Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Marston Dangon	Magic-User level 1	A tall man engulfed by large cloak with broad, stuffed shoulder pads. Hundreds of sewn fireflies make his cloak look alive.
Darrad	Cleric level 1	A cleric of Pernatem, God of Sculptures, is a well sculpted man himself with long brow beard, slicked dark hair, and imposing frame.
Brent Goose	Cleric level 4	An eccentric, but charismatic, cleric seeking the Holy Bird. White robes and black cloak conceal his tall, frail and anemic frame. His eagle-like nose is exposed for all to see.
Hedwig Hogwarts	Elf level 2	An always alert owl masquerading as an elf.

Goodgrove 1st, Airday

“We should go back to that tower.”

“Yeah, it was full of treasure.”

Having rested for a week, some of the adventurers were itching for a new adventure.

Brent Goose spent his time proselytising, telling stories about great heroes and great cities and how Kadrim aided them with small birds. The God of Small Birds is very well known for granting boons in form of small gestures that made great impacts.

Gestures such as going silent to warn travelers/hunters of dangers and spreading food and abundance through the winds along with spirits of the wind. The cleric leveraged his affinity towards birds, as well as Speak with Animals spell to have them gather around him and chirp in unison as he built small birds nests.

Not by accident, Brent preached in the most well off parts of Hara. Oh, and has it paid off handsomely.

His sermons attracted more and more people. Whomever disturbed was shooed away by the guards—they too were captivated with Brent's displays of piety and good nature.

On the fourth day of his procession, a young woman came to him and kisses his hand. She was utterly bedazzled with the cleric's divinity. Her name was Sara Pilter, fourth daughter of Mihajlo Pilter, the head of Pilter family.

“Pick a spot preacher, pick it, and we shall build a grand fountain there! With bird nests, and benches, so people can gather around you and hear the wise words of Kadrim!”

Edimus Gorgon spent his week gathering rumours at the Partihouse, the palace of vile debauchery. This is what he learned: “We heard yo mamma is so ugly you worship Pernatem just so you could sculpt something that doesn't look like a mix of a boar and a whale!” What happened next is best left unwritten.

Marston the Humble sought an apprentice, that'd ideally work for free. He picked the most trafficked spot—after all, he deserves the grandest audience—the main market square. Of course, we will gloss over the fact they are captive audience, since most of them are there to do work.

The wizard told fantastic stories of his great arcane exploits and powers. Once he judged he gathered a group of respectable size, he finished his story by throwing a stone into the air and blasting it with a Magic Missile.

At least that's the story he tells. The locals will tell you of a guy in oversized robe throwing pebble at people and then hitting the Temple of Forsetti with a glowing orb. He was promptly chased away by the clerics and angry crowd.

Now, Marston's display wasn't for naught. A young man with the constitution of an adult brick approached the wizard, seeking to teach him “magik.” His name was Rockhill. Marston bought him a sword and plate mail, scrapped arcane-looking symbols on them, and convinced his new apprentice they are enchanted.

“Master, this does not look like a Wizard's staff?”

“My young apprentice, you must be able to swing a sword before you may sling a spell. Besides that is the blade of Resolute Fortune, a very powerful enchanted blade I created myself.”

“You may keep your excellent wand and use it when I deem you worthy of learning sorcery but for now please stick to the sword.” The wand being a club owned by Rockhill.

Tangay Of The Seven Stars, the new headmasters of Hara's wizard guild, grudgingly allowed Rashomon and Lyffed access to the Guild's arcane library and workshop. Using obscene amounts of gold, a well known lubricant, Rashomon also convinced the man to teach him the Sleep spell.

The female owlelf Hedwig spent her week mapping and exploring Hara. She created a detailed map and marked all the locales. It's important to say that she hasn't seen all of them in person, in fact, most were based on what people had told her.

Either way, a decision had been made to revisit the ruined tower to extract more of its treasure. The adventuring party consisted of:

• Marston Dangon, his wardog Danny, and his apprentice Rockhill.
• Darrad, a newly recruited cleric of Pernatem. Nearly as brickish as Rockhill.
• Brent Goose, and a hand-picked follower he had named Scuttle Dinglehopper.
• Hedwig Hogwarts, eager to return to the tower once more.

The party had reached the tower by the end of the day. They made camp, shared some stories, and slept firmly.

Goodgrove 2nd, Waterday

Down they went with the first rays of sun.

“Let's explore that secret passageway.”

Following it led into a large chamber, fifty by fifty feet. Hedwig hugged the walls as she moved around.

“Hey, I've seen what happened to that other guys last week!”

There was nothing of interest in this room, besides an arched exit on the north side. Now that passage opened up in a more interesting chamber. This one was a rectangular room fifty feet wide and thirty feet deep.

Two lines of fluted columns ran along the full width of the chamber. Two huge iron pendulums were slowly swinging from side to side. There were three doors: in south-west corner, north-west corner, and north-east corner. Brent and Scuttle watched guard by the archway while others examined the chamber with pendulums.

Although big and obviously heavy, the swinging weights were easy to avoid with proper timing. Darrad heard human-like voices coming from the south-west doors. Naturally, the party lined up by the doors and went it.

Except they didn't.

The doors didn't budge.

The voices stopped.

“We come in peace.”

“What do you want?”

“Who are you?”

“We are resting here.”

“Please don't hurt us.”

“We won't if you don't hurt us.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

At that moment Scuttle turned to his master, point at three gigantic boring beetles rolling out of the darkness. Marston sent in Danny and fired of a magic missile. He also sent forth Rockhill, “to cast a Magic Missile up close.” Other warriors formed a line.

One of the beetles bit Danny in half. The dog's whelps were brief. Aforementioned line of warriors dissolved with great haste as they all retreated into the pendulum swinging room.

“Go for the north doors! Go!”

Iron balls might've been too slow for the adventurers, but they sure weren't for the beetles. Alas, they seemed to simply bounce off of each hit. Rockhill tripped, and one of the giant insects penetrated his lower regions.

“Ouch! Master, it hurts! Master, please save me with your great magik! Master!”

The last thing he witnessed in his troubled life was his Master fleeing through the north doors, shutting them behind him.

Party found themselves in a thirty by thirty chamber. Closest doors were to their left. Behind them a corridor turning into a T-shaped junction. A chest on an plinth to their right, another twisting corridor to their left.

“Na-uh, that's trapped.”

“I know.”

Marston and Darrad left behind to play with the chest. The rest moved on, exploring the labyrinthine corridors for several hundred feet.

“Cast Knock on it.”

“Like this?”

Darrad hit the lock with his trusted weapon. Several times. That did the trick. Then he grabbed a maroon- and emerald-coloured silk pouches. The duo rushed to reconnect with others.

“Nooo!”

Scuttle Dinglehopper just got speared into the stomach by a blue goblinoid creature with oversized head and ridiculous unibrow.

“Will... will the birds carry my soul to the Great After?” the boy uttered with his last breath. The answer was drowned out by sounds of battle as the adventurers massacred four cobalt-blue creatures.

Hedwig decapitated one with her two-handed sword, two were burned to death by Marston, and last one was caught in the Hedwig & Brent murder combo.

“We should head back.”

Brent Goose gingerly picked up the corpse of his follower, and carried it for the remainder of his time in the dungeon. Good followers deserve proper burial rites; not to be left to rot in a long abandoned place.

The party followed another corridor, taking an educated guess it might loop back into the camber with pendulums. And they were right!

What they did not expect to see are Hawkwerth and Oldham the Stormy, and two other unfamiliar men.

Three giant beetle corpses were now in the room, two of them obviously crushed to death by pendulums. The remaining one was full of arrows. Yes, the men they just ran into were sporting short-bows, and were standing just by the south-west doors.

“What are you doing here?”

“What?! Cleaning up your mess!”

“Uh, this wasn't us.”

“No?! How many people do you exactly think pass though here?!”

“OK, it might've been us.”

“Now, look what happened! They interrupted our rest!”

“Hey, how about this coin for your troubles...”

The party had exited the dungeon uninterrupted.

Brent found a solemn place to bury Scuttle. Little birds sung a beautiful, melancholic melody.

“Would you like me to say a few words for Rockhill, as well?”

“Who? OOOH! I forgot about him!”

“Never mind then.”

The party reached Hara by mid-day of Goodgrove 3rd, Earthday.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Gildree	Elf level 1	Expat from far away land with a permanent scowl. Attempts to integrate with locals by carrying halberd and blood-red plate mail adorned with little skull motifs.
Rashomon	Elf level 1	A dangerous looking elf.
Lyffed	Elf level 1	Thin and balding elf whom also happens to be Rashomon's friend.
Brent Goose	Cleric level 3	An eccentric, but charismatic, cleric seeking the Holy Bird. White robes and black cloak conceal his tall, frail and anemic frame. His eagle-like nose is exposed for all to see.
Hedwig Hogwarts	Elf level 2	An always alert owl masquerading as an elf.

Harvestime 10th, Spiritday

Another gorgeous, sunny day in the Barbarian Altanis. Our group of merry adventurers, now reinforced with Hedwig Hogwarts, an elf with huge, owl-like eyes, and equally owl-like, messy hair.

The party had been staying at the Circled Star inn, the best and most luxurious place that welcomes wary travellers in Hara. Full of coin, they could afford the exuberant price of five gold pieces per day.

Either way, few of the members laid low—no, they were enterprising, undertaking various downtime activities whilst preparing their next expedition.

Brent Goose built a small shrine to Kadrim and continued his public sermons. He was rewarded with the following vision:

Four small robbed creatures dance in a circle. One wears white robe, the other wear brown robes. They dance faster and faster and faster until they suddenly stop. The white one open his robe—revealing to be some unholy mix of standing dog, rat, and reptile—and takes out a crumpled roll of parchment. Others gather around it and marvel at the drawing of wings made from wood and metal. The white robed creature points to lines next to it and points further up the mountain. Then it looks you straight into the eyes and hisses! You wake up, surrounded by your followers, all eager to hear what vision Kadrim sent to you.

Eon joined the Fighter's Guild, and invested 77% of all his money into an amazing investment opportunity. Now all he has to do is wait two weeks to get three times his investment back. No risk!

Marston went seeking for new war dog to buy, but lo and behold, he ran into Danny, his old war dog. Yes, he was a bit scruffy and without leather harness, but healthy otherwise. Gildree sought work, and found work. Questionable disposal of two bodies in a house in a dark alleyway. There he found a bruised and cut corpse of half-naked dwarf as well female halfling. Gildree chopped them up and then dissolved their remains using the liquid given to him by his patron. Work is work, and 500 gold pieces is one heavy sack. He did the job, no questions asked, and was paid, no questions asked.

Two elven buddies, Rashomon and Lyffed, hit the regular taverns, listening attentively. Lyffed did most of the heavy work, since Rashomon's comments mostly either landed flat or outright insulting.

Whilst at the Dancing Wolf tavern, they over-heard six tough-looking men boasting of their recent success plundering “a dangerous dungeon underneath a ruined tower.”

Luckily, they were “too tough and too smart” to fall for all the traps laid within. With few well delivered compliments, several rounds of drinks, and open-ended questions, the elves weaselled out that this ruined tower should be ten miles south-west of Hara.

On the morning of this very day, the party consisting of Gildree—with his two retainers, Hawkwerth and Oldham—Rashomon, Lyffed, Brent Goose, and Hedwig Hogwarts set out to find that tower. And all the riches that lurk underneath it.

Harvestime 12th, Waterday

Finally! By the second daylight watch of the third day, the party had found an eighty feet tall ruined tower. What once was an impressive cylinder of white marble was now nothing but a dilapidated tower full of gaping wounds. Large, ornate door frames stood there, door-less, exposing the tower's insides.

Closer inspection of the tower from the outside revealed two curiosities. First, the damage seemed to be cause by siege engines or something of similar power. Second, the damage seemed to be primarily caused from the inside.

“Let's go in.”

Insides again pointed at tower's once glorious shape. The floor was perfectly smooth stone. Were it not for the rubble from the smashed ceiling, it would be a wonder to marvel at. The insides were completely illuminated by the sunlight coming in through the non-existent roof.

A dome of smooth, gray stone dominated the inside of the tower. Circling it, the party had found large stone doors. Closed, of course. Two strong members got to it, and soon they were opened doors. Just like the tower, this dome also had a broken top. There was little of interest there besides staircase leading into the darkness.

Rashomon took the lead.

The spiral staircase went on, and on, and on. The stairs, like walls, were of exceptional quality. They were incredibly smooth, with well-hidden joints. Finally, after half-an hour of descent, the party entered a round chamber with fifty foot diameter. Four fluted columns spanned the whole height of the chamber. There were doors to the north and west. Both were framed with ornamental decorations. Writing in unknown language adorned the top of both doors.

“Finally a use for Read Languages spell!” Rashomon and Lyffed approached the west door. Once the latter had cast his spell, the symbols and letters started moving around like earthworms, until they made sense.

“Door” the text said.

“Oh.”

The duo stepped forward to listen. First then felt elevation change, then they felt arrows lodging in their backs. Luckily for them, only one manage to penetrate the armour and do some damage.

Gildree quickly compared the text above the north doors to the one just deciphered by Lyffed. They were identical.

“Very helpful!”

Hedwig the Owl notices something was off with the mural at the base of radial staircase down which they came. There was a large decorative section that looked like a frame—but nothing was framed! And it didn't look like something was moved...

“I press it with the tip of my sword.” Hedwig announced.

Nothing.

“Ha-ha, I press it with my palm then.” Hedwig followed.

The framed area depressed, and then gave in under Hedwig's relentless push. A dark, narrow passageway opened up before them.

“I go in!” Hedwig shared.

Like the surroundings, the passage was well made as well. But it had no decorations, no embellishments, nothing. Well, not nothing.

Few steps in the owl-elf's eyes widened as a silver urn, a golden urn, and four skeletal heads, each wearing a chunky gold necklace, entered his sight.

Hedwig gingerly touched one of the necklaces with the tip of his sword. Nothing happened. Rashomon joined in behind him. Hedwig took one necklace. Nothing happened. Then Rashomon took one. Nothing happened. Then Hedwig took the other two necklaces, as well as two urns. Then he heard a sound of stone scrapping against stone, followed by child-like giggle. And then both him and Rashomon nearly perished from a repeated volley of darts and stones flying at them from the darkness to their left.

“Out, get out!”

Some tried to shoot into the darkness, but with little success. Rashomon summoned an orb of purple light and hurled it down the corridor. Magic missile illuminated the secret passageway as it flew forward, revealing a horde of shin-sized humanoids. Its landing was announces with one of the small human's violent explosion. Blood and gore covered its allies, and their child-like giggles were replaced with high-pitched growls.

“Step aside!”

An burning oil flask was lobbed where the magic missile just landed. A hit! Screams of terror and cries of desperation supplanted high-pitched growls. The party was victorious. Hedwig and Rashomon were nearly dead.

“Should we head out? Look at all this treasure—that's pure profit, right there!”

“No, let's check one more room.”

“Where to, then?”

“Not the trapped doors, that's sure.”

“How about we go down the secret passage?”

“No, they might wait for us in ambush.”

“North door, then?”

“Sure. When I listened at them I haven't heard anything.”

“Let's go.”

Hedwig and Brent Goose staid behind, watching the passageway which they've just plundered. Rest of the party forced the doors open and entered a fifty by fifty foot chamber.

Twelve fluted columns formed a square pattern, essentially splitting the chamber into outer and inner square. Gildree marched on, flanked by Hawkwerth, and followed by Lyffed. Wounded Rashomon was the last, keeping an eye for any would-be ambushers.

Alas, that did not help him notice the floor giving in under the weight of four of them. The last thing Gildree witnessed in his life was perfectly polished stone floor. Hawkwerth and Lyffed suffered minor injuries. Rashomon, on the other hand, had a near death experience. He survived, but was now so badly injured— several broken bones and ribs at bare minimum—he required assistance even to move.

“Has anyone brought rope?”

“No.”

In a flash of brilliance, Oldham came up with a simple plan. The pit the four adventurers fell in was merely ten feet deep. If they pass him Gildree's polearm, then he could extend it as far as possible and hold it tight, while others climb out one by one. And indeed, that's what the victims agreed to.

But there was one little complication. Rashomon couldn't really move on his own. Nothing to worry about, though! Hawkwerth and Lyffed properly manhandled him until the elf was out of the pit. Not before Lyffed noticed a bunch of small hands coming out of the walls! The hands tapped over all the adventurers, stealing gold coins wherever they could find them! And then they vanished.

Unlike Gildree's corpse, which was left to rot in the pit.

“Voices from above!”

“Quick, hide around the corner!”

“Extinguish those torches!”

Brent Goose heard a number of masculine voices descending from above, down the same staircase they cometh from. The party retreated into the room with the pit. They pressed against the south wall, and patiently waited.

The voices got louder. They were definitely in the round chamber. No one understood the language they spoke. Based on the volume, there could be anywhere between five or twelve of them. Finally, Lyffed took a big breath, stepped around the corner, and introduced himself.

Four well armed and armoured dwarves immediately turned to him.

“Who goes there?!” one of them asked in Lawful, waving his battleaxe at the elf.

“A party of adventurers. We are on our way out. Be careful, there are many traps here!”

Pleasantries were briefly exchanged. The dwarves came down here to investigate the construction, for they were really curious after seeing the tower. They were all quite impressed with the build quality, and might even spend some time mapping the place. They also managed to lob few poorly concealed jabs at the party.

“Who would expect a place like this to be unguarded and untrapped! Inconceivable!”

The party retreated out of the ruined tower, and marched straight back to Hara. Since they were hauling treasure, as well as badly injured elf, it took them three days to return.

Their first stops were money changers—all coin entering Hara must be reported, else it is confiscated—and then the jeweller. Gold urn held 200 gold pieces, while silver urn held 200 silver pieces. Four gold chains were each worth 1400 gold pieces. The party held onto significant wealth even after paying the tax and service fees.

It was a good expedition. For everybody except Gildree.

What next?

Will they return to the ruined tower?

Or seek fortune elsewhere?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Gildree	Elf level 1	Expat from far away land with a permanent scowl. Attempts to integrate with locals by carrying halberd and blood-red plate mail adorned with little skull motifs.
Marston Dangon	Magic-user level 1	A tall man engulfed by large cloak with broad, stuffed shoulder pads. Hundreds of sewn fireflies make his cloak look alive.
Rashomon	Elf level 1	A dangerous looking elf.
Lyffed	Elf level 1	Thin and balding elf whom also happens to be Rashomon's friend.
Ripos Wildcheeks	Halfling level 3	A halfling of style as attested by his loose fitting white blouse, silky cravat, and red cap.
Brent Goose	Cleric level 3	An eccentric, but charismatic, cleric seeking the Holy Bird. White robes and black cloak conceal his tall, frail and anemic frame. His eagle-like nose is exposed for all to see.

Thistleburn 14th, Fireday

“Drop your weapons now, scum!”

Four armed man stared down Lyffed, whom had just scaled the rungs out of the underground tunnels leading into the cellar of the haunted house.

The elf politely declined, grabbed the rope, and rappelled back down. Just in time to witness a magnificently fashionable halfling emerge from a cloud of flour. That and six armed men fighting Rashomon, Gildree, and Marston.

A brutal skirmish ensued.

Rashomon the Death Dealer killed three of the armed thugs, and forced one to commit suicide. Gildree cleaved one in half. Wildcheeks perished within first ten seconds; he went down after being stabbed twice by a gluten intolerant thug.

Another unexpected ally appeared in a cloud of goose feathers! It was a cleric of Kadrim, The God of Small birds. He chirped and cheered in the background, as the party hacked their opposition to pieces.

Lyffed wasn't very successful with his attack. Heck, he couldn't even hack a dazed opponent. In fact, the man in question managed to defend himself. Upon coming back to his senses, he judged he'd be better off by fleeing into the dark tunnels. So he did.

Two more thugs descended down the rungs, only to be cornered by the superior might of these adventurers. To make it even worse, their “friends” above locked the trapdoor, getting them stuck with these murder-inclined people. Hence, they dropped their weapons and pleaded for mercy.

“Who do you serve and what are you looking for here?”

Rashomon went straight for the business. Marston took the stage and begun a loud monologue how he is the absolutely best mage. In the Wilderlands. Brent Goose cheered him on. Gildree frisked the corpses.

After a little bit of encouragement, the captive revealed they are mere swords-for-hire in the service of Klekless Racoba. The latter has been paying “small men the size of grown male's shin” to spy on all the merchant families, as well as queen's residence. He'd use that information to plunder the richest caravans.

Satisfied with the information, as well as the map they had recovered, the party decided to head back and report everything to the castellan.

Only one small issue.

Their only way out was locked. And what if more of these men were just waiting for them?

Well, Gildree The Brave and Strong scaled the rungs, and started bashing the jammed trapdoor. It took him a mere hour to get through. Much to the delight of elves below who threw casual insults like jabs.

Surprise!

No one greeted them upstairs. The party huddled, quickly navigated the streets of Hara to rejoin with members who took a day of rest—Eon, Helmuth, and Edimus—and then went straight to the citadel.

“The castellan will see you when he has time.”

Naturally, they had to wait until sundown.

“The name you mentioned. Are you sure that's the person whom you want to accuse as the main perpetrator?”

“Yes, Klekless Racoba. Our prisoners can corroborate our story.”

Two tied men nodded.

“Klekless is the headmaster of the Mage's Guild. And these are serious accusations. I'll ask you to stay in Hara until we confirm your findings.”

The ask was, of course, and euphemism for command in this case.

“Now, if you will return me the signet rings. Yes, good, yes, all five of them. You will be rewarded as promised—your full weight in gold coins.”

Thistleburn 20th, Spiritday

Adventurers had to wait six days to hear the final verdict. Brent Goose spent his time proselytising, feeding birds, and earning himself a moniker of “bird lady.”

Gildree took a very low profile, spent his time in the citadel barracks, and being cautious of everything. Marston did the opposite. He went carousing, telling everyone what a great mage he is.

Rashomon and Lyffed retreated into Poseidon's temple to train and meditate. They also spent time in deep conversations with acolytes and clerics.

On the sixth day since their report, a man charged them in the street, yelling profanities. The man was tackled by the guards. “Another one of the scum taken! You–” the captain of the guards pointed at Rashomon “Yes, you! The castellan demands your presence at the citadel. Now.”

This time the party did not have to wait to be admitted. In fact, the castellan barely gave them any time whatsoever.

“You were correct. We have sealed the tunnels. Unfortunately, Klekless Racoba has fled the city. I'm sure you made a very powerful enemy. Either way, thank you for your services. You are most welcome to stay in Hara and spend your earned coin here.”

The man left before they had much to ask—and seemingly ignored whatever else might've been pointed at him.

“What now?”

“Let's hit the streets and taverns!”

Harvestime 5th, Spiritday

Brent Goose continued his sermons in the streets of Hara. Lo and behold! He attracted ten followers! The worshipping circle of Kadrim grows! True holy leader he is, he crashed at his worshipper's place and consumed their food and drinks.

Rashomon, Lyffed, and Gildree spent their days at the Fighter's guild. Little interesting work was offered. Their efforts to recruit new members resulted in Gildree picking up a fistfight with wannabe-tough guy. The elf knocked out some of his teeth just for a good measure.

And how about Marston. Well, he continued boasting about his importance and success in busting this “spy ring that troubled the castellan for years!” The result? The Grand Wizard was kidnapped after one of his escapades, dragged into a windowless room, and interrogated about his true involvement with the spy ring.

How he got out of their grip alive is a bit unclear. Marston, of course, would tell you how he blasted them with his amazing powers.

“They melted before my very eyes, not even a one percent of my true power!”

The sun was up. People were in good mood. And our adventurers were getting bored.

That's never a good sign for the locals.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Harker	Fighter level 1	Top heavy hunk with skinny legs, wielding a massive great-axe with rose-motifs.
Rashomon	Elf level 1	A dangerous looking elf.

Later...

Character	Class	Description
Gildree	Elf level 1	Expat from far away land with a permanent scowl. Attempts to integrate with locals by carrying halberd and blood-red plate mail adorned with little skull motifs.
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 1	Imagine Conan as dwarf.

A bit later...

Character	Class	Description
Marston Dangon	Magic-user level 1	A tall man engulfed by large cloak with broad, stuffed shoulder pads. Hundreds of sewn fireflies make his cloak look alive.
Lyffed	Elf level 1	Thin and balding elf whom also happens to be Rashomon's friend.

Thistleburn 13th, Earthday

“Let's get the wounded out, recruit some more muscle and return.”

Rashomon proposed.

“Agreed!”

Harker replied.

Having left Eon, Edimus, and Helmut in the care of talented acolytes of Poseidon, the enterprising duo ran into two equally enterprising adventurers.

One was Hagar, a savage, extremely muscled dwarf. Heck, the former ironsmith couldn't hide all the bulging muscles even if his life depended on it.

Another man, or rather elf, was a real eye sore on the streets of Hara. He had the face of a person who disapproves of everything and everyone around him. His blood-red armour covered with little skulls did not make him any more approachable. Gildree was all he said.

Both Hagar and Gildree were delighted at the prospect of earning some coin by exploring a cellar of haunted house.

“Then come and follow us!”

And so the new quartet was ready to descend down the ladders that hurt Eon so badly. The party improvised an anchor for the rope. Newcomers weren't really informed of the dangers, but were generously encouraged to rappel down first, nonetheless.

Luckily for all involved, no new traps were triggered.

The party found themselves in a simple thirty by forty feet chamber. Solid-looking wooden doors were to the west, and dark passageway to north-east. The latter led into a long, dark corridor stretching to the left.

“Hmmm, I could hear a yawning sound behind the doors.”

“Let's ignore and move on.”

“But what if it is a monster and we get ambushed from behind?”

“Let's ambush it first!”

And so the party arranged themselves around the door, prepared to cut down whatever might lurk behind.

“Ready?”

“Open!”

A large, mean-looking mastiff starred down the wanna-be-ambushers, looking very unsurprised. The attackers rushed forward, finding themselves surrounded by four large canines.

One jumped on Harker, clawing and biting relentlessly. The young man fell down to the ground. The mastiff mauled him unconscious. At the same time, other two dogs took down Hagar, despite the dwarf's bulging muscles. In fact, he might've even lost some in the process...

“Uh, it looks a bit grim!”

Gildree unleashed his violence, leaping over the bodies of his fallen allies. He speared one of the dogs straight through the heart. Rashomon disemboweled the dog that dared charge him.

“You did your best, kid.” was the last thing Harker heard as the mastiff bit off his throat.

The two remaining elves fought for their lives, mopping up the surviving dogs.

“Hmmm... Let's get the wounded out, recruit some more muscle and return.”

Rashomon said.

“Wounded?”

Gildree asked, pointing at stiff Harker with gaping wound on his throat, and Hagar's tattered remains.

“The dwarf is still breathing.”

“For now.”

“Won't we look suspicious dragging two corpses through the streets?”

“Hmmm... You are right. Let's make it look like we are distressed and they need healing.”

“Grand plan.”

And so the two elves dragged two mangled bodies to the Temple of Poseidon.

“My good elf, you were here merely an hour ago. Who are these new people that require our assistance? And I'm sorry to say, but that young man looks like beyond saving.”

It didn't matter what the acolytes had to say, for Rashomon flashed the ring given to him by Hara's castellan, and the acolytes had to obey.

“Done. Now let's recruit few more talents like yourself Gildree.”

Lo and behold! Rashomon just happened to run into Lyfeed, an elven warrior priest from the same land as himself. It didn't take a lot of persuading to get him to join. Some details might have been omitted.

Like attract like. A tall man dressed in ominous looking cloak adorned with hundreds of fireflies approached the party. He was flanked by a stacked rottweiler responding to “Danny.”

“Marston Dangon, wizard looking for adventure.”

“Well, you found it!”

The new quarter returned to the cellar of the haunted house just as sun started to set.

“What happened here?”

“Nothing much. Few dogs lying in ambush. We easily dispatched them.”

“We?”

“Well, myself and the previous party.”

“Ahh, I see.”

The canine corpses were the only interesting thing in this, otherwise bare, chamber.

Moving down the dark corridor, the party encountered another sharp turn as well as closed doors. Peeking through revealed another small chamber—this time devoid of large mastiffs.

A simple table and four chairs were by the west wall. Four empty cups and small casket of wine rested on the table. A large lever on the south wall was set in the “up” position. The party carefully pushed it into “down” position using a pole.

Nothing happened.

Following the corridor they reached yet another hard turn. And then another. This time there were bloated doors opposite the corridor. One of the member gently broke through, sending them flying into a chamber full of debris. Offensive smell of rot and dampness assailed their nostrils.

“Screw this, let's move on.”

After half an hour or so of walking down the corridor the party encountered yet another hard turn. The corridors were mostly ten feet wide and some seven feet high. They were simple hewed affairs. Sometimes they'd run into pools of stale water. Some wall portions were damp.

Lighting torch after torch, the party moved down the corridors without rest. They ignored all the narrow passageways, opting to stick with the broader ones.

Unbeknownst to them, hours and hours passed.

“Doors!”

Indeed, they finally ran into something that wasn't a long, wet corridor.

“Can't hear anything...”

“Stuck...”

“Open gently!”

THUD! CRAAACK! THUD!

Another successful gentle opening, as attested by broken doors lying flat on the ground.

The party entered into a large fifty by thirty foot room. Another doors were on in the middle of north wall, two smaller doors were in the south-west and south-east corners respectively, and an open archway in the middle of south wall.

A long table dominated the room. It was surrounded by nineteen chairs. A large, fifteen by ten foot map dominated the west wall. Rashomon recognised what it was a map of—Hara.

Many buildings had weird symbols on them: circles, crosses, check marks, dots, and similar.

“Let's pack the map and get out. I'm sure castellan will appreciate this.”

All other doors didn't budge as well. Forcing the north doors open revealed yet another long corridors. Smaller door in the south-east corner on the other hand led revealed a small chamber.

A crude bed in the southeast corner, a shelf holding an unlit candle on the south wall, and a small closed chest on the floor in the northeast corner were all there is to it. It was the most lavish room they have encountered so far!

The party poured in, dreaming of treasure. Gildree opened the chest with a pole. A cloud of purple gas filled the room, dropping Rashomon and Marston.

“Oh, nice!”

Gildree recovered fifteen obsidian gems and seven rock crystals from the chest. Lyffed poked the prone bodies. They did not react. Listening closely, he could hear both were still breathing.

The duo closed the doors of the small chamber, and holed there until Rashomon and Marston awoke from their magical slumber.

Thistleburn 14th, Fireday

“I think now is really the time to go back!”

“Indeed!”

“But which way? We passed miles and miles of these twisting corridors...”

“Don't worry, for I have been mapping as we went!”

And thanks to Rashomon's fine notes, the party managed to find their way back to the chamber with ladders leading into the haunted house.

Lyffed scaled the rungs. No traps were activated in the process.

The elf was greeted by a number of sharp tips and scowling faces.

“Drop your weapons and slowly come out.”

Rashomon, Marston, and Gildree were engaged in banter, not paying close attention to what's happening above.

Suddenly the doors behind their back flung open, and six figures poured out.

“Drop your weapons, scum!”

“Do you know who I am!” Marston demanded “The mightiest mage you have ever met!”

“Are you mightier than Klekless Racoba?!” one of the armed men yelled back, unfazed.

“Who?”

“Drop your weapons now, scum!”

“Look how they butchered mu puppies! Let me gut them all!” a cracked voice could be heard in the background.

Lyffed prepared to grab the rope and rappel down in the chamber, unaware of the fact his friends have just been surprised.

Rashomon prepared his Magic Missile, Gildree tensed his halberd, and Marston still wondered who the hell is Klekless Racoba.

Will Rashomon have to recruit new adventurers after this encounter?

Or will this encounter spell the end of his worries?

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Harker	Fighter level 1	Top heavy hunk with skinny legs, wielding a massive great-axe with rose-motifs.
Edimus Gorgon	Cleric level 1	An elderly looking gentleman—despite his young age—dressed in long cape caked with dirt and grime. Worshipper of Pernatam, God of Sculptures.
Eon	Fighter level 3	Silent and imposing tall, wiry ebony man adorned with plate mail, orange scarf, and necklace of skeletal finger.
Hellmuth Mithaft	Fighter level 1	A bold mercenary with glorious red beard and pearly facial hair.
Rashomon	Elf level 1	A dangerous looking elf.

Thistleburn 13th, Earthday

“How about we visit that spooky house at the north edge of the town?”

“The one by Assassins' Guild?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, why not.”

A brisk walk, a bridge toll, and a loud nobleman later, the inquisitive quintet reached the dilapidated two story house that fit the description of various drunkards they've spoken with the previous day.

Most of the windows were caked with dirt and grime. Still, that did not prevent the party to circle it. They split up, and each individually tried to look like a casual local just going for a relaxing walk around supposedly haunted house in the shadiest part of the town. Nothing suspicious about that.

The entrance to the house was in the northwest corner of the building. The doors were broken off the hinges and were simply leaning onto the door frame. Two windows on the north side were caked with mud from the outside—it was impossible to see inside. Other windows revealed that insides are even worse looking than outsides. Dirt, dust, broken furniture, debris... you name it.

Following a brief discussion, the party set in motion their penetration plan. Rashomon and Edimus stood guard, inconspicuously of course, by the southwest corner. Harker, Eon, and Hellmuth subtly stormed the entrance hall of the building. Having found no opposition, they summoned the two guards to join them.

Since haunted houses are best explored individually, the party immediately split up.

Edimus followed the south corridor. He felt uneasiness as he approached the doors midway through. This was the entrance into the room with mud-stained windows...

Hellmuth returned the doors they gently removed from the frame. Eon added few iron spikes—a little trap for anyone trying to follow them from behind. Harker swept the floor, seeking who knows what.

Finally, Eon and Rashomon opened wide creaky double doors to the east. A decayed dinning room with a webbed skeleton in the northeast corner is what greeted them.

Edimus and Harker couldn't resist the call of the forbidden room, so they promptly entered. Alas, they were rewarded with few rotten books, parchments, and some candles. Harker did manage to recover a book of really bad poetry, though.

Hellmuth went further south, peeking into a room that was full of debris: broken bed frame, destroyed chairs, torn mattress and shredded cloths—all piled up by the south wall of the room. He could swear he could see some of the debris sliding on the floor. He moved on.

Eon and Rashomon, experienced adventurers they are, carefully approached the webbing.

“You know what this means?”

“Skeleton?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!”

“Treasure!”

The treasure being two large spiders lunging from behind the skeleton, one above it and one beneath it. Both were dispatched in a single round. Both spiders, that is. Scanning the room revealed no other treasure. Adjacent kitchen, in even worse shape, had even less to offer.

As Edimus neared the room with debris that Hellmuth just passed, he felt sick to his stomach once again.

“Something isn't right.”

Flying furniture pieces confirmed that suspicion. Cleric and fighter avoided them all, and quickly alarmed the rest of the party of the invisible danger.

Eon and Rashomon, experienced adventurers they are, quickly brought the dinning table—with Hellmuth's assistance, to block off the passage towards the room that was catapulting debris at them.

“Oh, I had enough! I'll cleanse this evil myself!”

Harker—perhaps trying to appease the Oathkeeper—ran around, through adjacent room, and into the room with levitating furniture.

“I'll turn it myself!” Edimus enthusiastically announced and ran with him.

“This kids will get killed without me!” Rashomon sighed and ran with them as well.

Eon and Hellmuth kept their mouths shut as they tried to keep the doorway shut.

“Begone evil spi–uh, I forgot they stole my holy sy–”

Edimus's forgetfulness was awarded with a flying furniture piece hitting him straight into the forehead. That sent him screaming back whence he came from.

“Reveal yourself, apparition!” Harker demanded.

Rashomon jumped into the center of the room and sprinkled holy water all around.

“Can't you see it, boy? It's right next to your pointy friend.” a stern voice boomed in Harker's head.

And indeed! He could see a vague human shape juggling broken furniture pieces and various debris.

“Begone!” the boy yelled as he cut it down in half. All levitating objects fell down to the ground.

Eon and Hellmuth tackled the screaming cleric. They pinned him and helped him come back to his senses with an array of modern soothing methods.

“Let's move on. We aren't done yet.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hey, we haven't checked these doors yet.”

South-most doors on the west side led into a small room with solid workbench and an assortment of tools for carpentry. A set of stairs around the corner led into a damp cellar.

“We should see what's in the basement.”

“Could you wait until I make myself a wooden holy symbol? I'll saw a small cow.”

Two hours and few cuts latter, Edimus had something resembling a cow. Kind of. Finally, the party descended into the darkness.

The large chamber was damp and smelly. Rotted shelves lined the west wall. Two doors were on the east wall. The first were bloated and nailed shut from the outside. The second were as plain as walls of Hara.

“Hmmm...”

There were a few benches in the alcove underneath the stairs. An orderly pile of firewood was arranged in the southeast corner. Both areas had significantly less dust.

By this time, Eon was getting impatient. He went for the bloated doors.

“That looks like someone tried to keep something inside. Perhaps we should start with other doors?”

So he opened the other doors, only to find what seemed to be a wine storage. Eight large barrels were neatly arranged in the southeast corner of the room. A dozen or so minutes later, the ebony warrior discovered a poorly concealed trapdoor. Iron handle was in a depression on the cover.

Unwilling to risk his fingers, the warrior jammed in an iron spike, and used the leverage to open the doors upwards. Stale air, dark hole, and rusty iron rungs descending into the darkness.

“Pass me the torch.”

Eon inhaled and went down.

Click.

Two scythes suddenly sprung and cut deep into his palms. Gritting his teeth, the warrior lost his grip, and fell into the darkness.

Rashomon was quick to react, and quickly scaled the ladder himself. He kept his blade out, just in case there were any other scythes to be triggered.

Click.

He picked up on the subtle sound just as he was about to step off the ladder. No scythes came out, but a chunk of debris fell from above. Although he managed to avoid some of it, the elf did not escape completely unscathed.

“Let me bind your wounds and then we'll get you out!”

When Eon fell down, his survival instincts kicked in and he immediately rolled to the side, seeking the safest spot to orient himself.

The ladder led into a dark chamber of hewn stone. A dark corridor was in northeast corner. Reinforced doors were in the northwest corner.

Rashomon tied a rope around Eon's waist, and then they pulled him up. The elf followed.

“Should we retreat, heal, and then return?”

“Whomever set these traps will know someone has been snooping around.”

“Maybe we should lay in ambush here?”

“How about we split? You go rest, while a few of us goes down to see what's there?”

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Comments

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Harker	Fighter level 1	Top heavy hunk with skinny legs, wielding a massive great-axe with rose-motifs.
Rashomon	Elf level 1	A dangerous looking elf.
Hellmuth Mithaft	Fighter level 1	A bold mercenary with glorious red beard and pearly facial hair.
Eon	Fighter level 3	Silent and imposing tall, wiry ebony man adorned with plate mail, orange scarf, and necklace of skeletal finger.
Edimus Gorgon	Cleric level 1	An elderly looking gentleman—despite his young age—dressed in long cape caked with dirt and grime. Worshipper of Pernatam, God of Sculptures.

Thistleburn 10th, Spiritday

Two weeks of toiling everyday on bringing the Elder Temple, as well as Dontrap's small abbey, to their former glory.

Harker spent all his coin, and strained all his muscles, abiding the three voices from a giant two-handed sword he had recovered from the ruins of the Elder Temple.

Although the voices refuse to reveal their name, they did divulge that the sword's name is Oathkeeper.

Young and mighty warrior was now seen as an authority figure in the desolate thorp called Dontrap. Alas, that brought him nothing but more work in form of resolving petty squabbles between few inhabitants still living there.

But one thing became obvious to Harker: there just isn't enough manpower nor resources in Dontrap to restore either of the temples to their former glory.

“Oh mighty Paladins, may I venture into richer lands to find means to restore these amazing temples?”

“You may, as long as you keep your Oath. We will be watching.”

“My Lords, do you have an idea where should I go?”

“The Majestic City-State of Satur lies just several hundred miles south of here.”

“Uh, that's a bit far.”

Pantro, the local “merchant” reminded Harker of Hara, a trade hub just two days of brisk walking from Dontrap.

“Just follow the river Farhills downstream—you can't miss it!”

“Hara it is!”

And so did Harker recruit Rashomon, a drunk elf; Edimus, a brooding man of faith; Eon, an ebony slab of granite; and Hellmuth, an opportunistic mercenary.

The party of five set out from Dontrap with the first light of Thistleburn 10th, Spiritday.

Springing from the white peaks of the Madcat Mountain and Bludgeon Peak, river Farhills lazily rolls through the Midnight Goddess Hills, and spills into the bay south of Vigil Sound. Wide and calm, the party easily found it.

“Halt!”

It was-mid day during Thistleburn, the hottest month of the year, with very little shade in sight.

“Up ahead...”

Around hundred or so yards up ahead a group of forearm-sized naked humans were frolicking at the river bank. They were of various different colours, and were having a jolly good time.

“Let's hide and observe.”

Voyeurism paid off, for the party got to count the number of creatures: two dozens. Most looked female or feminine, and were making little crowns of flowers and lilies by the river.

“Let's avoid them. In a wide berth.”

They avoided in the really wide berth.

And then they camped for the night.

Thistleburn 11th, Airday

“Get up, footsteps in the night!”

Eon kicked Hellmuth awake.

Rashomon, Edimus, and Harker were soon awake as well.

Just in time to hear a shout from the darkness:

“You are surrounded! Who are you and what is your business here!”

Opting for non-violent resolution methods, the party discovered they were travelling through territory safeguarded by Hara's forces. This specific patrol was headed Evert, whom was happy to escort the party to Hara for 60 gold coins.

All of the guards had the same shield: polished white body with cloudberry bordure. Bull sigil dominated the center.

The party spent the day trying to learn as much as possible about the region from Evert. Apparently he doesn't reside in Hara but castle just north-east from it. Tagoler is the commander, and is in charge of securing everything between the river, Midnight Goddess Hills and the bay. Their resources are strained, and they haven't had enough people to explore recent freaky reports from the hills.

Hara is ruled by the Omniscient Red Queen, Earani Cor. Haermond II serves as both Hara's castellan and general of the forces. Tagoler reports to him. In fact, he approves all expeditions as well, including those from mercenaries and adventuring parties.

Once again the party resorted to non-violent persuasion methods with great success. For a small bribe of one tiny agate Evert agreed to introduce the quintet to the Haermond II. Little did he know how much was he risking.

The party arrived to Hara by river barges by nightfall.

They were housed in the citadel barracks.

Two corpses were hanging in front of the citadel, stinking up the market square.

“Scoundrel of the worst kind. They came into our wonderful city, insulted our people, and then slit the throats of four guards. Good boys they were! Rest assured, we know how to deal with criminals.”

Thistleburn 12th, Waterday

“Lord of The Castle will meet you now.”

All five members were summoned in a spartan war room. Large table dominated the space, whilst regional and city map dominated the west wall.

Haermond II behaved and spoke as a person who has too much to get done to bother with cordiality for too long. He was dressed in simple but functional clothes. If it were not for an amazing ring with bulls signet and sword with lavishly decorated sword pommel, he could've been easily mistaken for a commoner.

“Hara thrives on trade. We have established a center of civilisation in the very heart of Barbarian Altanis. Everyone is envious of us and is working tirelessly to bring us ruin.”

“In the past few months we have had a sharp increase of caravan raids—both on the land and the sea. I'm sure we have a spy ring operating in the city!”

“Here is why I believe so. First, the raiders are always at the right place, even when we vary the route. Second, the raiders somehow seem to know which caravans are less guarded than the others. And third, they have avoided all the traps we have set up for them.”

“The situation is getting to a boiling point. Affluent families are accusing each other, myself, the Queen... I need a group of capable outsiders to get to the bottom of this. Somebody who is unknown to local figures of power, new and old.”

“Are you the right people?”

“Of course! Can you tell us a bit more... About... Uh... Payment?”

“As much gold coin as you can carry.”

“We are your people.”

“You have two weeks to solve this. Here are the rings with my personal sigil on them—show them to any guard or local business to be granted access and service. Break the law and your necks will be broken too. You have two weeks to sort this out.”

Haermond II spent a few more minutes answering the newly hired detectives' barrage of questions, until he had enough:

“You are smart guys. I'm sure you'll figure it out.” and with those parting words he left off to deal with even more important matters.

The party learned about three most affluent merchant families: Imraell, the oldest and wealthiest; Namelin, the ruthless; and Pilter; the young upstarts focused on entertainment. In castellan's opinion none of the families haven anything to gain by sabotaging each other, but hey, everything is possible these days.

“How should we tackle this?”

“Let's split and visit different places to ask around.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Daddy Rashomon dolled out coins to poorer party members so they have enough to grease the locals. And off they went.

Harker went to the Black Eagle tavern, Hellmuth to the notorious Partihouse tavern, Eon to the Fighter's Guild, while Rashomon and Edimus visited Forsetti's temple.

Too much has transpired on these individual adventures for one scribe to capture, but we know that the party learned the following. An increase in raids led to mercenary prices sky-rocketing; each family has been accusing each other; Namelin family is quite litigious and has been suing everyone, including the castellan and Queen; there is a “spooky house” at the edge of the northern district; and the frequency of raids has been steadily increasing.

After a full day of intelligence gathering, the party had agreed to head to different inns, to hopefully overhear some rumours there as well.

Harker went for the luxurious Circled Star inn managed by a family of four dwarves. He was promptly kicked out after attempting to bargain. So he went to The Castle inn, and spent the night with Rashomon. Helmuth and Eon went to the Dragonslayer's inn, and had good time there.

Finally, Edimus went to the Night House, just to the right after you cross the bridge into the Northern district. He woke up without his holy symbol anywhere in sight. And then he had to pay the toll to cross the bridge. But he managed to meet up with the party at the market square just in time.

“We have nine days left. What shall we do?”

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Ad'wi the Round	Thief level 1	A genial dark skinned man, with a large round belly poking out from his blue waistcoat.
Salvatore Glowworm	Magic-user level 1	Long black hair combed over a balding spot accentuates his thin moustache, both in service of his dreams of uncovering secrets of long lost kingdoms.
Boots Febalem	Magic-user level 1	Shabby looking man of mystery. His tattered clothes reveal many scars.
Ripos Wildcheeks	Halfling level 3	A halfling of style as attested by his loose fitting white blouse, silky cravat, and red cap.
Norwell	Thief level 1	A finely dressed slim fellow of few words. Carries the scar of betrayal.

One summer day in Altanis

“Finally! Here it is!”

Hara, The Stronghold City of Alyrian Merchants. That's how those who live off of it call it in proud banter.

Hara, The Seat of Red Bitch. That's how those subjugated by it call it in whispering cowardice.

Hara, The Palace of Traitor Baroness. That's how the Altanians call it in roaring rage.

The party of five unlikely allies stood in front of the walled oasis of civilisation in the heart of Barbarian Altanis.

Ad'wi the Round, an agile bundle of charm with sticky fingers; Salvatore, a wizard in search of secrets; Boots, a magician accompanied by a hound he calls Flip; Ripos Wildcheeks, a halfling knight riding a mule; and Norwell, a master thief exiled from Antil for his antics.

The party queued to be granted passage into the walled city. Their names, as well as one gold coin per person, were collected. Or so some people say. Others, who don't like heroic tales but prefer gritty realism instead, claim that the party grovelled and begged because they were too poor to buy their entrance. One of them even pulled out a rotting finger of supposedly famous “Rhovar” and tried to use it as a bargaining currency! Whatever might be true, one thing is certain—the unsuspecting guards let the party in.

“Where shall we go to?”

“Maybe explore the city a bit? Follow the walls to the south and see what we discover?”

“We should find some work to do.”

“There is a money changer up ahead. How about we pop in and ask some questions.”

Obese Blob, protected by iron bars and two guards with halberds, politely explained that all coin entering into Hara must be reported to him. After he counts the coins, he will provide them a letter authorising their use in Hara. Of course, he will take 5% for tax—brilliant system designed to keep the city clean and safe!—and additional 5% for his service—brilliant system to keep his house clean and safe!

“Perhaps we could offer our assistance with... collecting?” Ad'wi offered with a grind and a wink.

“Ha ha ha!” Blob replied with a belly lough so loud even Ripos's mule recoiled. “I like your thinking boy! But tell me, do you have a licence for that? You need a licence for everything in Hara!”

“And where would I get such a licence?”

“Thieves' or Fighters' Professional Association, of course!”

“Of course!”

South the party went, scanning the buildings and peering through peoples' windows and doors like creeps. While standing at one T-shaped junction, a group of rowdy dwarves passing by noticed the halfling. One of the dwarves started pointing at Ripos, grabbing the attention of his dwarven friends.

“What?!” Ripos just flipped him a bird, while mounted on his majestic mule.

The dwarf in question burst into tears, bawling. Other dwarves tried to console him, whilst giving Ripos a mean look.

Salvatore and Boots noticed a symbol of silver flask on a large two-story dwelling. “That looks like the mark of Dyrantil, patron of alchemy. Shall we go in?”

Norwell joined them. Ad'wi stayed outside to polish the boots of passerbys. Ripos remained seated on his mule.

“Welcome. How may I help you?” an old woman greeted the trio in raspy voice. The place indeed looked like an alchemical workshop. After some back and forth the party had learned that the alchemist works for the queen, that she used to be an adventurer, and that she thinks very, very little of the local Wizard's Trade Association.

“Do you have any hooks for us?”

“I'm sure you can buy them at the market square.”

Being curious about the wizard tower, and having nothing but alchemist's description that it looks like “a stiff cock just like the stone-heads inside,” the party decided to ask around about it.

“Oh yes, it does look a bit like that. Although, I wouldn't dare to comment on the people inside! Go north until you run into a river. Then you should be able to see it.”

“And what is this large building of white marble next to us?”

“That's our Temple of Justice! All matters, big and small, get resolved here.”

“Let's check it out.”

Although morning, the temple was already bustling with activity. Many people were queuing, most likely to air their grievances or face trial. One trembling individual caught Ad'wi's attention.

“What troubles you young man?”

“I've been framed. Framed. How could I know? I was just protecting myself! The house is haunted! He just jumped on my blade! It is not my fault!”

“A haunted house? Tell us more about it... Maybe we could help you out!”

The man's eyes lit up and he jumped off the bench with elan.

“Cleric! Cleric!” he started yelling like a mad man, waving at one of the acolytes organising the crowd.

“What's happening here?!”

“He has proof that I am not mad! He will save me!”

“First, stop yelling or everybody goes on trial. Second, is that true?”

“No, this man is truly insane. You should, I don't know, hang him right now.”

“We have abandoned such barbaric ways long ago. First we have a trial. Then we quarter them.”

The party promptly left. Then they worked their way north, seeking the phallus of erudition. On their way the passed the Fighter's Guild, a bunch of residential dwellings, several craftsmen, the Dragon's Lair inn, and a Partihous.

Loud music and rowdy yelling could be heard from the Partihous, despite not even being noon. Ad'wi took a look behind the establishment, hoping to find some unconscious patrons. Alas, dried vomit and rancid pools was all that was.

A finely dressed woman ran into the party. She stopped the moment she saw this weird looking bunch. She covered her mouth. Her scowling faces of disapproval said more than any words she could've chosen. Few select words from Ad'wi did not land well with her at all, and she fled in terror.

“Good man, we are looking for a phallic tower that houses some wizards. Could you please point us in the right direction?”

The bearded man just had to point across the river. The tower looked just like the alchemist described it. The party approached it with speed.

“Here we are.”

“That's them! The barbarians!”

The party could hear a screeching voice behind them. A woman, whom Ad'wi immediately recognised, was marching with eight armoured and armed men towards them. The round thief winked to her, to the party, and disappeared into the alleyways.

Boots slipped into another alleyway, pretending to care for Flip. Rips dismounted his mule and hid behind it. Standing still. Norwell was overcome with deja-vu. Salvatore tried to talk to the guards.

“He is with them! He is with them!” the woman screamed.

“We'll take care of it now.” two guards tried to calm her. “You have to pay twelve gold coins for disturbing peace.”

“I have nothing to do with that man!”

Alas, the guards could not be persuaded. Again, depending on whose story you might be hearing, Salvatore was either misunderstood or very rebellious. The guards would say how he insulted them, Hara, their queen, their civilised ways. They had no other options but to apprehend him. The other guy, whose name they've already forgotten, was quite and collaborative. He was probably just an innocent passerby whom they picked up by accident. But the loud guy? They regret for not silencing him on time.

Either way, the guards escorted Salvatore and Norwell to the citadel by the great river Fairhills. Boots and Ripos followed them, looking for an opening to save their friends. And Ad'wi? He found some loose clothes and disguised himself into a large woman with a burqa.

Bustling market square, full of booths, stalls, merchants and locals sprawled in front of the citadel. Large double gates were open, and portcullis locked in upright position.

“Ripos, listen, I have a plan. If you can cause commotion, I can hide to the side and put some of the guards to sleep. Are you up for it?”

Heck, Boots didn't even have time to finish sharing his plan. Ripos already put a small sack with two little holes on his head, mounted the mule, and started causing wild ruckus in the middle of the square. The mule thrashed and thrashed, kicking stalls and people over.

Ad'wi charged round the citadel, as close to the river bank he could. There he realised that the prisoners were guided to a rowboat. A small island stood in the middle of the river. There was the main citadel, the palace, and one more large building.

“Not so loud now, eh?” one of the guards provoked Salvatore as they were rowing the boat. That was enough to get the magician ranting again. Norwell was quiet all the time, just sighing heavily.

A dozen or so guard came out of the citadel to check on the pandemonium taking place at the market square. Wildcheeks kicked over a baker's stall, so there were several flour clouds out and about, making the whole scene even more chaotic than it was. Boots performed the arcane ritual in as much secrecy as he could. Most of the guards dropped to the ground—sans two of them.

Simultaneously, Salvatore used the guards' ignorance to his advantage. They left him untied and unmuffled. He quickly switched from ranting to uttering words of power. All four guards on the rowboat fell into deep slumber.

“Grab the oars! I'll slit their throats once we are outside of the archers' range.”

Ad'wi unleashed a single arrow. It landed straight into the heart of a guard waiting for the rowboat's arrival at the island. He fell face first into the river.

Norwell sighed heavily.

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Following records of Fra Nevjest were recovered after his untimely death.

Written by Fra Nevjest's player.

Episode 1

Session 47

Fra Nevjest is a cleric of Kodeus, God of Dexterity, Thieves and other minor bits and bobs. Actually, he’s a wanna-be cleric. In as much as the young fellow is intelligent (15) and wise (16), his dexterity is lacking (5) after his uncle, seeking to enhance the family gene, experimented on him in infancy: praying to Kodeus for a stronger bloodline. Kodeus, ever a humorous god, gifted Fra with a Bump of Direction, which is imbedded between his ears… but in exchange left the babe with a rather low level of dexterity (minus 6 to what it was). The uncle, feeling guilty for his experimentation on a family member that would never be condoned by the Clerical Society of the Astral Planes, grandfathered him into the service of Kodeus (or maybe uncle was just getting his own revenge on the deity?).

Fra is a willing servant, lively and healthy, but rather unable to tie his caligulae without making a knot or three. Being no fool, and realising that only Kodeus can reverse his condition, Fra seeks to ingratiate himself in the lawful side of the brotherhood and wishes to catch Kodeus’ eye, preferably favourably...

In his first foray away from the abbey, he has agreed to help 3 brothers: Fitzedward (a veteran fighter), Doud and Hobart (less than bright peasants) in looking for their sister and her husband, kidnapped by some miscreant evil elders. In the process of seeking the decrepit burial temple where the elders have holed up, he makes the acquaintance of Orda, a lawful Mongolic fighter, who seems to enjoy battle cries that sound more like a mammoth in labour and Orion, a chaotic thief, who embarrassingly shares the same deity and is as weaselly as … as… well… a weasel.

A walk from the village pub brings the party into marvellous fields and forests that eventually give way to a large hill, atop which are ruins of the elder’s temple. There seem to be three entrances, two are lower down and barrow like, while the third, the grand entrance is a set of huge iron doors with a carved symbol of law, now circled with drawings of chaos. In better times it was a resting place for great templars and clerics. Concerned the doors could slam behind of us, we sought the SW barrow, a simple access carved in lawful runes.

As they entered the tunnel, a large blue apparition rose out of the ground. They engaged it with respect and learned with relief it was lawful. The figure lamented the condition of the temple and sought their help to cleanse it of the evil elders who had desecrated and occupied the place. Fra and Orda jumped at the opportunity and even offered to help reconsecrate it. They were offered tools to complete the quest on condition these were returned at the end. While this conversation went on, Orion avoided the lawful exchange and scurried off to explore.

Fra and Orda each entered sarcophagi rooms occupied by dead clerics and paladins respectively. Fra found a brooch that would protect him from evil, while Orda got a sword. They thanked the dead and prayed for them. Entering a 3rd room, they found desecrated sarcophagi, collected the bones and tried to put them in the right place, praying again. Meanwhile 2 giant rats assailed Orion and the brothers, the rats were slain with minor difficulty.

They continued exploring, entering a large pillared room. To the south was a corridor with two guardian stone cats, which Fra went up to admire and pat. Orion, fearing a trap wormed past them on his belly. They entered a brightly decorated room with a 3-panel sarcophagus in an offshoot. Orion rushed to a huge gem set therein. Fra warned him off taking it, but was distracted by a scream far behind. As they rushed back to the main corridor, Fra saw the little thief palm the gem out of the corner of his eye … he ground his teeth in disgust.

The horrible sound came from Doud, dying under the claws of a tusked being, covered in wrinkled decaying skin. Fitzedward and Orda slew it.

The party continued through more passages. At one point Fra went on a ways, to guard the passage, while Orda and Orion checked another painted room, bright yellow with patterns and dice painted on the ceiling. A very narrow passage led off to an alcove and Orion squeezed into it, encountering 4 waist height stone balls in shallow depressions, one at each corner of the limited space. Hoping for treasure, he struggled to move the balls and 4 centipedes eventually came out from under one to assail him viciously. Three died under his struggles but the fourth climbed up his pantaloons and bit his privates, putting paid to one of the pair… Orda reached in and dragged him forth, punching him in the groin and crushing the interloper… Orion was greatly diminished (sic) and ill from the poison and pain, but he dragged himself after us rather than return alone to the surface.

Orda and Fra chanced onto a series of rooms, again beautifully decorated. Fitzedward followed, prepared for combat while Hobart carried a torch and Orion hobbled in the rear. The last room dedicated to Aeblos, also contained an ugly statue. Fra approached and the statue hissed and came to life in reaction to the brooch. The group fought it and brought it down. As it fell, shouts for help were heard and a narrow passageway was found leading to a small prison room where the missing couple were shackled to the wall. The heroes released them and the family (what remained of it) was gratefully reunited.

The group left the temple, but not without assuring the blue apparition that they would return to keep their promise.

Episode 2

Session 48

After two weeks resting in Dontrap, a desolate hamlet on the far reaches of the Borderlands, the adventurers sallied forth to return to the temple. Fra, Orda, Orion were again joined by the brothers Fitzedward and Hobart as well as a new colleague, Tamren, a well accoutred Paladin of Coriptis, God of war.

The Fra strode bravely forth, confidence growing from having survived his first delve into the depth of chaos. The party marched across the meadows and fields leading to their destination. Suddenly there came a loud beating of wings as a monstrous eagle swooped on Orda and injured him. The party lagged in its surprise. The eagle had time to lunge for another prey and this time hooked its talons into the Fra’s chainmail, pinning him to the ground. Shaken with surprise, the Fra did not react, hoping his colleagues would strike the fowl fiend and rescue him. They indeed struck the eagle but did not get it to relax its hold. With little effort, the bird lifted the Fra into the air, 160 feet or more… Arrows thudded into it and with a squawk, the bird of prey dropped the Fra… Fra’s last thoughts were “why am I so clumsy?” as he plummeted earthwards and died (16 x d6 damage…).

The Fra’s eyes fluttered open, his head and body ached as if he had been dropped from a great height. How was he alive? He looked around the little temple and saw the old priest who resided there. “Your colleagues thought you were worth the effort of one of the Revive Dead scrolls I had in our meagre treasury. You are fortunate, firstly that the scroll still worked and secondly that you weren’t your colleague Orion, who your colleague’s opted not to save”.

Muttering a prayer of thanks to Kodeus, the Fra re-joined his friends. After his death, the party had been attacked by Altarian barbarians, as the party returned to Dontrap. They were all slain, but at the cost of Orion and Hobart. The party had now been joined by Bright Goose, who looked a little like Orion, with his flaming hair and his odd predilection for all things avian.

The group walked back to the temple, with the Fra nervously scanning the heavens. It was decided to re-engage in the original passage in the hopes of meeting the Guardian again. But there was consternation and disappointment as the apparition was gone and the sarcophagi in all the rooms they had visited were now desecrated and smeared with blood. The entered the skeleton room that had held skeletons – all were shattered. One of the cat statues was broken, as if it had received one or more blows. A little further in was the passage to the sarcophagi that Orion had stolen the gem from. A cat blocked the access and it would appear that it was indeed a guardian and had fought off whatever evil had entered. The Fra immediately went to pat the statue and passed around it into the sarcophagi room. Opening a panel, he found therein two bags. One contained a huge bright green sphere, the other held gold coins and a mace. The Fra called back to his colleagues for advice. Take it all they said, we’ll need everything we can to cleanse this nest of evil. As he withdrew the sacks, the sphere and the gold disappeared, leaving him with light, well balanced mace.

The party returned to the main corridor and explored a dead end or two before finding a narrow passage to the east. Tamren and the Fra followed it into a small room. Two wrinkled creatures shied back from the torch the Fra held. Tamren charged in striking at one of the mole men, while Fra courageously rushed at the other. While Tamren dismembered his adversary, the Fra repeatedly lived up to his lack of dexterity missing his opponent 4-5 time. Ultimately the mole man won through, gouging the Fra badly and claiming his left eye. The Fra was healed in combat but continued missing the mole man who hit him again. Tamren clove the creature, to the Fra’s relief and exhaustion. Tamren found a ring and 11 gp from the rotting remains.

The Fra wondered if he would have been better off dead after all… was Kodeus laughing at him?

Episode 3

Session 49

Bright Goose healed Fra to the best of his abilities, but the damage was serious. Resigning himself to the fickle humour of Lord Kodel, Fra vowed to carry on. In the main corridor, the party encountered a solitary fighter, Harkir, who was welcomed into the party.

A cursory revisit to the narrow corridor revealed nothing but another empty room. Re-engaging in the main passageway, the party came to a forking passageway with strong soot marks on the ground and smell in the air. Heading north they followed a spiralling path which narrowed and forked again. Taking the left-hand fork and following the heavier soot trail, the adventurers came upon a larger room, another dead end. It contained a large, broken, white statue with thousands of coins at its feet, around it were three black statues, abominations similar to the one encountered when Fitzedward’s sister was rescued. The statues charged the party as did a sudden apparition, a dense cloud of soot with a pair of burning eyes pulsing form it. The combat was fierce. Fra’s attempts to dispel the soot creature and to use the brooch failed – perhaps not undead? Fra was hit and fell back. Harker and Oda did their best but could not destroy the adversaries – the soot creature was strangling Orda in a cloud of… soot. Fitzedward leapt in and with amazing skill overcame all 4 horrors. The soot demon exploded in a massive cloud depositing a very thick coat of soot across the room.

As the party caught its breath Fra went to the statue and prayed. He noted a large sword inside, which he sought to extract, to no avail. The weapon carried medallions of a feathered bird, a horse and a resting dragon on its hilt. Fra also recovered his brooch, with extraordinary good fortune.

While this was going, Harker retraced his steps to bring Tamren and Bright Goose to join the party. He discovered them fighting a group of naked maniacs whipped forth by two molemen. Thinking quickly, Harker told Tamren and Bright to withdraw, while he threw oil at the fiends. Thrice he smote them and each time burned one to death. The survivors fled momentarily, allowing Harker to fall back. As he looked over his shoulder, a vast collection of maniacs was rushing towards him and flowing up the corridor that led to where the white statue was.

The monstrous wave hit Orda, Fitz and Fra, who were almost caught unawares. The trio fought furiously, killing the first four, but all succumbed. Fra’s last vision was a filthy hand gouging out his surviving eye. With a sigh Fra fell to the ground, dead. In his mind’s eye he saw Kodel laughing insanely at him, but he also had a strange vision of an elf in in some odd and unrecognisable armour surrounded in light. Then, he was no more.

As Orda died, he sank his Phoenix Sword into the floor and a great gout of flame erupted and incinerated the attackers like a gust of volcanic wind.

Harker, Bright and Tamren cautiously scouted back to the statue room, seeking survivors. There were only charred remains and even the coins had all melted and fused together. Harker noticed that the lawful statue remained, as did the sword. He reached in and withdrew it, a fine two-handed weapon. Suddenly voices boomed out in his head. “This sword will help you, but you will be unable to release it or leave this temple before you have cleansed it, reconsecrated it and returned it to its former glory”. The spirits revealed the lay-out of the temple and directed the survivors to a room nearby, with a fountain of holy water flowing into a pool – a place of sanctuary.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Orda	Fighter level 3	Very lawful and very goodly Karakan warrior from far east with bushy red mane and beard.
Fra Nevjest	Cleric level 1	A rather clumsy devotee of Kodeus, the gnarly God of Dexterity and Patron Deity of Thieves.
Harker	Fighter level 1	Top heavy hunk with skinny legs, wielding a massive great-axe with rose-motifs.

Later...

Character	Class	Description
Rashomon	Elf level 1	A dangerous looking elf.
Haleth	Elf level 2	An albino elf with bright red eyes.

Sunstrong 19th, Fireday

“Agh!”

Fra Nevjest was cupping his bleeding wound. Mere moments ago a disgusting mole-like humanoid create had gouged out his eye.

“Stay calm.” Tamren healed the wound, but alas, from now on Fra Nevjest will be an one-eyed cleric.

The party briefly explored other narrow corridors, finding nothing but empty, dusty chambers. They returned to the main corridor...

“Who goes there?”

“Harker!”

“I'm Orda, a great warrior! We are here to purge this temple of all evil! Do you want to join us!”

“Yes!”

And so the party grew by adding another great warrior. They traversed the wide corridor, deeper into the desecrated temple.

Soon they encountered a T-shaped junction. The path to the left was much rougher hewn-stone tunnel. The ground was covered in ash and soot, with many footprints leading in and out.

“Tamren, Brent Goose, could you stand guard here while we explore the dark tunnel?”

“Yes.”

Orda took the front, Fra Nevjest with torch right behind him, Harker watching the one-eyed cleric's back, and Fitzedward watching his back.

The quarter carefully advanced. The tunnel was winding and twisting. The deeper they went, the more did ash and soot cover every surface visible. Ground, walls, ceiling. Everything.

“Might it be something explosive?”

Another split. Ash and soot to the left, nothing up ahead. A clean tunnel—not even a single sooty footstep.

“Let's keep following the ash trail.”

And so they went deeper, following the twisting pathway. It was getting narrower and narrower by each step, forcing the party to advance in a single file formation with little space to navigate.

“Stop!”

Orda could see the tunnel turning sharply to left. The turn was almost at the right angle.

“Pass me the torch, and I'll take a peek.”

Leaning around the corner, Orda could see the following:

An irregular chamber, approximately fifteen by fifteen feet, dominated by a tall white marble statue in north-west corner. Thousands of coins laid at its feet.

Several ash clouds ash floating around a human-shaped creature. It had only one leg, black skin, burning red eyes, and was levitating just by the broken statue.

Three black stone statues similar to the one that had attacked Fra Nevjest earlier.

One of the statues lunged at peeking Orda.

“Charge!”

The quartet forced their way into the small chamber, each facing one opponent. Karakan warrior went for the red-eyed demon, while the others focused on stone statues.

It was a brief, but brutal skirmish.

Ash demon was navigating clouds of ash, using them to attack Orda. The warrior managed to cut off the monster's arm, only to be rewarded by a huge cloud of ash and soot.

Black mass was alive, crawling up his skin and forcing itself into his mouth, nostrils, eyes, and all other orifices. Orda endured it heroically, although none of his subsequent attacks connected.

Fra Nevjest's turning attempt were as impotent as his melee attacks.

Harker's attacks often landed, but failed to do much.

Fitzedward was the true star of this battle, for he felled stone statue one by one. This in turn made the ash demon focus on him. Remembering his dead brother Doud, Fitzedward took a swing and beheaded the demonic creature.

The monster imploded into a black ball, inhaled all the ash and soot, and then billowed it out in great explosion. When everything settled, the party found themselves knee deep in ash.

“This was for you brother. Rest in peace.” Fitzedward shook his sword and cleaned it of remaining soot.

“Wow, look at this statue.”

A tall, bearded man holding a sphere, made of white marble. Gaping hole in his chest revealed a pommel of a large sword. A medallion was resting on the hilt. Three creatures were engraved on it: a horse, a phoenix, and a dragon.

More than six thousand coins were resting at the foot of the statue; now covered in ash and soot.

Orda and Fra Nevjest started sorting through it, Fitzedward wasn't too interested but was helping out anyway, and Harker went back to report to the guarding party of Tamren and Brent Goose.

“Oh my!”

Tamren stood at the centre of T-junction, a pile of bones and skeletal remains under his feet. Brent Goose was just behind him, brandishing his weapon and holy symbol.

“What's happening?”

Harker ran up to them. And then he found his answer before any of the two had the chance to speak.

A tunnel to his left was full of deformed humans, each covered in dried blood, excrement, and other filth. Their claws suggested these creatures might be less human than they appear.

“Fall back! Fall back!”

The trio ran down the wide corridor they had entered through. Harker yelled insults at the monsters, hoping to attract some of them.

Alas, they all ignored him and went into the ash covered tunnel.

Orda, Fra Nevjest, and Fitzedward were woefully unaware of any of this.

“Ignore this!”

Harker ran back and chucked a burning oil flask straight into one of the monstrous human. It fell down to the ground, a mix of crispy and charred. Other horrors immediately begun feasting on its warm corpse.

“Here's more!”

Downing a second one was enough to get the attention of those that still hadn't gone into the ash-laden tunnel. They went for Harker instead.

“Uh-oh.”

The sole warrior took care of them.

Orda dropped a sack filled with coins. He heard their footsteps before he could see or smell them. He took out his Phoenix blade just in time for one of the deformed humans to run straight into it.

Fra Nevjest smashed the head of yet another one. Orda cleaved another one in half.

“Go for the leader!” Orda roared, seeing how a squat, monstrous mole-man seemingly pushing other deformed humans right in front of it.

But his words fell on deaf ears.

Cannibals swarmed the chamber. Two wrestled Fitzedward, while the third ripped out his throat. Another jumped on Fra Nevjest and gouged out his other eye. Screaming, the cleric was forced to the ground. His suffering was ended by blunt force trauma.

Orda, tired and injured from previous encounter with ash demon, took his last stand in the centre of the chamber. His red mane swung as wildly as his sword. Blood gushed wherever the blade went.

Alas. Alas. The sea of hateful flesh surrounding him was too much. Squat mole-man delivered a blow which forced the Karakan warrior to his knees. He could feel the sword trembling in his hand. It wasn't his dying body abandoning him. No. The sword was actually trembling more and more by the second. The phoenix on it started to get bright red.

Orda turned the sword around and stabbed it straight into the ground.

“I must go back!”

A huge explosion threw Harker down to the ground. The whole dungeon shook with great intensity, and a ball of flame roared out of the ash-laden tunnel.

“Orda! Fra! Fitz!”

Harker ran into the tunnel, despite the explosions moments ago. He ignored all the charred corpses and pulverized remains. Dozens of them.

“No! No...”

Marble statue still stood.

Melted Karakan splint mail covered charred remains of kneeling warrior.

Everything else was unrecognisable.

“Purge.”

“Huh?”

Harker heard a trio of voices. But there was no one present?

“Here.”

The hole in the statue was bigger than before—surely a side effect of the explosion. The giant two-handed sword was now truly visible in all its glory.

Amazed, Harker approached it. He put his rose-covered great battle axe on his back, and took out the sword.

“You will purge this temple.” a masculine voice boomed.

“You will cleanse it of evil.” a deep voice commanded.

“You will restore it to its former glory.” a stern voice ordered.

“I will.” Harker answered.

And he did.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Tamren	Cleric level 3	Stoic paladin of Coriptis, the Goddess of Battle and Inamorata of Berserkers. Aventail hides all but his two piercing blue eyes.
Orion	Thief level 3	Very chaotic and very desperate for money. His bright red pony-tail is so long he could sweep the floor with it.
Orda	Fighter level 3	Very lawful and very goodly Karakan warrior from far east with bushy red mane and beard.
Fra Nevjest	Cleric level 1	A rather clumsy devotee of Kodeus, the gnarly God of Dexterity and Patron Deity of Thieves.

Later...

Character	Class	Description
Brent Goose	Cleric level 3	An eccentric, but charismatic, cleric seeking the Holy Bird. White robes and black cloak conceal his tall, frail and anemic frame. His eagle-like nose is exposed for all to see.

Sunstrong 9th, Fireday

The party spent two weeks resting at Dontrap, a hamlet sitting by the fork of the great River Fairhills, fed by a stream from the Midnight Goddess Hills.

This once prosperous settlement was sacked more then once, especially after failing to pay protection money to Hara, a stronghold city ruled by Alyrian merchants. Many of the locals were either sold into slavery or forced into indentured servitude.

Only the stubborn and stoic remained. The young started going missing over the last few months... This is where Orda, Fra Nevjest and Orion stepped in and offered their help to Fitzedward, the local veteran.

The trio joined Fitzedward and his two brothers on the expedition to the ruins of the Elder Temple. They found it desecrated and violated. Despite failing to purge it, the party had rescued Fitzedward's sister and her husband.

That came at the cost of Doud, one of the brothers, and Orion's testicle. The latter is the reason the party spent so long at Dontrap before venturing back to the cursed temple.

Rhall, an old, one armed, one eyed priest did his best to tend to Orion's wounds, but alas failed. The thief was still alive. Having learned his lesson, he invested in extremely tight, butt-accentuating, leather pants and high heel boots.

“Nothing shall crawl up my pantaloons no more!”

Orda spent his time at Dontrap nursing the Drunk Smith back to life.

“Good tidings worker of steel, my condolences on the loss of your family. I have been venturing to purge the evil that took your family. I ask your blessing to reap vengeance on those vile beings of chaos.”

“See, I bring relics of law against the enemy. Hark. Hear how the blade sings.” He swings the blade several times, then hands it over for the Smith to inspect.

Then he knelled and offered up his old blade, named Wazukana, wrapped in linen.

“This was made for me on my twelfth birthday. The steel workers of my land fold the blade many times and hone it over many moons. They call it jewel steel. I gift it to you, in hopes it inspires you to Smith again. Your blades will be needed in the coming war.”

The warrior from the far east was lucky to encounter Smith sober. The man studied both blade with great interest, offering his comments on their provenance. Although the Phoenix blade was indeed special, the man paid more attention Wazukana since this was the first time he had seen a blade from far east.

“Yes the eastern blade is a marvel, men spend their whole lives trying to master its creation, and many others do the same attempting to master its application. Hang it above your forge for inspiration.”

Then Orda asked if he could stay with Smith whilst living in Dontrap. As payment he will labour on him and help get his forge back into working order.

“Once I gain some coin I hope to commission you to make axes and shovels, so that we can build some walls for this village.”

“Thank you. You can sleep wherever you like.”

Fra Nevjest spent his days helping out Rhall with his garden. The priest was overjoyed to meet a Lawful cleric in good health. He was twice overjoyed upon hearing that Fra and his party are planning to consecrate the Elder Temple.

At the end of two week rest an unexpected newcomer arrived in Dontrap: warrior dressed from top to toe in metal armour. Aventail covered his face. The man was caked in grime, dried blood, and rust.

Villagers gasped at the sight of his bright red sword—a symbol that this man was Chosen by Coriptis, the Goddess of Battle and Inamorata of Berserkers!

Paladins of Battle roam the Wilderlands, ever seeking Chaos to purge further. He must've been drawn by the desecrated Elder Temple.

Man in question was Tamren, and he joined the trio on their new expedition to the fallen temple. Fitzedward joined them, as promised. Hobart, his youngest brother joined as well, at the encouragement of the party.

“We need a torchboy! Come on, he will be safe in the rear. We promise!”

And so the party set out.

Mid-way up the Midnight Goddess Hills a giant eagle dive-bombed the party, surprising them. It took out a chunk of Tamren before landing on Fra Nevjest with all its weight. Then it picked him up and flew away.

Orion managed to stab the bird while it was still on the ground. It towered all of them and easily slapped everyone with its wings.

Unwilling to let the bird devour their friend, the party released a volley of arrows, each hitting a soft spot. The eagle screeched, released Fra Nevjest, and continued flying.

The cleric fell down several hundred feet and splattered all over the rocks. This unexpected turn of events surprised the party.

“Uh.”

Orion tensed his longbow, steadied his hand, and squinted.

Then he released an arrow.

And the eagle fell too.

There was very little left of the cleric, such was the impact. Orda recovered fragments of his skull. Orion made sure to pick up the brooch gifted to them by the Guardian Spirit of the Elder Temple.

It was caked in blood and gore. The thief nicely pinned it to Tamren, the now sole cleric of the party.

“Here, looks perfect.”

Finally, they sought the corpse of giant eagle.

“Does it have any treasure?”

No.

“I want to chop it up for food.”

“I want its head as a trophy.”

“Let's drag it back to Dontrap and do all of that there!”

Alas, trouble breeds trouble.

Eight red-skinned men intercepted them at the foot of the hills.

Each was dressed in a leather jerkin and a loincloth. Their bulging muscles were obvious from afar. They were armed with spears, swords, and axes. And they were as quiet as Tamren.

“These must be the Altanian barbarians...”

“We should try to parley.”

“You know what. I have a better idea! Let's use the bird to flip the bird at them!”

Stare down did not last long.

Altanians unleashed a series of ear-piercing war cries and charged the party.

Adventurers released a volley, killing two barbarians. In return they received a salvo of spears and hand axes.

“Brace!”

The barbarians were incredibly fast. And even worse for the adventurers, they fought both smart and ferociously. Four of them charged the front line. The other two ran around and flanked them.

One speared Orion straight through his face. The other overpowered Hobart and hacked him to death right in front of Fitzedward. The veteran was driven mad by grief.

Tamren and Orda called on their respective gods as they fought off these ferocious foes. They too fought smart, with their backs pressed against the giant eagle's corpse.

Their skill, and heavy armour, protected them long enough to allow them to slay their opposition. Paladin killed three, while Karakan killed four.

The sun had risen just a few hours ago, and yet the party was reduced to nothing more but two warriors covered in blood and one broken veteran.

At least they were standing on the corpses of their enemies?

“We shall give Hobart a warrior's burial. Let's head back...”

Sunstrong 19th, Fireday

Much to Orda's and Tamren's surprise, Rhall divulged that he had hidden a Raise Dead scroll for time of great need. And since he believed that Fra Nevjest was sent by the God to restore the Elder Temple, he insisted on bringing him back!

Hobart was brought back in the process as well. He was promptly slapped by Fitzedward. He promised not to undertake anymore adventuring. “It is not for me.”

Apparently dying and coming back is extremely draining on the body, mind, and spirit. It took Fra Nevjest two weeks of bed rest before he was even able to don his armour.

During these two weeks the party was joined by Brent Goose, a cleric of small birds. He was most interested in Fra Nevjest's account of a wondrous painting he found in the catacombs under the Elder Temple. It depicted a huge bird wit “Aelbos” written underneath. That was reason enough for Brent to join the party.

Revived and rejuvenated, the merry bend set out on the expedition.

No eagles nor red-skinned barbarians interrupted them this time.

“Let's go back to the catacombs to report to the Guardian Spirit.”

Alas! The spirit did not materialise where they found it last time. In fact, all the intact sarcophagi were now broken. Their inhabitants were smashed to pieces and thrown around the chamber.

“No!”

Orda engaged in some sorrowful Mongolian throat singing.

The party revisited all the burial chambers. Each was repeat of the previous case—smashed coffins and broken skeletons.

“Where are the stone cats?”

They found one, shattered and covered in blood, in one of the large burial chambers. The other was in front of small chamber with elaborate stone chest. The same chamber Orion nicked a jewel from.

Fra Nevjest tapped the cat, presented the brooch given to him by the Guardian Spirit, and then passed by it.

The chamber was empty sans the large stone chest. It was five feet long, two feet tall and two feet deep. It had three lids, all hinged. The one to the left had an engraved picture of a deer, the one in the center had an engraved picture of a sun, and the one to the right had an engraved picture of a sword.

Fra lifted the middle one. The opening was much deeper than expected. Two sacks were on the bottom. He gingerly inspected both. One of the sacks had a weapon akin to a mace and a number of coins. The other sack had a sphere, roughly one foot in diameter, that was hard on touch.

The cleric took out the mace. Then he proceeded to open the leftmost and rightmost lids. Their respective chambers were empty. The middle chamber was now empty as well.

“Thank you Guardian Spirit.”

He rejoined the party and they went deeper into the dungeon.

First they revisited all the previously explored chambers, just to make sure they don't get ambushed from behind.

Then they continued down the ten feet wide corridor. A Y-shaped junction was up ahead. But before it was a narrow corridor breaking off to the right.

“You watch guard here while I investigate this egress.”

Tamren went in first, followed by Fra Nevjest.

This corridor was indeed narrow, barely two feet wide. Straight they went, then right at the junction, and then right again, into pitch black chamber. Tamren's fighter instincts kicked in, and he blocked a creature lunging at him just as Fra brought the light.

They were flanked by two disgusting humanoids. Both had pale-pinky flesh covered in warts, boils, and sores; their faces a travesty of humanity; their hands deformed claws.

“AAAAAAGGHHHHHHH!”

Orda and Brent Goose abandoned their guard position and ran towards Fra Nevjest's painful scream.

They entered the chamber just in time to witness one of the creatures gouging out Fra Nevjest's left eye with its deformed thumb. Fra pushed back the monster back, but not before it finished what it started. The creature immediately slurped the soft delicacy.

Orda stepped in, but a gentleman he is, allowed Fra Nevjest to have the killing blow. Tamren hacked the other creature.

Fra Nevjest stumbled around, trying to process what has just happened. Somehow the the clumsy cleric became even clumsier.

One of the adventurers knelt by the monstrous corpses, shining a light upon them. He wondered in disgust:

“What are these creatures?”

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