This feeling only intensified when the sound of grinding stone signaled that the door was slowly being pulled open. Tense moments passed before the group began to hear sniffing, growling and the unmistakable sound of claws scratching on flagstone as their foe padded into the armory.

Now revealed in the half-light, the creature lived up to its fearsome reputation. Resembling a lean but muscular panther, the displacer beast had a sheen of purple-black fur, six powerful legs and a pair of tentacles sprouting from its shoulders which ended in barbed, ridged pads.

More out of shock than careful aim, Bria let a crossbow bolt loose and it completely telegraphed the stealthy target. Throwing caution to the wind, Lorelei stepped up and blasted the creature with a fan of flames from her fingertips. The beast sprang away from the fire as if stung, landing uncomfortably close to Rincewind, who hastily fired off an unerring magical energy bolt from his fingertip, striking the creature flush in its snarling face.

The monster immediately arched its back, spat out a sibilant hiss and then lashed out with its two tentacles, pinning Rincewind’s spindly arms to his torso. Before Pol could slash at these bonds, the tentacles pulled back, spinning Rincewind like a human top as it sawed effortlessly through his cloak and skin. The barbed pads at the end of the tentacles completed the kill, tearing away fabric and flesh in one awful motion.

"Ouch," Rincewind muttered before falling to the floor, dead as a stone.

Next up: With one of their numbers already lost, the Fellowship find themselves in a life-or-death battle that threatens to claim them all!

IMAGE CREDITS

Dwarf Crossbowman:  https://dwarffortresswiki.org/index.php/DF2014:Crossbowman

Goblin: https://the-avocado.org/2017/12/03/dd-inaugural-campaign-day-one/

Hobgoblin: https://chroniclesofarn.fandom.com/wiki/Blackspear_Tribe

Displacer Beasthttps://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Displacer_beast