Session 23:
Crossed Signals in
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Cast of Characters:
Celceor The Wise; Elf Mage (Dave M.)
Nick; human Rogue (Dave P.)
Fafnir; Human Barbarian (Jon C.)
Werkle of Dinnsmere; Dwarf
Fighter (Al)
Ereyn Bane; Half-Elf Rogue (Mike D.)
Eggo of the Holy Brotherhood; Human Cleric (NPC)
Beck, Human Fighter (NPC)
Tok, Half-Orc Druid (Jon P)
2 Children, Human (NPC)
Map of Mar Tesaro (North and South parts of Island) and Map of Crossways Town
24th day of the month of Tarsakh (the fantasy equivalent of April)
After the Ettin fight, we were resting up in a small clearing in the forest and licking our wounds. While the rest of the group sat around swapping tales and Eggo told moralistic little fables to the children, Fafnir and Bane lay under an elderberry tree, resting from their foray against the Ettin clan. Eggo doled out a bit of healing as Fafnir’s thunderous snoring shook the forest. Suddenly the ominous sound of panicked birds chirping out the alarm and creatures crashing through the underbrush could be heard over the barbarian’s trombone-like snores. Red-eyed wild boars and sows, eyes rolling in fear, came crashing out of the underbrush in a wave of tusks, bristles and hooves. The children ran off shrieking in fear as Eggo hiked up his skirts and ran off after them. Most of the rest of the party scrambled up trees. Fafnir leapt from his bed, his famed ‘morning wood’ like a tent pole beneath his kilt (which frightened the children even more) and kicked Eryn Bane awake.
With the best of intentions, Celceor launched fireballs, barbequing pigs where they ran as Werkle whacked away at the panicked pigs, but they managed just to herd the pigs directly towards Eggo and the children. Eggo tripped on the hem of his robe and was trampled by a dozen pigs that also trampled the young girl while the boy scrambled up a tree. Bleeding, the priest of Pelor snatched up the young girl and dragged her from the press of wild boars as he tried to heal her. Werkle, cursing in dwarvish, disappeared beneath the flashing tusks and pounding hooves of the swine only to rise again, bloody and marked with hoof prints. Having brought her back from the brink of death, Eggo urged the girl to climb up the tree with the boy to be safe from the stampeding pigs.
Suddenly
the cause of the swine stampede became apparent. Three ettins,
bearing morning-star clubs, nets and sacks, grunting “Ehhh! Hungry!
Food!” in orkish as they emerged from the
woods. Their eyes rolled with glee and
their jaws split into toothy grins as they saw the adventurers perched in the
trees and the burnt pigs littering the clearing. Celceor indicated
the pigs slain by his fireball and invited the ettins
to help themselves, saying, “Here; feast!” in orc,
but the ettins evidentally
preferred raw human, elf and dwarf to burnt pork; they charged forward. Celceor responded
by tossing a fireball into their faces.
Fafnir leapt from his tree, sword swinging, and got batted to the ground by the first ettin for his trouble. As the third ettin attempted to shake Nick from his perch in the tree, the rest of the warriors ganged around ettin number one and cut away at him. Celceor summoned a bear that kept the second ettin busy for the nonce. A stab from behind brought the first ettin down, and, like a tree falling in the forest, it fell to the ground. The adventurers wheeled to face the second ettin, and Fafnir charged off to fight it just as Eggo arrived, breathless, to attempt to aid the barbarian with magic. The barbarian was in no mood for hocus pocus and ran towards the next ettin, leaving the priest huffing and puffing as he tried to catch up with the fast moving Fafnir. Werkle managed to land a few solid blows on the second with his axe before being slammed to the ground with a morning star, where he lay bleeding. Eggo ran up, puffing with effort, and managed to heal the dwarf before he slipped away, but a massive slamming blow from an ettin’s club knocked the feeble priest to the ground in a bloody heap just as the dwarf rose to fight again.
Finally the three ettins lay dead in the clearing. It was agreed that this was probably an unhealthy place to be, so the group snatched up some of the wild boar as food and proceeded south. Before leaving, Fafnir found a few big nets the ettins probably used for catching pigs which he appropriated, and we travelled south for a few hours, hoping to put some distance between ourselves and the ettins. Along the way, Rune the owl, who was flying recon overhead, saw a flock of birds off in the distance that gave him the willies. That evening, using the nets he had liberated from the ettins, Fafnir managed to catch some fish. Some of the boar’s meat was prepared with salt and stashed away for future consumption. Yum!
25th day of the month of Tarsakh
After
another less-than-inspired breakfast of salted boar’s meat (tough) and
gooseberries (sour) as well as another tedious sermon on the wonders of Pelor from Eggo, we girded our
loins and headed south one again.
Passing over a hill and through some forest, we saw the Town of
By twos and threes, we slipped into town and attempted to stroll casually down the streets. Alidian soldiers were in evidence, tromping up and down the streets. Some of them were accompanied by hulking figures in armor that wore helmets without eyeholes. These helmets were marked with an evil looking rune that resembled a spike driven through a stylized eye. Most of the soldiers seemed to be concentrated in the area around the keep. While Eggo escorted the children to the marketplace and bought them cakes and bread (to make up for the rough fare in the forest), Celceor and Fafnir entered a fashionable shop where cloaks, hats, robes and gowns in all styles and colors were on display. The fawning, overdressed shopkeeper immediately offered to buy the crooked wooden staff that Celceor had taken from Vormouth since ‘Staves in the Northern style are most unusual and would soon be a collector’s item when all those pesky northern wizards are eliminated...’ Although the shopkeeper kept upping the bid, Celceor instead turned talk to his desire to purchase magical inks and other arcane items. After insulting Fafnir’s intellect (and that worthy limped out the door), the shopkeeper produced a pair of gloves, a belt and a cloak that all had unidentified magical properties which he was offering for the bargain price of 100 gold each, a 10% discount for mage guild members. Being a penny pinching elf, Celceor produced the mage guild certificate of the late Vormouth in hopes of getting the discount. As he read the certificate, the preening shopkeeper turned pale and his hands began to shake. He shrieked, “Stella! Our customer needs his ink!” and scuttled off into the back room, as his ponderously fat wife emerged, trembling, bearing a tray laden with bottles of magical ink. Celceor purchased the gloves, the belt, the cloak and the ink for a bargain price, but as he turned to leave the shop, he was greeted by a patrol of nervous looking guardsmen, clutching their weapons and arrayed in a manner that made Celceor think they had been schooled on avoiding tight clumps of troops since that would make them vulnerable to fireball blasts. His knuckles white with fear on the hilt of his sword, the sergeant asked, in a quavering voice, if the Conjurer Vormouth would be so good as to accompany them to the keep to see the magistrate. Apparently the shopkeeper had dashed out the door and called the guard while Celceor was counting out his coins.
Fafnir attempted to catch the eye of Celceor and see if the mage would indicate what to do with a look or gesture, but Celceor failed to see him. Sweating bullets at this development, Eggo herded the children into the local inn, hurridly gave some coins at the waitress and told her to bring the children milk and porridge and the dwarf and Beck some beer, asked Werkle to keep an eye on them and then hurried off after the guards, only to have the iron gate clang shut in his face as Celceor and the guards marched in. “Halt!” shouted the guard. “No one gets in to see the magistrate without a pass!”
“Where do I get a pass?” asked Eggo.
“From the magistrate!” replied the guard.
“Very well,” replied Eggo. “Let me in, I wish to obtain a pass!”
“In order to get in to see the magistrate, you must have a pass!” replied the guard. Clearly guarding the magistrate’s front door was not a thinking man’s job.
“Please punctually permit this Priest of Pelor passage for the purpose of procuring the proper pass!” shouted Eggo. Despite the fact that he had used an impressive number of P’s in his request, the guard was unmoved. Back at the inn, the children slurped their porridge as Beck and Werkle shouted, “Barkeep! Another round!” Nick skulked along the less reputable streets, looking for information on counterfeit passes and word of the captain who had abducted the boy, Terrem Khatrys, whom we were looking for. Word on the street was that counterfeit passes were available, but thus far no counterfeit passes had fooled the Alidians. Fafnir was going to help his friend Celceor, but passed a weapon shop on the way. “Oooooh, shiny!” he thought, wandering in to fondle the many shiny and pointy things for sale, all thoughts of Celceor forgotten.
Meanwhile, inside the keep, the trembling guards escorted Celceor into a tower room. Silks and velvet hangings were in abundance and a door opened out onto the balcony outside. I could escape by flight spell if things turn pear-shaped, though Celceor, eyeing the balcony. A well dressed bureaucrat dressed in noble attire looked up from the pile of documents on his desk and said, “I heard that the Conjurer Vormouth was in town, purchasing items in the bazaar… so I ask my guards to fetch him for me… and they come back with you… and YOU are not Vormouth… strange, no?” Celceor opened his mouth to respond but the magistrate replied, “Silence while Priest Galman casts a spell!” He gestured towards a tall man in a robe and Galman gestured, muttering words and fingering charms. The candleflames flickered although there was no breeze and Celceor felt magical energy suffuse the room. “Galman has cast a spell which will detect any falsehood uttered,” said Magistrate Norino, “so lies are useless. Who are you and what are you doing here with Vormouth’s guild membership card? Hmmmmm?!?”
After careful grilling, Celceor revealed that he had Viormouth’s guildcard because Vormouth was dead… and that Vormouth had dies because, in Celceor words, a “thief stabbed him.” In addition, Celceor was forced to admit that he HAD fought with and killed some Alidians, but where and when was left to the imagination. “Out!” shouted Magistrate Norino, pointing at the door, and the guardsmen filed out, chuckling to themselves in a nasty manner. Clearly they though Celceor was about to get his skinny elven ass handed to him.
As soon as the guards left, Norino put his rich Córdoban leather boots on the desk and took a long sip of Earl Grey tea from a bone china cup. “Doubtless the unfortunate death of these Alidians was self defense, no?” he said… “Don’t answer that --- Galman’s spell is still in effect and I don’t care why you killed someone else. I assume you would like to collect the reward for the extermination of Conjurer Vormouth?” As Celceor’s mouth watered, Norino tossed a heavy bag of coin on the desk with a thump. “You need passes? I can provide them, as well as a guild membership with YOUR name on it instead of this one… which is likely to get you killed…” Norino poked the guild membership card of Vormouth with the toe of a boot that probably cost as much as a peasant’s farm. “You just have to do a favor for me, first…” Breifly, the magistrate indicated that he wanted Celceor and his comrades, who had proven their mettle by eliminating the pesky Vormouth, to retrieve a magical sphere of some kind that was hidden in a tomb, nearby. He suggested that Celeceor and his friends meet him there two days hence and after they had retrieved the item (and all other plunder was theirs), he would reward them with a Mage Guild Membership card for Celceor and passes for everyone.
Celceor returned to his companions and told them what had transpired. Eggo hauled the kids down to the church, and, after a tearful goodbye and suitable donations, foisted them off on the local orphanage. They all retired to the inn where Nick reported that he had tracked down some rumors – apparently Captain Wots-his-name, who had formerly commanded the Ocean’s Majesty (the ship that had wrecked on the way to Breakshore the week before) had been in town recently… which was strange because the group assumed Captain Wots-his-name had drowned. He had apparently had Terrem, the presumed Prince of the North, with him, and had gotten into some sort of scuffle with the ALidian guards and then, apparently, headed south. If we wanted to follow him, we needed passes, so we agreed to Celceor’s mission.
26th day of the month of Tarsakh
We spent the day buying supplies and retrieving our armor. Beck bought a trident and some other items and pearls were procured to cast ‘identify’ spells on the belt, boots and cloak purchased in the town bazaar. The gloves aided the picking of locks and by drawing of lots went to Nick. The cloak helped protect the wearer from fire and was given to Bane. The belt helped fat people appear thin… and was given to Eggo. We then retired to the inn, deciding to get an early start the next day.
27th day of the month of Tarsakh
Bane and Nick had set off extra early, in order to arrive at the meeting place before Magistrate Norino and his friends and assure the rest of us that no ambush was being planned. A gigantic stone door was built into the side of a hill. A while later they saw Norino, his cleric and a bunch of soldiers arrive with horses, tackle and wagons. They attached ropes and tackle to the doors, and, whips cracking and horses and men straining, forced the heavy doors open. A dark tunnel was seen beyond.
Since there seemed to be no shenanigans, the party arrived and met with Magistrate Norino and Priest Galman. Norino indicated that the ‘item’ (which looked like a black or purple sphere, about the size of a bocce ball) was ‘in there.’ He said that traps and puzzles were present, and that we had three days to retrieve the item… after which we would be given up for dead and the doors shut again. He also warned us not to plan on spending the night in that place…
XP:
Combat XP: 2000
Story XP: 2500
RP XP: Case by case
Bonus Awards: Case by case
Celceor The Wise; Elf Mage (Dave M./NPC for part of
session) XP Start:13,631xp
Combat: 330xp
Story: 415xp
RP: 100xp
Spot Bonus: 50xp - Handling the negotiations with the Magistrate
XP for Session: 895xp
XP Total: 14,526xp
Nick; Human rogue (Dave P.) XP Start: 10,018xp
Combat: 330xp
Story: 415xp
RP: 200xp
XP for Session: 945xp
Total: 10,963xp
Fafnir; Human Barbarian (Jon C) XP Start: 7,854xp
Combat: 330xp
Story: 415xp
RP: 200xp
Bonus: 100: Loved the bar scene
For Session: 1,045xp
Total: 8,899xp
Werkle of Dinnsmere; Dwarf
Fighter (Al/NPC for part of session) XP Start: 9,565xp
Combat: 330xp
Story: 415xp
RP: 100xp
For Session: 845xp
Total: 10,410xp LEVEL 5?!!
Eggo of the Holy Brotherhood; Human Cleric (Steph/NPC/Dave M) XP Start: 7,603xp
Combat: 330xp
Story: 415xp
RP: 200
Spot Bonus: 100xp – Handling of the children
For Session: 1,045xp
Total: 8,648xp
Ereyn Bane; Human Rogue (Mike D./NPC) XP Start:
8,767xp
Combat: 330xp
Story: 415xp
For Session: 745xp
Total: 9,512xp