Attronarch's Athenaeum

Wilderlands

Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Thorm Dwarf Fighter level 4 / thief level 5 Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.
Ambros Human Cleric level 6 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove Human Thief level 6 A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little man with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.
Kho Rimbo Human Magic-user level 3 A knife throwing wizard extraordinaire. Covered in ritual knife scars. Cuts himself whilst casting. Prone to being sarcastic.

Sunstrong 15th, Spiritday

Adventurers roamed around the eight-sided chamber tilled with alternating obsidian and redstone slabs. An altar carved of black marble dominated the south side of the chamber. Subtle runes adorned its smooth surface.

Chamber had three egress points—doors to the north and west, and tunnel to the east. It was from the latter that the party had arrived from, crawling over damp, loose soil. Ignaeus and Thorm forced the west doors open.

A ten by ten chamber, nay an alcove, filled with damp soil. Loose ground was almost the same as the one in the tunnel to the east. Ignaeus stepped forth and vanished. Ambros exhaled and followed.

Other adventurers followed as well. Even Hazard, their torchboy, followed. Courage or cowardice? Either way, eight of them in total found themselves in a twenty by twenty chamber with low ceiling.

They stood on damp, loose soil. Walls and ceiling were bereft of anything interesting. Everything was completely featureless. A single alcove housing a blackened skull was the only noticeable thing.

Ignaeus investigated the alcove and skull while others sought secret passageways and openings. Ambros, standing in the center, holding his Gold Gavel of Justice, observed how everyone sank a bit into the ground. All the commotion had moved the soil.

Minutes turned into turns as adventurers desperately tried to figure out how to escape their predicament. Foxglove remembered a lyre he had recovered from the hands of a dead man earlier today. He took it out and played a discordant tune.

Skull flashed with emerald green light. Its eyes sparked green as the lyre played. Music turned into words, whispered effortlessly. Each person heard the words speak in their native tongue.

“Your presence here constitutes your agreement to the Tests. Choose your measure: Test by Strife, or Test by Wit?”

“Wit!”

“Hey, wit hasn't served us well so far!”

But it was too late, for the lyre sang its next tune.

“Answer me this and free you shall be.

Think well, for the wrong answer means you remain here with me.

A tormented soul sought to escape the House of Pain but was not privy to the password.

The spirit observed a few other souls who managed to escape.

When the first soul knocked to be let out, the door-wight hissed “twelve,” the soul answered, “six.”

When the second soul knocked, the door-wight spit, “six,” the soul answered, “three.”

The tormented soul saw a pattern, so it approached the exit and knocked to be let out.

The door-wight coughed, “ten,” the poor soul answered, “five.”

It was unable to escape the House of Pain.

Why?”

Adventurers sat in silence for the first half an hour.

They were stupefied.

Some of them were cursing algebra.

But they did not allow desperation to take them over.

They ruminated.

They calculated.

They discussed.

And then Foxglove got it.

And then they discussed how to answer.

For presenting the answer in the wrong way might mean certain doom.

And Foxglove played the lyre and spoke thus:

“Three. The word six has three letters in it.”

And flashed as tune screamed BAH!

Soil vomited a leather bag.

Adventures looked at it cautiously.

And then they found themselves stuffed in a ten by ten chamber.

They jumped out with further delay and slammed the doors shut.

Alive and kicking, they kicked down north doors, marched through long corridor with damaged statues, and reach the terminus with doors on west, north, and east walls.

Heading east led them to dead end with foul monster that fled Ambros's divinity—a spider-like abomination capable of turning incorporeal. Chief Justice turned it once again. Brave adventurers boxed it in, preventing it to escape.

Thorm, wielding a magical blade, cut it down. That did take some time though. Tikatu, courageous pygmy and door blocker, was bitten several times. Hellish insect pumped him full with venom. But little pygmy did not give in and crawled to safety.

Thorm cut off the creature's appendages and finished it by thrusting the sword through its deformed elven head. Kho Rimbo orchestrated butchering that followed. He was fully intent of bringing as much of this creature as possible to his Master, Old Crus.

“Come on, lets not go out just yet. We are all healthy and strong. Let's check just one more room!”

Thorm the Adventurer convinced others to push on.

Lords of Luck reward guts with glory.

Adventurers moved through two chambers to the west. Then they followed the corridor south, into a wider corridor. Peeking down the open archway revealed little except that there was a rather long passageway ahead of them. Two opening emanated sickly green light, now quite familiar to the party.

“Let's check those doors we passed.”

Forcing them open revealed an empty chambers, some twenty by thirty feet. South doors were hanging ajar. Adventurers approached, with Thorm at the lead.

His keen senses kicked in, and he saw shadows moving. He jumped to his right, barely dodging the exploding doors. Large, seven feet tall, featherless bipedal monstrosity with large sharp claws, and massive axe-like beak towered over the dwarf.

Ignaeus and Thorm wounded the animal. Elf wounded it once more, and then attacked with the flat side of the blade. He successfully subdued the creature—hoping that alive specimen would impress Crus. Then Thorm killed it by accident.

Another, even larger, animal jumped out of the chamber. This time Amari contributed too. But it was yet again Thorm whom had killed the beast. He slashed across, and then vertically, cutting its head in two neat halves.

Investigating the chamber revealed animals' nest with thirty five gold pieces, one hundred and thirty one silver pieces, four sealed crystal vials with thick copper brown liquid, and one bone ring.

Thorm put on the ring.

Kho Rimbo once again orchestrated the butchering. Packing various monster parts took some time, but was done nonetheless.

“Now, let's head back to Ironburg!”

Sunstrong 17th, Waterday

Adventurers arrived into the miners' thorp on the evening of Sunstrong 17th. There were less men than usual. Hog's Head Inn was empty. Ambros and Ignaeus looked at each other wearily.

Kho Rimbo was too consumed with his geas to care. He took all the rotting monster parts and carried them off to Old Crus, some half an hour of hiking from the thorp. Amari accompanied him.

This time they did not have to wait long for Old Crus to open the doors. Not because he got any faster, but because his current student, Heinrik, opened them. Conversation was as slow and as miserly as usual.

Kho Rimbo boasted and boasted. Old Crus was very unimpressed. But he appreciated the monster parts greatly. At least the arachnid ones. Bird he did not care about—they are not Woelands natives, and therefore are of no interest to him.

“Am I free of the geas now?”

“What geas?”

“The geas you had put on me?”

“There was never any geas? That was all you?”

Kho Rimbo stood there, mute and dumbfound.

“Will... will you teach me other spells as we agreed?”

“Yes, of course. But you can always get more more monster parts if you wish.”

While Kho Rimbo was doing his thing with Old Crus, Ambros, Ignaeus, Foxglove, and Thorm were learning what was wrong in Ironburg.

Stroud Granger, the innkeeper, stammered:

“I-I-I would n-not like to insult you. B-but it all started with y-your friend Kho Rimbo. After he left Lord Kyle had miners rounded up. Then he ordered three of them to be brutally flogged.”

He gulped audibly before continuing:

“Including Darvin the Foreman, who is most outspoken about miserable work conditions. Following that, the miners have holed up in the mines and are boycotting further work. They refuse to return to Ironburg until the drunk tyrant has been removed.”

He sobbed audibly:

“There is no one drinking anymore. No one eating. You are my only customers. My best customers! Will you please stay here!”

Ambros leaned back in his chair. Gold Gavel of Justice was in his hands. “Kho. Rimbo. Kho. Rimbo.” he uttered, gazing into the distance.

How will adventurers help now? Should they even help?

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This was an impromptu session with my brother, father, and partner. Try to guess who played which character.

Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Dita Afrodita Human Cleric level 1 Lover of everything intellectual.
Holy Biggus Dongus I Human Cleric level 1 Worshiper of the Dong.
Holy Biggus Dongus II Human Fighter level 1 Also worshiper of the Dong.
Bobby I Human Fighter level 1 A fighter.
Bobby II Human Magic-User level 1 Thrown out of the academy due to his immense wisdom. Relative of Bobby I.
Bobby III Human Magic-User level 1 Thrown out of the academy due to his massive bulk. Friend of Bobby II.

Summer of year 4435 according to the Balozkinar’s Corrected Commoners’ Calendar

“Screw this, let's go drinking in the village.”

Three adventurers—cleric Dita Afrodita, cleric Holy Biggus Dongus, and magic-user Bobby—immediately abandoned dungeon in front of them, judging the place to be too dangerous.

Therefore they headed back to Ahyf, a fishing village overlooking the Winedark sea. There they partied and wasted their coin for days.

Dita entertained the villagers, Bobby was telling everyone what is real and what is not, and Biggus Dongus was asking around for other places of interest.

Wise Bobby collected pine cones and filled them with resin. Then he asked Dita to bless them. These, he was sure, would be perfect firebombs.

Weighing their options, the trio decided to return to the dungeon overlooking the sea. It sounded way better than going up the Ghinarian Hills swarming with cannibal barbarians flaying passerbys.

The dungeon was in fact an old fort carved into the side of the cliff. A narrow ledge, barely sufficient for one person, led to the entrance, an opening in the cave. The tunnel then led to a bridge over the river spilling into the sea, which connected the tunnel with the stone dock.

Stone platform stretched for some hundred yards. Stone wall was to the right, while three lower platforms were to the left. Rubble and debris covered the pathway.

Adventurers could see three ancient rowboats attached to each of the three piers. Visually inspecting them confirmed that all were in a rather poor shape. There was an interesting chest in the middle boat.

While the adventurers dreamt of treasure, half a dozen stirges surprised them from above. The fight was brutal. Monsters dive bombed with ferocity.

Dongus swatted one off Dita, opting to ignore the one sucking him dry.

“Forget the pine cones! Get them off me!” he yelled to Bobby. Alas, the magic-user was preoccupied with his “magical” cones. Another stirge rammed Dongus, driving its proboscis through his soft neck. The cleric was dead.

Dita crushed stirge after stirge. She also crushed Dongus's head, missing the monster on him. By the time she was finished there was no one and nothing breathing but her.

Overtaken by grief she left the dungeon, travelled to Ahyf, and then travelled to Hara. She hoped to gain audience with the Great Wizard-King Klekess Racoba, so she could ask him to bring her two friends back to life.

Alas, that did not go as she had hoped. So she recruited two new adventurers instead: Holy Biggus Dongus II and Bobby II. Together they travelled to Ahyf and prepared for the dungeon expedition.

They spent weeks following Bobby's plan to create three resin filled strawmen. Bobby II argued that burning them would surely keep the stirges away.

Dungeon was where they left it. Corpses were gone. Adventurers left a strawman on each pier. Then they focused on the pier with rowboat that housed a single chest.

Dongus II was smart. Instead of going into rotten boat he threw the rope around the chest and pulled it out. Boat creaked as it snapped and capsized, and eventually sunk.

Opening the chest revealed a thousand or so silver pieces, a silver necklace, and a dagger with pale bluish glow.

The party discussed what to do next for so long that they were surprised by four lizardmen jumping out of the water. Two jumped at the far side of the pier, while other two jumped out quite close to Dongus II and Dita.

Bobby II was promptly driven down and stabbed to death. Dita and Dongus smashed their opposition, cutting them down and crushing their limbs. They collected the treasure and left for Ahyf.

Back in the village they recruited Bobby III, another magic-user. This one was a fan of Magic Missile. No pine cone nor resin fetish.

Dita led the refreshed party back to the dungeon. This time they ignored the piers and explored rest of the dock.

At the far end was a twenty feet wide gate with rusty portcullis. Iron grates were rusted, locking the portcullis hanging some three feet off the ground.

In the center of the dock was another portal, albeit with no obvious gates. It was more like a twenty feet wide and tall alcove with flame motifs. Bobby III carried one of the strawmen into the alcove and then set it on fire. Nothing happened. Except smoke.

The trio reconvened by the rusted portcullis.

A large domed hall sprawled beyond the gates. A spiral of mystic runes and scrawls dominated the floor. Three corpses laid on the floor, their garments rotted beyond recognition.

Bobby III cast his single Magic Missile at one of the corpses. It turned over from the force, but otherwise remained dormant.

Dongus II the cowboy lassoed the corpses closest to him and then dragged it towards the portcullis. Corpse twitched and rose. Veteran pulled on the rope, pinning the undead to the iron grates. Dita and Bobby III quickly dispatched of the corpse by smashing and stabbing it.

Dongus repeated the process on the second corpse. Adventurers' tactic worked brilliantly once again. Third corpse was a different story. This one was powerful enough to pull itself free from the mighty thews of Holy Biggus Dongus II. It ducked under the grates, and lunged in savage assault.

Dita blocked, but was clawed. She found it difficult to move, and was soon entirely immobile. Dongus did not fare much better. It was Bobby III and his glowing dagger that saved the day. He drove it into the neck of vile undead. Then he touched his paralysed allies with magic dagger, silver necklace, and other items from the backpack. Nothing got them to move. So he dragged both to the dungeon entrance.

An hour or so later both Dita and Dongus regained control of their bodies. Adventurers called it a day and returned to Ahyf.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Thorm Dwarf Fighter level 4 / thief level 5 Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.
Ambros Human Cleric level 6 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove Human Thief level 6 A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.
Kho Rimbo Human Magic-user level 3 A knife throwing wizard extraordinaire. Covered in ritual knife scars. Cuts himself whilst casting. Prone to being sarcastic.

Sunstrong 13th, Earthday

“What do you mean?”

Rall Kyle, a minor noble in charge of Ironburg, squirmed in his chair. Just minutes ago he was yelling at one of his servants for not letting in Kho Rimbo sooner. But now he was growing suspicious.

“I was waiting for you to hear about latest news. How could I inform you? Is this... is this another test?”

Rall squinted at Kho Rimbo quizzically. Foxglove and Thorm sat in silence. They were in Rall's house, a two-story building with six rooms, situated some twenty minutes east of the village.

Kho Rimbo acted before Rall had time to think.

“That's about right! You are always being tested! RAKOBA HAS HIS EYES EVERYWHERE! I AM HIS EYES! HE KNOWS ALL! NOW, SPILL YOUR GUTS!”

Rall Kyle began sweating profusely. Adventurers' intimidating ruse worked.

He stammered and stuttered, trying to explain how he did his part of the bargain, but mining is getting harder and harder. Miners are lazy and incompetent and always ask for rest and wages. He was hoping that orc miners Racoba had promised would arrive any day now.

“D-D-Darvin. He is the foreman. He is guilty for the delay!”

“Fix this! I will be watching! Wizard-King Racoba will be watching!”

Satisfied with what they have learned, the adventurers left Rall to marinate in fear and anxiety while they headed back to Ironburg. There they decided that it would be most opportune to work on Kho Rimbo's geas—which the conjurer accept in exchange for tutelage by Old Crus, and experienced wizard. All he had to was bring some monster parts from Woelands.

Ignaeus and Ambros knew the closest entrance into the Wilderlands' underbelly—the stone circle atop the Midnight Goddess Hills. A party of seven adventurers and one porter—young Hazard—set out for the hills.

Sunstrong 15th, Spiritday

Sun was brutal. Heat was immense. Adventurers did not care, for they marched on. They reached their destination around noon. Descending down long, spiral stairs, worn by time, chilled everyone down.

This dungeon was familiar to Ignaeus, Foxglove, and Ambros, whom had been here several seasons ago. This was the place where Tagoler of the Castle of the Wode lost a patrol of rangers. A place where abominable spider-men walk about. A place where abyssal monstrosities weave pale green webs that paralyse men, and melt flesh.

Entry chamber was filled with azure blue haze, preventing anyone from seeing further than their own palm. The elf remembered all the traps and thus warned others accordingly. It took adventurers two hours to navigate this humble chamber and figure out how to open doors with a pit trap in front of them. But they succeeded.

Once they were in the long, dark corridor, they opted to head east for some hundred feet. The corridor bent south and then west. They stopped to inspect broken doors through which pale green light emanated. Empty.

Moving on, the party followed the bending corridor, until they reached a sixty feet long stretch with three doors on the west side. Behind first doors was an empty room. Behind second doors was a room with tattered greenish webs. Third doors revealed a chamber filled with intact webs pulsating with sickly green hue.

Thorm took a peek, pushing in the arm he was holding the torch with. A disgusting spider-like monstrosity surprised him from above, but failed to bite him. The dwarf slammed the doors shut. Adventurers spent some time planning how to overcome this threat. Military oil was the solution everyone agreed upon.

One of the adventurers pulled the doors wide open. Thorm chucked in a flask of burning military oil. It splashed on strings of web. Amari, followed by few others, charged in from the adjoining room, the one that was behind second doors, only to be assaulted from above by the same monstrosity that tried to impregnate Thorm.

She got bit, and felt getting weaker by the round. Tikatu soon suffered the same fate. Adventurers were unable to strike the abomination for every time their weapon was about to connect the monster would simply become immaterial.

“Begone!” Ambros thundered, holding up his Golden Gavel of Justice. Abyssal spider-like creature hissed and fled through the webs. Carefully following, adventurers moved slowly through the webs, making sure they do not accidentally touch them.

There was an opening on the south side, an alcove, leading into three feet tall crawlspace. Ground was covered by damp soil. Foxglove and Ambros got down on all four and went it. The former spotted something glowing in the soil, some fifteen feet westwards.

Coming closer, the thief could see this was a hand harp of sorts. He tried to gently pull on it. As his reward two rotten arms burst from the loose soil and grabbed him around the neck, choking him. Luckily, Ambros was right next to him. The arms disintegrated into dust as soon as the cleric began chanting the holy words.

Foxglove played with the harp a bit, but produced nothing but disturbing and discordant tunes. He tucked it into his backpack and continue crawling forward, into an octagonal chamber.

This eight-sided chamber was tilled with alternating obsidian and redstone slabs. Slanted ceiling rose from north to south, from eight feet around the walls to reaching twenty feet high on the south side. Beneath the highest point an altar carved of black marble sat, with subtle runes carved upon its smooth surface.

Adventurers spread out to investigate the chamber and altar.

What will they learn? And will Kho Rimbo find something to bring back to Old Crus? Or will he disappoint him once more?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Heinrik Human Magic-user level 1 Muscular mage with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Ambros Human Cleric level 6 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 5 / magic-user level 4 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove Human Thief level 6 A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.
Kho Rimbo Human Magic-user level 3 A knife throwing wizard extraordinaire. Covered in ritual knife scars. Cuts himself whilst casting. Prone to being sarcastic.

Sunstrong 5th, Spiritday

Sun beat down on Ghinarian Hills with no mercy. Not a trace of clouds to offer some shade or protection. Seven adventurers—Alaric, Ambros, Andvar, Heinrik, Ignaeus, Seren, and Tikatu—spent a week hiding away in a smelly ogre lair they had cleaned up.

During that time Alaric and Seren scouted Midway, confirming that it too was conquered by Racoba's forces. Tikatu was still recoiling from his wounds. A decision was made. The party would travel close to Ahyf. Then all but Heinrik would find a spot by the coast to hide.

Heinrik would go alone, with nothing but staff and few well hidden gold pieces, to the village, check in on Amari, Somniel, and Mepheus, and finally, hire a sailing ship to take them to Ironburg.

That was the plan.

Here is how it went.

Enroute to the village Heinrik was stopped by a dozen brigands. They were cheerful and offered him to “escort” him to Ahyf in exchange for some coin. Heinrik was delighted to pay them seven gold pieces. They indeed delivered on their promise, which was easy since the village was literally within sight, less than half an hour of walking away.

Magic-User had no problem with the guards at the entrance. “We already took care of him!” patrol leader winked to the guards. The latter just waved them away, cart half-full of weapons and trinkets behind them.

After confirming that Mepheus, Somniel, and Amari were fine, he negotiated with three fishermen with sizeable coaster to take him to Ironburg, forty leagues upriver. He agreed to pay them thirty gold pieces if they set out tomorrow morning.

Sunstrong 6th, Airday

Amari, now fully recovered, and Mepheus, joined Heinrik on the boat. They set out before dawn, rowing along the coast to pick up Ambros, Ignaeus, and Seren whom were hiding an hour or so away from Ahyf.

Then they sailed west, to the confluence of mighty rivers Cedarwade and Farhills. These are wide rivers, and clear day provided good visibility. Thus, they sailed north, towards Ironburg.

As they approached Hara they could see a man waving a flag at them, pointing to the harbour.

“What shall we do?” asked the fisherman “They want us to enter.”

“Just sail around them. As close to the east bank as possible.” instructed Ambros.

The coaster was soon peppered with arrows, kill two out of the three fishermen. The surviving one cursed the adventurers all the way to Ironburg. Navigating a coast with one third of the crew was an insane undertaking, but through sheer luck they made it in one piece.

“Where will I find seamen in this godforsaken place?!” the fisherman lamented as he wiped away the tears with a purse filled with gold pieces.

Ambros went straight to the Hog's Head Inn and rented out all the rooms. This will be the adventurers base of operations for the time being. Or,at least, so they planned.

Sunstrong 7th, Waterday

Adventurers caught up with Kho Rimbo, Foxglove, and Thorm, whom were each on their own mission in Ironburg for some time now.

“Heinrik, I am telling you, you need to meet Old Crus. He is old and slow, but great mentor. Amazing library too!”

Heinrik had lost his spellbook, and he wanted to write himself a new one. But that was nigh impossible without source material and appropriate supplies. Prospect of Old Crus sounded great.

And so, whilst others shopped and explored the hamlet, Kho Rimbo, Heinrik, and Ignaeus went to visit the Old Crus's tower.

As it goes, they had to wait nearly half an hour before the grumpy wizard opened the doors. He looked at Kho Rimbo. Then at Ignaeus. Then at Heinrik. Then at Kho Rimbo again. Then elf. Then muscle mage.

Kho Rimbo talked, but old Crus did not listen. Instead he asked:

“Am I Lysander?”

Kho Rimbo was dumbfound.

“Sorry, what?”

Old Crus leaned in and enunciated:

“Am-I-Lysander?”

“Sorry, I do not understand!”

Old Crus widened his eyes and spelled it out:

“A-m I L-y-s-a-n-d-e-r?”

Kho Rimbo cried out:

“I am sorry, is that a-”

Old Crus slammed the doors shut, almost hitting the scarred man in the face.

“Well, that went great.”

“I'll knock again!”

“What did you do to him to piss him off so much?” Heinrik inquired.

The doors swung open once more.

Kho Rimbo talked about Klekess Racoba, and how he is out to get all the wizards, and how he needs help so he can get monster parts from Woelands, and he begged and begged and begged until Old Crus relented.

Old wizard leaned on his gnarly staff and squinted at Heinrik, sizing him up. “Well, I never mentored an imbecile. I guess I could try it as a fun pastime.” He motioned the muscle mage to come in. Then he turned to Kho Rimbo, eyes of attack. “Enough groveling! Do you take me for a fool! You evaded and dodged your geas for long enough. This elf next to you knows how to enter Woelands! Do not come back empty handed!”

“No, really, Kho Rimbo, I must know what you did to the old man? Why does he hate you so much?” Heinrik whispered to Kho Rimbo as he entered Crus's tower.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Deigos Human Thief level 3 Oily dark hair, slightly mustached, youthful expression, feels the call of revolution.
Alaric Human Paladin level 3 Big, doe eyed country boy with wavy blond hair and willingness to do the right thing. Paladin of Tyr.
Ambros Human Cleric level 6 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 5 / magic-user level 4 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Andvar Dwarf Fighter level 2 / thief level 2 A standout amongst dwarves with clean shaven chin and two large braids hangings from the sides. A scruffy looking redhead.

Warmshade 16th, Airday

Adventurers spent the day asking around in Ketche. They hadn't learned much, for this is a secluded fishing village which is rarely visited by civilised folk from Hara. Queen was nowhere to be seen, and Ambros did not feel compelled to follow her command anymore. Deigos, a thief full of dreams joined the party. Tikatu convinced a team of fishermen to transport them to Ahyf.

Warmshade 17th, Waterday

Adventurers sailed out of the Vigil Sound bay and towards Ahyf. The fishermen dropped them off some two leagues west of the village, per adventurers' request.

Seren and Tikatu found a nice wooded gully where the party could sequester to and rest. It was evening and adventurers decided it'd be best to stay out of Ahyf before less known adventurers scout it out. Tikatu and Deigos volunteered to do so.

They reached Ahyf in two hours of brisk walk.

“No weapons in Ahyf. King's orders.” They were stopped by three armed brigands. Nearby cart had a small pile of weapons in it. Duo gave up theirs. As they walked towards the village they could see brigands take Deigos's knife.

They quickly learned that a throng of brigands led by a man named Bandles marched into Ahyf just three days ago. Bandles seized control as the new Sheriff appointed by the Wizard-King Klekless Racoba. At that time a manacled man dressed in a wizardy robe, with a bruised face and scab-covered palms, was forced to read the proclamation:

“Peoples of Hara, rejoice! The reign of tyrannical Red Bitch has come to an end! His Regal Magnificence, Majestic Munificence, Wizard-King Racoba, has liberated Hara and all of its lands! A new era of prosperity is about to begin!

People of Ahyf, rejoice! You too shall enjoy protection from Hara, effective immediately! You shall fear no more! You shall suffer no more! You too shall prosper!

His Regal Magnificence, Majestic Munificence, Wizard-King Racoba, has great plans for Our Kingdom. Therefore, all men of talent, foresight, and gumption are invited to Hara and seek employment at the Court.

Gifted and loyal men will be greatly rewarded, for few are as generous as His Regal Magnificence, Majestic Munificence, Wizard-King Racoba!

What greater evidence of his generosity than Royal Pardons for Chief Crook Ambros, Incompetent Castellan Marlon, Selfish Mavis, and number of others who have actively worked against the wellbeing of peoples?!

Peoples of Hara, rejoice! People of Ahyf, rejoice!”

All Altanians residing in Ahyf were captured, enslaved, and sent to Hara. Bounties for Earani Cor, alive Altanian men, dead Altanian men, and dead Altanian women, were hammered by the docks and on the gates of Elders' house. They are 18 000 gold pieces, 20 gold pieces, 10 gold pieces, and 50 gold pieces respectively.

Tikatu and Deigos also learned that everyone residing at the Belching Vicar tavern and Swordsman's Citadel were kicked out so Sheriff's men can stay there. This was where their injured friends Somniel, Amari, and Drokh were recovering.

Camus, cleric of Thoth, and a friend of Ambros, took the injured adventurers in. They are currently resting at his temple, while Mepheus is helping the cleric with daily tasks. Two brigands charged Tikatu and Deigos an “entry donation.”

“Are you happy with this turn of events?” Tikatu asked the cleric.

“Tyrants come and go. People are forever.” the man shrugged.

The duo snuck out and sought shelter in one of the stables at the edge of the village. They met Ivan the Slow, who happily welcomed new friends. They slept in hay with few of the horses. Ivan was happy.

Warmshade 18th, Earthday

Deigos and Tikatu left with first rays of sun. That made Ivan sad, and he waved them away with a tear in his eye. People are rarely kind to Ivan, so these two made an impression on him.

“Can we have our weapons back now?”

“What weapons?”

Tikatu looked at the cart behind the brigands. His spear was on top of the pile.

“That weapon, right over there.”

“I don't remember taking any weapons away from you. Do you?” one brigand asked the other.

“No, I don't. You must be confused little man!”

“I rolled that spear between my ass cheeks. It is rolled in my shit.”

“Bugger off, or we will drive something up yer ass!”

Tikatu and Deigos sulked off.

“Next time hide that dagger of yours better.”

They reached the wooded gully in some two hours of walking. There the party discussed what to do next. Ambros would surely be recognised wherever he appears. They wondered where the Queen went and what is she up to. There were fierce discussions about loyalty. Finally, the adventurers decided to appropriate an ogres' lair midway between Midway and Ahyf, on the northern side of Ghinarian Hills.

Adventurers travelled through the woods, avoiding the trail, fearing they might run into one of Racoba's patrols. Deigos daydreamed about revolution that is to befall this usurper Racoba. His dreams were shattered as he was shredded to death by fourteen forearm-sized iron spikes.

Other adventurers looked in horror as four huge, lion-bodied monstrosities with grinning man-like faces, horns, dragon wings, and tails full of iron spikes hovered above them. Two of them descended on Deigos, slurping his remains. Other two gave chase to fleeing adventurers. Tikatu ran into some brambles and buried himself like a little shit-stained bunny he is.

Everybody fled in their own direction, panting and sprinting as fast as they could. They eventually lost sight of the pursing beasts. After catching a breath, they proceeded with their plan.

“Brigands can't be worse than these beasts! Let's follow the trail!”

Indeed, they reached the ogres' lair by evening. There they met a serious looking dwarf called Andvar. He was delighted to join this band of adventurers. What a good day it was to delve into a lair!

Ignaeus cast Mirror Image, and the party descended. They confirmed that all the chambers were still empty. Then they explored west side of the cave, where they found owlbear faeces last time. They rushed on, waking up one owlbear. The beast, although not taken by surprise, was savaged by Ignaeus and Andvar. The latter killed the monster by driving his spear right through the owlbear's skull.

Owlbears' nest was a domed natural cave. Animal and humanoid remains were neatly tucked in the southern portion of the cave. Searching them revealed silver anklet adorned with jade fragments and a copper chain necklace with topaz gem.

An assortment of soiled furs, rugs, and carpets, covered with several thousand copper pieces, dominated center of the cave. Area indicated that at least three owlbears could fit on it.

The party spent hours arguing what to do next. Ignaeus decided to walk back to the entrance and watch guard. This paid off, for he had seen an absolutely massive owlbear slumber into the tunnel. Elf ran back to the nest and informed others of the sighting. They covered their light sources and prepared an ambush.

Owlbear cried out in pain as it sniffed the smaller, dead of its kind. Adventurers flashed it by uncovering the light source. The beast barreled at them, and vicious fight broke out. Andvar hit the beast, while the beast savaged Ignaeus. Elf retreated out of combat to take a sip of healing juice.

Beast turned its attention to the little bunny. It clawed him brutally, and then almost snapped him in half with its powerful beak. Ambros hit the beast as it threw Tikatu to the other side of the cave. Ignaeus rejoined the fight, and struck true, only to be struck in return.

Ambros made himself a bigger target, allowing Ignaeus to flee once again. He was rewarded by two mighty slaps. Andvar used the opportunity to hop on the beast, grabbing its fur with his right hand. Once on top he held on with his legs, whilst holding the spear with both hands. Then he drove the spear down with all his might, penetrating the owlbear's left eye.

The beast roared, and tumbled over. It twitched thrice, and then exhaled its last breath. Ambros rushed over to check on Tikatu. He flipped the shredded pygmy over. Druid was still alive!

Tikatu watched Ambros in the eyes and uttered painfully:

“A few weeks ago we had a keep, a townhouse, and a pile of cash. Now we have a cave that smells of ogres armpits and owlbear shit. But it is our cave.”

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Heinrik Human Magic-User level 1 Muscular mage with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Ambros Human Cleric level 6 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 5 / magic-user level 4 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Drokh Human Monk level 2 A tall, lean human monk with piercing eyes, weathered skin, and a warrior’s poise—calm and charismatic, he speaks with purpose and strikes with precision, wielding spear, bow, and blade.
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.
Seren Human Ranger level 1 Beardless and blinkless ranger.
Alaric Human Paladin level 3 Big, doe eyed country boy with wavy blond hair and willingness to do the right thing. Paladin of Tyr.

Warmshade 8th, Earthday

After two days of panicked retreat from Ghinarian Hills, Ambros, Tikatu, Decarili, Heinrik, Seren, Drokh, and Amari reached Ahyf, a fishing village just north of the hills. There Somniel was recovering from his injuries, while Ignaeus and Mepheus were waiting for the adventurers. Decarili bid his farewell and left for Hara.

Messenger sent by Marlon informed Ambros of latest grim developments. Klekless Racobas and his army have conquered all the settlements surrounding Hara. Mounted scouts led by Jace discovered their advance and reported a force of approximately two hundred beastmen and three hundred brigands.

Racoba's split his vasthrong into five throngs and attacked from three directions. Marlon led a squadron of heavy horsemen in a preemptive attack alongside River Farhills. He successfully stopped two throngs approaching from the north-west, but lost a third of his squadron. He was also wounded in duel with Racoba's Chaos Champion.

“Marlon sent me to Ahyf to wait for your return and inform you about these developments. I left Hara as Racoba's vasthrong approached Hara.”

Ambros and adventurers spent a day planning and preparing for their return to Hara. They hired three fishermen to take them to Hara via river. This, they theorised, would allow them to move faster.

Warmshade 10th, Spiritday

Ambros, Ignaeus, Alaric, Seren, Heinrik, and Tikatu set out by boat with first rays of sun. They sailed from Ahyf until the reached an estuary where mighty rivers Farhills and Cedarwade converge and flow into the sea. Fishermen then dropped sail and began rowing upriver, towards Hara. It was a bright sunny day, hot and windless.

Around morning they could see a large dark cloud in the distance. It was obvious to Tikatu, a druid, that this was no natural phenomenon. Cloud was roughly above the area where Hara is. They reached Hara by evening.

Towers and walls were unmanned. A throng of beastmen—gnolls, orcs, hobgoblins, ogres—were pilling the dead outside the walls on little mounds. Bestmen and brigands argued and yelled, but no significant fighting transpired.

Nobody cared about a fishing boat rowing into Hara. Passing between two towers flanking the river bank and Queen's Isle, revealed a sad sight. Brigands in Hara were rounding up peasants and survivors in what once was the main square.

Most of Hara had burned down to the ground just weeks ago. There was little but walls and few foundations of stone buildings. A ten foot tall pile of armoured corpses was in front of Temple of Forseti. Arlon's severed head was on top of it.

Adventurers commanded the fishermen to take the boat around, and row to the east side of the river. There they disembarked and allowed fishermen to return to Ahyf.

Hara had fallen.

Warmshade 11th, Airday

Victor's drunken singing and debauchery kept the adventurers awake. In the morning Ambros communed with Forseti, asking him three questions.

“Is the Queen still alive and free?”

“Yes.”

“Is Klekless Racoba in the city?”

“No, he fears Earani Cor.”

“Is there a secret tunnel leading into Hara?”

“Yes, there is a long passage through Woelands, connecting Castle of the Wode with Hara.”

Adventurers discussed what to do next throughout the morning. They heard rusted trumpets blare around noon. Around that time men began appearing on the Hara's towers and walls. They put up flags depicting bull head with two thunders on its forehead. Very similar to the usual flags and banners that adorned Hara's walls.

There was unenthusiastic cheering and chanting around evening. That was followed by some sudden yelling and roaring. As a result, cheering and chanting sounded much more enthusiastic. As far as the adventurers could see, the beastmen were not allowed into the city, only brigands.

Chanting sounded like “RA! KOH! BAH! RA! KOH! BAH!” but it was difficult to make out from the drums and trumpets.

“This is it.” Tikatu said “The Queen was captured and executed. Racoba came into the city. There is nothing for us here left. Let's go.”

“Forseti said she is still alive and free.”

“But that was in the morning. Now is evening.”

“I see.”

Party decided to go to the Castle of the Wode and assess the situation there.

Warmshade 12th, Waterday

“Father Ambros!” a dozen of survivors from Hara were rejoiced to see Ambros alive. They were all wounded and exhausted. They briefly informed Ambros about what happened.

“We were holding the walls and resisting the siege. Racoba did not have any siege equipment so we were confident in our defenses. Then sky got dark, and powerful lightning struck the Temple of Poseidon.”

“We” and he motioned to survivors “were in the inner citadel, assigned to be the last line of defense. After the lightning struck we saw a mass of men spill into the north side of the city. The gates were not breached! Everything went downhill from there. Marlon led his last surviving knights to meet the enemy. His last order to us was to escort the Queen out of Hara.”

“We took two rowboats and sunk the rest. Queen and her retinue took two more. Then we rowed upstream, and followed her to here. She is in the tower right now, planning with Tagoler and Jace.”

Ambros went to the tower alone. Earani Cor, even without her kingdom, was a feared woman. There he was assaulted by revolted Jace. She spit the cleric into the face. Ambros wiped the spit and told her to go fuck herself.

Decarili and Ambros updated the Queen on the Ghinarian Hills expedition.

“Is it true” she asked Decarili “that this ray of Umannah had killed the Mother?”

“It is possible. But I did not see her corpse. There was great chaos and confusion in the wake of the destruction.”

“Then we go there.” and she looked into Ambros's eyes. He felt a bit woozy and shaky. “You will go there too.”

“I will go there too.” Ambros repeated.

Plans were made to march all the way north to Ketche, sail to Ahyf from there, and then march to the Lair of Bull God. Other adventurers were not too keen on the plan, but they decided to follow and support Ambros.

“We will move ahead since we are much faster. See you in Ketche. Or not. We will wait for three days before moving on.” Decarili informed adventurers.

Party reached Ketche on the evening of Warmshade 15th, Spiritday.

Queen and her men were nowhere to be seen.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.
Drokh Human Monk level 1 A tall, lean human monk with piercing eyes, weathered skin, and a warrior’s poise—calm and charismatic, he speaks with purpose and strikes with precision, wielding spear, bow, and blade.
Tobias Lindflags Hobbit Thief level 3 A sixth-born son standing to gain nothing from inheritance, so he set out to make his own fortune in the world.
Heinrik Human Magic-User level 1 Muscular mage with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Dalkanarion Human Fighter level 6 A youthful specimen in full strength, full of purpose, bluster, and eagerness to prove himself.

Warmshade 5th, Spiritday

The dead-end cave vibrated from constant tremors. Tobias, Drokh, and Heinrik desperately searched for any hidden opening while Dalkanarion, Amari, Tikatu, and Seren held the narrow tunnel leading into the cave.

As time passed so did adventurers become more and more desperate. And in a moment of darkness they asked the sword to guide them out. “Well, I have shown you the way out once and you cursed me!” the sword told them. Dalkanarion asked it nicely to lead the way.

Forward they went, into the cave with dead Altanian bull-man and curled up shit-stained dwarf, and then spent time figuring out how to carry the latter since Ambros could raise him from the dead. Planning done, they moved past the the basket of copper pieces acting as trap for the dumb and greedy, and then stopped by the tunnel opening leading into a four way junction.

“Yes, there, and then straight, you know, like the last time I guided you...”

But as they stepped forward their light illuminated a large, bull-headed figure at the end of the tunnel. The figure just stood menacingly. Party retreated and went down the hereto unexplored tunnel. Amari protested, unhappy with having exposed behind.

Several winding tunnels and perplexing cave later, adventurers decided to back track. No bull-man will bully them in changing their course. They ran into the beast sooner than they expected. Now it was blocking their return.

Illustration by MLord.

“Maybe it is paralysed?” Dalkanarion theorised, for it hadn't charged not roared. It was obviously breathing and moving, but a man can dream. Myrmidon approached carefully, for which he was rewarded with a greataxe to the thorax.

Dalkanarion held the front, while Drokh and Amari stabbed with spears from the second rank. Mighty warrior, tired, naked, and wounded, delivered a good number of cuts to the beast.

Bull-man reciprocated in kind, and sent Dalkanarion flying, knocking him out. Drokh capitalised on the grim moment by crouching and then lunging upwards, piercing the monster through the chin and skull. He paused for dramatic moment, and then pulled it out. The beast slumbered few steps and then collapsed to the ground.

They checked on Dalkanarion. Wounded and shaken but still alive. Then they proceeded on, intent on returning to cave Tobias, Amari, Seren, and Heinrik entered through.

“Yes, that way. Maybe left. Maybe right. It's been a while.”

Adventurers eventually reached the Y-shaped split leading into the cave. But there was light coming from it, as well as excited yelling and hollering. Tobias took the initiative, slid on his Ring of Invisibility, and then advanced toward the light. He observed a dozen of Altanians, squatting, wrestling, and uttering “Hunt! Hunt! Hunt!” in rotations. He reported back.

Locked in arguing about what to do next, adventurers were surprised by a mighty earthquake that knocked most of them prone. Same thing happened to Altanians next cave, momentarily interrupting their festivities. Indecisive adventurers approached the cave, but then Dalkanarion made a gross error.

“You want WHAT?!” the sword thundered “YOU WANT TO DO WHAT, YOU UNGRATEFUL MEATBAG?!” It was deeply insulted by Dalkanarion suggesting to pass the sword to another, less muscular and impressive adventurer.

“Move! Follow me!” Tobias quick wit saved the party, for he quickly realised cannibals had heard them and were now acting. Remembering the tunnels, he navigated the adventurers down the tunnel, then through the cave with beheaded bull-man, then left, straight, left again, which led them to the lit cave, now bereft of Altanians.

“To the right and straight!” they turned and moved, tremors making the advance challenging. But yelling and hollering was now behind them, in far distance. They walked and crawled, until they could see the tunnel splitting left and right.

Light and distressed yells were coming from the right. Steps carved into the cave floor led up to the left. Tobias scouted ahead. A cave, some forty by forty feet, was a beehive of activity, with three dozen or so Altanians milling about. There were two adjoining caves, one straight ahead and one to the left. Invisible hobbit returned to the party and informed them of the options. They decided to sneak past the cave opening and go left, up the carved steps.

They entered a foul smelling cave filled with emaciated men and women of the Wilderlands. Starving Alyrians, Altanians, Thabrians, and more, numbering between two and three dozen. They were huddled on one side of the cave, while broken Heran Marod lied on the other. He emanated heat so powerful that it could be felt in the whole cave.

Dalkanarion ran up to him, and whispered “We are here! Bring down the wrath of your god!”

Three tribesmen walked in from the other side. At first they did not notice adventurers mixed with captives. Amari, Drokh, and Heinrik seized the moment and struck true. Dalkanarion lifted Heran's broken body, hoping that he could use him as a holy symbol that spews fire at infidels. He pointed him towards the cannibal barbarians, but nothing happened. Catatonic cleric let out a doleful moan.

“Dalkanarion! Quick, pass me to the invisible hobbit! I can help him struck with surprise!” the sword suggested.

“Shut up and do your job!” the myrmidon retorted, putting Heran down gingerly.

Amari was hit hard and fell down in defeat. Drokh drove the spear through the man's throat. Tobias took off his ring and surprised another barbarian with dagger through heart.

“Oh no, it is you who will shut up now.” the sword announced deviously.

Tobias felt sharp pain in his back. Then he felt nothing but longing for his mother. And then all was black.

Heinrik watched as Dalkanarion split the hobbit in half with a single swing of a sword. “Huh” he thought “he is a cool guy, so probably the other guy had it coming.” Then he turned around and stabbed another barbarian.

Drokh watched in horror as Dalkanarion seized the Ring of Invisibility and disappeared. Heinrik the Muscle Wizard parried the cannibal's attack and then killed him with a clean overhead dagger to the skull.

Drokh rushed to Tobias. Hobbit had a deep gash from top of head to the bottom of his butt. He was most certainly dead. Heinrik checked in on Amari. “Kill me now...” she muttered “just kill me now... I don't want to fall in hands of these savages...”

Heinrik was distracted for long enough to go into wish fulfilling mode.

“Quick, look at them. They are all naked and bloodstained! Get rid of your clothes and smear blood over yourself!”

Drokh, Heinrik, and Seren discarded their armours and clothing. Then they painted themselves red with crimson blood of the Altanians.

“What about women, how are they dressed?!”

“No idea!”

“Tie me up and pretend I am your prisoner then!” Amari suggested.

Another powerful earthquake shook the caves. Whole tribe buzzed with chaos and madness.

“Now is our chance! Let's go!” Drokh led the way.

They exited into an elongated cave adjoined by five other caves. Altanians were running around, some in panic, some in confusion. Something was happening.

Disguised adventurers moved cave by cave, surrounded by countless tribesmen hollering and pushing through in the darkness. They followed the mass moving up and down a tunnel.

At one moment a tribesman ran into Drokh. Barbarian stopped and looked at Drokh. Monk pumped his muscle, grunted, and spat on the ground. Barbarian backed off and continued wherever he was headed to initially.

“Light!”

Hearts pounding, adventurers moved forward towards huge ball of orange light. Overpowering smell of seared hair and flesh permeated the damp cave air. Huge column of liquid fire melted through the cave rock.

The party moved hard left, towards the only solid opening. They ran through winding tunnels, hoping that at least some of the tribesmen were wise enough to flee for their life. Tunnels turned left and right, junctions split all the ways, but adventurers pressed on and on. At few occasions some of them almost fell down, to be trampled by the moving horde, but were saved in the last second.

“Light!”

Drokh, Heinrik, Seren, and Amari escaped the lair of Bull God alive. They ran as fast as they could, making distance from the cave entrance. They ran past the skull-adorned stakes driven into the ground. They ran past roaring Altanians hurling insults at the sky. They ran until they reached Ambros and Tikatu, guided by Forseti's divine intervention. And then they all ran together, as the sun melted the very Ghinarian Hills they stood on.

Dalkanarion watched as his hand swung towards the right. That was not the direction he wanted to go in. Was he now so tired that his very limbs were failing him? Bloodied, tired, wounded. Is this how he would go down? By slaying his ally?

Then he heard it. That annoying, arrogant, anxious voice. “You thought you were better than me, did you not? You doubted me? Well, now I will show you!” The sword spoke to him mentally.

Dalkanarion watched as his arms frisked the hobbit's corpse. He watched as he put a ring on his blood finger. His only solace was that Tobias died quickly and without suffering. The cut was clean. Straight through the brain and down the spine. He didn't even realise he died.

“Watch now, watch!”

Dalkanarion could se the environment change. Amari was knocked down. Heinrik, Drokh, and Seren put up a desperate fight. But he was moving away from them and through the mass of Altanians buzzing through the caves. He moved, pushing them aside with ease.

“What a body! What power! You, boy, will server me well!”

Sword did care little for Dalkanarion's torn feet, skinned shins, or bleeding palms. It had driven him mercilessly. It drove him forward, through the mass, and away from the fire.

It drove him true. It did not care for Dalkanarion's eyes screaming in pain as they were exposed to bright sunlight after weeks of being captured underground. It did not care for Dalkanarion's body almost falling apart from exertion, pain, and exhaustion.

It drove him downhill, until the body could take no more.

“I know a cleric that could heal us. Then we would be stronger.” Dalkanarion spoke to the sword. He might have lost control of his body, but his mind was his.

“Do you take me for a fool! A cleric! So he can Dispel Evil! You will obey me, slave!” sword yelled in anger.

“We need to rest. Heal up. I know safe places. You seem lost.”

“Shut up! I know exactly where I am going. Shut up! Get up!”

Dalkanarion, a youthful beast of a body, slowly rose from the ground. The body crawled on, dragging itself in defiance of nature.

And while the body might have been enslaved, the mind waited patiently for its chance. It was surprised by the Sword once. Now it will surprise the Sword—when the chance presents itself.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.
Ambros Human Cleric level 6 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Drokh Human Monk level 1 A tall, lean human monk with piercing eyes, weathered skin, and a warrior’s poise—calm and charismatic, he speaks with purpose and strikes with precision, wielding spear, bow, and blade.
Tobias Lindflags Hobbit Thief level 3 A sixth-born son standing to gain nothing from inheritance, so he set out to make his own fortune in the world.
Seren Human Ranger level 1 Beardless and blinkless ranger.
Heran Marod Human Cleric level 4 Bearded, aging man with shaved head. Follower of Umannah, the Sun God, The Radiant Death.
Heinrik Human Magic-User level 1 Muscular mage with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Belegar Grimlisnev Dwarf Fighter level 3 / thief level 3 4’6”, 150 lbs; white hair; bronze eyes; pale blue skin tone; very hairy. Observant, dependable.
Dalkanarion Human Fighter level 6 A youthful specimen in full strength, full of purpose, bluster, and eagerness to prove himself.

Warmshade 5th, Spiritday

Amari, Seren, Heinrik, and Tobias rushed to a dead-end. There the rangers braced for charge. They heard a loud, angry, protracted bellow moments ago. Prepared, they waited.

“Oh yeah, you can hack this hack without any issues.” the sword cheered Dalkanarion as he stepped towards the bull-headed man. Belegar followed, shit-caked dagger ready, slinking through the shadowy cave. Ecteri gripped iron piton nervously.

“Athena protects!” the Myrmidon roared.

“Wait, listen!” Tobias the invisible cautioned the party. Bellowing was now replaced by a familiar voice echoing down the tunnels. “This sounds like Dalkanarion!”

“But which way to go?”

“Hey, let's spend a round listening closely!”

“Sounds good!”

The beast swung wildly at Dalkanarion, but the warrior dodged. Belegar delivered his coveted backstab, intended for his torturer, straight into the beast's thigh. He was rewarded with a mighty blow to the face, shattering his nose and cheeks.

“You got it! Keep swinging! Stay focused!” the sword cheered Dalkanarion on.

“This way, I think”

Amari, Seren, Heinrik, and Tobias moved through the caves and tunnels. Indecisive, they moved slower than usual.

“Even a dull blade can kill in the hands of great warrior like you!”

Dalkanarion stood over dead bull-headed man.

Belegar had curled up in a dense ball of hair and flesh.

Myrmidon checked on the dwarf.

He was dead.

“Which way to go?!”

“We can't hear him anymore...”

“DALKANARION!”

“DALKANARION!!!”

The quarter stood and yelled.

“Can you hear that?” Ecteri asked.

“Yes! Yell with me young man! Yell with me if you value your life!”

Both parties did their best to follow each others voice. Echos made it for a very disorienting experience. Without Belegar, the dwarf, Dalkanarion was much more lost.

“Wait, wait. Let's pause and listen again.”

“Sword, do you know they way out?”

“Of course! You just need to ask.”

“Please lead the way out then.”

“We should go there.”

“No, we should go there!”

“Wait, which way should we go?”

“I am invisible.”

The quarter lost round to being indecisive.

“Yes, just keep going straight. Almost there. I am, uh, quite sure. Yes, quite sure.”

Dalkanarion kept following the sword, Ecteri right behind him.

“Hey, I think I know where we are now!”

Amari, Seren, Heinrik, and Tobias were back in the cave with beheaded bull-man's corpse. Bloody head was tied to Heinrik's back.

“I know which way to go now!”

Dalkanarion could see light up ahead. He and Ecteri moved slowly.

“Yes, just straight.” the sword said.

Grunts and growls could be heard, matched with familiar sounds of screaming, pleading, and crying.

“You led us back!” Dalkanarion whispered through gritted teeth.

They turned around and ran.

“You asked for a way out! This is the way out!” the sword protested.

The rangers led the way back to the cave with three exits, the one close to the three flayed corpses.

They readied themselves as they could see the light approaching from the long tunnel.

Dalkanarion and Ecteri ran as fast as they could, but these deep, underground tunnels are quite treacherous and uneven.

Heinrik, Seren, and Amari saw a large, naked, bloodied man running towards them, sword swinging. Luckily Tobias had recognised Dalkanarion from before.

“You are alive!”

“I am!”

“Where is Heran?”

“Alas, he has been captured and broken. His god will take care of him.”

“Do you know a way out?”

“No, do you?”

“We think so but are not sure...”

There was little time to rejoice.

Wounded and spent, the rejoined party roamed the tunnels and caves.

Eventually they passed the familiar flayed corpses, and reached a four way intersection with upside down corpse in one of the dead ends.

“This is familiar...”

“Yes, you pulled me out of the cave just up ahead and then to the right.”

Meme by MLord.

“Brace yourself!”

The party was not surprised by three large bull-men rolling up behind them.

Drokh shoot arrows; striking true. Others braced for the charge.

Bull-men fell back into the tunnel.

Adventurers discussed what to do.

“They must be circling us!”

No one heeded Seren's warning. The ranger chased into the tunnel, but was checked by a single bull-man waiting around the corner.

“Behind! Watch out!”

Two bull-men came running from the opposite side of the intersection. It was a total whirlwind now, everyone fighting in the center of this cave. Dalkanarion slashed, and Amari stabbed. Little Tobias finished what others had started—he took of his ring, and stabbed the bull-man right into his heart.

Seren was duking it out with the bull-man in the tunnel, ensuring that his party does not get overrun. The beast was wearing him down, quick.

Drokh went down in one of the exchanges. Amari and Dalkanarion were consistent in their efforts. Large bull-headed men fought with ferocity. He swung his great-axe with awesome violence, caring little for who or what he hits.

Ecteri, emboldened by the fight, also joined the fray. He was promptly cleaved in half. His business plans would never come to life.

Heinrik, the Magic-User Who Should Have Been a Fighter, leaped on the wounded bull-man, grabbed his neck with his left hand, and stabbed him in the throat—repeatedly—with the dagger in his right hand.

Beast fighting Seren backed off and disappeared into the dark caves.

“Check on Drokh...”

The monk was still alive, but battered and injured. He would require some serious bed rest.

“We must go back... That must be the way out! Maybe we took the wrong turn somewhere?”

Adventurers limped back to the crossing with flayed corpses. And then they had seen the light to their left. Shouts and grunts accompanied them.

“Hunt! Hunt! Hunt!”

Ecstatic growls and howls echoed.

“HUNT! HUNT! HUNT!”

“Screw this, go back!”

“I could smell fresh air in the cave where I found this sword.” Dalkanarion shared.

“Oh. I can take you there if you wish. Just ignore that basket full of copper pieces—it is a trap for less intelligent men.”

Amari, Dalkanarion, Drokh, Heinrik, Seren, and Tobias turned around, went straight, right into the junction, straight, then right, ignored the basket to the left and went right, then left through narrow opening and into the dead end cave with fresh air.

“Hunt! Hunt! Hunt!” echoed from all directions. Growling and howling was without break. Bull roars could be heard intermittently.

“Spread out! Look for secret entrances and passageways!”

Ambros was deep in prayer.

Tikatu fiddled and fidgeted.

Decarili sat in silence.

Morning and noon passed, and Tobias and his team had not returned yet.

The trio waited patiently, hidden in the crevice an hour or so away from the Wyverns' Crag and Bull God's lair.

It was evening in a sunny, hot Altanis. The sky was clear. Sun was beating down mercilessly, showing no signs of abating any time soon.

All three men looked up simultaneously.

Decarili squinted.

Sky rapidly transformed from pinkish into bright orange.

Sun raced across the sky—as if it had been ridding a chariot of stars—until it was almost directly above the hills.

Then it became larger and larger and large until it was a blinding fireball covering all of the sky, forcing the men to cover their eyes.

It vomited a great beam of pure fire, blasting straight on top of the Wyverns' Crag.

Ghinarian hills shook violently as the sun blasted the rock.

Beam slid south-wards.

Heran was warm, content.

He was bodyless; immaterial.

Umannah had seen him; Umannah had heard him.

The burning eye gazed into his very existence.

This was Heran's final test; his final chance to prove the weight of his soul.

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This report covers event that transpired via play-by-post after session 151 and until the beginning of the session 153.

Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Heran Marod Human Cleric level 4 Bearded, aging man with shaved head. Follower of Umannah, the Sun God, The Radiant Death.
Belegar Grimlisnev Dwarf Fighter level 3 / thief level 3 4’6”, 150 lbs; white hair; bronze eyes; pale blue skin tone; very hairy. Observant, dependable.
Dalkanarion Human Fighter level 6 A youthful specimen in full strength, full of purpose, bluster, and eagerness to prove himself.

After the battle

Belegar felt a sudden jerk on his belt. Then heavy force pressed him down into the ground. He could taste a strong taste of iron his your mouth. Blood caked his beard and hair.

In a moment he realised there were multiple people pressing him down. In seconds his armour straps were cut, and he was stripped naked. Once Altanians realise he was alive, they pulled him up to his knees.

Still groggy from the beating, it was difficult for him to make sense of the surroundings. He saw two Altanians lifting naked Heran Marod. One of the Altanians picked up the Oathkeeper. In an instant he cried out in pain, as his hands burned, eyes popped out, and refuse escaped him. He dropped down dead, with the sword falling on him, cleaving him straight in half.

Remaining Altanians kicked unconscious Dalkanarion repeatedly, with a few of them stomping him brutally. Finally, they stripped him naked too, and then lifted him up. Altanian whom had remained in the light wrapped up the Oathkeeper, and then tied it to his back.

“Calves!” he roared, facing two youthful Altanians “Hunt down the fleeing coward—bring him home alive or do not return at all.” Then he turned to others, Brothers!” he announced “Mother will be happy with our gifts! We head home now!”

Although disoriented, Belegar realised they were in essence going back in the direction they arrived from. Their hands were not tied. In fact they were not restrained in any way. He was constantly kicked and dragged, urged to hurry up and follow the pace. Otherwise they threatened to de-limb him and turn him into a backpack.

Sunrise

Keeping up the pace with these mad-men, especially after nearly dying, was an arduous task for Belegar. They spent the night traveling along the hills. That was the easy part. Now they were going up. Barefeet. And one of the Altanians took a special pleasure in tripping Belegar up from time to time, just to see how much he can take. It was not a good day for Belegar.

Nightfall

Up and up and up and up and up. That was Belegar's day. Sun beating down mercilessly. That one Altanian picking up on him, time and time again. Dalkanarion proved to be heavy, so Altanians took rotations in carrying him. Heran was carried by a single Altanian. There was discussion mid-day about the value of carrying and old man to the Mother. She likes them young. What's the purpose of this old bastard then? But loud Altanian said everybody must be brought to the Mother.

Sudden outburst of roaring and yelling spooks Belegar. A vertical crevice in the hills, like a wound upon the rock, flanked by six dozen stakes driven into the ground, rotting head atop each.

They have arrived.

“Watch your step, Dwarf.” Belegar's bully grinned as he pushed him into the darkness.

Into Hell

Despite the circumstances, Belegar's keen dwarven senses kicked in. Not even thirty feet in, and it is thick, black darkness. Surprisingly little light comes through the crevice. Belegar could barely see the Altanians in front and behind him.

He did notice they grabbed a rope hanging from the cave wall to the right. Dwarf paid attention to the rope, counting. Every ten feet or so there was an iron ring, hammered into the cave wall, through which the rope passed.

From time to time other Altanians passed him. They all followed the rope. Belegar had a lapse, and got lost for a moment. He was confident they have been following the tunnel for at least an hour.

Heran opened his eyes to total darkness. He felt sick as he was poked in his belly by something sharp. His hands and legs were dangling down. The moment he showed signs of life he was dumped to the ground.

“Well, well, well, the old man is alive after all!” he heard a voice with heavy breath right in front of him. “Hold the rope and walk... Or let it go and die! What do I care! Hahahahahhahahha!” the man burst out laughing. Heran realise he was naked. Umannah did not answer his prayers.

They followed the rope, traversing a natural cave tunnel of varying width. They passed through several open chambers. Belegar felt they were mostly going down, but not at a great slope. At one moment they descend down carved stairs, and then turn left, abandoning rope. Altanians lit up few tallow candles and proceeded on, with captives sandwiched between them. Dalkanarion was still unconscious.

From there they turned right and followed the winding tunnel going down and then up. They entered a cave where Altanians suddenly stopped. The loud one blew a horn, which nearly made Belegar's head explode. Then they turned left and followed another long tunnel.

“Who blows there?!”

“Bommos! Bringing gifts for the Mother!”

“She is resting now. Go away.”

“Move aside shroomsucker or I'll disembowel you!”

Short scuffle between the adventurers' captors and the other side resulted with the former badly beaten. Belegar dropped down on all four and snitched a dagger in the chaos. He hid it in his massive beard.

The fight took place in a cave with four exits. Losers—-and their captives—-were eventually thrown out, with Bommos and his gang sulking away. The retreat was chaotic and disorderly, but eventually Belegar realised they moved south-west from the cave, heading further down, down another long, long tunnel.

An hour or so later, and they could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Into depths

They approached the light and entered a cave system filled with smoke and people. It was damp and warm. One of the caves they passed was filled with long wooden shafts over smoking fires; skins of various animals and men hanging over, drying. In adjacent chamber skins were dipped into holes and cavities filled with foul smelling acid.

Everything smelt, nay reeked, of grease and body odour. Tallow candles illuminated many caves they traversed. All were packed with Altanians, mostly naked. Men, women, children. Most, but not all, had ritual scarring covering their extremities.

“I will add the dwarf's face and back to my jacket!” Belegar's friend announced to the cheering mass. “But I want it to be a face of terror! Fear! Fear for your life, dwarf!”

Adventurers were taken past several more chambers, and Belegar felt the direction was primarily eastwards. Then they were thrown into a chamber packed with emaciated Altanians, Alyrians, Antillians, and Thabrians.

They were not chained nor tied up in any way. There were no guards in this cave chamber. In general, neither Belegar nor Heran spotted any guard posts. Due to low light and tight caves it was impossible to count how many Altanians they passed. Could be several dozen, could be several hundred. They did not pass a single empty cave.

The chamber had two exits. An opening to the west, which adventurers had been brought from to, and a tunnel slopping downwards to the east.

No water nor food was given. The prisoners sucked and licked the crevices along the south wall, through which water seeped in little droplets.

Belegar tried to talk to some of the captives. He was interested to know where the tunnel slopping downwards to the east leads to and if there are prisoners that would be willing to fight against their captors.

Dwarf counted around thirty captives. Altanians and Thabrians were more than happy to fight, but they did not take Belegar seriously at all. “East tunnel leads to the play ground where the Bull God dwells.” they told him.

He also began working on a back up plan, should all else fail. He started acting even weaker than he was. This was a ploy to fool his bully, and then stab him at the most opportune moment. To maximise his final strike, he began smearing shit—his own and of others—onto the blade. “Best case I kill him, worst case I give him a massive infection.” the dwarf though to himself.

Heran prayed for Cure Light Wounds so he could heal his allies. He also prayed for Bless, to embolden captives to break out. He spent rest of his time ministering to the prisoners. “Umannah, give me strength in what may be my final hours to bring glory to your name and destroy these, the forces of Chaos, that would wipe away your Law from the lands of man.”

Over the next three days few new captives were thrown into the chamber. Several were taken, screaming and crying, back into the cave system. Altanians taking them often described in great detail the gruesome acts they were about to perform on them.

An old crone checked in on Dalkanarion daily. She would sniff around him and then leave. Six large tribesmen always accompanied her.

On the second day of their captivity, Heran managed to pray to Umannah. That did not go unnoticed and caused a great commotion. His Bless inspired three of the captives to attempt escape. They were promptly caught, skinned alive, and then boiled in an iron cauldron. Their screams intermingled with laughter and howling of the tribesmen.

Following, the same crone that checked in on Dalkanarion regularly, instructed Altanians on how to deal with the cleric. First they broke all of his fingers, one by one. Then they broke his wrists. Then elbows. Finally, they dislocated his shoulders. Finally finally, they dislocated his jaw. He could not speak, nor could he cast spells anymore. He was crippled for life.

Belegar crouched, a dense ball of shit and hair. Other captives gave him a wide berth. His dagger was ready. He was bidding his time. He would go down fighting.

Fourth day in Hell

Dalkanarion woke up in a dank, warm cave. There was a heavy smell of sweat, offal, and human waste. He was in cave with thirty or so other captives. Belegar, the dwarf, was the only one with some semblance of (accurate) feeling for passage of time. Heran was a disfigured atrocity, his arms mangled and twisted, his jaw locked to the side, making every sound coming from his sound like a pained moan.

Myrmidon was naked, without any possessions. There were no bonds his arms, nor legs. He was free to stretch and move. His attempts to reach out mentally to the Oathkeeper yielded no response. Several hours after he woke up, a hunched crone of dark red skin, accompanied by six bulky tribesmen, arrived.

“You are a big and strong boy, unlike scum over there.” she croaked whilst waving at other captives. “Eat, eat, you will need strength.” He was served a bucket of boiled meat, seven cucumbers, and four oranges. “Tell this old woman more about yourself, Dalkanarion. Tell it all...”

“I am from the north, good lady, but found their states and laws too stifling and self-serving. Too many lords and ladies, thees and thows, but always the downtrodden paying the price. I longed for fresh air and a new start. Where a man, armed with steel and courage, can forge his own destiny. A land that can start new and restore hope to the simple folk. My Lady of the Owl represents War, Justice, and Wisdom. In service, I strive to become Champion of the people.” Dalkanarion spoke whilst standing tall and proud.

He continued “It comes to my ear that distant northern lords, especially the pompous 'overlord,' seek to spread their influence into these lands, ever grasping beyond their reach. But what do they truly know of Altanis and its vitality? Only more tax revenue and military recruits. Tell your people to push back and throw them into the sea should they come armed! Already, in a night of blood and fire, the nefarious and evil lords and guild masters of Hara have been wiped. The cleansing has started. I accept your gracious offer of food. Knowing full well that other plates have been deprived to feed my belly. To be seen as champion, though, I must advise it should be shared amongst the starving.”

The crone's eyes widened and she let out a cackle at the mention of Hara. While talking, Dalkanarion assessed her guard. He also tried to ascertain if she was wearing his medallion of ESP or if he felt a mental tug on his mind.

The crone was naked, using a bent staff to prop herself. Numerous fetishes adorned her, mostly hanging around her saggy neck, but there were plenty of bracelets on her wrists and ankles. Her wrinkled skin was covered with layers and layers of scars.

Six tribesmen don't look dissimilar from men that easily defeated Dalkanarion. Four of them were wearing leather jerkins. All had belts, loincloths, hand axes, and daggers.

“But I know there are more than one way of proving oneself a champion amongst different peoples. Let us honour the gods under their gaze from moon and stars. Light a blaze to illuminate the heavens so that all those above may watch. And give me your finest champion to fight in noble combat after much feasting and dancing. Since primordial times, this is how man proves himself. Let blood honour the almighty, and struggle of man versus man them. Would you, crone, follow such a champion into a new age?”

“Big words from a big man!” she laughed, as did her entourage. “Eat, eat, and you will get your wish. Then we will see if you are a strong as a Bull or just full of big words.”

“Do you gaze into the flames old witch? Do they whisper to you? I have been into the den of vilest evil and gazed into utter darkness. Wicked sorcery descends upon these lands from the mountains of the west, from a sorcerous stronghold within, driving down a howling band of humanoids and brigands. This I know. Would you stand against blasphemous magics and slavering hobgoblins?”

“Others come and go, but Altanians are forever. Bore me no more!” she spit rancid phlegm at Dalkanarion.

“I relish the opportunity for Owl to shred Bull old crone, as has been done before.” Dalkanarion retorted “Yes dirt-crawler, forever hiding in their holes naked, wretched, filthy. Daring not to wander free under the heavens, hiding ashamed of their wretchedness in the eyes of the gods. No dreams, no hope, no change. Forever cursed in their dark tunnels.” He stood stolidly, allowing the spit to hit him. “Now crawl away woman and leave me to rest.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” the crone cackled as Dalkanarion hurled his words at her. “You and your ink will soon be trampled by the Bull God himself!” They left you, cackling.

Others captives stared at Dalkanarion. Few of them began squaring up. Fighter knew that look very well. The look of a hungry animal ready to pounce. Four of them took a few steps towards him.

Dalkanarion look menacingly at them and growled “Advance further and there will be a reckoning...” He motioned towards Heran “Did YOU do this to him fools?”

Two of the four rushed forward. Dalkanarion lunged at them like a wild animal, knocking them both out cold in two rounds. Then he took the food given to him, and squashed it as soft as he could. His plan was to feed it to Heran, however possible.

Cleric's psyche and consciousness, now fully retreated into mind fortress, shielding him from great physical trauma, prayed to Umannah. He dedicated the pain he felt to his God.

Heran could see nothing but fire in his mind's eye. He felt nothing but fire. His flesh melted. His pain washed away. He became warm and serene.

“Burn my body with your divine light and blind the unbelieving Altanians. Umannah I beseech you! Make my body a weapon to drive out this vile corruption.”

Nothing happened immediately, but the warm sensation did not go away. Heran felt presence of something great, but that greatness was not aware of him—yet.

And thus, Heran's psyche dwelt in this presence, meditating.

Dalkanarion, having defeated the two assailants with great ease, encouraged others to back down, too starved to put up a fight.

Heran lied on his back, propped against the cave wall. He was catatonic and unresponsive. Drool dripped down his broken jaw. His mangled arms were bent and crooked. As Dalkanarion approached him, he felt increased warmth—Heran himself was emanating heat, much more than one would expect from a man, even if he was feverish.

Myrmidon knelt next to his broken friend and squeezed orange juice into his gaping mouth.

“Your words are lost on them, Dalkanarion.” a youthful but skinny man addressed him. The face did not look familiar.

“Name's Ecteri, Higman's bastard. I doubt you remember me, but I know of you and your friends. Well, to be fair, everyone in Hara knows of you. My father deals with adventurers quite often. Or, I guess, used to deal now that his establishment burned down to the ground. He is a jeweller. I pleaded with him many times to allow me to follow his trade. It was all for naught. SO I set out to make a name for myself in Ahyf. Gods did not smile upon me, Dalkanarion, and I ended up here, destined to become nothing but a clothing article. How horrible. But your words are not lost on me. Do we stand a chance to live? Is there hope? Or was all that just bravado of a doomed man?”

“Doomed, lad? Oh no. As long as we breathe there is always hope, by Athena. Stand fast and we will find a glimmer of a chance at some point. Just be prepared to follow orders when called upon. Round up any trustworthy folk and huddle together for a council of war. Tell me, also, where this downward passage and stairs lead? Is it guarded? Have you heard or smelt anything from there? Any light?” Dalkanarion spoke whilst chewing on boiled meet and slowly feeding it to Heran, who was completely unable to chew or swallow. Then he turned to the brown ball of hair “Belegar, how fare you my friend?”

“I am unsure where they lead to. That is where they take strong men like you. It is completely unguarded and I haven't seen anyone return. What I do know is that tribesmen get very excited when someone goes there.” Ecteri replied.

Belegar shared everything he learned since being captured.

Another day in Hell

Heran was still warm. In fact, he radiated even more heat, palpable at ten feet radius. Belegar reeked really bad. That dagger was caked proper. He was careful not to nick himself on it.

Sometime during the day tribesmen took three of the skinniest captives. They were taken into the caves. They screamed for hours as Altanians turned them into leather.

“If we ever make it out, I’m coming back to burn this place down.” Dalkanarion muttered to himself.

A loud bull roar echoed from the unguarded path leading down.

Heran meditated. He was nothing but charred bones in a whirlwind of fire. The roaring of flames were now nothing but background noise. There was no pain, only serenity. A titanic, planet-sized, eye formed out of flames and gazes into his being.

The gaze was unflinching; its attention constant. It was all encompassing. Everything rumbled and shook as flamed dance around Heran, forming sounds that he could make sense of.

“You call unto me in great pain, desiring death and destruction upon those surrounding you, Heran Marod.

Chaos confounds, corrupts, and cannibalises in a moment of weakness.

Would you not rather bring people salvation and clarity?

Or you wish nothing but Radiant Death to them?

Speak, and your wish shall be granted.”

“My Lord, Father of the Light that is my life. My body is ruined, and I have seen the evil of these barbarian Altanians. To be the tinder to the flame that drives Chaos from these lands has been my aspiration since I have discovered the truth of your glory. I know that all men's lives are passing, that our candles' fires are quickly extinguished. Let me be that tinder. If my fire must go out, let it shine bright in its last moments and consume those who are agents of Chaos. Let my death safeguard my companions from this place of evil. Destroy the barbarians.”

Dalkanarion knelt next to the cleric. He whispered words of encouragement and gratitude into his ear. He also promised revenge. Then he and Belegar tried to rouse captives to join them in a daring escape downwards.

“Stand tall all of you. Now is the time to be reckoned, and measure the steel of your spirit. Whatever life is left in us, it’s worth spending it as free as possible or fighting for that freedom. I refuse to simply wait here for the inevitable sacrifice. I choose to fight on my terms, whatever may come, and die like a man rather than a cowering sheep. We have an advantage of initiative and numbers. Some may perish, but that might purchase the freedom of others. I’ll put my own body first in the line. Who will join me?!? For Athena Protectress!”

Dalkanarion's words fell on deaf ears. Ecteri slowly stood up “I'll join you. But if we are captured again, then please break my neck, for those who flee suffer horrible fates.”

Belegar had a shit-caked dagger, Dalkanarion and Ecteri each had a rock. The rocks lit up, providing torch-like illumination. They thanked Heran for his gift.

The trio descended, sneaking past a chamber filled with tribesmen, and then continued deeper down, following the tunnel. Half an hour later they emerged into a cave with two exits. North exit led straight and then turned west. South exit opened up into a Y shaped junction, with tunnel splitting south-west and south-east.

They headed north, turned west and reached a four way junction. North had a broad bend before turning west. South was a dead end with three flayed corpses. East opened up in a larger cave.

Dalkanarion pulled out three iron spikes from the corpses. They were caked with blood and gore. Belegar heard loud footsteps coming from the cavern to the east.

Heavy thuds suddenly stopped. The trio went north, turned west, and followed the tunnel for some fifty feet before it turns north-east. They were now at a junction with four exits.

North-east tunnel went thirty feet and then turned north.

North-west led into a tunnel running from north-east to south-west.

South-east was the direction they came from.

South-west was a dead-end after twenty feet. There was an upside down human corpse, cleaved almost in half vertically. It was hanging by ankles nailed into the cave wall. Maggots and flies festered in its rotting flesh.

Party goes northwest, then turns northeast, reaching a Y-shaped split.

North-west was a dead-end with a hewn alcove. Inside the alcove was a basket, filled to the brim with copper pieces, reflecting the adventurers' light.

North-east opened up into a cave with exit to the north. They heard a feeble cry “help... help... I am stuck...” coming from that direction.

The moved slowly and cautiously in that direction, into the cave and further north. It was a narrow passageway, some three feet wide. It opened up in a wide cave, some thirty feet long and fifteen feet deep. The ceiling was roundish, some twenty feet above. Air was a bit fresher.

“Please... over here... get me out... I am stuck...”

It took Dalkanarion a moment to realise it was a sword speaking to them! Not mentally, but out loud. The blade was stuck in the wall at the west end of the cave. Steel hilt adorned with emeralds was jutting out.

Dalkanarion tried reaching out mentally. There was no response. He attempted to pull the sword out.

“Thank you–oh, what a strong grip!”

Dalkanarion heaved and pulled, but the sword remained stuck!

“You have mighty thews, it must've been a fluke! Oh, please try again!” the sword cries out, exasperated.

He pulled and pulled and pulled, but no movement!

“Try to push yourself against the rock! Use your whole body, not just arms! Please!”

Dalkanarion's muscles almost bursting, he finally pulled out the sword, sending him flying on his ass.

“Wow, amazing!” the sword quipped “I hope my blade hasn't dulled so much to be useless! Thank you mighty warrior! What is your name?”

Belegar heard heavy footsteps and laboured breathing approaching from south. Peeking through narrow tunnel he could see into the cave they came through.

A large, red-skinned man with bull's head and large, two-handed axe, entered. He stared in Belegar's direction.

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Heinrik Human Magic-User level 1 Muscular mage with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Seren Human Ranger level 1 Beardless and blinkless ranger.
Tobias Lindflags Hobbit Thief level 3 A sixth-born son standing to gain nothing from inheritance, so he set out to make his own fortune in the world.
Somniel Elf fighter level 1 / Magic-User level 1 An elf of ambivalent age suffering from mild amnesia.
Tikatu Human Druid level 3 A dirty little ma with dark and dirty skin, wearing loincloth with no back. “What will be, will be” is his favourite aphorism.
Amari Human Ranger level 1 Black hair that shines blue. Scarred like a gladiator.

Warmshade 2nd, Waterday

Adventuring party of eight found themselves at the junction, both literal and metaphorical. After a brief discussion, they decided that Ignaeus and Mepheus of Hephaestus would escort badly wounded Somniel to Ahyf. The elf was in no shape to adventure.

Tobias used the time to chat with Decarili, the Queen's Captain of the Guard and their guide to Ghinarian Hills.

“How long have you been serving the Queen for?”

“I've served the Queen ever since she defeated the Mother of our tribe and led us into new era. That was thirteen years ago.”

“And whereabouts are you from?”

“Where from? Here. I was born on Ghinarian hills.”

“Do you know anything about this Bull God tribe?”

“Yes, I know my tribe well. That is why I am your guide.”

“Do you believe a peaceful resolution of the matter is possible?”

“Peace? Yes, peace at the end of the blade.”

“What is your take on why you were sent with us when the city received a direct threat from Racoba?”

“Why was I sent with you? Ask your High Priest, he asked for it.”

Frustrated but persistent, Tobias did his best to keep the conversation going. He was thirsting for something—anything—useful and insightful.

“Can you tell me more about the sacrifices and their significance? Are these part of the old ways?”

“We sacrifice men and women to bring the Bull God to life. He then takes us on a Great Hunt. That is what the crones say. They are full of shit.”

“Can you tell me more about the Bull God?”

“Bull God is the patron of our tribe. Every Altanian tribe has a patron. Bull God is a big, majestic bull.”

“As our guide, what do you think would be the path taken to our destination? One where we do not necessarily cross hunting grounds but we can still make good time?”

“Are you joking little hobbit? Tell me what do you see around us? As far as the eyes see? Do you want me to put you on my shoulders? Well, everything you see, and beyond, are Altanian hunting grounds. Altanis, they call it. You know, what is Barbarian Altanis to City-Folk is merely Altanis to us. Best path is usually the shortest path. Less steps. Probably better for you that way.”

Tobias smirked about the comments and after a brief pause retorted in a friendly manner. “I always fancied a nice sorrel stallion, but its not the time to break one in.”

He continued “However as the Altanians seem to be hunting for people, we actually might be better off not following the treaded path. If you want fish, you go to the river – this path here is like the river, and we don't want to be caught, do we?”

Decarili shrugged.

Adventurers decided against following the trail towards the desecrated temple. Instead, they asked Decarili to take them straight to the wyvern lair, which is supposedly atop the second highest peak. From there it should be possible to see where Altanians lair.

Maybe.

Warmshade 3rd, Earthday

Amari gazed at the sky, in the direction Decarili was pointing to. She could see two wyverns flying in her direction. Barrel-chested Altanian tapped her on the shoulder and whispered with a big grin “See, I am taking you in the right direction.”

Two predators failed to spot six tasty snacks and went on about minding their own business.

After two watches of hard trek in sweltering heat, the second peak of Ghinarian Hills was within reach. Adventurers spent the evening watch looking for a perfect spot to hole in and spend the night.

They found a horizontal crevice, positioned and bent so it is easy to observe the outsides from withing, while being nearly invisible to those outside.

There they planned and deliberated. The best plan they cooked rested firmly on Tobias's small shoulders. The hobbit would put on his ring of invisibility and then scale the peak, explore the wyvern lair if necessary, and identify where the Bull God tribe lairs.

Warmshade 4th, Fireday

Some time after midnight Seren and Tikatu, whom were on guard duty, spotted eight human-like figures running down-hill. Howla and Vannis illuminated their frames. They moved quickly and with grace. Ranger and druid remained silent. There was no light in their camp and figures were several hundred yards away. No need to draw any unwanted attention. Plus, Tobias was sleeping. The hobbit will need all the strength he can muster to complete his task.

Indeed, Tobias left the camp with the first rays of sun proper. He followed the goat trail pointed out by Decarili. He slowly moved up, despite being invisible, watching his steps carefully. Would be a pity to fall down and become an invisible corpse.

Overlooking south side of the hills was an oval opening, some twenty feet wide and thirty feet tall. Tobias took a brief peek. Broken bones of various humanoids and animals littered the cave floor as far as eyes could see. The thief steeled himself, turned around, and scanned the surroundings.

Minutes felt like hours. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Tobias was under so much stress he was unable to appreciate beautiful Altanian summer. There were no traces of clouds whatsoever. He could see sea to the east, great plains and woodlands to the south, and majestic mountain range to the west. But he could not appreciate them, for he knew there were wyverns just behind his back.

Then they appeared. The respite Tobias had been looking for.

A gang of dozen or so Altanians were running uphill, coming from south and going towards the peak Tobias was on. Then they suddenly went downwards and disappeared out of sight. At this moment the hobbit heard a deep grumbling sounds echoing from the cave behind him. He promptly climbed down, ran to the camp, and shared his observations with other adventurers.

“You see, Tobias, now you need to pull up your big boy pants and go check out where did those barbarians go. Don't forget to put on the ring!”

Encourage by great support of his colleagues, Tobias set out once more. It took him two hours to find where did the barbarians go. A narrow crevice, some forty feet tall, in the hillside. It looked like a wound upon the rock. Sixty or so stakes were planted into the ground around the crevice. Rotting corpses, broken skulls, and animal carcasses were impaled upon them.

Tobias dropped to the ground, belly down. He was several hundred yards away from the crevice, on an elevated position. He observed as his heart pounded.

There was no rhyme nor reason to Altanians coming and going from the crevice. Two would enter, seven would exit, loiter about, then four would enter, several more exit and go about... Tobias could see no disciplined guards or patrols. He did get to witness the men engage in cruel and sadistic pastime activities.

“There must be another way...” the hobbit thought. That's why he decided to search the surrounding thoroughly instead of merely lying on his belly and observing the crevice. He spent the whole noon slowly crawling about, investigating every nook and cranny that seemed even remotely interesting.

His effort paid off, for he did find another cave opening. This one was above the crevice he had found earlier, in addition to being further east. Proud of his discoveries, Tobias returned to the camp to share what had he learned.

Adventurers discussed their plans well into the night.

Warmshade 5th, Spiritday

“Listen, here is the plan.” Amari attempted to break the gridlock. Adventurers were unable to commit to a plan that did not feel like an outright death march. “Ambros, and Tikatu stay here. Seren, Heinrik, Tobias, and myself go. Tobias, you keep the ring on at all time. Don't engage. Let us die if it comes to it. You just follow us, take notes, and then live to tell others where to go!”

There was also fundamental disagreement about the nature of this expedition. Is it about recovering an Egg of Desire, a powerful artefact recovered from the Windowless Tower, or about rescuing Dalkanarion, Heran Marod, and Belegar Grimlisnev.

Seren and Heinrik accepted the plan. Tobias was hesitant but accepted in the end too.

“Decarili, will you join us?”

“My job was to guide your here and to ensure Ambros delivers the Queen's message. I stay with him.”

“Wow, was that ominous or what?”

Decarili gave his best attempt at giving a more enthusiastic shoulder shrug to encourage the Daring Four. “One word of advice. Avoid the gaze of any women you meet in the caves.” he offered as parting advice.

“Wait, what? Why?” the hobbit inquired.

“Altanian women as psionically gifted. Different tribes focus on different talents. Women of the Bull God can make your head explode. Why did you think the merchants fear meeting the Queen?”

“Wow, what is this, an anthropology lesson BEFORE we head into the den of cannibalistic barbarians?! Just now?! Anything else we should know?!”

“Don't get captured.”

The quartet left camp in the morning. Tobias led them to the second entrance he had found. Everybody hoped that this would lead them true. Heinrik filled his bullseye lantern. Then they entered.

Sprawling tunnel went on and on and on and on. They walked for hours, tense and on the edge. They walked for so long that lamp oil was nearly spent before they reached an opening leading into another tunnel.

Ahead of them were three bull skulls nailed to the cave wall. Looking right they could see the tunnel goes for some twenty feet before turning right again. Looking left they could see the tunnel goes for fifty feet before twisting.

They elected to follow the left hand path.

This led them into a confounding cave system with numerous natural tunnels cris-crossing each other. Whenever they stumbled upon a dead end they'd find horribly mutilated corpses there. One had three flayed humans. Another had a hobbit stuffed into an elf stuffed into a human.

“I hear something...”

Heinrik warned the party. They were standing at a junction, deciding where to go next. Magic-User heard heavy footsteps rapidly approaching from their right. Adventurers fell back and readied themselves.

A massive man, naked and of blood red complexion, charged them, swinging two handed great axe with ease. A bull's head was where one would expect to see a human one.

Seren was ready, having braced his spear. He cut into the charging beast, wounding it. The man-bull retaliated by slashing the ranger. Seren countered with another well targeted flurry of attacks.

Tobias followed instructions he agreed to before entering this vile place. He hugged the cave wall and watched the scene unfurl before his eyes.

Heinrik backed off just enough to cast Light at the bull headed man's eyes. The beast hollered, but kept swinging. Amari used its confusion to deliver several stabs of her own. Seren followed up with another round of thrusts and slashes. Medium dropped his staff, pulled out the dagger, and joined the fray.

Badly wounded, the beast tried to back off. It failed miserably, as Seren, Amari, and Heinrik repeatedly stabbed it. Man-bull fell down, bleeding from countless freshly punctured orifices. The beast groaned and exhaled. Adventurers stood victorious.

Amari pulled on the horns. The bull head was not a mask—it was flesh and sinew. Heinrik took the greataxe and used it to decapitate the monster. Then he strapped it to his backpack and secured it with rope.

Quartet moved on, exploring tunnels and getting nowhere.

Then they heard a loud, angry, protracted bellow. This time they were unable to ascertain wherefrom it was coming—the echo made it sound like they were completely surrounded.

Tobias squeezed his ring.

Meme by MLord.

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