Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Sinai	Cleric level 3	White-robbed beduin, worshipper of Bukera, The Silent Scorpion.
Rhovar	Fighter level 2	A generic Nordic guy.
Adkin the Butcher	Fighter level 2	A hot headed warrior quick to fury trained by Marco Vitelli, retired quartermaster of the army of the Invincible Overlord.
Rad	Thief level 1	A young, short and malnourished rogue.
Amanda Hugencuise	Thief level 4	A new girl in town, claiming to be foreign exchange student, up for some “exciting missions” and enjoying the local cuisine.
Gon'd'elf	Elf level 2	“Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time.

Sinai's report linked at the end of the post.

Warmshade 6th, Airday

“Please, I keep dreaming him! I see him in a black, tar black hole. He is suffering! But it is not a dream! It is real! I know it is! I beg of you, please rescue him! Please!” a heavily distraught woman pleaded with Rad, a Hydra Company officer. “He is in a dark hole! Lost and scared! And there is this hairy creature with him... Oh, please, I beg of you!”

“Miss, please calm down. We will take care of it. Can you tell us more about his location or anything?” alas, the woman was getting more and more upset, and had little to offer except possibility to inspect her husband's workshop.

A month passed since she visited Rad, and she was overjoyed to receive his visit. The party rummaged through his belongings while she described her dear husband “Oh, he stands over six feet tall with long, gorgeous blond hair. A smile that melts peoples' hearts! Very wise and gifted man. We were so happy, but one day he decided that he wants more for us. He joined a band of adventurers who sorely needed his arcane talent. It went fine for some time, but then they went missing...”

Indeed, most of scroll and books were on arcane matters. They did find mentions of a “lost city” with a supposedly “vast library of long forgotten knowledge.” No maps could be found, although the entries indicated that the entrance might be where from “whence the Whitecrown Stream emerges.”

“Penelope, we will take care of your husband. But we must research more about his whereabouts.” Unfortunately no sage was to be found in all of Antil. They did learn about Drommo, a divination extraordinaire. Apparently, he visits Antil once a month.

“You know what? We could visit those peasants that sought our help as well. I mean, they are on our way anyway, right?”

And so the party consisting of Sinai and his three followers Herat, Phelim “The Scorpion”, and Norna “The Repulsive”; Rhovar, Adkin “The Butcher”, Rad, Amanda, and Gon'd'elf with his two trusty retainers Ariad and Ehrman, started preparing for their expedition.

Warmshade 8th, Earthday

What a sight to behold! Heavily armed and armoured party of twelve, ridding their magnificent steeds through the Gates of Antil! A banner depicting the purple, three-headed hydra, fluttered against the wind as they galloped along the coast of Romilion Sea. Fearless! Glorious! Unabated!

They scoffed at villagers of Kestizar; crossed the River Highcourse unchallenged; and rode to the heart of Bathdawn with gentleness of Great Thabrian Khans of Old. Peasants fled for their lives—some threw themselves into the wheat fields, others ran into their modest huts, and whomever remained soiled themselves.

“Fear not, we are here to help!” Adkin The Butcher announced striking the Hydra banner into the ground. An eternity later, two young—broad shouldered and red skinned—men walked out to face them. Both were visibly shaking, but tried their best to hide it.

“Y-You said you a-are here to h-h-help us?”

“Indeed!”

“D-Do you know Winslow? T-The fighter we asked for help in Antil?”

“I know not him; but he too was an office in our glorious company! We are here to offer our assistance with your problem!”

Colden, the cool one, and Eilif, the stuttering one, did their best in describing the happenings that have been plaguing them for months now. First, some cattle went missing. Then, people started going missing as well. They are all perplexed since there are no carcasses left. They did find some sort of sticky white residue from time to time, but it was so unfamiliar they've simply ignored it.

Whilst searching for his brother, Eilif found his armband close to the rocky banks of a small river in the hills. The trail disappeared down into a fissure in the limestone rock. He was too scared to go into the darkness... Hence they sought out warriors who'd be willing to help them.

“Take us there!”

Leaving Herat behind to guard the horses, the party followed a fast-running stream into the fissure... They traversed a narrow and uneven path, ever watching not to hit their head on the hanging stalactites, nor to slip on the treacherous floor. They were chilled by the fresh stream. After some half an hour, they found where it terminates—a waterfall.

Rad, secured with a rope around his waist, edged closer and closer. A fungal (or mossy?) overgrowth crusted on the southern cavern wall caught his attention. Alas, it was so interesting he slipped and lost footing. Waterfall was quick to pull him down, and gallons of ice-cold water poured down his back. Luckily, his friends quickly pulled him up.

Unsure how to proceed, the party spent an hour discussing different plans. “How about we build a dam?” “What about re-routing the stream and waiting for whatever is inside to come out?” “Maybe if we get a bunch of sheep and use them as bait?” “That moss is evil! We have to scrape or burn it!” “Anybody got climbing hooks? We can nail them to the ceiling and have one of the thieves traverse it from above?”

“Maybe I can take another peek?”

And so Rad approached the waterfall once more. Having learned his lesson, this time he went on all four, ensuring he doesn't slip. The crusted fungus looked like it sprawls down into the darkness. There seemed to be holes in it as well, as if for climbing. Another curiosity caught his attention as well. There was a wooden pipe, roughly five feet below the waterfall, that seemed to be fed by the flow of water. It hung in the air and followed the northern cave wall.

“Hold me guys, I'm going down!”

And down he went. A large, wet cavern it was. The stream continued south-east. Following it led him to a narrower tunnel flanked on both sides by an extraordinarily ugly plants. Both looked as if they were growing straight out of the rock. A group of tendril-like appendages hung from their bottom side. Rad took a shot at one; it responded by releasing some goo and flattening itself against the cave wall.

Unwilling to proceed further alone, Rad inspected the cavern once more. This time he found that the stream actually splits in two before reconnecting. The smaller flow seemed to run through a hand-made canal that has a small pool to the side. There he found a small wooden casket which contained a wooden key. He went straight back to inform other adventurers of his findings.

“Are we sure these plants are evil? I'm not willing to go around exterminating life on potentially erroneous assumptions.” Gon'd'elf offered. After some back and forth, Amanda decided to come closer and see if plants actually do anything. Indeed, as she came within ten feet of the northern plant, it attempted to lash out by flattening itself against the cavern wall, and then bouncing of it. Amanda was too quick and experienced to fall on such trick, and was quickly out of danger.

It didn't take long until both plants were filled with arrows.

Down the tunnel was yet another waterfall, but this time so wide there was no clear access point. There was a round wooden indentation on one side of the tunnel, and a small wooden box on the other side. The latter had a keyhole. Lo and behold, the key Rad found fit in perfectly.

Turning the key triggered the round door-like wooden indentation to come out and divert the flow of water to a narrow canal to the side, revealing natural looking wooden-rung ladder going down. After brief descent, the party ran into a four-way intersection. A large growth of the wood in the middle of the junction divided the stream into three parts, guiding them down the central channel of each tunnel. So far all the encountered wooden object seemed naturally grown.

Without any leads, the party decided to flow the west tunnel. Even without a dwarf they could feel they are descending. It was a long, winding tunnel. Nothing but the stream and their armour clanking could be heard. After some time they passed by a cavern whose entrance seemed blocked b ropy pillars of fungus growth. They moved on, following the stream.

Much to their surprise, they encountered a waterwheel connected to a large wooden box. A funnel fed into it. Clicking and creaking noise came from inside the box, as did a strong smell of fish. One of the members dared to open it, revealing some sort of mincing device producing a pinkish paste.

Proceeding further, they encountered a T-shaped junction. The southern tunnel continued visibly downward, and the stream seemed to speed up as well. Stalagmites covered the uneven ground, and stalactites were more numerous then so far. It looked quite difficult to descend. Hence they opted for the eastern tunnel.

They quickly found themselves at what seemed to be another large cave. Nine crooked trees in large earthenware pots were illuminated by bluish light from numerous strands of glowing moss hanging from the ceiling. The floor was grooved, creating three channels from the stream. Each was flowing under three pots.

Sinai felt something was horribly amiss. A feint, but constant, murmuring could be heard. It filled the chamber, and sounded like it was coming from every imaginable direction. The tree closest to them started shivering. Its branches descended down, as if they were arms, and it pulled itself out of the pot. Stretching its warped frame revealed its true size, towering nine feet tall.

Two more trees joined it. The hateful sounds became louder.

Player Session Reports

• Sinai's diary entry

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Rad	Thief level 3	A young, short and malnourished rogue.
Gon'd'elf	Elf level 2	“Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time.
Sinai	Cleric level 3	White-robbed beduin, worshipper of Bukera, The Silent Scorpion.

Longrass 15th, Spiritday

“Retreat to safety!” the elf commanded. Rhovar was grievously wounded in the ambush just moments ago, and he required immediate care. The party managed to slay their hobgoblin enemies, much due to elven arcane tricks.

Once they were back in safety of their camp, they decided to observe the mine entrance for the rest of the day. A tall, broad shouldered figure dressed in white hooded robes, approached their camp. The man was Sinai, a desert cleric from Queans Waste. He quickly demonstrated his worth by healing Rhovar.

Not a soul came in or out of the mine.

Longrass 16th, Airday

They came here to explore the mithril mine where Aergal Firebeard's son went missing some six months ago. Unwilling to risk another ambush, Rad scaled the hills by the mine entrance, in search of any other camps or entry points.

Lo and behold, nearly an hour later he found a shaft with primitive elevator. The hole was bounded by simple wooden fence. Three wooden pillars were connected with a cross above, and a simple—but sturdy basket—was suspended with two thick ropes. Rad felt like two persons could fit inside. There was a crank on the outer side of the right beam. The whole contraption looked old and unused, but still functional. The thief quickly found his way back, and informed the party of his findings.

After some discussion, the following adventurers went to explore: Rad, Sinai, Gon'd'elf and his two retainers—Ehrman and Ariad. Elf noticed a sight most terrifying, just as they were approaching the sight: a great black dragon was flying far above. The brave heroes quickly hid in whatever bushes and overgrowth they could find around. It seemed as if the dragon came from the direction of the Romilion Sea, and went further south-west.

It took them some time before they emerged from their hiding spots. Had to make sure the dragon is really gone!

How does one explore a shaft that leads deep into the mountain? The party tried throwing stone, lowering the lantern on a rope, staring intensely into the darkness... They learned one thing only: it is deeper than 50 feet. Finally, Rad had enough, and asked to be lowered down in the basket.

Old and unmaintained, the contraption creaked and moaned, as Rad went deeper and deeper. It took some thirty minutes, but the thief had emerged into a cavernous chamber. It was full of foul smell. Rad could see five sacks filled with straw. Three were roughly human sized, and two were much larger. His light barely illuminated two exits, one to the east, and one to the south. Too scared to investigate further on his own, he shook the rope, hoping his friends above would understand the signal.

“Take him out!” the elf commanded. Rad's relief didn't last for too long—two arrows that came from souther darkness barely missed him.

“What now?”

“Main entrance?”

“Main entrance.”

What followed is best described as extremely cautious delving. They party took their time and advanced with great care and slowness. After few hours, they arrived to the same room Rad was in before. It was an irrefutable fact, supported by the evidence of the shaft, five sleeping sacks, and two arrows stuck in the beams leading up to the ceiling.

Collecting their courage, the party went into the south corridor... Only to discover noone there. There was a split, a T-shaped junction leading west and east. Both sides descended further down. West side terminated in a stone wall with large reinforced doors, while the east side seemed to curve further. Leaving Ariad behind to watch their back, the party went to investigate the eastern tunnel.

Another dark cave—albeit with a small difference: a bloated trapdoor in the south-east corner. Rad failed to open it—thrice! Gon'd'elf watched guard, omnipresent being he is, while Sinai took a look around. Alas, this was no desert.

“Master!” Ariad's alarmed voice rung down the tunnel. “I need reinforcements, Master!”

The party quickly ran back, ready for some violence. By the time they arrived, Ariad was locked in melee with a large hairy brute and a massive deformed wolf. Everybody but Rad joined in the brief, but brutal melee. Ehrman decapitated the wolf with his greatsword, while Gon'd'elf skewered the hairy monster with his polearm.

“They burst from the doors to the west. You've taught me well master—and I kept my watch as you instructed!”

Unwilling to risk further assaults from behind, the party descended down the western tunnel, intent on exploring what lies behind the doors. A fifty foot long and thirty feet wide chamber it was. But this was no natural cave; it was a man made chamber. Two long wooden tables, flanked by wooden benches, indicated this might've been a mess hall once. Iron rings and manacles in the north-west corner told a story of their own, as did the scratch marks on the floor... Was this where the monstrous wolf was chained?

The door far west side of the room led into a broad tunnel. Onwards and downwards the party went! An hour or so later—it's difficult the tell the passage of time when one trods through dark and monotonous tunnels—they emerged into a chamber so massive their light showed nothing but darkness.

Rad and Gon'd'elf could pick up feint sounds of metal hitting metal, and metal hitting stone, echoing from somewhere far west.

“Let's crawl east-ward, alongside the northern wall...” Indeed, after another half an hour or so, the party found a tunnel framed with wooden beams. The sign to the side said “Exhausted mithril node.”

“Well, if one were to keep prisoners, they'd probably throw them in some dead end like this?” the adventurers were quick to hypothesize. Only one way to find out.

Following the tunnel for another half an hour or so, they arrived to a dead end. The tunnel was cut short by a pile of rocks and stones, that seemed to be some sort of cave-in. Just before the cave in was a hewn chamber. There was a small wooden desk, and two rotten chairs, as well as some mining equipment strewn around on the floor. Old-looking ladder in the north-east corner went up into a claustrophobic-looking shaft.

While exploring the chamber for any valuables, few of the members picked up on the weird grumbling noises coming from behind the debris in the dead end. Stopping to listen, it definitely sounded like some sort of language. The voice seemed agitated. It went quiet once Rad came closer and asked a question in common.

“I am Bergal Firebeard, and this is my mine! I've been stuck here for months! Can you please get me the fuck out of here?! There are some pickaxes by the side. Start by removing the rocks by the left side, that will prevent further cave in...”

Following Bergal's instructions, the party was able to set him free after an hour of work. The dwarf that came out had the most offensive smell imaginable. His beard was large and scruffy, and apparently home to few fungi as well. Sinai almost offered his water, but then decided to drink it himself, instead.

“I've been working here with my crew when we got ambushed by those foul hobgoblins. I'll kill them all with my two hands!”

“How about we get you out first, and then you can come back for vengeance?”

And somehow that was enough to convince this half-mad dwarf to follow them. It turned out that the ladders led into the cave chamber where Rad was unable to open the trapdoor. Luckily, he was able to open it from this side. Moving quickly, the party reached their camp unmolested.

Having had a brief moment of respite, they asked Bergal to rest in the VVagon, and then took off for Antil. The dwarf was complaining all the time “Six months gone, and my father sends someone just now? What a greedy bastard!” They arrived on the morning of Warmshade 1st.

“You know, I'm not as mad as I seem. You have saved my life, and for that I will be forever grateful. Once I retake my own mine, I promise to craft a mithril weapon or armour of your choice—for each one of you. Rad, Guha, Rhovar, Sinai, Francis, Dolgo, Ariad, Ehrman, and yes, even you Gon'd'elf—I'll remember your names forever!”

Player Session Reports

Sinai's map:

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Rad	Thief level 2	A young, short and malnourished rogue.
Winslow	Fighter level 3	A dirty warrior reeking of urine, body odours, and rotten wood.
Guha	Thief level 1	Handsome and trustworthy gentleman who fled the jungle because it got “too hot.”
Gon'd'elf	Elf level 2	“Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time.
Deter Darker	Magic-User level 2	A stable boy whom got tired of shovelling horse shit.

Later...

Character	Class	Description
Rhovar	Fighter level 2	A generic Nordic guy.
Francis Goreaxe	Dwarf level 1	A son of Goreaxe, master jeweller of Antil.
Dolgo	Dwarf level 1	Francis's friend.

Longrass 11th, Airday

After carefully considering all their options, the party opted for the one they perceived to be the least amount of work for the most amount of gold—investigating Eargal Firebeard's mine and fate of his son whom went missing some six months ago.

With five adventurers, two retainers, VVagon full of equipment, and four mercenaries-in-training, this was a guaranteed success. While the rest of his peers spent their time preparing for the expedition, Guha decided to hit questionable inns and taverns for some rumours about influential actors in the city.

Nothing much came out of it (except some lost coin), but he did learn about the existence of the “Underlight Guild at the Walled Bazaar” from a man named Tabard.

The party set out, following the coast south-west. By mid-day they encountered a gross sight—vultures picking clean the carcasses of several slaughtered animals. The scene was gory, with blood splattered all over the coastal rocks. They smartly adjusted their course further south, to avoid the scene and whatever might've caused it.

The sun was up and spring was in full bloom. Winslow, whom had the rearguard duty, felt something was amiss. Sudden howls and barks did not surprise him. Seven wolves broke out of the woods, some with their muzzle still bloody, and charged the party without delay.

Winslow positioned himself to protect Deter, a fragile magic-user whose life he had already saved once. Alas, this time his noble act was rewarded by a wolf ripping out his throat. Another canine managed to take a bite of Deter, but he survived. Two mercenary trainees were lost to panic. Rad, Guha, and Ehrman, managed to down one each with a relentless barrage of arrows. Gon'd'elf's wizardry put the remaining wolves to sleep, finishing this brief, but brutal encounter.

The warrior was buried nearby, and the party continued their journey after brief moment of mourning.

Longrass 15th, Spiritday

“What are you doing?” a fine looking man dressed in gold-yellow cloak asked Deter. It was the third segment of night-watch, and it was the young cripple's turn.

“I'm chilling by the fire. Wanna join me”

“Chilling? What does that mean can you explain it to me?

“Well, you just sit down and don't do anything. Just enjoy yourself.

“I don't understand. Why would you do that?”

“It's a human thing...” Gon'd'elf interjected, awoken by the discussion.

“Ah, why didn't you say so earlier! Oh humans, I never understood their habits...”

“What are you doing here? Why are you out and about in the hills at this time?”

“I went out for a nice walk—to stretch my legs and enjoy some fresh air!”

“And where are you from? Where is your home?”

“Oh, just across the sea, at the Castelian Mountains. You ought to visit once. Well, I leave you to your “chilling” and off I go “chilling” in the hills.”

Bejewelled by the man's gilded cloak, Deter quickly grabbed some rope and followed him in the darkness. He snuck up on the man, but failed to surprise him. The figure turned around, with eyes glowing gold, and asked with stern voice “What are you doing?” Young mage already made up his mind, and went forward with his plan.

Calling it a plan might be an overstatement. An idea, perhaps, would be a better fitting word. Either way, Deter's intention was to quickly tie up the man, and take whatever valuables might there be on him. After all, someone who hikes in golden cloak must be full of treasure.

The figure easily overpowered Deter, and the whispered a word in a language so alien that it sounded like gentle breeze caressing the morning dew. At first Deter felt nothing but warmth and solace. That feeling was soon replaced with a tickling sensation in his fingertips, which then evolved into feeling like his skin was being twisted with great force.

He could see his fingers shrivel and wither; the effect soon expanded to his palms, then forearms, then elbows, and it didn't stop until his arms were nothing but two pathetic twigs. Golden-eyed figure blew some air, and Deter's twigs fell off.

Armless, the mage retread back to the camp, and hid himself in his bedroll... Perhaps he hoped none of his peers would notice his latest deformation.

Indeed, morning did not bring a flurry of questions. Other adventures were obviously too polite, or too self-absorbed to notice. They packed up their camp, and marched on in their quest for the mine.

It was high noon when they found it. There it stood, a gaping mouth on the western side of the Windgod Hills. An old wooden table and some chairs stood in front of the entrance. There were some dice on the table. The damaged sign said “Mithril Mine, Property of Firebeard.”

“That's the place. Let's go.”

Rhovar, a fighter whom the party met on their way here, took the lead. Armless Deter took the rearguard, while others were in between.

The mine entrance opened up in ten feet wide and tall corridor. Part of it was natural and part of it was hewn. Daylight didn't penetrate any further than 30 feet in.

The fighter was first to see the descent, but before he had any chance to inform the others, two large hairy brutes surprised him out of the darkness. They beat him unconscious.

At the same time, three armoured humanoids, whom Gon'd'elf recognised as hobgoblins, surprised Deter from behind. Alas, the Armless mage was pathetic opposition and was quickly killed.

Elvish tricks once again saved the day—once he put the three hobgoblins to sleep, everybody focused on the hairy brutes up front. One of the two slipped and dropped his weapon, while the other fled down into the darkness.

Francis and Dolgo, two dwarf buddies, joined the fray by jumping down from above, crushing the heads of two sleeping hobgoblins. The party rapidly wore down the sole standing monster, and then quickly retreated to their camp some two hundred feet away from the mine entrance.

Although wounded, withered, and demoralised, they arrived at the right place. What will they do next?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Gon'd'elf	Elf level 1	“Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time.
Amanda Hugencuise	Thief level 3	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.
Deter Darker	Magic-User level 2	A stable boy whom got tired of shovelling horse shit.
Winslow	Fighter level 2	A dirty warrior reeking of urine, body odours, and rotten wood.

Deter's and Winslow's reports linked at the end of the post.

Longrass 4th, Fireday

After few long weeks, the Hydra Company Headquarters were cleaned up. Whatever wasn't deemed to be worthy of adventuring had been either sold off or thrown out. Outsides have been repainted, windows refitted, and roof retiled. Spartan bunk beds have been procured—just enough so every company officer has one to sleep in.

Further, the company had plastered calls for employment at the main square, inviting “young men with brave hearts and hungry bellies. No equipment necessary as all training will be given. 1gp/per month, with room and board.”

56 people showed up, mostly locals, all eager to get their gold coin, some warm food, and a place to sleep at. Most are ganged up in front of the freshly painted entrance, eager to speak with Hydra Company officers. Sailors and dockworkers seemed to be slightly annoyed with this crowd, as they made their job more difficult.

Winslow devised two tests:

• First, he took them on a thirty minute run, followed by calisthenics.
• Second, those that still stood were interviewed one by one. At the end of the interview he handed them a sword and asked them to behead the horse. If they flinched and thought about it, but ultimately walked forward to hit the creature he'd stop them and told them they are hired. If they refused, they weren't hired. If they took the sword and went to do it with enthusiasm, they also weren't hired.

In the end, 14 men passed both tests. Winslow paid each a gold coin for their first wage packet. As men came to collect the coin, he'd whisper “Hail Hydra” in their ear. Some were confused, and yet others simply repeated the words.

“Welcome all you young lads of strong body and courageous heart, welcome to your new abode, it isn't much now but its home. Take a bowl of this stew and a good cup of ale. We are all family now!”

Longrass 5th, Spiritday

“We can't clean the cellar given all the lepers down there. And we did promise to help them retake their home... In return, they will show us what they know of the sewers.”

Winslow, Rad, Gon'd'elf, Amanda, Ariad, Ehrman, and Deter Darker prepared for the sewage crawl. Ariad and Ehrman were tasked with carrying a ladder. Winslow picked out Hamnet as the most promising recruit, and assigned him torch-bearing duties.

The leper led them through a secret passageway in the cellar. They traversed in a single file through a dank and dusty corridor for almost an hour before reaching the “sewers.”

Part cavern, part hewn stone, the tunnel was 15 feet wide with a three feet wide gangways on both sides. Trench running through the middle was filled with filthy, offensively malodorous, chest-deep water.

Unwilling to risk contracting leprosy, the party moved in a single file on one gangway, while the diseased guide walked on the other. Their steps echoed down the seemingly endless tunnel...

“We need to extinguish the torches before moving on... A massive swarm nests in the coming room... We have to be quiet and no harm will come to us.”

The party obliged. Gon'd'elf carefully took the lead, leveraging his elven infravision. The man wasn't lying—there were hundreds of tiny heat signatures above him, forming a domed shape. It was as if a gigantic, moth-eaten canopy was hung above him.

“We are here... I dare not go further! The hairy monster dwells there!” It's been nearly three hours since they descended in these foul tunnels—Winslow the only one who seemed unphased—so this were rather welcoming news.

The party could see a corridor connecting to the tunnel, albeit no sewage went into it. “We made this our home because no one passes here. It is, sorry, was, abandoned.” Rad peeked around the corner, only to see a number of thick spider webs.

“Light up?”

“Light up.”

Few oil bombs later, some of the webs were burned away. What little light that provided revealed the corridor expands into a triangle-shaped room filled with even more webs.

Rad took few steps in so he can throw fire deeper into the room. As he was about to lit up a new starter, a massive spider lunged out of the darkness. In fact, it was so large that it filled the full width of the corridor.

Winslow jumped forth to protect the scrawny thief, while the rest quickly formed ranks in the corridor; for fighting in the tunnel itself would be very perilous.

In the ongoing chaos Rad managed to set the spider on fire, while Winslow successfully defended him and avoided the spider's relentless assault. Alas, Ariad accidentally shot the fighter in the back, nearly killing him.

Gon'd'elf's quick tactical suggestion ensured that Ariad and Ehrman take the front rank, switching with wounded Winslow and fragile Rad. The monstrous spider jubilantly dove in Ehrman, downing him with shocking ease.

It did not get another chance, for Rad took it down with a shoot between its many eyes. The spider twitched, stumbled, and finally, fell over... completely blocking the corridor.

The ladders came into play, allowing adventurers to enter into the room one by one. Deter was the first, followed by Rad and Winslow. Gon'd'elf tended to Ehrman, for he noticed the man was still breathing.

The room was full of debris composed of broken wood, torn clothing, and skeletal remains of small critters. What little web was left held three cocoons. Rad watched in confusion as Deter ran to cut each one open.

A desiccated diseased corpse fell out of first one. Second one revealed a robbed corpse with nice looking backpack. Deter respectfully ransacked it, finding a spellbook, some coin, and golden statue of a bear. Third, final, cocoon, took him by surprise.

Perhaps it was greed, perhaps it was tiredness, perhaps it was the awkward position of the cocoon itself. Whatever it was, a desiccated leper fell straight on Deter, pinning him down to the ground. Their lips nearly touched in the process. The mage quickly threw corpse to the side, scuttling up as fast as he could.

“Thank you! Oh, thank you so much! We will leave your cellar as soon as possible. Could I please ask you for one more favour? Could you move the spider out of the way? Some of us are in a quite a poor shape, and any physical exertion might kill us.”

“I want to milk it.” was Deter's response. He took out an empty vial, and starter massaging the giant spider's corpse. When he found what he believed to be glands, he squeezed, until few tiny drops formed on the mandibles. Lo and behold, he managed to capture one.

Unhappy with the quantity, he asked others to help him chop up the corpse, so he can continue working on it in their headquarters.

“Oh no! He is here! The albino hunter is here! Run! Run!” the leper was long gone into the dark tunnel. Amanda, Deter, Gon'd'elf and his retinue bravely retreated, while Winslow and Rad covered themselves with one of the open cocoons.

A massive albino crocodile emerged from the sewer trench. Poor Hamnet never stood a chance. He looked in confusion as men he looked up to scattered in different directions, without telling him what to do.

The crocodile bit him diagonally, crushing his collarbone in the process, and then dragged him down into the sewage. And then they disappeared into the darkness.

It took our courageous adventurers half an hour to gather enough courage to check if the albino hunter is gone. Indeed it was. Unwilling to spend too much time in the sewers, Deter had to settle for “just” chopping off the giant spider's head. And so they marched back home...

A little bit over two hours later, they saw the light of day once more.

Deter Darker spent the next five days dissecting the giant spider's head using two spoons. His hopes of extracting any venom were obliterated by woefully incorrect assumptions that the process is akin to milking a cow.

Player Session Reports

• Deter's diary entry
• Winslow's diary entry

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Comments

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Winslow	Fighter level 2	A dirty warrior reeking of urine, body odours, and rotten wood.
Dingbatt Barett	Thief level 2	Ginger, skinny, and scrawny copy of Johnny Depp; speaks like a moron.
Rad	Thief level 1	A young, short and malnourished rogue.
Basso	Halfling level 1	A stable boy whom got tired of shovelling horse shit.
Gon'd'elf	Elf level 1	“Surely magnificent, am I not?” is his favourite opener. Works every time, 40% of the time.
Amanda Hugencuise	Thief level 3	A new girl in town, claiming to be foreign exchange student, up for some “exciting missions” and enjoying the local cuisine.

Winslow's and Deter's reports linked at the end of the post.

Meadowlark 3th–9th

Having returned to Antil without their protectee, Sir Fondleroy, but with his purse containing ten shiny pearls, the party was ready to move on with their ambitious plans—world domination.

Deter, now a chunk of barely living flesh, has been left in the capable hands of the Shang Ta healers. Winslow even threw in some extra coin for the Windgod's blessings.

Establishing a mercenary company was determined as a first step towards the world domination. Brother Kallahan and Winslow spent a week gathering information on how exactly to do that. It turns out all one needs is some coin, a “headquarters,” and a name.

They also learned that Antil is politically aligned with the City State of the Invincible Overlord. The Overlord pays good money to Antilian mercenary companies.

The rumour has it that Overlord's grip of Altanis has been severely weakened by the defeat he suffered few months ago. Although he personally led his Vasthost in the march on Viridistan, the Green Emperor's armies routed him.

Now Zothay, the largest port in Altanis, has fallen into the hands of Skandik and hobgoblin armies, an unholy alliance forged in the depths of cold north. Old South Road is in great peril.

Measly politics aside, the most interesting piece of information was about the deed for an abandoned warehouse on the docks that will go up for auction on Meadowlark 10th. It would've sold for 30 000 gold pieces, or more in its heyday.

Rad spent his days paying off old debts and creating new ones. Young thief managed to rack up a debt of 500 gold coin. Alas, he had to pay back interest as well, totalling his repayment up to 550 gold coin. Luckily for him, he got to keep all his extremities.

Then he decided to go to the Friend's Arms for a hearty meal; a place he usually couldn't afford to visit. Indeed, at first he was almost kicked out, but was admitted after flashing his newly filled coin purse. He ordered the house's biggest pheasant with a side of vegetables. After eating nothing but terrible rations for weeks, he scarfed it down in a beast like display helping him forget his loss of 50 gold that was eating away at him after it happened.

With full belly and heavy purse, young Rad decided to gamble.

Seven Vultures was a known place for knaves to throw dice, knives, and lives; perfect for what Rad was looking for. The place was filthy, and reeked of body odours and cheap alcohol. Somehow it was quite dark, even though it was broad daylight outside. Rad worked his way to a small round table with a scruffy looking man in dirty clothes.

“You put in the bet. No coin, no bet. No payment, no hand—the house chooses which. You throw three dice. Following results win...” the rough croupier explained. And so Rad started rolling, putting in maximum best of 20 gold per round.

“Almost! ... Would you like to roll again? Fortune favours the bold!”

“I’m gonna keep rolling till I win one!”

“That's the spirit! Drinks for this young man!”

Few questionable ladies gathered around their table and begun cracking inappropriate jokes. “Oh my, look how big his pocket is!” “Oh, but it is getting drier and drier... like a little plum!”

“Woo, won one!”

“OH MY!” two of the wenches start screaming, and one spills ale all over you. A gang of ugly looking bastards have gathered gathered around the table by now; everyone observing the commotion. “240 gold coin for the young knave!” the croupier announced loudly.

“Ey boy, pay a round for us, we've been cheering for you all the time!” and Rad paid up, and kept playing.

“Yes. Lady Luck smiles upon you... Do you dare bet higher?”

But the smile was gone.

“You'll get it all back! And more!”

“Come on, do it vulture!” the fat lady screamed as her tits fell out and she rolled off the table.

Annoyed with the crowd, Rad now threw in 60 gold coin for a bet.

“Wooo!” “Cocky!”

Another loss.

“Loser!” “Booooo!”

“SHUT UP!” Rad yelled as he threw in another 60 gold coins.

The crowd burst into uproarious laughter as the dice once more favoured the house.

Rad being pissed off at his luck failing places the last of his 108 gold “All or nothing!” and raises his hand in the air for applause.

Disappointed gasps and sighs came from the crowd.

“Ah, almost young vulture.”

The rogue got so mad he threw the dice on the floor and started stomping them. He was quickly “calmed” by the patrons, and luckily only his ego was bruised. After finishing his pint he realised he has no money left for a hovel he was staying at... So he slept a cold wet night on the street, his only comfort being having nothing on him worth stealing.

He spent the rest of his days bumming around with bottom-dwellers, gathering some intelligence in the process. Turns out beggars know a thing or two about gambling. Kelman's Rumble, an annual event by the mysterious Lord of the Kelman House is the place for serious gamblers. Those who attend never say a word! Invitees seem to be selected at random.

“The rumour has it Vorn's imbecile son gambled off his own sister in the last year's Rumble... Haven't seen her since.”

“Kelman's House servants are strange looking. I call them the Hollow Men, as they lack personality. And hair and skin color too I may add!”

Not only that, but Rad also heard about the same warehouse Winslow and Brother Kallahan learned of “I heard a that haunted warehouse will soon go for auction. Good luck to sorry gits who buy it!”

The party pooled their coin and prepared for the auction.

Meadowlark 10th, Spiritday

Amanda the scout surveyed the warehouse at dawn. It was an unremarkable two-story building with a humble dock attached to it. Most of the windows were boarded up or covered in dirt and grime.

A finely dressed woman, surrounded by six armed men wearing colours of the City Watch, was nearby as well. Amanda quickly found out the woman's name—Aina—and worked out a deal that would allow her party to pay the deposit and bring the rest of the coin within the hour of auction closing.

Indeed, our adventurers came to the auction in great number: Winslow, Dingbatt Barett, Rad, Basso, Gon'd'elf, and Amanda. They even brought along Ehrman and Ariad, two of their retainers.

“Welcome. The warehouse is sold as-is. No complaints, no returns. Immediate payment.”

As Winslow made his way to the front of the crowd, ready to bid on the party's behalf, Gon'd'elf scanned the mass for any signs of danger. It didn't take him long to notice three shady characters with poorly concealed weapons and ill-fitting armour.

“The starting price is...” Aina continued, shuffling through her papers “No, this can't be right. Oh well.” she stammered, and then cleaned her throat “The starting price is 728 gold pieces. Offers?”

Winslow immediately raised his hand and voice, signalling that he matches the opening bid.

“800!” came from the odd looking trio.

“850!” Winslow fired back.

By now Gon'd'elf and Amanda were closely watching the trio, and they could see them elbowing each other. Some aggressive motioning and whispering later, the loudest shouted “Nine hundred and eighty four gold coins!”

“One thousand and one hundred coin!” Winslow roared, throwing a mean stare their way. They reciprocated with a select choice of insults, some spit, and then promptly stormed off.

“Any other offers? No...? Sold to the hairy man, then...”

Aina handed party the keys once they've paid up—God King's tithe included—a total of 1 210 gold coins. “Clean this place up. It cannot remain at the docks in this state.”

Oh, how eager Rad was to just go in and turn the place upside down! The rest barely convinced him to take care of registering the company first. And thus was Hydra Company born.

“Hail Hydra!” the adventurer's could be heard, fist-bumping, as they were strolling back to their newly acquired, dilapidated, headquarters.

By the time they arrived, Rad was shaking with anticipation. He just grabbed the key from Winslow, and went straight in through the main doors. A trio of bells rung, announcing his entry.

Gon'd'elf, Amanda, Ehrman, and Ariad stayed out, and investigated attached docks and large wooden gates on what looked like a cargo hall. The elf could hear some murmuring coming from behind.

Rad, still impatient, made his way through several rooms, one emptier than the other. He did notice dusty footprints leading down the stairs. Dingbatt went straight for the wide wooden doors. They proved to be quite heavy, so he pushed them open with a loud bang.

A large room, some thirty by sixty feet, full of boxes and crates presented itself. At the far end was a group of angry men, armed with knives and clubs, whom seemed to be shouting at a wet, half-naked figure hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Curious as ever, Dingbatt the Bright came closer to inquire what is this all about. “This bastard here owes us some coin!” “Ya, he's been stealing from us!”

“Lies, all lies, you delusional scum!”

“A captain he called himself! And he stole from us!” and with those words, few of the angry men hit the captain with clubs.

“Oh, that's horrible!” Dingbatt was full of sympathy “How much did he steal?”

“Five hundred coin!”

“Horrible! How about we beat him up, and then you join us? We are hiring brave men like you!”

“Oh wow, that sounds amazing!”

“What? What?! What are you talking about! No, please, no!”

Alas, it was too late for the poor captain, for Dingbatt crushed his skull with a club he borrowed from one of the angry sailors. Then they cut the rope and let his corpse fall down to the shore beneath the warehouse.

Only now did Dingbatt realise that part of the warehouse was actually extending over the shoreline, and that this large trapdoor was used to load or unload cargo from smaller ships that would moor beneath.

“What the fuck is happening here? Who are all these people?” Winslow burst in through west doors, sword drawn.

“Ha!” Gon'd'elf swung the south doors wide open.

“Oh no!” “The guards are here!” “We are doomed!” the sailors yelled exasperated “It was all his idea!” they pointed to Dingbatt. Four jumped into the sea bellow.

After some back and forth, the party sternly asked them to leave, and so they did. Elf tried to charge them with some rent, but alas, his request did not find fertile soil.

Rad emerged from stairs that led down. “There are more squatters here than us! What is this! Did they check this place before selling them at all!”

It turns out that the cellar housed thirteen humans in a rather poor health. Lepers, they call them. Even worse, they are often killed on sight, so they have to hide in the Antil's sewers. They were forced to find another place because of the horrible beast that kicked them out. “Sewers, you say?” Winslow twisted his whiskers. “We will aid you, and in return you will act as our guides to the Underworld. You can stay here until then. Just don't come up.”

“How much are we going to charge them?” could be heard from one of the unnamed characters.

“Oh, thank you!” “Thank you!” cries of gratitude filled the damp cellar. “Please, whatever you do—do not open the coffer in the loft!”

Of course, that mean that the party promptly went to investigate the loft. There indeed was a coffin there, just beneath the window looking west. Locked steel doors, unlike any other in the warehouse, were of interest as well.

As the party carefully approached the coffin, they were spooked by an old lady coming from an adjacent room. “What are you doing here? Who are you? Why are you here? Where am I? Why am I here? Why is your place so dirty? Oooh, why don't you clean more often!” she seemed to progress from confused to all worked up because of the scattered mess. “Clean up, right now!” and with those words she dissipated in the air.

Winslow quickly retrieved some flowers and placed them by the coffin. “Let us know how can we place you to rest.” “Tarantis. That's where I was to be buried.” The plaque read Dorothea Burser.

Whilst this was happening, Amanda worked her way into the room behind steel doors. Oh, what marvels did it hide! An intricate dry fountain of entwining serpents, five delicate garden statues of exquisite make, and four breathtaking paintings.

And so did the Hydra Company begin.

Player Session Reports

• Winslow's diary entry

And Deter's portrait:

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Adventurers

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.

Sweetrain 19th, Fireday

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...

Sweetrain 20th, Spiritday

“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.

Meadowlark 1st, Airday

“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!”

Player Session Reports

• Winslow's diary entry

And Deter's portrait:

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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Comments

Adventurers

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.

Sweetrain 16th, Airday

“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.

Sweetrain 17th, Waterday

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:

• Brother Kallahan, leading Samlan and Balfour, will sneak up to west tower and spike the doors.
• Taaaz, Winslow, Rux, and Ariun will sneak up to east tower and spike the doors as well.
• Rad, Gon'd'elf and his retinue, will hide some two hundred feet away, with bows ready to rain hell on any opposition that might emerge.

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!”

Player Session Reports

• Taaaz's diary entry
• Winslow's diary entry

And Taaaz's illustration of the keep:

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Adventurers

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.

Sweetrain 14th, Fireday

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.

Sweetrain 15th, Spiritday

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?

Player Session Reports

• Taaaz's diary entry
• Bobins's diary entry

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Adventurers

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.

Sweetrain 9th, Fireday

“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.

Sweetrain 10th–12th

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.

Sweetrain 13th, Earthday

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?

Player Session Reports

• Kallahan's Painting:

• Remli's Haunting:

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Adventurers

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.

Flowerbloom 20th, Spiritday

“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.

Sweetrain 9th, Fireday

“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!”

Player Session Reports

• Taaaz's diary entry
• Kallahan's diary entry
• Gabriel's Painting:

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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