Attronarch's Athenaeum

Campaign journals, reviews of TTRPG stuff, and musings on D&D.

Next Wednesday I will be taking a night bus to Frankfurt, Germany to attend Cauldron, “an OSR Euro Con.” This year the con will run four days, with packed schedule: old-school games, Chainmail competition, AD&D tournament, you name it.

I will be running four OD&D games using little brown books only:

  • Thursday Block II Halls of Viridian Mist: You fell down the pit trap. Now you are rolling in a pile of refuse while green mist is making you gag. Will you get out alive? Or will you feed what lurks beyond the haze?
  • Friday Block I Abattoir of The Impotent Idolater: The Golden Eagle has gone missing. Gore-ladden trail leads to the cave deep in the woods. Tales of monstrous abominations run amok. Will you be the ones rescuing this holy regalia from the den of evil?
  • Saturday Night Block Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Do you dare leave your mark in the Barbarian Altanis? Will you feed the insatiable hunger of antediluvian ruins? Session 197 of our ongoing campaign.
  • Sunday Block I The Darkness Beneath Megadungeon: Can you survive the Warrens of the Troglodytes?

Below are my thoughts and reflections on preparing for the con. They build on my previous preparations.

Selecting adventures to run

Since I knew this would be an incredibly busy year for me, I planned in advance. Three of four sessions would use adventures, while the campaign session would be emergent. Last one, technically, demands a lot of preparation, but all of it is done in weekly increments so it spreads out.

I authored two out of three adventure I will run, so that minimised the time investment as well. First, Halls of Viridian Mist, is a Jaquays tribute dungeon. It features many twists, turns, secrets behind secrets, factions, and more. I ran this twice, and it was a howling success both times. Players will be pressured to think and act quickly, for viridian mist is ever hungry.

Abattoir of The Impotent Idolater is based on an adventure site from our very own campaign. It left such a mark on the players they deemed it worthy of Wilderlands Hall of Fame and commissioned legendary Stephen Poag to illustrate The Abomination which gave them nightmares. Players will have to be both careful and daring, or else risk suffering horrible fates.

My good friend Mitch Hyde encouraged me over the years to write it down. I finally did, and it will be published in the con exclusive zine Beneath the Black Pyramid. Andrew Walter did an absolutely amazing illustration for it, capturing the vile atmosphere down to a v.

Warrens of the Troglodytes is one of the levels of the legendary, community-driven Darkness Beneath Megadungeon. If you think Tucker's Kobolds were bad, wait until you experience the Attronarch's Trogs. Hero level characters, first level dungeon, maximum level threat. Also, the chief editor of Fight On! zine will be at the con as well, available to answer questions about the megadungeon.

Last year Conquering the Barbarian Altanis session attracted 17 players, and lasted well into the night, going for some six hours or so. It was both the largest and longest game of the con, albeit unplanned. Everything that happened then impact the campaign world, leaving a lasting mark. This year will be no different. The session is open to anyone willing to endure the savagery of the Barbarian Altanis. Expedition plan will be decided on the spot, by the players who attend. Several of our regular players will be there, but everyone gets a vote. Players can expect total freedom and opportunity to leave a lasting impression on an ongoing campaign.

Preparing supporting material

Due to how I run the game, I just need a battle-mat, markers, wiping cloth, and dice. Players bring their own dice. As I wrote before, I find OD&D just perfect for con games:

One of the reasons I prefer running OD&D at cons is because of how lean and fast it is. It is mostly rolling d6s and d20s, options and spells are limited (just compare Cleric spell lists in Men & Magic to the one in Greyhawk), there are only three classes, and contains only the most essential procedures for running underworld and wilderness adventures. Perfect!

Since reference materials are re-usable, I simply printed what I had prepared last year:

  • Judge reference sheets
  • Cleric and Magic-User spell references
  • character overview
  • 80 character sheets

An attentive, eagle-eyed reader might notice that characters have suspiciously similar attribute scores to those from the last year. Indeed, I just changed the names and few optical elements. Creating new characters is the most time consuming activity, so I re-purposed as much of the work that I could. Also, I wonder how many will make it to the end of the con this year...

Choosing games to join

When I learned the con would be four days I rejoiced, because I thought it'd be easier to join all the games I wanted to partake in. Oh, how wrong I was. The agenda is absolutely packed with great sessions. Games offered span OD&D, AD&D, retroclones, Chainmail, and naval battles.

On Thursday I plan to join EOTB's Convention Dungeon's; after that I will run Halls of Viridian Mist until everyone dies or escapes. On Friday morning, after a hearty breakfast, I will run Abattoir of The Impotent Idolater, and then spend rest of the day playing. I am eyeing Palace of the Eternal Autocrat with Gabor Lux, THALANÛR: Against the Pale Citadel with Dreadlord, Sunken Redoubt of the Serpentine Lich with Ignatius Umlaut, and Army of Madness with Settembrini.

Next day I plan to join Temple of the Gnoll God with Keith Sloan, and Return to the Storm Giant's Castle with Ignatius Umlaut. The latter will surely be a blast, for it is an unofficial sequel to one of the worst Judges Guild adventures. I will finish Saturday by running the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis night session. I am curious to see where the players take it! There is only one slot on Sunday, and as usual, I will run a Darkness Beneath Megadungeon level.

Looking forward to next week. Let me know if you are attending, and come say hi even if we don't play together.

#Convention #Cauldron #OSR #FightOn

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ainsley Human Ranger level 1 An older gentleman with a groomed moustache and a wooden pipe in his mouth, covered in dark green cloak.
Ambros Human Cleric level 7 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Balarus Human Fighter level 4 An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow.
Hedwig Hogwarts Elf Fighter / magic-user An always alert owl masquerading as an elf.
Ivor Human Cleric level 1 A young, soft-spoken worshipper of Umannah with thick black beard.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Tarkus the Promising Human Cleric level 5 Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Thorinda Bung Human Monk level 4 She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.
Volkard Human Ranger level 1 Bushy hobo from the wilderness.
Wilbalt Abendeurer Human Fighter level 3 A burly blonde barbarian; Warmund's younger brother and a better swordsman of the two.

Flowerbloom 17th, Waterday

“Come, touch me some more...” brass door face beckoned Ivor.

But Ivor was busy—busy staying alive!

Balarus, Ainsley, Thorinda Bung, Aurella, Tam, and Ivor had just finished fighting five muscular green brutes. The beasts had no head, eyes instead of nipples, and wide mouth crossing their chest.

Bright light flashed before them, blinding them. Ambros, Wilbalt, and an unknown bushy man appeared in the chamber ahead of them. The trio was flanked by four pits filled with content most foul: excrement, bile, and something yellow.

“Watch out!”

Another headless brute approached from the east.

“Oh no!” Thorinda gulped as she ran around the corner only to illuminate two more. But with her lantern they got a feeling for the whole chamber. It was seventy feet long and sixty feet wide. A total of five potential egresses: three framed stone slabs with a musical note on them, two on the north wall, one on the west wall, and one framed waterfall to the south, east from the corridor they came through. And a dozen of iron-ringed pits filled with dizzying contents.

Three brutes were present in total, two walking towards them between the pits, and one standing in a semi-circular alcove to the far east. The last one held a crossbow.

Adventurers fanned out. Balarus, Volkard, and Ainsley ran to the shit-pits, and shot at the crossbow wielding monster. They noticed it looked slightly different, wearing broad nipple-goggles.

“THROW THEM INTO THE BILE!” the goggly brute yelled. Two other brutes complied and began grappling with their opponents. Thorinda, an experienced martial artist, contorted and dodged the clumsy beast, tripping and stunning it in the process. Drunkard Tam, on the other hand, got manhandled, like he is used to.

The brute lifted Tam like a little child; it carried him as others slashed and smashed it; and it chucked the cleric into a vat full of concentrated bile. Dressed in chainshirt, Tam sank like a rock.

It burned. It burned a lot. And it hurt. It hurt a lot.

“EAT SHIT!” goggly brute yelled and shot back at Balarus. The man was hurt, but the monster was soon put down, looking like a dead porcupine. Ivor the Brave smashed the chest-mouthed beast that chucked Tam. He hit it just bellow the mouth, where a normal man's solar plexus would be, caving its chest in. Thorinda glaived the stunned one through its nipple-eye, exiting through the ribcage.

Wilbalt threw his axe to the side, grabbed a polearm, and ran to the pit containing half dissolved Tam. In panic, and cursed by soberness of pain, Tam attempted to doff his chainmail. But his eyes burned, and his fingers were clumsy. When he felt something hitting him on the head he grabbed on that in desperation.

This was a fine decision, for it was the blunt side of the polearm. Ambros, Ivor, and Ainsley jumped in to help Wilbalt, and dragged the cleric out.

A flash or red light blinded everyone. Tarkus the Promising and Hedwig of Hogwarts materialised in the centre of the chamber.

Victorious but battered, the clerics cast healing spells, while others bound their wounds, counted the dead, and took a breather. They organised into two groups, one led by Bily Tam and another by Ranger Ainsley.

Tam was joined by Wilbalt, Balarus, Thorinda, and Hedwig.

Ivor, Volkard, Ambros, and Tarkus joined Ainsley.

The teams spread out and began investigating the chamber.

There were twelve pits in total, organised into four columns and three rows. All had an elevated iron ring around them. In the first row, from left to right, pits were filled with: a grey and foetid, soupy mix of bone chips and necrotic flesh; a sticky, yellowish-orange liquid that quivers; a pale, slimy, milky-white liquid; and what looked and smelled like stomach acid. In the second row: two pits with liquid excrement with floating chunky bits; a misty, silvery, see-through substance; and another bile pit. Third row, same order: a bile pit that Tam took a dive in; another yellow-orange pit; another bile pit; and one more silvery, wispy pit.

Arrow-filled brute laid dead in what could, at best, be described as some sort of magical circle. Nobody dared stepped into it, so they dragged the corpse out of it instead. They took its goggles and attempted to convince Thorinda to wear them. Alas, she was way too lithe.

Stone slabs looked pretty much like the slabs on the lower level; the ones they had to blow in order for them to open. Yellowish, sticky substance was baked into the floor right in front the north-east slab. Finally, a corridor was visible beyond the framed waterfall.

Tam and his men investigated the yellowed doors. Once at safe distance, Ivor passed the blood-caked, filthy, flute to Ambros. Cleric blew on it. Barbs tore into his lips and tongue, injuring him. No divine words will be spoken coherently for some time.

Slab slid upward, and yellowish fumes billowed out, dissipating in the chamber. Thirty foot corridor led into a circular chamber with four skeletons stirring something in a pit below them. The skeletons wore thick goggles, aprons, and gloves. They used long pitchforks to stir a mass of something.

Tam gang rolled in, while Ainsley crew investigated beyond the waterfall. A wondrous sight, down a corridor leading into a pool of clear water, filled with colourful corals. Natural light shining through two horizontal slits illuminated the whole chamber. An opaque membrane was in each slit, softening and diffusing the sunlight.

“Hold me back, I am going for a swim!” Hedwig was eager.

“No, let's see if there is anything inside first!”

“Good idea. Let's chop up some of those guys!”

And it was indeed a good idea. A swarm of long, slimy, crimson tentacles tore the severed arm to pieces. They retracted to the sides. Serene blue has been violated with frothy red.

Drawing by Anthony.

Balarus shot at the membranes, shattered each like they were glass.

“I still wanna go for a swim!”

“No, come on, let's go.”

Once back into the pit chamber, Ainsley team quickly realised that the stone slab had shut behind Tam's gang. One of the clerics banged on it. Ambros blew Ivor's flute once more, and the doors opened.

Four skeleton-chefs were destroyed; the mass they stirred bas a smouldering, brewing concoction of fungi, large, shrimp-like insects, and some herbs and lichen. Doors to the north east led into another circular chamber. This one was filled with barrels containing highly flammable military oil.

“Let's burn the vats.”

“Let's burn octopus!”

“No, let's burn EVERYTHING!”

“Guys, this place seems very organic. It might collapse.”

“LET'S BURN EVERYTHING!”

Whilst discussing, nearly two dozen giant flying krills invaded the chamber, causing confusion and mayhem. Stone slab shut behind them. Many got stabbed and nibbled upon. Ivor succumbed to his wounds. But ultimately, adventurers prevailed, adding the the unholy paella brewing in the chamber.

Doors were shut. Toxic fumes were filling the chamber. An barrels of oil beckoned some more than others.

Will they fulfil their burning desire?

Or will it be quenched by others?

Only one way to find out.

Meme by Lord Jubalon Flux.

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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In December 2025 I sat down with Gus of The Classic Adventure Gaming Podcast to discuss our ongoing campaign Conquering the Barbarian Altanis. I was joined by four players: JP, never_plays_elves, SleazyB, and Dreadlord. We have been playing weekly since March 2022, and at the time of recording we were around 150 sessions in.

Over the years I have shared some of our experience (see Resources at the end of the post), but this was the first time I did so on a podcast. It was a lot of fun, especially since Gus was such a great host. The “panel” format with players, I think, worked well.

Since the episode is nearly two hours long, I will attempt to summarise the key points. In essence, we focus on what has and hasn't worked for us to establish, and maintain, a long running open-table sandbox campaign. The discussion is mostly centred on various techniques, strategies, mindset, and community dynamics that, we believe, contribute to the longevity of our campaign.

Some of the principles we discuss are:

  • Consistent scheduling. The major enemy of working adults. We do fixed weekly slot (Mondays, 3 hours), I am always present. This builds habit, reliability, and player trust; players plan around the game.
  • Open table. Multiple characters per player, anyone can join or leave. Builds resilience, accommodates real-life constraints, filters for committed players.
  • A living, evolving world. I maintain strict time records, and session reports; the world evolves without players, it shapes them and is shaped by them. This creates a persistent world, makes catch-up possible, and allows for emergent situations that are not divorced from the in-game reality.
  • Consequences and stakes. Characters have ultimate agency to do as they please, but freedom to act is not freedom from consequences. Lethality must be fair, and treasure must be plentiful. This helps create real stakes, rewards skill, and balances danger with opportunity.
  • Minimal prep. Wilderlands setting inspires me; I use random tables, and develop elements (characters, sites, etc.) iteratively. This reduces prep burden, allows flexibility, and leads to surprising and memorable situations.
  • Rules as a robust framework. I continuously study OD&D, AD&D and other old-school sources to develop deep understanding of the rules. This provides a consistent, fair, and robust framework that handles any situation.
  • Community. I set clear expectations, and we do our best to maintain consistent tone, and friendly atmosphere. This creates an environment where invested players self-select. We are responsible for our shared experience and enjoyment.

We discuss a whole lot more. We did our best to share practical and actionable insight. You let us know how we did. :)

You can listen to the episode on Anchor, Spotify, Apple Play, or using the player below:

Regarding the resources I mentioned above, previously I had shared our experience in the following blog posts and essays:

We hope you find our experience helpful and inspiring to start, or improve, a sandbox game of your own. Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.

Fight on!

#Resource #Podcast #Reflection

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rootring
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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ainsley Human Ranger level 1 An older gentleman with a groomed moustache and a wooden pipe in his mouth, covered in dark green cloak.
Aurella Elf Fighter level 1 / magic-user level 1 Exiled and chased out of her tree commune, she now wanders the Wilderlands.
Balarus Human Fighter level 4 An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow.
Gurdin the Bald Dwarf Fighter level 1 Dressed in simple, dusty clothes, with a hairless head so shiny it gets in the way of adventure. Loaded with gear and hopes of great treasure.
Ivor Human Cleric level 1 A young, soft-spoken worshipper of Umannah with thick black beard.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Thorinda Bung Human Monk level 4 She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.

Flowerbloom

“My child, you party hard and are a true legate of joy. But it is now time to return and proselytize once more. Behold the grape!” a pudgy, roly-poly giant spoke to Tam in jovial tone.

“Listen carefully, for this is not in drunken stupor I tell you! Cross three streams and walk uphill until you see a tower of many faces!” the giant spoke in hushed tone, with a breath that could peel the paint off the marbled walls.

“Go there; but do not seek the crown, for it will be your downfall! Go there and you will find a grape so fine it would be an insult to me, to me personally!, if you were not to take care of that grape!” Losborst, the God of Wine, rolled dramatically, bemused with his own words.

“Go! Go fetch that grape and carry it between your butt cheeks, and may it never be squished or else we will never meet again!!! Go!!!”

Tam o' Shanter woke from his stupor, all curled up and soiled. He was in the cellar of the adventurers' newly built town-house. It has been a month since he descended into alcohol-induced coma. A month of partying and communing with his favourite god, Losborst.

With great effort he crawled to the door of the log house, his bloodshot eyes filled with mania, words croaking from his dry mouth.

“The grape, I must find the grape...”

Afoot, but unsteady, he staggered through Ironburg and into the Hog's Head Inn.

Flowerbloom 14th, Fireday

“Come on, let's go looking for a grape! THE grape! It is just north-west from here, probably somewhere around the Skillholm Stream!”

Partially washed Tam successfully assembled an adventuring party: Ainsley the Ranger, Balarus the Hero, Gurdin the Dwarf, Thorinda the Monk, and Aurella the Elf.

They set out with the first rays of sun, following the River Farhills upstream. This mighty river flows from the very peaks of he Castelian Mountains. It spans nearly 1500 yards at its widest.

Ainsley found a way to ford one of the tributary streams, saving the party a good amount of time.

Flowerbloom 15th, Spiritday

By mid-day, the adventurers reached Skillholm Stream. Or at least where it joins the mighty river. They spent rest of the day hiking uphill, with Ainsley once again being pivotal for finding streams and overpasses.

During the evening Tam felt tingles in his bum. His hairs stretched out and pointed south west.

Flowerbloom 16th, Airday

Balarus had the pre-dawn watch duty. As sun rose he gazed south west.

There it was, a league or so away.

There it was, at the foot of the mountain.

There it was, a spire three hundred feet tool, adorned with six gigantic stone faces.

A fanged devil at the bottom, mouth agape, with long red path leading inside.

A joyful face with stupendous smile to the left.

A taut face with severed nose and extended tongue to the left.

Above them two more.

Left, a drooling one.

Right, a grinning monstrosity with stone Mohawk.

And on the top a stoic face gazing into the distance, crowned with stone spikes.

Tam's bum shivered.

This was the place they were looking for.

Ainsley did it again, and found yet another ford, saving the party several watches, if not days, of going around.

Then they spent a watch planning the approach to the spire.

They decided to spend a full watch circling and observing the spire.

Crimson stairs were of material unknown to Gurdin. It was no rock nor mineral he was familiar with. The faces were stone, as much as he could tell from safe distance.

The area was bereft of life. No animals. No plants.

Sporadically a dozen or so flying creature would either come out, or come into, the open, drooling mouth.

Ainsley could not recognise them. They looked like bird, but moved like insects.

As night fell, the party found a safe spot a mile away from the spire. They set-up cold camp.

Flowerbloom 17th, Waterday

“NOOOOOOOOOO! PLEASE! NOOOO–”

Gurdin and Thorinda gripped their weapons.

Horrific, desperate screams woke everyone up.

It was midnight.

“AGH– NO! NO! I BEG–”

Screaming and pleading echoed, interrupted with painful gasps.

Adventurers huddled up, formed a circle, back-to-back, and waited.

Hopeless pleading continued. Until it was no more.

Adventurers waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then went back to sleep.

They woke up, moderately well rested.

Tam's bum was still quivering.

Adventurers picked up their stuff and approached the spire.

Now, up close, Gurdin was confident that stairs were no rock.

They were crimson, slimy, and slightly bent upwards at the edges. The stairs looked much like a tongue. There was flesh blood on them. Teeth as well.

“A sign of what is to come!” Thorinda quipped.

The stairs zig-zagged up the hill; an eighty foot ascent.

Gurdin drove four iron spikes at the foot of the stairs; they bled and shivered as he did so.

“Tie a rope around me, I go first!” Tam said.

Indeed, he did go first.

“It's all good!” he waved half way up. Soon a single file line formed, and the party ascended together.

Tam and Balaraus were first to reach the mouth open wide. Razor sharp stone teeth were all around.

Beyond was a large circular chamber, illuminated by sunlight coming through the open mouth.

Three framed iron slabs were visible to north, east, and west. Each had a symbol of a single musical note on it.

A cushion sat atop a pedestal in the centre of the chamber. Something was on it.

Adventurers continue to enter, one by one. Aurella and Gurdin were at the back.

They felt stairs beneath them move and squirm.

Elf jumped forward without delay. She landed on her hands, and rolled straight into the chamber.

Dwarf was both slower and further away.

He too jumped.

Alas, he landed straight between the stone teeth closing with great force.

Aurella turned around to grab him, but all she got was blood over her face.

Vile face chomped and masticated on Gurdin. Adventurers backed off, worried they too might get sucked in.

Whatever remained of Gurdin between the teeth was soon cleaned by the long tongue.

The mouth remained shut, leaving the adventurers in darkness.

“Oh, hi there.”

Ivor, a young acolyte of Umannah, happened to have entered this chamber earlier that day. After brief introductions he decided it was in his best interest to join this enterprising party.

A lantern and torch were lit.

Two things became obvious.

First, there were dried rivulets of blood leading from the mouth to north stone slab.

Second, a wooden flute was resting on the cushion. Caked with dried blood.

Tam picked it up. Then he wiped it under his armpit.

He strolled around the chamber, and then stopped close to the west stone slab. He brought the flute to his lips with a courage of a man who has consumed things others wound never fathom to even consider ingestible. As he blew on it he felt burning sensation. Tiny barbed hooks tore into his flesh and tongue. His mouth swelled and filled with warm crimson liquid.

Stone slab closest to him rose up, revealing a twenty foot long corridor terminating with spiral staircase leading up.

Adventurers poured in, ignoring Tam's bloody face. One of the adventurers took the flute and put it in his backpack.

The stairs, as well as the walls, were caked with dried blood, gore, and small bits of flesh and bone chips. The party went up, single file.

“Stop. Look!”

Atop the stairs were single doors, smattered with blood and gore from top to bottom. Gilded “TREASURE ROOM” was nailed to them.

“Now, this is an obvious trap!”

Adventurers carefully proceed up, and then gave the doors a wide berth.

“But what if they are not lying? Could we tie a rope to the handle a check them out? What do you think?”

“No.”

Most of the adventurers focused on large iron-reinforced oak doors at the end of the corridor. It took them some time, but they managed to force them open.

A rectangular room, mostly clean, and with no visible gore, was before them. Corridor led further ahead, and then turned left. Once everyone entered, the doors shut behind them and a large, brass face formed over the seal.

The face yawned, opened its eyes, and then looked at the party. It said nothing. If anything, it looked slightly confused.

Conversing with it yielded no useful intelligence.

“Look at yourself. You are all covered in blood!” Ainsley berated the brass face, frustrated.

“Wh–what?! Blood?! On me?! Where? WHERE??? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

The face begun bellowing and crying in anguish.

“Shhh–”

“Incoming!”

Balarus warned the party in time. He was standing in the corridor, watching ahead.

Five hulking creatures advanced towards him. They were nearly six feet tall, green as virgin spring grass, with bulging, knotted muscles. They were completely headless; instead of nipples they had eyeballs, and their mouth were where the solar plexus is.

“Form up!”

“Hack them!”

Aurella and Ainsley fired a volley down the corridor. No hits.

Balarus and Tam closed into melee, with Thorinda in the second rank.

The monsters were easy to hit. But they barely reacted to any pain inflicted upon them. Even worse, they hit hard in return.

Ainsley switched from bow to bastard sword and then waited for an opportunity to join the fray. Aurella kept shooting into melee; luckily she never hit any of her friends.

Balarus did tremendous damage to the brutes. It was Thorinda who made the first kill. She drove he glaive straight through one nipple-eye, turned it sideways, and then slashed across the chest-mouth, and out of the other nipple-eye.

Ivor was eager to fight too, but there was no room in the corridor for him. So he went back to the crying brass face and attempted to console it.

“Calm down. Here. Better?”

“Oh. Ooooh. Nobody ever touched me like that... Ohhh...”

“Hey, don't get any weird ideas!”

Caressing the brass face at least stopped it crying.

“Take that, sugar tits!” Balarus yelled as he cleaved one of the green brutes in half, straight between its nipple-eyes.

Tam was forced to retreat, having received a beating of lifetime. Ainsley jumped in to fill the gap. He promptly slayed one of the creatures, while Balarus obliterated the other.

“Will you open for us?” Ivor asked the brass face.

“Noooo.” it answered.

Aurella downed the final creature. She fired into melee once more. Two arrows, both down the gaping chest-mouth. The creature slumped to its knees, dead.

“I think I have led us all to our deaths.” Tam said somberly. “Am not sure what will kill us first, the freaky tower and its denizens or Aurella firing into combat.”

“Don't be so pessimistic, we won our first fight.” Ainsley retorted stoically. “Yeah, one of us did get gnawed to death by giant stone teeth, but it could've been way worse.”

How much worse?

We will find out soon.

Meme by Lord Jubalon Flux.

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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rootring
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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ainsley Human Ranger level 1 An older gentleman with a groomed moustache and a wooden pipe in his mouth, covered in dark green cloak.
Balarus Human Fighter level 4 An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow.
Gerrick Human Fighter level 1 A tall hill-man with wicked reflexes and swift movements. Gerda's brother.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 2 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Minako Konishi Human Monk level 3 Pretty Karakan with grace of a panther and shrewdness of a fox. Silk sash holds here loose trousers in place, while loose jacket rounds up her exotic look.
Syd Grundy Human Fighter level 3 Tall, middle aged and scruffy looking man of the wilderness.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.

Flowerbloom 6th, Airday, to Flowerbloom 13th, Earthday

Adventurers spend two weeks to travel to New Hara, buy two gallons of military oil, seven vials of holy water, one suite of plate mail, one suite of chain mail, and two silver daggers, for approximately 3 200 gold pieces worth of treasure.

They have a jolly good time being taxed, blackmailed, and ripped off at every step. Balarus refuses to sell his horse Speckles, as well as exotic Kenso and Minako to many proprietors of Hara. They conclude that the boat trip was well worth it and return to Ironburg happy and content, ready for more adventure.

Balarus spoketh:

I, Balarus, woodsman, warrior, horse whisperer, now quartermaster.

We hired a barge to make a shopping trip to Hara, not the old town now ravaged by beast men, but a new one further down the river, ensuring we travelled by night we arrived the next morning.

New Hara was a disappointing sight, there were no buildings only tents, after a shakedown by the local guards (some things never change), we started to look around for provisions.

Unfortunately common goods were rare, this town was a poor imitation of the bustling busy Hara we knew and loved, so the items we procured were few, a shortage of horses and weaponry meant we returned to the barge light of new equipment.

Some decided to find a rather untrustworthy fellow who could obtain some of the rarer items, at improved costs (some things never change) and we agreed to meet his companion a few days later, using special hand signals to verify our presence.

At the agreed place we nearly missed our contact, but our fighter, having spent the night awake, managed to mess up the signal and the contact bolted, but was chased down by the ranger and monk, he did hand over our goods and we returned to Ironburg with the needed, albeit costly, provisions.

Not a wasted trip, but one that we felt cost more than gained (some things never change).

Minako spoketh kindly of the experience as well:

Minako sat on the flat bottomed barge as it was poled towards New Hara. She had been impatiently twiddling her thumbs in Ironburg, waiting for this shopping expedition. She was curious to know what passed for civilisation in this Eastern part of the world.

The small party came on board with gold and a trio of odd pieces of plunder: a jewelled iron hand, a melted broadsword encrusted still with gems and a radiant red coat of plush ermine. A small ransom to pay for plate and chain armour, holy water and military oil that were worth half of this back home. There was also a hefty plough horse, Speckles, a lovely brute, if somewhat windy...

As the party pushed off, that piss tank Tam came rushing and leapt on board. Minako eyed him, pleased to see the cleric, but not prepared to show it overly.

The river moved slowly, but they made decent time going downstream. They passed the ruins of a city which could only be Hara. A short time later a pair of cutters intercepted the barge. Minako prepared to resist any shake down, but her colleagues talked their way out and the barge was accompanied to New Hara.

What a let down... she had seen more sophisticated outhouses than this town. It was clearly chaotic, flea bitten and struggling. Then, when the dock master, or what passed for such, announced no weapons to be worn in town, everyone grumbled. Kenso and Minako attracted such curious ogling that they decided to stay on board. The party came and went, bargaining with Penniman, and Tam getting a skin full on the side.

The locals were getting annoying with their stares. Some even leered and Minako considered feeding one fellow his manhood as a warning to others. Luckily, the time to leave arrived and they headed a short mile upstream, waiting a day and some for the appointed time.

Landing on the shore Garrick and Minako went ashore to meet the fellow who was supposed to deliver the goods. It was clearly the wrong fellow and he ran off into the bushes. They waited a few hours and a chap showed up wearing a blue arm band. Garrick, too sure of his memory, gave the wrong password signals... typical male... The deliveryman took off gast as a hare. Minako chased and caught up to the fellow. He shook with fear until Minako gave the proper signals. He hastily led them to a copse where he had hidden the goods and then cut out, cursing the party.

Minako and Garrick carried the goods back to the barge and they continued back to Ironburg.

Minako swore she would not easily volunteer to return to that oafish heap of tents and rough houses.

What will they do next? Perhaps they will dare return to the ruins of Castle Yukanthur? Or seek the Divine Grape of Losborst? Maybe another shopping trip to New Hara?

Only one way to find out.

Player character accounts by their respective players.

Meme by Lord Jubalon Flux.

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A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign.

This issue includes sessions 120, and 121.

Adventurers return to civilisation, at last!

You can download the issue here.

Overlord's Annals zine is available as part of the Ever & Anon APA, issue 15:

#Zine

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ainsley Human Ranger level 1 An older gentleman with a groomed moustache and a wooden pipe in his mouth, covered in dark green cloak.
Ambros Human Cleric level 7 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Aurella Elf Fighter level 1 / magic-user level 1 Exiled and chased out of her tree commune, she now wanders the Wilderlands.
Balarus Human Fighter level 4 An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow.
Gerrick Human Fighter level 1 A tall hill-man with wicked reflexes and swift movements. Gerda's brother.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 2 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Remus Hobbit Thief level 1 Sketchy hobbit looking for better loot.
Wilbalt Abendeurer Human Fighter level 3 A burly blonde barbarian; Warmund's younger brother and a better swordsman of the two.

Dewsnap 9th, Fireday

A hoard of chopped up giant centipedes laid strewn about Ignaeus and Balarus. Aurella, Kenso, and Jacob were unscathed.

“Oh, hey there!”

Remus the Thief, and Wilbalt the Burly stepped out of the darkness and joined the party.

They stripped the ancient skeletons of their chain shirts. Then they wrapped them up and left them in a corner of the cave for easier retrieval some time in the future.

Remus and Ignaeus had spent some time playing with the iron coffer held by one of the dead men. All that was for naught because, as it turned out, the coffer was empty! But Ignaeus had recovered a coin purse from the skeleton, and within it were two lapis lazuli gems, two obsidians, and three eye agates.

“Is this our guy? The one we are looking for?”

Fourth skeleton was noticeably different from the rest. For one, it still had hair. It was dressed in commoners' clothing, and it had no weapons nor armour.

“Might be!”

Adventurers took some of its hair. Then they proceeded to explore the west tunnel. After hundred feet or so it broke, perpendicularly, into another tunnel. A strong downdraught could be felt, as well as musty air. The elongated tunnel was quite low, some nine feet high. Numerous stalagmites poked out of the floor. Many of them were broken, being in essence, stumps.

Southwards were three shallow pits. Obviously man-made. They perplexed adventurers to no end. Eventually they gave up on figuring out them and moved further south.

On and on they went, following hundred yards or so of winding tunnels, until they reached a tight sink-hole. Down they went, one by one, following yet another long, long tunnel.

“Look...”

A round cave, with steps chiselled into the limestone, leading down a sharp drop into another cave. A carved boulder was visible. The party descended carefully.

Aurella's torch flickered.

She hesitated.

The torch extinguished.

The air exploded.

Remus and Aurella were no more.

Others were charred but alive.

“Grab the dead and let's get out!”

Exploding cave was right next to one of the caves by the entrance.

It was night outside. Adventurers set up a cold camp and went to sleep, dreaming of barbecue.

Dewsnap 10th, Spiritday

Thunderous roar of a black bear woke everyone up.

Wilbalt, whom had been on watch duty, braced for impact with glaive. He was firmly grounded, with the butt of his pole arm placed on the ground behind him.

Bear rammed him with all its might. Wilbalt held true and impaled the beast. It whimpered and clawed the burly man. He gave it no quarter; he yielded not. Kenso and Balarus hacked the wounded animal.

“Should we chop it up and take it to that insect swarm? Could serve as a bait?”

“Just leave it here. Let's take Aurella and Remus to Ambros so he can raise them...”

They arrived to Old Crus's tower, where Ambros was hiding, by noon.

“Sorry, hobbits cannot be raised.”

Aurella, though, was back and hurting. But she was back.

Adventurers then went to Ironburg to heal up and plan their next step.

Dewsnap 13th, Earthday

“Guys, I need that axe.”

Balarus, Wilbalt, Kenso, Ambros, Ainsley, and a new member Garrick, Gerda's brother, set out for the brigand's abandoned hideout.

“Guys, no really, I need that axe real bad.” Wilbalt kept repeating. At moments he was shaking as if suffering withdrawals.

“We'll get you your axe. Don't you worry.”

The axe in question was weapon sighted by the first party that went into this cave system. They had seen a pristine battle axe at the heart of insect swarm nest. Among thousands and thousands of centipedes, roaches, spiders, and other vermin. A place where Gerda had perished as others fled and left her behind.

“Where is the bear?”

“Its bones are there.”

This time the party did not take the long route via the northern tunnel, nor the route via the watery cave. No, they opted to backtrack through narrow tunnels some of them had discovered days prior.

Balarus shot few flaming arrows into the exploding cave.

Nothing exploded.

Feeling safe enough, they moved in, and through a series of narrow tunnels, until they reached the cave with skeletons. Then northwards into the insect cavern.

“Let me speak with them.”

Ambros announced.

He cast Speak with Animals.

His head nearly exploded as he heard an uproarious cacophony of voices yelling and screaming for food. Dazed and confused, it took him some time to compose himself.

As he spoke of food, the swarm grew quite and face him. Thousands tiny life forms listened attentively. They understood food was to be offered. They understood nothing else, especially all the elaborate instructions provided by Ambros.

Food was mentioned. Food was promised. Food was not delivered.

Wrong.

Food was right in front of them. Food was always right in front of them.

The swarm rushed forwards; towards the food that promised food.

Total bedlam ensued, with adventurers running in all directions.

Wilbalt and Gerrick went right and then south towards the watery tunnel. The rest fell back whence they cometh from.

“Follow two humans! Those two, yes!” Ambros yelled.

“What the fuck!!!” Wilbalt thought.

“Follow me!” Gerrick flashed his lantern at the swarm.

“Yes, follow them!”

The swarm moved slowly.

The plan was working, as the insect mass gradually moved from the cave into the tunnels.

“Quick, grab the axe while I cast Create Food!”

Ainsley sprinted for the skeletal remains. He grabbed the pristine looking battle axe.

“Let's get out!”

At the same time, Wilbalt and Garrick have been slowly retreating downwards. As the swarm advanced, they retreated. Step by step.

“Remember, there is something in the water!”

They hugged the cave wall and stepped into the shallow portion of rank, stagnant water.

And then it came; from the darkness.

A rotting carcass; jumping out, with gaping mouth and crooked fingers.

It was hacked from undeath to death, once and for all.

And then the duo fled too.

“So... about that axe...” Wilbalt panted.

“Yes, what about it?” Ainsley held it.

“I really need it. I seriously need it. I need it so bad.” Wilbalt spoke.

“Here, you can have it.”

Wilbalt smiled. Finally he got an axe too! Finally he can feel like a man, between Balarus and Thorinda each wielding a mighty axe of their own!

“Wait, one more thing!”

Party returned to the exploding cave to inspect the carved boulder. One of the adventurers remembered that boulder was jammed into some sort of crevice.

Four of them grabbed the boulder and rolled it backwards.

A hit!

Cave filled with twenty-two sacks holding over thirty thousands coins! Copper pieces galore!

Adventurers spent some hours packing all the goods, and planning their weight distribution. They also discovered a wooden chest underneath all the sacks. They decided to take it whole, instead of opening it here.

Since the night fell, they camped again. No bear this time.

Adventurers and their hoard of thirty thousand, six hundred, and eight copper pieces, plus nine hundred and sixty-six silver pieces, arrived at Ironburg on noon of Dewsnap the 14th, Fireday.

“Told you we will be rich.” Aurella quipped painfully.

Days were becoming longer. Flowerbloom, and Spring, are merely a week away, and the nature was showing it.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Aurella Elf Fighter level 1 / magic-user level 1 Exiled and chased out of her tree commune, she now wanders the Wilderlands.
Balarus Human Fighter level 4 An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Jacob Vin Human Assassin level 4 Slick black hair, inconspicuous dress, youthful for his age, and of keen instincts.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 2 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Leticia Human Cleric level 1 Extremely righteous, borderline zealot, devout follower of Rasthri, Goddess of Strength in Revenge.

Dewsnap 7, Waterday

Six chosen ones set out for tumulus once more. Alaric, the paladin of Tyr, has vowed to serve and protect Ironburg. Baron Sig asked him a couple of weeks ago to investigate freshly broken in mound. They exterminated goblins and undead on their first expedition, but had to return after Ignaeus went berserk and nearly killed everyone. This now, was the second party, set on finishing what the first one had begun.

To their delight, or disappointment, depending on whom you ask, they found the tumulus bereft of life. The chamber with rotten foodstuffs had been ransacked by a black bear, which then died from poisoning.

In one chamber they found a skeleton sitting on a large oaken throne. It was entwined with numerous vines and branches, and it reeked of decaying vegetation. A crown of thorns sat upon its head. The skeleton crumbled to dust, and all nature withered and decayed, after Balarus had poked it with his spear.

“You killed Jesus!” Kenso wept.

A room adjoining the large chamber stuffed with goblin corpses was picked clean. Few spent candles, discarded piece of parchment with a list of mining equipment, and greasy ration wrappings were all that was left. Secret chamber to the south-east contained two chests; both open, both empty.

Adventurers picked up discarded sledgehammers and pickaxes, and went to work on stone portal adorned with muscular men. Their very noisy endeavour attracted no attention. Beyond the portal was a domed semicircular chamber. At the far end was a statue of a muscular giant, sitting cross-legged. Before him was a grand stone bowl, held by dozens of muscular men. Clear spring-water filled its volume.

Of six chosen ones, only one was brave enough to take a gulp.

That was Ignaeus, the Elf of Elves. He took a sip, and then a sucked in a big gulp. The water tasted better than any of the Seven Virgin Springs known only to elves. His muscles swole and tensed, as he became muscular as well. Adventurers left the chamber and closed the portal behind them.

The final stop were secret corridors beyond the carved skeletal figure. Exploring the earthen tunnels led them to a cave-in connecting to the tree above. Nothing of value, nothing of interest.

Five chosen ones were apathetic to Aurella's desire to skin the dead bear. They helped her drag it out of the tumulus, but then made a cold camp several hundred yards away while she worked on it. Aurella was of strong spirit, and even stronger conviction.

Dewsnap 8th, Earthday

Aurella worked until the Sun set, and then until the Sun rose. Caked with gore and viscera, she stood triumphant with a “bearskin rug.” Nobody in Ironburg was interested in buying it—fur was greasy and bloody, chunks of flesh were still attached, and skin was shredded at places.

“Fine, then it will be a rug in our home!”

Adventurers spent the day resting before setting out for the abandoned brigand hideout.

Dewsnap 9th, Fireday

With Leticia opting to stay in Ironburg, the Chosen Six became Chosen Five. Minako acted as their guide, since she was the only one available that knew where the hideout is. They set out in the morning and reached the caves by noon. Out of four entrances they choose the north-east one.

Traversing the long tunnels and caves, they found the source of barking and yelping described by Minako—a pack of jackals. Kenso, Ignaeus, and Balarus slaughtered the adults, while Jacob took care of the puppies. Pushing deeper, the adventurers encountered what seemed like a dead end.

But Ignaeus and Aurella spotted a crevice on the west side. The former took off his backpack, and then shimmied sideways along it. Nearly half an hour later and he was in another cave, with sightly acrid smell. Others soon joined him. Balarus was forced to doff his armour in order to fit through, but nothing ill happened to him.

Once on the other side the party soon found themselves in the cavernous space filled with thousands of centipedes, spiders, and other vermin, crawling all about. Minako had told them all about the grisly fate Gerda had suffered, for no fault of her own besides wanting to help, and thus they give the swarm a wide berth.

Out of four tunnels leading into this cave, they chose south-west one. They moved slowly and carefully, avoiding a sporadic jagged stalagmite.

“Look!”

A cave, some thirty by forty feet, filled with stalagmites and stalactites, prostrated itself before them. But more interestingly, There were four skeletons along the south side. Three of them had yellowed bones; each wearing a chain shirt and iron helmet. The one furthest to the west held an iron coffin with both of his hands. Another skeleton, dressed in commoners' clothing and with some hair still attached to it, lied next to it. Its hand was outstretched towards the coffer.

Ignaeus walked up to them. He immediately roused a number of giant centipedes who assaulted him with ravenous rage. Jacob kebabed one, Ignaeus slashed and stomped four; then five more had fallen from above with one biting Balarus the Beefy. He returned in kind by dispatching four more, and Kenso took care of the last one.

Is one of the dead Agathon's friend?

And, more importantly, what does the coffer hold?

Meme by Lord Jubalon Flux.

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Just received a wonderful gift from a good friend of mine. Looking forward to diving into the classics! Thank you JP!

Swords Against Darkness volumes one to five:

Books one to four of The Elric Saga—Elric of Melnibone, The Sailor on the Seas of Fate, The Weird of the White Wolf, and The Vanishing Tower:

The March of Muscovy and Suleiman The Magnificent by Harold Lamb:

#Postbox #Fantasy

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ainsley Human Ranger level 1 An older gentleman with a groomed moustache and a wooden pipe in his mouth, covered in dark green cloak.
Alaric Human Paladin level 4 Big, doe eyed country boy with wavy blond hair and willingness to do the right thing. Paladin of Tyr.
Aurella Elf Fighter level 1 / magic-user level 1 Exiled and chased out of her tree commune, she now wanders the Wilderlands.
Balarus Human Fighter level 4 An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 2 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Wilbalt Abendeurer Human Fighter level 3 A burly blonde barbarian; Warmund's younger brother and a better swordsman of the two.

Thawmist 16th, Airday

Head of the pale undead recoiled as Ignaeus hit it with his magic arrow. It screamed it in anguish as Alaric stabbed it with his magical weapon repeatedly. Copper coins covering its chest exploded about the room as Balarus had chopped it in half with his magical battle axe.

The combat was over before it had even begun proper. Ainsley and Balarus made a brief introduction—the latter was a familiar face, having adventured with the company a year ago. The former was new to the region, and was learning fast by hiding in the corner.

Scouring the chamber produced nothing but several hundred copper pieces, meticulously collected by wounded Aurella, and a wicked looking broadsword resting by the lower half of the severed dead.

Its dragon-head pommel beckoned adventurers.

Ignaeus inspected it closely. Then he reached out and paused to feel any evil. Having felt none, he pulled out the blade. It was smooth and sharp. A fine blade, and a good replacement for his Volmorin's Blade that had been a stump for long time.

Adventurers, now counting nine in numbers, continued their exploration of the tumulus. After spending half an hour on deciding if the should go down the wet, earthy tunnel, or beyond the portcullis in the stony portion of the complex, that is.

They found their way out of the secret chamber, back into the chamber filled with foul foodstuffs, and then beyond the portcullis. Balarus, an immensely strong man, lifted the grates nearly on his own. Ainsley and Ignaeus assisted him, making this a truly effortless task.

“How should we jam them?”

“Anyone has a ten foot pole?”

“What about those crates?”

“Nah, they are soggy!”

Alaric resolved this impasse by walking into the chamber and pointing at the winch which operates the grates. They set it right, and the passageway remained open indeed.

Exploration continued. T-shaped junction splitting right and left. The latter bent right, the former led to another chamber. Thus, they had chosen left. Empty, nothing. Left through the archway, then right, left again and down the long corridor, past the doors that lead back into the foul chamber.

Then right, and right again, now facing a long, long corridor. Two doors on the right, one at thirty feet, another at eighty. Mid-way, on the left side, twenty feet wide double doors, arched and with a motif of young men ascending and becoming strong, with the strongest sitting on a wooden throne. The portal was mortared shut.

“Psshhh...”

Listening on the first doors to the right confirmed something was amiss. Animalistic grunts and squeals could be heard.

“We killed some goblins earlier...”

“Probably more...”

Balarus opened the doors with easer that parallels only Thorinda's.

Sixteen goblins inside the chamber were not surprised.

Neither were the adventurers.

Ignaeus and Balarus led the charge, each slaying four with ease and grace of heroes. Aurella, despite her wounds, slipped into the large chamber, and shot one goblin down. Kenso killed one too.

Wilbalt charged right behind Ignaeus.

As he had arrived, the elf turned around, foam dripping from his mouth. His eyes were completely bloodshot. Elf swung at the swordsman, but his blows failed to connect. Kenso smacked Ignaeus with the blunt side of his sword.

Strongman Balarus grappled Ignaeus. His iron grip was all for naught as the elf used his own strength against him, throwing him down to the ground. Balarus stood up, but dazed and stunned. Kenso hit Ignaeus once more, and the elf reciprocated by stabbing him through the gut. This, once arrogant Karakan, had be humbled once more, as it all went to black.

As this desperate skirmish unfolded, Alaric and Ainsley mopped up rest of the goblins. Then the paladin joined. He was promptly roped by Ainsley's improvised lasso. Seeing that Ignaeus is out of control, the paladin hit him hard, for real. He hit him again, nearly killing him. Then Wilbalt took the elf down with a might strike to the head.

They tied him tight.

Frisking the many corpses produced a hundred or so silver pieces. Aurella the Coin Collector had collected them all. Wilbalt took the locked wooden chest, reasoning that it would be safer to open it back in Ironburg. There were also seven pickaxes, four hammers, and three shovels. Most were left behind.

“It's time to leave!”

Resisting the urge to open one more doors, adventurers picked up tied Ignaeus, and messed up Kenso, and exited the tumulus. It was a starry night. Emboldened with the fact they have a ranger in their party now, they decided to follow the river and march during night.

After all, Ironburg was just two leagues away.

What could possibly go wrong?

Within an hour they ran into three elves that questioned Aurella about who she is, why is another elf all tied up, and what is going on. They were tremendously confused by Aurella's insistence on going to Ironburg, a backwater human excuse for a settlement. They were gone by the time she had returned with new questions form the party.

Once back, they put Ignaeus in their cellar and waited for the next day. Then they took him to the Old Crus's tower, where Ambros was hiding away. Lama of Aniu was perplexed. He cast remove curse and nothing had happened. He cast detect evil and nothing had happened.

They ungagged the elf, only to be met with growls and hisses.

“WHAT IS THIS PANDEMONIUM!” Crus croaked as he walked down the stairs “NO VISITORS! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT THAT!” he yelled and bickered as he took a step at a time. The man was slower than the passage of time.

“Oh mighty and wise Crus! I throw myself in your service if you can heal my dearest friend! He is stricken with such a great rage and we do not know what to do! We will pay you! I will wash the floors! Oh, help us!” It was reported Ambros said something along such lines.

Whatever the he might have said, Old Crus was stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at the cleric intently; eyes wide open.

“Oh, I have driven out the wrong one! Woe; me!” he cried out, exasperated, smacking his own forehead. “Are you not a high priest?! Is that not an evil object?! What do high priests do with evil?! They dispel it!” Old Crus turned around and went back up, swearing profusely.

Ambros cast Dispel Evil on the sword and it fell out of Ignaeus's hand. The elf fell asleep. Alaric wrapped the sword. Then he went to the baron and informed him of the expedition.

Others sat down and began planning a supply run to New Hara.

“One plate mail. Two chain shirts. Two shields. Ten leather armours. Ten spears. Five glaives. Ten slings. Ten short bows. Two hundred arrows. One broadsword. One bastard sword. Five shortswords. Two hundred and fifty feet of hemp rope. Two crowbars. Five backpacks. Ten large canvas sacks. Ten dried rations.”

“Oil! Don't forget military oil! Gallons of military oil!”

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