Campaign journals, reviews of TTRPG stuff, and musings on D&D.
A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign.
Inaugural issue details the first two sessions.
Download here.
Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 561:
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To be honest, due to my work online games work best.
So my where is more about the selection of the right digital tools that puts everyone at ease and allows them to immerse themselves into the game, not gadgets.
So far I've found Discord the easiest, because we can use voice, audio, and chat (including dice rollers), all in one place. Owlbear Rodeo works great as a minimalist shared map.
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As a kid I read about fantasy games in magazines. Then my parents bought me a SegaMEGA Drive console, but I can't remember any specific RPG. What I do remember is Exile III:Ruined World demo which I've played on my Macintosh for endless hours.
It was a RPG proper! You create a party of six, with attributes, races, classes, skills, etc., and then you are just dumped into the world. Go and do whatever! It was a true open world with high interactivity, and real consequences for your actions. (I doomed some of the cities by accident more than once. Ops!)
I see it is still available for sale, for both PC and Mac. The screenshots bring so much nostalgia!
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Rad | Thief level 1 | A young, short and malnourished rogue. |
| Deter Darker | Magic-user level 1 | Cloak-wearing body-modification aficionado. |
| Winslow | Fighter level 2 | A dirty warrior reeking of urine, body odours, and rotten wood. |
Winslow's and Deter's reports linked at the end of the post.
Leaving their fighter to the doom of his making, the party successfully fled the pursuing mass of monsters. While most were into recovering and lollygaging around Antil, Rad and Winslow felt a bit more ambitious.
They remembered Sir Fondleroy, whom offered Taaaz 500 gold coin for a “simple escort and protection service.” On their way to him they've encountered a slender man dressed in cloak and shorts, the latter revealing his hairy thighs and legs. Shoes with curls pointing upwards adorned his feet, and a half-mask concealed his face.
The man in question was Deter Darker, the most uncharismatic mage to ever step foot in Antil. That, of course, did not deter Rad and Winslow to invite him to join them. The more the merrier!
Sir Fondleroy took some convincing from the trio before taking them on as his escorts. He'd already hired Mahlon, Xaver, and Whippold, three locals, but was afraid they'd betray and mug him as soon as they left Antil.
And so they set off.
“We are looking for a magical tower that allows only the select few in. Those who manage to pass all its tests and tribulations are rewarded with a vast kingdom, breathtaking princess, and endless riches.” Fondleroy answered Winslow's inquiries.
“I've travelled all of Wilderlands, paid many thousand gold coins to sages and wise-men, and looked into more then one unsavoury place. It was many years of work—but I believe I'm on the right trail now!”
“My friends, if my notes are correct—and there is no reason why they shouldn't be—then by tomorrow evening all of you will have posts in my kingdom. Rad, you'll be my bailiff! Winslow, captain of the guard! Deter, I'm sure we'll find a post for you as well—one where no one can see you!”
Three guard Fondleroy hired before trailed the party, frowning and sulking behind them. What will their posts be? Why are they being snubbed so?
Either way, the day was coming to an end just as they reached the jungle which was supposedly hiding their kingdom...
“Winslow, Rad, please come closer gentlemen. Do you remember I mentioned trials? Well, the first one is by the entrance. There is supposedly a creature—some sort of guardian—whom bars others from entering the tower. The legend says it was a warlord unworthy of the kingdom who is now cursed to watch over it forevermore.”
“Now, if my notes are correct—and there is no reason why they shouldn't be—this creature is awfully slow. So my plan is that the two of you sneak as far away from me as you can, and then pelter it with arrows and stones. When it is sufficiently distracted, I'll make a run for the tower and get in. From then on, just keep it distracted until I come out.”
“Under no circumstances should anyone follow me into the tower. Is that understood?” and just as Fondleroy finished, the party had found what they were seeking.
It's been hours and hours of working through the thick jungle. What stood in front of them barely made any sense, but it was what they were after none the less.
A monolithic tower nearly 150 feet tall, sparkly and blinding, reflecting the sun into whomever tries to lay their eyes on it. It was surrounded by an acre of green, lush meadow. Blush red bushes ringed the base, hares grazed the grass, and few deer frolicked on the far end of the field. It was truly a sight to behold.
“This must be it! Make small camp here. Mahlon, Xaver, Whippold, and Deter, you stay in the camp and watch that no one disturbs us. Rad and Winslow, you make your way west and shoot at the guardian... With that being said, where is it?”
There was a ten feet tall black obelisk that stood right in front of the sole entrance into the tower. It looked crooked, and black than the blackest black—as if it was sucking in the surrounding light into itself. Rad and Winslow instinctively pointed at it “That thing.”
And so they set the plan in motion. Winslow went as far west as he could; Rad hid in the overgrowth and readied his shortbow; and Fondleroy crouched behind some broken trees, ready to make a run for it.
The adventurers had been right. The obelisk reacted to the arrows and stones by transforming into a twenty feet tall pole, with two appendages hanging on each side. Both seemed to terminate with horrid hooks. Whatever was shot at it seemed to disappear. It approached the attackers slow, so slow. It didn't seem to walk, but rather levitate or glide towards them. It creaked and shivered as it moved.
A minute later, Fondleroy was almost ready to make a run for it. He was so focused on the reward that awaits him, that he failed to notice Deter sneaking up behind him.
One Rad realised he is wasting arrows, he opted to use his voice instead. Shouting profanities and provocations seemed to work quite well. Winslow managed to creep up all the way to the tower. Being so close, he could finally see the tower is really made of—some sort of blue-gray speckled stone.
“Now!” Sir Fondleroy muttered to himself, and sprinted off for the large wooden gates reinforced with iron bars. Deter followed, observing the noble making his way in. He could see him stand in front of the doors, making specific hand movements, and then operating an ornate box next to the doors. Finally, the gates opened, and he went in.
Using the opportunity, Deter sneaked up to the doors, and realised that Fondleroy hadn't completely closed them. They were ajar just enough to barely see in. Pausing to listen, Deter heard several female voices speaking in order:
“Those who would have a kingdom must be pure in heart, trusting and peaceful.”
“One must throw away the weapons of war and don the garments of love!”
“Only the pure and the worthy may break the seal and awaken the princess.”
“To the princess’ groom will pass the right to rule over the Kingdom of Duvan’Ku and possess its treasures.”
As this was happening, Rad heard Umber Fury—Fondleroy's war horse—neigh. Making his way towards the camp unveiled a confusing sight. It looked like Mahlon was trying to pull something off the horse, while Xaver and Whippold were wrestling each other.
Being the “shoot first, ask later” type of guy, Rad immediately downed Mahlon by an arrow to the head. The other two stopped wrestling, and pulled their swords on each other.
Deter decided he listened enough. He is going in. A horrific sight materialised in front of him as he was to lay his hands onto the doors. They transformed into a writhing mass of tentacles and teeth, dripping with gooey saliva-like substance. Some of the appendages lunged at him, and pulled him into the opening manifesting in front of him.
Was it through arcane means or sheer willpower does not matter, for Deter somehow managed to survive the crushing hug of the monster. Alas, that meant that he was conscious as the horror started to fuse with him.
Winslow circled the guardian obelisk, and was about to run back to them camp, when he'd seen his fellow adventurer pulled in by the doors. Unwilling to leave him be, the fighter ran up, and pulled the mage out of the horrific doors. Chunks of flesh and muscle were ripped from Deter's bones, but at least he was now on the fighter's back.
But their return was about to get even more exciting.
Twenty-foot tall levitating obelisk started to buzz and tremble. It lifted off the ground, and then fell apart into four pillars connected with a plus-shape on top of them. A deformed sphere formed beneath the crossing of two pillars. Looking into it filled Winslow with unexplainable sense of dread and doom.
“Ghjhhh... Agghhh! Hjjkklkjjj...” he growled and spat and murmured; but he pressed on, with Deter on his back. Whilst this was happening, Xaver and Whippold still fought each other, both failing to inflict any significant wounds. Rad resolved their score by head-shooting Xaver.
The transformed guard moved much faster than the levitating one. In fact, it galloped straight at heavily encumbered Winslow. But it came to sudden halt, smashing into an invisible barrier. The fighter just stepped out of the idyllic meadow, and it seemed the creature was incapable of following them. Fool's luck!
The horses were restless. Even Umber Fury, whom has seen many battlefield, seemed unnerved by something. Rad frisked the corpses while Winslow bandaged mutilated Deter. Then they made a campfire, and threw the two dead Altanians into the fire. Whippold didn't seem to protest.
“What now?”
“We wait for Sir Fondleroy...”
Four hours later and Vanis was out in all its glory. What a magnificent full moon was it!
“Ghhh... Ahh! Don't look! Don't look at me!” Winslow grunted as he howled. The horses went mad, ripping out the stakes and galloping off into the jungle. “HHssshhh! Aggghh!” Rad looked in horror as the fighter deformed into a hairy beast, his clothes and leather armour bursting at seams. He readied his shortbow as this creature ran into the jungle. Two yellow eyes were the last thing he'd seen of Winslow.
Whippold was too tired to say anything. This was all way too surreal for him. What the fuck has he gotten himself into?
“We watch guard until the dawn.” Rad ordered. And so they did.
“Not a word to anyone about this. Not a word.” Naked, bloodied, and filthy, Winslow returned to camp in the early morning. Unbeknownst to the fighter, Rad was most upset about lost horses. “Do you know how valuable these are! And you scared them all away! You git!”
“What's in there?” a small silk pouch was hidden on the right side of the Umber Fury's plate mail barding. “By the Barangorn!” Ten pristine pearls were in it.
“Listen, he'd be done by now. It'd be best to head back to Antil. Our friend here needs some care anyway!”
And Deter's portrait:
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The best introductory tabletop RPG is the D&D Basic Set!
There are two versions, one by Tom Moldvay (usually called B/X Basic) and one by Frank Mentzer (usually called BECMI Basic, comes as separate Player's Manual and DM's Rulebook):
 |
|---|
| D&D Basic Set Rulebook by Tom Moldvay |
 |
|---|
| D&D Basic Set by Frank Mentzer |
Both cover all the fantasy tabletop RPG tropes, have all the necessary rules for both the players and game masters, are easily understood, chock-full of examples and inspiring illustrations.
And the best thing? More than 50 years of content readily available online. There is a high probability someone out there already made whatever you might think of.
Both can be legally obtained for less than $10—just print them at your local shop and start playing with some friends!
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All those who are reluctant to play because they believe they'd feel awkward or that it would be a time-sink. Playing table-top RPGs is not only great fun, but also fosters creativity, cooperation, and camaraderie.
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Winslow | Fighter level 2 | A dirty warrior reeking of urine, body odours, and rotten wood. |
| Rad | Thief level 1 | A young, short and malnourished rogue. |
| Rux | Cleric level 1 | A humble priest of Dyrantril, God of Alchemy. |
| Brother Kallahan | Cleric level 2 | Crooked, broken nose; big bags under eyes; long hair, bald spot hidden under old pilgrim's hat; and emaciated figure. Mosquitoes and the smell of dampness always accompanies him. |
| Taaaz | Fighter level 3 | Tall figure whose skinny frame is hidden behind plate armour he never takes off—including the helmet. |
| Gon'd'elf | Elf level 1 | “Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time. |
Taaaz's and Winslows's reports linked at the end of the post.
“What shall we do next?”
“Let's escort that noble, that seemed like easy coin!”
“What about that orc artefact? Didn't that sound alluring as well?”
“Yes, but we are dirt poor and wilderness is scary—will even reach the ruined fort alive?”
“Fine, what about crocodile gizzards? Let's take a walk to the jungle and seek some...”
“Oh man, jungles around here are just vile! Wyvrens, giant spiders, and all kinds of horrors lurk there!”
And so were Taaaz, Kallahan, Rad, Rux, and Gon'd'elf discussing their next adventure, when a dirty figure interrupted them.
“Lads, there is a bandit keep full of treasure just south-west of here. My friends were slaughtered like pigs, and I was left for dead, but its riches remain unspoiled!”
It was difficult to assess what was more offensive about the figure—its smell or visage—but its words were enough to motivate our brave band of delvers.
“Winslow's the name. I'll be happy to lead the way should you be interested.”
They packed their supplies into VVagon, fed their draft horses, and assembled their impressive retinue of fighting men: Samlan, Balfour, Ariun, Ehrman, and Ariad.
And off they marched, leaving the Gates of Antil behind them.
By the end of first watch, two ruined towers connected by equally dilapidated gatehouse were within sight. Dividing themselves into smaller groups, the party marched in line with some hundred feet between each team.
Rad was leading far ahead—his petite figure would surely allow him to scout the ruin efficiently. It was sunny, as most days in Altanian peninsula are. Birds were chirping and wildlife was freely moving around. It was as nature gave little care to this ruined keep marring its halcyon vista.
For two hours he carefully prowled to, and through the gatehouse, and then to west and east ends, finding absolutely nothing but bare stone, collapsed walls, and overgrown cracks. He did find four entrances, two to each tower.
Both towers had large wooden doors on their south side. Gatehouse had two facing doors midway its corridor.
The party came up with a devious plan:
Once the tower doors would be spiked, the party would enter through the gatehouse, and slaughter all there is to be slaughtered.
Spiking teams approached the towers slowly, ensuring they move as silently as possible. Archery team found a safe spot and crouched between some bushes, rocks, and broken trees.
“Why are we spiking this? Why don't we just go in?” Taaaz inquired as Winslow and Rux took out mallets and iron spikes.
Gon'd'elf saw them first, some three hundred feet to the east. Three towering figures, each at least two metres tall, followed by six human-sized figures. It was difficult to see them clearly, but all seemed to be heavily armoured and well equipped with swords, spears, maces, and bows.
Unwilling to reveal his position, he opted to fire an arrow towards the east tower as a warning signal to his friends.
“That's it; this is the signal!” Taaaz yelled enthusiastically, and went straight through the doors as a living incarnation of a battering ram, his retainer bravely rushing in. Winslow and Rux looked at each other, and fled in Gon'd'elf's direction.
Kallahan and his crew just finished spiking the west tower, and opted to flee on the first sight of commotion.
The approaching figures started sprinting toward the east tower, yelling and roaring. The elf recognised smaller humanoids—hobgoblins. The larger were unfamiliar, but had a rather imposing frame, with bulging muscles covered in fur. Their faces were akin to tiger's—if the tiger had been hit with a shovel.
Approaching monsters seemed oblivious to anything but the man who just broke into the east tower; they moved with hunter's intent.
“Oh... Ooooh, the Reverie calls!” the elf entered an entranced state so deep that Rad couldn't wake him up, no matter what he did. He tried slapping, pouring water, licking his ear; everything he could think of!
Taaaz bashed in through another doors, finding a dark junction in front of himself. He motioned to his equally bloodlusty retainer to come closer so he can hand him the lantern, but a sudden scream was all he could hear. Ariun fell into dark pit, not a sound to be heard from him.
“Hey... Are you OK? Are you alive?” Taaaz's questions went unanswered. He ran into the closest room he could find, but was caught by two tiger-headed creatures, followed by a number of hairy humanoids.
Layout worked in his favour—since corridors were barely five feet wide, the pursuers were forced to fight one by one. He placed the lantern onto the ground in the corner of the room, unheated his great sword, and faced the towering monster.
Three hobgoblins and one tiger-faced monster were still outside, unable to squeeze in. “Fire!” Gon'd'elf roared as he snapped out of his narcoleptic attack. Rux, Kallahan, Samlan, and Balfour rushed them, oil flasks at ready. Winslow fell back, hid behind some rock, and started pelting the monsters with stones.
Alas, all but the elf repeatedly missed. Rux, being the first to come within throwing range, also missed with his oil flask. Hobgoblins used the opportunity to mob him. One of them grabbed him by the arm as he was about to light another flask, and chopped it off with its axe. Other two then wrestled him down to the ground, and beat him to a pulp. He was defiant until the very end.
Taaaz, inside the east tower, was trading blows with the monster. Both were strong and pumped, dexterous and agile—but the fighter was better! Not even a crab spider dropping from the ceiling broke his concentration. The monster swung its morningstar, missed the warrior by an inch. Taaaz responded by dropping his greatsword low between the attackers legs, followed by a might swing upwards; cleaving the monster in half.
Then he grabbed its big head, smashing it with his gauntled fist; ripping out its still pulsing throat. Unrelenting in his brutality, he grabbed still the monster still twitching remains, and threw them into the hallway he fled from, slamming the doors behind him.
Outside, the party rained arrows, rocks, and oil flasks at the charging hobgoblins. Gon'd'elf took two down, and Balfour set one alight. Large, tiger-faced, monster charged in, swinging wildly. It took four arrows and six blows to take it down. It was Balfour, still enraged with Rux's death, who mercilessly clubbed the creature on both sides of its head.
“Shall we go in to save our friends?”
“Nah, he made his bed. There'll be time for revenge!”
“Who is in there?”
Taaaz, dripping with blood of his enemies, and breathing heavily observed the room he was in. It was small, with a wall-to-wall gold-green tapestry. He could hear a sound of crashing doors from behind it. A similar creature to the one he just eviscerated stepped out from behind the gold-green tapestry and lunged at him with its bare hands.
Brushing off its blows, the fighter struck it several times, bringing his sword down on its skull. As the monster dropped to its knees, Taaaz continued hammering its head with the pummel of his greatsword, until there was nothing but mashed brain jelly all over the floors, walls, tapestry, and himself.
The room now thoroughly reeked of blood and fur. A quick frisk of the corpse revealed eight gold coins. Scuttling could be heard from behind the tapestry.
“Let's head back to the camp. We can regroup there and figure further course of action. It's just four hundred feet away. Let's go!”
The warrior used his two-handed sword to unhinge the top-left of the tapestry, provoking the crab spider to lunge at its own death, impaling itself on Taaaz's greatsword.
Wounded and exhausted, the only logical course of action was to plunder this small room for all its riches. A closer inspection of the tapestry revealed a motif of a hart chased by hounds and riders. The colors are now faded, and several large holes ruin the composition. Moths have also been at the tapestry, and any light shone on the far side of the tapestry is visible as pinpricks of light coming through the tapestry's surface.
He also noticed a chest by the north-west wall. It was old and with a broken latch. Some rubbish and silver coin were all its contents. Taaaz knelled down, and started folding the tapestry so he can put it into his backpack.
As he was doing so, both doors burst open, and the small ten by fifteen room was flooded by goblins and hobgoblins, surprising the fighter. He tried to swing, but alas, missed them all.
The sheer quantity of small critters was too much for Taaaz to handle, and they quickly crawled up his legs and pulled down on his arms. One of the hobgoblins squeezed him in a bear hold, while the other smashed the warrior's helmet with a mace.
Wrestling him down to the ground, one of the goblins gleefully clawed out the fighter's eyes, while the others repeatedly stabbed him into the neck.
“Maybe we should go back for him? He is one of us after all...”
As they ran to their camp to take a breather, a mass of creatures poured out of the eastern tower. The largest of them carried a bloodied greatsword.
“Into the VVagon!”
And Taaaz's illustration of the keep:
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Taaaz | Fighter level 2 | Tall figure whose skinny frame is hidden behind plate armour he never takes off—including the helmet. |
| Bobins | Halfling level 1 | A curly-haired, dagger-wielding halfling in search of adventure. |
| Amanda Hugencuise | Thief level 1 | A new girl in town, claiming to be foreign exchange student, up for some “exciting missions” and enjoying the local cuisine. |
| Rad | Thief level 1 | A young, short and malnourished rogue. |
| Rux | Cleric level 1 | A humble priest of Dyrantril, God of Alchemy. |
| Gon'd'elf | Elf level 1 | “Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time. |
Taaaz's and Bobins's reports linked at the end of the post.
There it stood—calling them, teasing them. A gray featureless monolith, sixty feet wide and sixty feet tall. One of them already died scaling it.
Taaaz was the one who found it. Taaaz was the one beckoned by it. Taaaz was the one who convinced the party to go back. Taaaz was the only one who hadn't entered the canoe to inspect it up closer.
Large wooden gates on the west face were the only discernible entrance. They stood twenty feet above the water—for the tower was in the middle of sprawling lake—without any obvious platform or gangway.
It was quiet. Solemn. There were no birds chirping. No fish or other aquatic life disturbing the tense water surface. No game came to satiate their thirst.
Rux, Rad, and Bobins canoed their way to the tower, intent on discovering its secrets. Rad, the scrawny thief, decided to go for a dive and investigate what lurks underneath. The tower went deeper than twenty feet. If Rad was to dive there, he'd have to risk his very existence.
After some tinkering, the party came up with a set of ingenious solutions—repurpose vials and waterskins as oxygen containers, and tie a rope to Rad so they can pull him out. Now, well resourced Rad was ready for another deep dive.
A hit!
Some thirty feet down, he found a circular hole in the wall, covered with large iron grate. Pushing his luck, Rad swam up to it and tried to pull on it. Alas, his body failed him, and he gasped for air. His friends evacuated him before his lungs filled with water.
Having had enough water, Rad opted to scale the tower instead. The further up the central line he went, the colder the stone was.
The top was as featureless as other faces. A flat sixty by sixty plateau of solid stone. It didn't look chiselled or hewn. It looked as if it was one solid piece, just dumped here. Rad's strikes echoed through the wilderness, confirming that he is indeed hitting stone.
He had a flash of inspiration whilst rappelling down to the canoe—why not burn the gates down? So he doused the with all the oil he had and light it up. Alas, they did not go out in flames as expected. Fire was humble, but it was there, slowly peeling the layers of bloated, damp wood.
Having exhausted above ground options, the party decided to revisit the underwater grate.
Taaaz, and his buff retainer Arian, were monitoring from the shores. Perhaps they were too entranced by the tower to notice a figure some hundred feet away from them.
”...You want this, don’t you? The hate is swelling in you now.” a gentle breeze carried said words to Taaaz.
“Who goes there? Identify yourself!” Taaaz shoot back, running up to the figure, weapons drawn.
“Take your weapon. Use it. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it! Give in to your anger! With each passing moment, you make yourself more my servant...”
Taaaz shrugged, and then backhanded the figure with all his might.
“Oh my! Where am I? What is happening? Oh; I was in the reverie... Why did you strike me!” it was clear that the knocked figure was an elf. He indeed looked genuinely confused.
“You asked me to slap you so I did. You serve me now.”
“Nooooooo!”
“What were you doing here? What were you looking for?”
“Ancient scriptures tell of The Tower of Ghshushuahmen and its riches. It comes and goes; but I found it. I tried to get in, again and again; but I was taken by the Reverie...”
The elf in question was Gon'd'elf, a sole survivor of the encounter with the black bog horror treading the cursed marshes at foots of Windgod Hills.
Joining their forces, the party regrouped at the shore and evaluated their options. Ripping off the grate won as the preferred way.
Gon'd'elf, the agile elf he is, took a dive and tied a knot to the grate. Taaaz and Rux pulled with all their might. At first they felt great resistance, then nothing, then great resistance again.
Bobins, a skilled swimmer, was the next one to take a dive. He pulled himself down, using the rope tied to the grate. Although they hadn't managed to rip it out as planned, it was bent enough for the halfling to crawl through.
And so Bobins swam into complete and utter darkness. From time to time he could feel mushy lumps of different consistency than the water. Swimming straight for some ten minutes, he hit into a solid surface. Gently caressing it revealed that it terminate to the right side. Alas, this was the moment he ran out of breath, and was saved only by his fellow adventurers' quick reaction.
Whilst Bobins was taking a dive, Taaaz remembered reading about herbs used for water breathing potions in “Botany, The Complete History.” Rux confirmed that alchemists do know how to brew such potions. And then they both remembered the Great Orbaal, a master alchemist they met in Antil.
Deciding they did as much as they could, the party gathered up their belongings and returned to Antil.
The party broke off into the city, each with their own mission.
Bobins hit the lowest of the low, frequenting inns like Drunken Whore, Hare's Head, and Seven Vultures. It was in the last one he met a self pitying old man whom kept talking about how “everybody is dead because of me and my ambitions.”
With some words and liquid of encouragement he disclosed that he is a historian and archaeologist specialised in Orcish artefacts. He was following a lead to a “legendary spear whom allows the wielder to unite Orc clans.”
The man was too distressed and drunk for other details. He did manage to scribble on Bobins map the approximate location of the ruined fort “where all are dead because of me.”
Rux visited the Great Orbaal and endured his inane stories. The alchemist agreed to brew a pot of Potion of Waterbreathing for 300 gold coins, some crocodile gizzards, and details from racy encounters with mer-folk.
Gon'd'elf went recruiting, hiring two fine warriors—Ehrman and Ariad Simner.
Taaaz spent the day at Friend's Arms, an upscale tavern in Merchant's Quarters. There he was approached by a young noble from distant lands. The man requested protection services, because “local thugs” aren't trustworthy. He offered to pay Taaaz 500 gold pieces, and make him his warlord “if all goes according to plan—and it will!” He is eager to leave Antil as soon as possible. After all, his destiny awaits!
Which path will the party choose next?
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Gabriel Faria | Elf level 1 | Cravatted silk shirt and a gold-encrusted rapier are all this 7th son of a duke needs to carve his own empire. |
| Brother Kallahan | Cleric level 2 | Crooked, broken nose; big bags under eyes; long hair, bald spot hidden under old pilgrim's hat; and emaciated figure. Mosquitoes and the smell of dampness always accompanies him. |
| Rux | Cleric level 1 | A humble priest of Dyrantril, God of Alchemy. |
| Amanda Hugencuise | Thief level 1 | A new girl in town, claiming to be foreign exchange student, up for some “exciting missions” and enjoying the local cuisine. |
| Taaaz | Fighter level 2 | Tall figure whose skinny frame is hidden behind plate armour he never takes off—including the helmet. |
| Remli Smither | Thief level 2 | Crooked, squat-looking figure with boil-covered face and tar-black fingernails. |
Kallahan's and Remli's reports linked at the end of the post.
“You recusant scum should face your reckoning any moment now!” the lead gate-keeper was frothing, pacing nervously between Brother Kallahan and rest of the party. Aimon and Samlan seemed quite anxious with the whole things, whilst Taaaz was primarily concerned about his sack of fermenting monster parts.
“Oooops...” Gabriel exhaled slowly, as he “accidentally” dropped one of his coin-filled sacks “How clumsy of me!” His ploy worked—even the guard whom was scribing notes in the corner lifted his head with curiosity.
“Perhaps we could come to an arrangement? You fetch your letter-boy back, and let us pass without any hassle? In return, you get 200 gold pieces—years of salary!” Gabriel ignored Amanda's quiet protestation “Oh my, you'll crash the local economy.”
“Come on Pol, it's a good offer! Grand Inquisitor has been executed, these poor folk were merely his victim. Look at them! Tell me, have you seen more honest folk around here?” one of the guards pleaded with the gate-keeper. He was soon pushed into another room by other guards.
Rux, a fresh arrival was observing with great interest—an action that Gabriel hadn't fail to notice. “Young man, today is your lucky day! Would you like to earn such treasure that you can afford to bribe people with such coin without worry?”
“Indeed, my day had been blessed!” Rux clasped his hand piously “It'd be an honour to follow your path.” Perhaps he wouldn't be so enthusiastic if he knew Gabriel's actual path, but that is for some other story.
“Enough of this peasant life. We shall have the finest Antil has to offer!” And so they went to Friend's Arms, where one is pampered and well-fed and provided a private room with proper iron-frame bed for ten gold coins a night.
Amanda, though, opted to head for the “beach” with two blonde hunks. After all, girls just want to have fun.
Three-day shopping spree and a funeral.
On first day, Amanda continued partying, meeting Hulking Rocco. She had him around her finger, doing her bidding as she pleases. Taaaz sought a buyer for his rotten monster parts at the Walled Bazaar. Most shooed him away—given his bloodstained and unkempt appearance—sans one ardent merchant.
“I'm afraid I have no use of this son! But anyone brave enough to skin such beast is surely brave enough to fetch me some Wyvren spit! Trust me son, I will pay good coin for that. In fact, I'm happy to give you 10 gold pieces right now for that sack of rotting flesh—as goodwill. What do you say?” few pats later, Taaaz had a list of bodily parts, fluids, and excretions, Great Orbaal is willing to pay for.
Gabriel, Kallahan, and Rux went to the main square to see if any accommodation was offered at the bulletin board. They were proper adventurers now, rich and famous, and they ought to purchase they own place. An abandoned whorehouse and impounded vermin-infested warehouse were on the offer.
“Oi! You pointy son of a bitch! Oi!”
Kallahan and Rux turned around to see an angry looking dwarf charging Gabriel, his battleaxe swinging through the air.
“What has gotten into you?!” another dwarf ran after the raging one “Calm down Goreaxe!” Alas, he was too slow, but luckily, Gabriel was quick enough to avoid the blow.
“Pathetic strike, dwarf!” Gabriel Faria never forgets faces. And he knew this one quite well, for he was always on the lookout. This was a jeweler he charmed many weeks ago. “I'll hack you, limb by limb!”
“Oh, will you now?” elf quipped back, chanting arcane words and waving his hands. “Oh no, not again, you won't!” the dwarf grunted through his clenched teeth, spittle flying out, his eyes becoming even redder—in fact, Gabriel could see few of the capillary tubes pop.
Kallahan and Rux mixed in with the crowd. Gabriel turned around to flee. Goreaxe's battleaxe sunk in between his shoulder blades, sliding down all the way to his tailbone. Masked avenger fell to his knees, vomiting blood.
“Calm down! Come on! What are you doing!” the other dwarf finally reached Goreaxe. “Come on, you are a pacifist, what are you doing?!” But his words fell on deaf ears. Enraged dwarf was hitting Gabriel's lifeless body. Again. And again. And again.
“That soon of a bitch! Look what he did to me! And I was abstaining for fourteen years!” he yelled as five dwarfs grappled him. By now local guards got involved as well.
Kallahan ran up to chopped up Gabriel, unleashing exasperated “Noooooooooo!” as he fell to his knees. Rux attempted to consoled him, albeit a bit awkwardly.
The elf might've been a harsh master, but he willed all his belonging to Taaaz, his squire. The party arranged that his body will be delivered to Faria family, where he shall receive a proper royal burial.
Taaaz wiped his tears with all the coins he inherited, and went back to Friend's Arms. There he met abhorrent Remli Smither, whom he happily recruited. The rest went back to Hare's Head Inn, where one can sleep and eat well for one gold coin.
Over the next few days they procured a wagon and two draft horses, two canoes, plethora of adventuring and delving equipment, as well as three new retainers: Arian, Balfour the Faun, and Rocco.
They set for lake tower on the morning of next day.
Spring was in the air. Birds chirping, flowers blooming, nature erecting itself as far as the eye can see. The tower was not even a day's walk away.
There it stood, sixty by sixty by sixty cube of gray stone, smack in the middle of intrepid lake with green moss and vegetation demarcating it from the water it poked out of.
It had some unique quality of solemnity and silence to it. In fact, unlike the surroundings, there was very little wildlife here.
A massive twenty by twenty feet wooden gates, some twenty feet above water level, were the only visible feature. Kallahan and Remli boarded one of the canoes and went to investigate.
Rux sought a safe camping spot, for night was about to fall within an hour or two. Amanda worked on hand drills with Rocco. Taaaz and retainers watched guard over lake explorers.
The tower seemed to be of rough, but solid, build. It did look a bit uncommon, as if it was cast out of one piece, versus assembled from hewed stone. Either way, nothing to alarm our enterprising Remli.
Working his nimble limbs, he scaled the wall, and gates themselves, trying to wedge his fingers in the clearance at the top. Alas, the gates—which now seemed to be some sort of drawbridge—were too bloated to be moved. His keen eyes did notice three slits in the walls: one above him, and two to the side.
Climbing further up, he could see the slit was ten feet wide and two fists tall. Wedging his knee inside, he tied a dagger to one end of the rope, and pushed it into the tower to create a makeshift anchor.
Kallahan carefully pulled on it as a test. That, indeed was a smart choice, for the dagger wobbled and fell out, almost piercing the priest. Rux, having secured a perfect camping spot, was now watching with interest from the shore.
He could see Remli falling straight down whilst maintaining a very stiff body posture—as if he was paralysed or petrified. He could see Kallahan jumping backwards, as if to stabilise the canoe, and then jumping forward, as to grab Remli. Alas, it was too little, too late. The thief rotated mid-air, scrapping his face for at least twenty feet, ultimately ending up as a broken mess.
A brief burial later, and the party was discussing their further course of action. “This looks hard. Lets kill some lizards instead.” Taaaz proposed.
What will they do next?
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Brother Kallahan | Cleric level 1 | Crooked, broken nose; big bags under eyes; long hair, bald spot hidden under old pilgrim's hat; and emaciated figure. Mosquitoes and the smell of dampness always accompanies him. |
| Taaaz | Fighter level 2 | Tall figure whose skinny frame is hidden behind plate armour he never takes off—including the helmet. |
| Gabriel Faria | Elf level 1 | Cravatted silk shirt and a gold-encrusted rapier are all this 7th son of a duke needs to carve his own empire. |
| Amanda Hugencuise | Thief level 1 | A new girl in town, claiming to be foreign exchange student, up for some “exciting missions” and enjoying the local cuisine. |
Taaaz's, Kallahan's, and Gabriel's reports linked at the end of the post.
“This?!” a heavily armoured figure mounted on a light-brown horse roared at Kallahan “This is what you came out with 'brother?!' Oh, how you disappointed me!”
Grand Inquisitor Dwarvard Blumer was anything but subtle in his display of disapproval. His gaze focused; his voice booming; his inquiry unrelenting.
“Have you no tongue, mute? Speak up!”
But Kallahan, Amanda, Samlan, and Otsus stood there as petrified. They were to busy fleeing with sacks of coin to notice Inquisitor and his retinue waiting for them just outside. By the time they looked up—it was too late. The holy man waved his hand, shouting “Might makes right!” and they were stopped still, right in their tracks.
“You there! This one doesn't speak. What do you have to say!”
The Grand Inquisitor waved eagle-topped iron pole at Gabriel and his crew—Taaaz, Aimon, Wyninn, and earless Dyffros—demanding an answer. Silver-tongued duelist was more than ready to abide.
“We are returning from a mission we've been hired to do. Now let us pass.”
“A mercenary you say. And what was this mission you speak of? For, all I know is that you've failed it in all regards!”
“We did what we were hired to do! Might makes right, does it not Grand Inquisitor? Sister Silenete was the one who failed—she was weak, and we were mighty. Now let us pass!”
“Indeed, might makes right! You've earned your leave. But this one” waving his totem at Kallahan “this one I have unfinished business with. Begone now!”
Unwilling to leaver their partner in crime, Gabriel and the crew hesitated to move quite yet. Finally, trembling and with shaky voice, Kallahan spoke up.
“G-G-Grand Inquisitor, what seems to be the matter?”
“Haven't you been recruited to recover holy relics from the maws of evil? And have we not understood each other that's what I'll be waiting for outside? And what have your brought out instead?”
“B-But I did work on that, but there is a horrible monstro–”
“Do you trust me?! Do you!”
“N-No, not really. You've surrounded me here and are yelling like a mad-man about to deliver some jungle justice. I find it difficult to trust you!”
And to that Grand Inquisitor unleashed a hearty laugh “This is the most honest you've been with me so far!” toning his voice down, almost to deep murmur “You know what you have to do, brother. Atone! Make me proud!”
Dwarvard waved his hand, and Kallahan could feel his muscles again. He was free to move. “Y-Yes, Grand Inquisitor!”
The party turned around, and went back into the dark caves.
“Might makes right!” roared behind them.
“If you were mighty, you'd be going in with us!” Gabriel shoot back “Weak, weak, weak!”
So far they always went north, following a series of tunnels and corridors to the beast's lair. “We have to lure it outside... If we are lucky, it'll butcher those zealots.” Making an educated guess that south corridors might go straight into the lair, they opted to explore exactly that route.
Indeed, they entered a chamber some 40 by 40 feet, with slopping ceiling revealing a ledge some 30 feet up. While Amanada climbed, others set up a security perimeter on all sides. Taaaz took to guard the rear. Gabriel went to the mouth of the chamber, which seemed to exit into a truly cavernous cavity. His lantern could illuminate anything but the limestone floor.
Amanda managed to get up—after few unsuccessful tries—only to find a large, abandoned nest. It reeked and was peppered with small bones and pebbles. Putting a handkerchief over her face, she drove in, searching for any valuable.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”
A horrible, and familiar, screech echoed down the cavernous chamber Gabriel was looking into. Heavy, galloping thuds followed. The elf chucked a burning oil flask into the darkness. Flames scarred the darkness for a brief enough moment to reveal the elephant-like body covered in warts, topped by seven disgusting heads on long, tubular, veiny necks.
Everybody bravely fled—tactical retreat, as some called it—whilst Amanda hid in the nest. Kallahan stayed behind, pretending to fight the creature and walking back slowly. The acolytes chuckled at Gabriel “Who is weak now, coward!”
“Shut up and form a shield wall, for a great monster is coming!” hesitant at first, they obliged and formed a 40 feet wide perimeter. Taaaz said “fuck it” and stood all the way back, by the donkey. Kallahn was last to run in, heroically fighting the darkness away.
“Sons! Make me proud!” Dwarvard roared, casting Bless on the brave men.
Giant, deformed human head with horse-like jaw poked out of darkness. Two more joined. Then three more. Final one was erect. It was still screaming.
The party unleashed arrow and oil bombs. The creature responded by charging in, each head attacking with unconstrained violence. One acolyte was swallowed whole, his muffled screams still heard from the beast's pulsating throat. Otsus managed to survive a blow from one head, but alas, it dazed him too much to avoid a bit from another.
The monster dove its rotten, blunt, yellow teeth into his collarbone, biting him diagonally in half. Then it bit him by the hip, lifting him up, and chomped him into pieces. Blood and gore splattered all over Kallahan.
“Oh, this will be glorious!” Grand Inquisitor quipped as he joined the fray. They all took a swing at the monster, cutting and battering it wherever they could. Gabriel stumbled and fell into prone position. That did not go unnoticed.
One of the heads lifted him by the belt, and slammed him straight into the cave wall. Others—all but one—missed their mark. Wyninn tried to jump over a sweeping head, but was too slow. The creature bit both of his legs off, including his lower abdomen. Guts were strewn all over the holy warriors on the eastern flank.
A hulking paladin jumped over the mutilated corpse, driving a long sword with all his might into the creature's body. The screaming head finally shut up. The beast stumbled, and collapsed.
“Goronwy, you are truly the strongest of my sons!”
“Might makes right! Might makes right!”
Inquisitor's' crew was so delighted with this challenge that they started to jump with join, fist- and chest-bumping with each other. Kallahan rushed to heal the broken Gabriel.
“Is this why she had chosen you?” Inquisitor softly said whilst placing his hand on Kallahan's shoulder. “How come you have divine blessings, even thought you haven't undertaken the Pilgrimage?”
“It's a gift Grand Inquisitor I've always had.”
“Come. Your fear has been alleviated. Take us there.”
And so they marched into the creature's lair. All but Taaaz. He stayed behind to carve up the monster.
“Brother Kallahan, we'll take these holy relics to Antil. Now, I've been thinking... Would you be interested in continuing Sister Silente's mission? Let's speak once we are back.”
The party, of course, stayed behind to clean up a bit. After all, those thousands of coins won't sort and pack themselves! A watch, twelve sacks, and a donkey later, the party was fully encumbered with 2 000 copper pieces, 4 000 electrum pieces, and 3 000 gold pieces.
Alas, since Dyffros deserted, and Taaaz insisted on hauling monster parts, they had to leave a sack of copper pieces behind. Opting to march around the Windgod Hills, they reach Antil in nine days.
“Names and purpose of travel” the guard asked, as always.
“We are returning from our pilgrimage. We'll br heading to the temple of Shang Ta.”
“Pilgrimage? What's with all the clacking sacks and donkey? You look more like merchants than pilgrims to me?”
“Silence! We are here on behalf of Grand Inquisitor Dwarvard Blumer! Now let us pass, for he expects us.”
By the time Kallahan's lowered his voice, more than a dozen of guards were surrounding the party.
“Why, yes of course. How about you follow me into the tower as we summon the Grand Inquisitor.”
“No, we want–”
“Get in, you heretical scum!” the guards pushed Kallahan in, while the rest of the party reluctantly followed. Some of the guards spat at Kallahan, who replied in kind.
“Dwarvard was executed for heresy days ago! We knew he had more collaborators, but we didn't know they'd be stupid enough to announce themselves!”
One of the guards ran out of the tower.
“The High Priest will be here any moment. Might makes right!”
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