AD&D 1st Ed PBeM Campaign: Heroes of Cumulat

[BabbageCliologic]

Hello All,

I am involved as a player in a new PBeM game. After talking with the GM about this, I have started this thread to allow the game players (as well as others) to read the adventure in total.

Here are the rules of Character Creation:

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GM POST
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Character creation:

Go to http://www.irony.com/mailroll.html

Choose to roll 4 six sided dice, dropping the lowest number rolled. In the drop-down for number of times to repeat this, choose 7 (this should be the default on the web page).

For Subject of the mail note, enter something along the lines of "Set one for <name's> Character. Place YOUR email address in the required email field and MY email address in the optional field. Click the "Roll them bones" button. Repeat TWO MORE TIMES. You will be sending me three sets of 7 rolls. Through some hidden and arcane process, I'll take those results and start building your character. If you want a copy of the finished character sheet, let me know. (If you have a good template for this, also let me know. Otherwise I'll use the one I've always used.)

Once you've sent me the rolls, then send me a mail telling me your top three choices for character class and race. General classes that I allow:
* Fighter
* Paladin
* Ranger
* Barbarian (based on an issue of Dragon Magazine)
* Mage
* Illusionist
* Specialist (more later)
* Thief
* Acrobat
* Assassin ('d prefer not to have them, though)
* Cleric
* Druid
* Bard (again, from an issue of Dragon)
(If you have questions on character classes, just ask.

General races I allow:
* Human
* Elf
o High (gray) Elf
o Wood Elf
* Dwarf
* Gnome
* Hobbit
* Half-elf

Come up with a GOOD rational for a different race and we'll talk.

As always, the only stupid question is the one that doesn't get asked - or the one asked by my 7 year old grandson. :-) The magic system works on a basic spell-point. Your average 1st level spell costs one spell point. During character creation, a mage has a percentage chance based upon INT of knowing a specific spell in the 1st level spell book. If they know that spell and have sufficient spell
points, they can cast it. Spell points are determined by a die roll (made each level) plus a modifier based on INT. When a spell increases in power (such as magic missile or fireball) the spell points required to use it at that level of power go up as well. You can always cast such a spell at a lower spell point cost with reduced effectiveness.

A mage can choose to specialize in a school of magic (Divination, Necromancy, Elemental, etc. All spells from that school are cast with increased effectiveness (reduced cost or lower fumble chance, etc.). They have a harder time with other schools. An Elementalist can further specialize in one of the elements. However, a Fire Mage will have greater difficulty with the other elemental spells than anyone else.

That's the nickel tour of my magic system

[BabbageCliologic]

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Here’s what everyone has in addition to their starting weapon and armor.

* Basic clothing – nothing too fancy or terribly warm. You’re wearing one set and have one change with you
* Backpack
* Basic cook set (one pot, one plate, one eating knife and fork)
* Water skin
* 2 days emergency (iron) rations
* A serviceable dagger



Unless you tell me you have something else, I’m going to assume you don’t have it. Yes, that is a hint.

No, I’m not going to say more. I have a reputation as an evil DM to keep you know.

[BabbageCliologic]

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If you want a set of 1st edition rules (Player’s Handbook, etc.) you can find them for download in PDF format here: http://www.rpgnow.com/default.php?cPath=_1

You don’t need them for the game, but if you want them…

[BabbageCliologic]

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It was asked: How quickly should players respond to the DM’s request for posts?

Answer: If there’s an urgency, I’ll let you know. In this last case (responding to the caravan master) I’d like to see responses no later than Thursday evening. I have Friday “off” (it’s my 8X90 day off, I’ll still have to work but not as much – I hope) so I’d like to write the first digest post with all your responses and move things along.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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It's been a long winter. Heavy snows have kept the passes closed - further isolating the small community of Hermsdale. As you make your way into what passes for the town square, you see a burly man dressed in better-than-average merchants garb talking to anyone who passed by who will listen.

"Word has come from Lord Hammerson that the passes are open again and that he is paying top price for a number of items that the heavy winter has kept the merchants from delivering. Dwarven Ale, Khitarian war horses, Dragon-moth silk. Things that I have to sell! Still, I will not brave the passes without a suitable caravan guard. Younglings, this is your chance for adventure, your chance to see the fabled city of Mithraltir, your chance to earn a fat purse of gold. I have need of any and all classes. Come, step forward!"

[BabbageCliologic]

Character name, Race, Class

Silent, Half-Orc, Warrior

Elrohir Elesar, Elf, Bowman/Mage

Padraic, Elf, Priest

Pirrik, Elf,

Tigerseye, Human, Warrior

Gord, Half-Elf, Ranger

Morlan, Gnome, Mage

[BabbageCliologic]

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A garishly dressed young half-orc steps from the crowd and eyes the merchant carefully. Though short of stature, only about 5' tall, he is powerfully built. His arms and face are criss-crossed with old scars.

Upon his head is a dirty bright orange silk turban, wrapped haphazardly around his dented helm. He is clad in a leather breastplate with rusted studs, with leather shoulder pads, that covers a faded blue wizards robe adorned with gold stars, moons and suns. Standing arms akimbo, the long flared sleeves of the robe drag along in the churned mud. A plain leather belt encircles his waist and a sword baldric containing a battered long sword hangs on his right side. The robe ends shortly above his knees, cut off roughly and frayed, underneath a studded leather skirt with an old short off-white bartender’s apron on top. His left foot is shod in one new leather shoe and a scuffed riding boot is on the right. Across his back is a short moth-eaten sickly-green cloak of questionable fashion, a serviceable Northman steel shield with a chewed rim, and a rough pack.

The half-orc crosses his arms and squints intently at the merchant.

Digging a copper coin out of his pocket, he flips it and checks the result. Frowning, he does it again. Then again. Having let chance guide his future, he steps forward and waves at the merchant to gain his attention. With nary a word, he gestures his interest in becoming a caravan guard. Silently, he demonstrates his martial prowess, then calmly turns to the merchant for his reaction. Sporting a grin that shows his sizable and malformed Orcish teeth, quietly he awaits his potential employment opportunity.

He does not have to wait long. The caravan master observes his antics with a bemused smile upon his face. Seeing that he knows at least the rudiments of sword-work AND spying the bulging muscles he sports, the master says, “Quiet one, eh? No matter. You’ll find I talk enough for two men anyway. My name is Nagel, though it seems you won’t be using it. My rates are simple as are my rules. I pay 100 gold for the journey along with provisions. If you’re wanting fancy fare, you’ll need to bring or catch your own. If we make it to Mithraltir without losing any cargo, I pay a bonus. I pay a bounty for any creature killed that attacks the caravan or that is tracked back to it’s lair after attacking the caravan. I’ll give you a marker you can take to the outfitters down the street and he’ll supply you with weapons within reason and armor should you lack. Certain other tools he may have as well.”

“Now, if you’ll step into the tent here, we’ll see about getting you sworn.

The pay and benefits apply to all players. He’ll do the same thing with each of you in turn. You’re taken into a decently appointed tent and shown a rock the size of your head which glows slightly.

“Nothing to fear, lad. It’s magical, of course. I got it off a holy man. You lay your hand on it and agree to the oath I say. If you break your oath, you’re cursed. But I swear an oath to you first.”

Matching actions to words, Nagel places his hand on the rock and chants, “I swear to deal fairly with <insert name here…in the case of the half-orc he just says ‘the lad’>. I will pay him what was promised, feeding him 3 healthy meals per day, binding any wounds he receives and giving him a fair bonus should the caravan make it to Mithraltir without loss. “He tells each of you the oath you are to speak, “I <insert name here> swear to obey caravan Master Nagel in all matters of caravan security and to take no item which does not belong to me from him, the cargo or any other member of the caravan until such time as we reach Mithraltir or Nagel releases me from my oath, whichever comes first.”

With the half-orc, he tells him to nod if he agrees to the oath.

Any who refuse to give the oath or attempt to alter it in any way will be left behind.

An elf steps forward from the crowd, a look of determination on his face. He moves with a quick grace and is garbed in simple studded leather and carries a bow, quiver and backpack. The dirt of the road is thick on his boots.

"Many stories have been told of the great city of Mithraltir. I have often longed to see such wonders for myself. I will join you in your journey. Any danger that the road may hold for you will surely be dispatched quickly by the arrows from my bow. My knowledge of the magical arts will also be of great benefit to your party on this perilous journey."

Nagel asks him his name, Elrohir Elesar, and repeats his offer and takes him into the tent for the swearing of the oath. When he comes out, both he and the half-orc each have a bronze plaque. Nagel tells them to take it to the outfitter’s store. They will be able to buy supplies for their journey there.

Another elf steps forward, he carries a long sword and is garbed in worn studded leather armor. "Have you a need of an acolyte of Heimdal on your journey?"

“Happy I am to have an acolyte of the guardian of the Bifrost bridge along on this journey. Nagel asks his name and is told Padraic. They retire to the tent and emerge some time later as the others did.

Pirrik is ready to dismiss and ignore the human as yet another town crier or - worse - brain-touched preacher, when the words "top price" and "number of items" reach his copious ears.

It is "fat purse of gold" that finally disengages the vestiges of his will from his motor functions, allowing his avarice to steer him over to the speaker, in front of whom he manages to turn a greed-drunken totter into a graceful bow.

"My lord, I am but a humble elf, who has only his rusty blade, his shining wits, and his innate connection with the very pulse and breath of nature itself to offer in return for the aforementioned purse and the honor of serving Your Grace. My name is Pirrik. When do we leave?"

“We leave on the morrow, Pirrik,” Nagel says. I’ll be reserving a space in the common room of the tavern for the lot of you, one last night in a comfy bed before hitting the road. In addition to the promises I’ve already made, I can also offer those who wish, an introduction to the GUILD of their choice.”

And they enter the tent.

Tigerseye sits in an old battered tavern, sifting through the contents of his stew with a spoon, trying in vain to actually identify the grayish meat drifting midst the potatoes and watery broth. He sighs softly, quietly hoping that, whatever it once was, that it had been, at the very least, incapable of carrying on decent conversation. The food in this region seems to be greatly lacking in spices, at least the ones his palette was used to, so everything seems bland. Well, to be fair the tavern food, not much can be expected in a town that has been snowed in for months, especially for a traveler trying to conserve what little coin he has left.

His ears pricked as the loud merchant walks by the tavern. Despite all of the flowery words, the job sounded like little more than work as a caravan guard. Still, not only did it hold the promise of gold, a commodity that he was severely lacking at this time, but it also offered the chance to travel the pass in the company of others. While a caravan was a great lure for bandits and things of a similar ilk, a single traveler was often an easy mark for all of those things as well. His heart leapt when the merchant mentioned Mithraltir. It was decided then, while it did not sound ideal, it was the best opportunity that he had come across for a long time.

Tigerseye wraps his cloak about him to ward off the chill, and rises from his table, leaving the ruminants of his meal behind. Politely waiting for a moment when the merchant is not busy speaking with others interested in this opportunity, he finally approaches. He inclines his head politely at the merchant, and smiles warmly. "Greetings, I hear that you are looking for some guards?"

“You’ve heard right, young sir. How may I call you?” After receiving a response, he says, “Aye, your eyes do have the glint of a tiger in them. Come into my tent then, swear the oath and we’ll be on our way at first light tomorrow.”

Finally, a massively built half-elf named Gord steps forward. “Count me in,” he says. “I have the woodland skills of a ranger and will aid your journey.”

Seeing the muscles and solid form before him, Nagel signs him up on the spot. He is giving his spiel once more when a voice from down around the knees of most of you speaks up.

“Down here, down here. What’s a gnome got to do to get noticed?”

Once room is made for him, you see a nimble gnome, carrying a pack that’s very large for him. His fingers are stained, as if by some chemicals as is his beard. He approaches Nagel and identifies himself as Morlan the enchanter.

Nagel offers him the same deal as the others and then they go into his tent.

At last, you’re all signed up (unless any of you refused the oath). It’s mid-morning. You’ve got the rest of the day to visit the outfitter’s and see how much Nagel’s chit is worth there.

If you have any questions of Nagel, he’ll be with his caravan in the town center along with what qualifies as the town militia You can also meet his cook, Dinko. His assistant and master-at-arms, Ahmed. (Dinko is dwarven and Ahmed is human.) Also traveling with the caravan is Twilana, the horse mistress and her two assistants and several drovers.

[BabbageCliologic]

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Now that we’ve had our first major post, I’ve had a few questions I would like to take the time to answer.

1) If you want to interact with another character in the game, you can have me relay the conversation for you. If you prefer to interact directly and BOTH / ALL parties agree, I can give you the email address of the particular character(s).

2) Questions regarding the game, the current post, etc. can be handled via email or IM. If you want to IM me, please check my status. If it shows In a meeting, Busy or Do not disturb, please just send an email.

3) No, nobody has IM’ed me at a bad time and gotten me in trouble. So far, everyone has been really good about that.

4) Odds are VERY slim that I’ll organize an in-person play session.

5) Nobody has done a Detect Magic on Nagel’s “oath-stone” so questions as to its magical nature cannot be answered. On a more general nature, nobody has heard of such an item before, but that doesn’t mean much, you’re all 1st level.

6) You have about 8 hours of daylight left.

7) The journey will take you through about 7 to 8 days of farm-land. Then you’ll be skirting an edge of the Bitter Woods, then up into Axe Cleft pass. You’ll be in the mountains for a week to 10 days, depending on conditions. Then it’s rolling hills followed by plains and then about 2 weeks to the seaport city-state of Mithraltir.

8) Horses will NOT be provided for caravan guards.

9) The Master-at-arms of the caravan will provide training for any fighter-types who level up during the trip.

10) It is expected that you spend much of the time on the road on foot. The caravan won’t be moving fast unless everything goes to hell.

[BabbageCliologic]

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The first to make his way to the outfitter's shop is the Half-Orc, who
will be called 'Silent' in these posts for lack of a better name.

As he enters the shop, you can sense the tension in the air - coming
from the shop-keeper. Silent, however, either does not seem to notice or
to care. He carefully examines several longbows before selecting one -
testing the strength of the wood. He ignores comments like, "Break it
and you've bought it, half-breed."

He then selects 2 dozen good arrows, two throwing axes a dagger and a
spear. He bags up a week's worth of iron rations and finds a small, tin
whistle that he attaches to a length of twine and then ties around his
neck. He finishes his shopping with 50 feet of rope and a small pulley
set to be used as block and tackle. All this he takes up to the counter.
"Will that be all?" the shop-keeper asks. "You sure you don't want some
babies for snacks?" The sheer venom in the man's voice sets Silent back
a moment, but he recovers, placing the marker he got from Nagel on the
counter and then starting a pantomime. He appears to be pretending to
play a game on a board, picking up pieces and moving them in set
patters. The shop-keeper gives him an incredulous look and says, "I
don't know why you would think you would want it, but I don't have the
King game in stock here. Best I can do is checkers. Take it and yer
stench and be gone with you both."

Tigereye has watched this with mounting anger. As the shop-keeper is
writing the purchases down in a special ledger, Tigereye strides
forward, his scabbarded sword (quite a strange design, actually. It's
about the right length for a bastard or hand-and-a-half sword, but more
slender. It's possibly oriental in nature) swinging behind him almost
like a cat's tail.

"That was rude and uncalled for," he says. "That man is a companion of
mine and a customer of yours and has given you no cause for offense. We
are here at the behest of caravan master Nagel. I believe you make more
when a caravan supplies itself than you do at any other time of the
year. None of use truly need the items we've come here to purchase.
Apologize to the Silent one at once or we shall withhold our commerce
and inform Nagel of your attitude. And that cudgel you keep under the
counter won't change matters any. Other than making things worse for
you."

You see true fear flash in the shop-keeper's eyes just then. He stammers
out a quick "I crave your pardon" to Silent who simply flashes his
toothy grin in reply. To Tigereye and the rest of you he says, "Orcs
killed my son, left me a cripple fit only to mind this store. That does
things to a man. But I'll hold my tongue and keep my feelings to myself.
I cannot afford to lose Nagel's business."

For a moment, it seemed that Tigereye considered saying more, then
decided to drop the matter, especially seeing how Silent seemed content
to watch the rest of the goings on from the doorway.
Tigereye then browsed the outfitter for several items, selecting the
following: Studded leather armor, a longbow and 2 dozen arrows w/a
quiver, 50 feet of rope, a warm change of clothes(cloak, gloves, boots),
iron rations, an earthenware mug, new backpack, bedroll and blanket, a
lantern and oil as well as a tinderbox with flint and steel
Satisfied with his selections, he makes room for the next customer.

Morlan has been puttering around the shop making occasional comments
about displays being too high for people who aren't infected with
'giantism.' But still managing to come up with a decent list of items:
* flint and steel
* iron pikes
* 50 ft rope
* 8 darts
* A set of leather armor (sized for a child)
* 3 sets of wool mittens (child sized)
* An extra pair of boots
* 2 score of catseye sling bullets
* Flint and steel
* Small mirror
* Lamp oil, Olive oil, rendered animal fat
* Several earthenware jars
* 3 small glass jars
* Belt pouches
* Dried herbs and spices (nothing exotic)

He asks the shopkeeper for glass vials and some more exotic spices, but
is told such items aren't carried here. He takes his purchase and opens
up an amazing backpack. The pack contains many compartments, most of the
padded and sealed separately. From the way Morlan treats the pack, you
would guess this a family heirloom. He asks about getting a pony to
ride, but the shopkeeper tells him that he doesn't not supply those. He
would have to make his own arrangements at the stable. Morlan also asks
about maps of the caravan route. The shopkeeper tells him that Nagel
most likely has those.

Padriac the cleric quietly takes the items he's selected to the counter.
He barters some with the shopkeeper, exchanging his own studded leather
armor for a suit of scale mail that fits fairly well. In addition he
also picks up:
* Shield - Small
* Backpack
* Sacks - 5
* Belt
* Pouch, belt, small
* Skin for water
* Rope
* Tinderbox
* Warm clothes
Upon obtaining his supplies, Padriac retires to the inn.

Gord, the Ranger, picks up a short bow and two dozen arrows. ((OOC: due
to the hard drive crash I don't have anything else from you regarding
his items. Please let me know what else you wanted to pick up and what
you were planning on doing afterwards))

Elrohir Elensar, the elven magic user, picks up some arrows ((OOC: I
also don't have your shopping list))

Pirrik (yet ANOTHER elf) scours the shop for various items. He comes up
with:
* A throwing dagger
* A cutting dagger
* A short bow
* 2 dozen arrows w/quiver
* Warm clothes with gloves, boots, hooded cloak and cap. Fairly
plain looking clothes, really.
* Rope
* New backpack
* Shuttered lantern
* Oil
* Tinderbox
* A set of small tools

He asks about a grappling hook and is told that such items are not
carried in stock, but the blacksmith can make one in a few days time.
After he gets his purchase, he is content to hang around with the rest
of you.

The rest of the day:
Morlan visits with Ahmed back at the caravan, explaining his abilities
and asking how best he can be of use in the defense of the caravan.
Those of you who have hung around listen in on this.

"Master at Arms, Ahmed," Morlan begins. "I am known as Morlan Tsu and I
will be traveling with this fine caravan to the exalted city of
Mithraltir. I am a student of the scientific and mystical arts, though
my abilities are more geared toward the enchantment of items and
ointments than flashy spell-casting. How may I best serve the defense of
the caravan?"

You get the distinct impression that Ahmed is not a native speaker of
your version of common. His reply is slow and deliberate.
"Warn if animals approach. Scare off animals. Fight monsters. Protect
horses. You ride in middle wagon, you feet too short to keep up."

The conversation with Dinko goes a little better. The two compare
recipes for various dishes and Morlan gets authorization to use the
chuck wagon, so long as he doesn't try to cook any food without Dinko's
supervision.

Content with his new possessions, Tigereye begins to make his way over
to where the caravan is situated in the town center to introduce
himself.

Politely greeting Nagel as he wanders though the caravan's camp, he
chats in a friendly fashion with those he sees who are either obviously
affiliated with the caravan or a another new guard like himself.

As he passes where the horses are penned, one of the drovers makes a
mistake in the exercise circle, lunging one of the prize animals too
aggressively, causing it to rear and snort. The drover is thrown to the
ground and would have been trampled if it were not for Twilana. She is
there in a flash and draws the horse's attention away from the helpless
drover. She manages to calm the horse with steady, even talk and lead it
back to the communal pen.

All the while, not the slightest emotion shows on Twilana's face. That
changes when she turns on the drover.

"You have been warned and warned again, Simon," she says angrily.
"Gather your things and meet me at Nagel's tent to draw your final pay.
You have traveled your last mile with us."

Simon storms off and Twilana assigns the remaining drover to look after
the horses. "Now I must see if this benighted land has anyone who knows
one end of a horse from another."

((OOC: If any of you wish, I can roll for a secondary profession. With
the exception of the Gnome it is possible for any of you to have Horse
Handler or a similar profession. Sorry, Morlan, your people just don't
raise horses.))

Silent meets with Nagel and finds where to store the gear he's obtained.
Through pantomime, he asks Nagel for work to do. Patting the massive
warrior on his back, Nagel sets him up with a shift of guard duty. He
tells him to blow that whistle three long blasts if there's danger.
Silent smiles, salutes and begins to walk his "beat." All haphazardness
vanishes from him as he does so. He seems attentive and alert.

Pirrik sends the rest of the afternoon around the caravan as well. He
asks questions of everyone there, new and old (where are you from, what
do you do, etc.) and is a wealth of information as well. It's possible
that some of what he had to say is even true. However, you do doubt that
Mithraltir is a city built in the clouds.

One person who seems fascinated by him though is Ahmed. Perhaps it's
Pirrik's ability to speak so quickly when Ahmed speaks so poorly and
slowly, but the quick footed and quick tongued elf seems to have made a
friend in the large human. Towards the evening, Ahmed is heard to say,
"You drink. Ahmed buy."

If I've left anything out, or not answered any of your questions, please
let me know.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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If you have questions that need to be answered or actions you would like
your character to take before nightfall, please let me know. I hope to
work up the next posting over the weekend

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Nagel has paid for you to bunk down in the common room tonight. If you
want a private room, it will take the last of your coin (since you only
have about 2 - 3 gold left and you haven't been paid yet).

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Note: Morlan's player is not online today and thus unable to answer a
question I'd posed him. Rather than hold up the game, I'll let said
player answer me at his/her leisure and I'll incorporate that response
later this week.

As always - questions, complaints, suggestions, cash are welcome.

As the day lengthens, a brief but heavy rainstorm turns the town square
and the horse paddock into a muddy quagmire. Still, the various workers
at Nagel's caravan take it all in stride.

At one point, Ahmed is seen going into Nagel's tent. There is some
heated discussion in a language you don't understand. After which, Ahmed
comes out of the tent looking somewhat chagrinned. He first approaches
Morlan. He finds the gnome looking over some of the harnesses used to
secure the draft horses to the wagons. Morlan's repaired one set that
he's found a tear in. Ahmed goes to Morlan and - in an effort to come
closer to eye-to-eye with him, sets both knees in the muddy ground.
"Ahmed is sorry, Mor-lan," the big man says in his halting common. "You
offer to tell Ahmed how you defend caravan and Ahmed brush off of you. I
tell Master, Master tell Ahmed that Ahmed not stupid, Ahmed must not
make stupid choices. Ahmed here to make sorry and make right. Where
Ahmed lived, few wizards, most nasty bad men. Ahmed not understand much
magic. Ahmed understand this." With a speed that borders on the uncanny,
Ahmed reached behind his back and draws a huge scimitar. He sits back on
his heels and lays the weapon on his knees, taking care to keep mud off
of it.

"Tonight, in tavern, Ahmed buy beer," he says. "All guards talk, tell
Ahmed what they can do. Ahmed listen, make plans. But first, Ahmed have
duty to Mor-lan."

With a quick movement, Ahmed flips his scimitar on his knees so that the
blade is facing up. He runs his right palm gently across the edge,
drawing a thin line of blood. He holds that hand out to Morlan,
extending his scimitar in the other hand with an expectant look on his
face.

Meanwhile, Tigerseye walks away from the store, musing quietly to
himself. Perhaps he had been somewhat to harsh to the man, life can
fill a person with foolish, petty prejudices, no excuse for the
merchant's behavior, but still, hearing of the source of the anger left
a bitter taste in his throat. Nothing makes self destructive anger
linger in a person's heart like a perfectly good reason for such rage,
misdirected though it may be now. He has seen such anger caused in
others far too often, and seen it used by others for their own gains.
Well, nothing to be done about it now, it isn't like the man would be
interested in hearing his opinions on the folly of keeping such anger
within, and maybe he really doesn't have the right to lecture others on
morality...

Putting the topic out of his mind for now, Tigerseye begins to make his
way to the merchant encampment. He listens with interest to Morlan and
Ahmed, pleased that there is one who is a student of the arcane arts in
the group, he listens carefully to Ahmed's accent, trying to discern if
he has been to the man's homeland during his travels.

When the interaction between Morlan and Ahmed is finished, Tigerseye
will chat with the man about his homeland, asking things like which
city/region he is from, why he is traveling. Tigerseye will then ask
about what kind of creatures that they can expect along the road.
"Ahmed is from dessert land," the big man replies. "Much sand, little
water. Ahmed tired of tending camels, fighting dessert bandits, sand
worms. Master find Ahmed when Ahmed is near death from battle with sand
worm. Master nurse Ahmed back to health. Ahmed work for Master ever
since. This trip, Ahmed think we see animals like wolves, maybe spiders.
Could see bear-owl. Orcs, Goblins, Kobolds, bandits. Nothing guards
cannot handle."

After speaking for a time with Ahmed, Tigerseye makes his way by the
horse coral, watching as a drover finds himself very much out of work.
Considering his options for a moment, he makes his way over to Twilana,
impressed by her obvious skill with horses. Catching Twilana's
attention, he introduces himself in a soft, formal and polite tone.
"Greetings, Horse Mistress Twilana, I am known as Tigerseye and recently
signed on to this caravan as a guard. I could not help but hear of your
troubles with your former associate, and while my knowledge of horses is
thin at best, should you have trouble finding a properly qualified
candidate, I would be glad to assist as much as possible. While I lack
experience, I think you will find I can pick up new skills quite
swiftly."

She looks Tigerseye over carefully before asking him, "And are you not
afraid to get dirty? Tending to horses is not clean work. And you'll not
ride them. None save their eventual owners may ride these horses. Are
you still willing?"

"Learning a new skill is rarely easy and as for the dirt, well, there
are plenty of far less pleasant ways to get dirty. I planned on
availing myself of any open water we came upon during our journey
anyway. I understand completely about not riding another's steed,
though, I would be interested in learning more on how to ride at some
point, perhaps on one of the caravan's horses in the evenings?

"We shall see about that," Twilana says. "But first, we must see how the
horses accept you."

After providing him with more appropriate clothing, Twilana then leads
Tigerseye into the exercise ring. Tigerseye isn't a small man, but this
horse towers over him. She hands him a long lead-line and says, "Any
horse, but especially a war-horse, must be exercised daily. It must be
groomed and cleaned and fed. If you hold fear in your heart towards a
horse, he will sense it and he will take advantage of you. Once that
happens, it is almost impossible to gain the horse's respect. Some then
resort to cruelty to impose their will upon the horse. That may seem to
work for a time, but the horse will be resentful and looking for a
chance to get even. Now, take the lead line and begin to walk Tanist,
here. Walk him first in a tight circle. As you feel comfortable, let out
more lead line. Try not to get dizzy when he picks up the pace."

Everything goes fine for a while. Tigerseye has let out most of the lead
line. Tanist is moving at a fast trot. Then, Twilana whistles sharply
and Tanist starts running much faster. Tigerseye struggles to keep up,
but he is eventually tripped up in the line and sprawls face-first in
the mud.

As he reclaims his feet, the echoes of laughter ringing in his ears,
Tigerseye notices that Twilana is not laughing. Instead she is studying
him carefully.

Tigerseye brushes off the mud from his face and clothes carefully.
Glancing first at Twilana, he gives her an amused smile at his own
predicament, and then walks over to pick the line up again, checking to
see if the horse appears calm. As he's munching an apple given to him
by Twilana, he does seem rather calm, if perhaps a bit smug. For the
remainder of the exercise time, the incident is not repeated.

For the remainder of the day, Twilana shows Tigerseye the basics of
grooming, brushing, cleaning, hoof care and how to feed the horses.
Despite the chill in the air, he is a sweaty mess by the time they are
done. Twilana appraises his work and ability to learn and responds with,
"You'll do. But your stench could kill a dragon." Digging a silver out
of her pouch, she tosses it to him, saying, "Take this to the innkeeper.
Have him wash the clothes and run you a hot bath. Don't dally over your
breakfast in the morning. I expect you here before the other guards.
I'll square things with Ahmed, but I want you to consider protection of
the horses your number one priority in case of an attack."

Tigerseye makes his way to the inn, and the hot bath. When he makes his
way into the common room, it's already pretty full. His fellow guards
are there, of course, as are the rest of the caravan workers and it
seems just about everyone in town.

The reason for the crowding is soon obvious. There's a bard passing
through. She's come up from the lands to the south and is heading east
from here (you're heading west). It's a rare occurrence that a real bard
passes through this hamlet. There's fresh sawdust on the floor, the
candles are neatly trimmed and the food is actually good tonight. Lamb
stew, not some mystery meat for a change.

The bard's name is Destiny. She appears to be human. She starts out her
performance by juggling knives while relaying the regional happenings.
She starts out with two knives and ends up with 7. At one point, a local
says loudly, "Ya, I bet they ain't even sharp." She responds by throwing
the knife, sticking it in the stool right between the local's legs.
"Shaper than that and longer, I'll wager," she grins.

The news out of the south is not good. King Nesor is trying to expand
his kingdom again. He's attacked neighboring kingdoms and sent a flood
of people out of their homes. Rumor has it that he is also looking for
some artifact that will grant him immortality. Destiny believes that
this place is safe from Nesor, as there likely isn't anything he wants
here; unless it's to control the pass and that could be done much closer
to the pass itself. But such a move would take a great deal of time and
resources. First a garrison would have to be established.

After her "news report" she uncases her lyre and tunes it. With a clear,
strong voice she sings several regional favorites and some of her own
songs as well. One that goes over quite well is a story about a band of
adventurers who find what they believe to be the Head of Vecna. (As
novice adventures, you've heard dark rumors about powerful relic /
artifacts called the Eye and Hand of Vecna. These relics grant their
owners terrible power when used to replace the body part they
represent.) In the song, the adventures argue over who will get to
"wear" the head of Vecna. Since they were all evil, they didn't care
that - if such an artifact actually existed - it would be terribly evil.
The argument comes to blows and all but two of the members are slain.
One finally convinces the other to lop off his head and replace it with
the Head of Vecna. Surprisingly enough, this does not restore the
beheaded adventurer to life. The loan survivor is easily picked off by
the bard the party had left for dead after robbing some time earlier.

After the applause, a bowl is passed around the common room for people
to toss coins in. Destiny pays no attention to the bowl as it makes its
way around the room, instead crying out, "By Wotan One-eye, singing is
thirsty work! If I don't have a pitcher of wine in front of me soon,
I'll likely never be able to sing again!"

Nagel roars, "That cannot be! Tap your finest barrel, innkeeper. I'll
not see the world deprived of this voice."

Twilana, also sitting at Nagel's table, rolls her eyes at this but
remains silent as Destiny makes her way to the table. Before she sits,
she says, "I'll sing and perform more later, after my throat is eased
and the front of my belly not meeting the back of it. I suggest you all
eat, drink and be merry."

During this lull, Ahmed gathers all the new guards at one large table
and sets a tall mug of beer before each of them.
"Now," he says. "We will talk of what you do and how Ahmed may use it to
defend caravan. What are your skills?"

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

First off, just let me say that I'm very pleased with the ability of
people to post and respond to posts. So, this is in no way a criticism.

Rather, think of this as a clarification of the guidelines as well as
some new information and incentives.

Furthermore, I am TOTALLY stealing this from another PBEM I game in,
this one based on the Champions / Hero System rules. I've played in that
particular game for about 3 years now.

What am I talking about? Quarterly report cards, that's what. Don't
worry, nobody can lose anything in this system, you just have the chance
to gain some bonus experience points. I'll be grading on such things as
the quality of your posts (as I perceive that subjective value. After
all, I'm the DM). Also, you'll be graded on how well you role play your
character, your ability to interact with PC and NPCs, solve puzzles,
etc.

To assist you in this, here are some further guidelines:

Go ahead and be introspective, share the thoughts that your character is
thinking. From now on, EVERYTHING you send me in a character post is
fair game. If you do not want it posted to the group - indicate that
somehow. Something like: <<OOC: - I am examining the elf with the intent
of finding his vulnerable spot to assassinate him later>>

Some of you have written some more introspective posts and I've actually
chopped some of those down a bit, not sure if you wanted that
information shared with the group or not. This way, all the guess work
is taken out of the equation.

So, 4 times a year - assuming we play that long :-) - I'll be grading
your performance. Think of it as a less-stressful version of the P.E.

Also, there will be...surprises from time to time. One never knows when
exceptional performance may merit an exceptional award.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

As the day lengthens, a brief but heavy rainstorm turns the town square
and the horse paddock into a muddy quagmire. Still, the various workers
at Nagel's caravan take it all in stride.

At one point, Ahmed is seen going into Nagel's tent. There is some
heated discussion in a language you don't understand. After which, Ahmed
comes out of the tent looking somewhat chagrinned. He first approaches
Morlan. He finds the gnome looking over some of the harnesses used to
secure the draft horses to the wagons. Morlan's repaired one set that
he's found a tear in. Ahmed goes to Morlan and - in an effort to come
closer to eye-to-eye with him, sets both knees in the muddy ground.
"Ahmed is sorry, Mor-lan," the big man says in his halting common. "You
offer to tell Ahmed how you defend caravan and Ahmed brush off of you. I
tell Master, Master tell Ahmed that Ahmed not stupid, Ahmed must not
make stupid choices. Ahmed here to make sorry and make right. Where
Ahmed lived, few wizards, most nasty bad men. Ahmed not understand much
magic. Ahmed understand this." With a speed that borders on the uncanny,
Ahmed reached behind his back and draws a huge scimitar. He sits back on
his heels and lays the weapon on his knees, taking care to keep mud off
of it.

"Tonight, in tavern, Ahmed buy beer," he says. "All guards talk, tell
Ahmed what they can do. Ahmed listen, make plans. But first, Ahmed have
duty to Mor-lan."

With a quick movement, Ahmed flips his scimitar on his knees so that the
blade is facing up. He runs his right palm gently across the edge,
drawing a thin line of blood. He holds that hand out to Morlan,
extending his scimitar in the other hand with an expectant look on his
face.

I quickly revise my opinion of Ahmed, and take the saber, hold it as
Ahmed did with my hand above it. I look questioning at him, to ensure
I'm doing the expected. When I see the confirming look I go ahead and
run my palm across the sword as well and shake his hand.

"Ahmed, you can by the first beer, but I'll buy the second."

A wide grin splits his face along with a look of relief. "Ahmed not like
have Master upset. Ahmed not like have Mor-lan upset. Now all are happy.
We talk at tavern tonight. Now Ahmed must make work Master has set
before."

Meanwhile, Tigerseye walks away from the store, musing quietly to
himself. Perhaps he had been somewhat to harsh to the man, life can
fill a person with foolish, petty prejudices, no excuse for the
merchant's behavior, but still, hearing of the source of the anger left
a bitter taste in his throat. Nothing makes self destructive anger
linger in a person's heart like a perfectly good reason for such rage,
misdirected though it may be now. He has seen such anger caused in
others far too often, and seen it used by others for their own gains.
Well, nothing to be done about it now, it isn't like the man would be
interested in hearing his opinions on the folly of keeping such anger
within, and maybe he really doesn't have the right to lecture others on
morality...

Putting the topic out of his mind for now, Tigerseye begins to make his
way to the merchant encampment. He listens with interest to Morlan and
Ahmed, pleased that there is one who is a student of the arcane arts in
the group, he listens carefully to Ahmed's accent, trying to discern if
he has been to the man's homeland during his travels.

When the interaction between Morlan and Ahmed is finished, Tigerseye
will chat with the man about his homeland, asking things like which
city/region he is from, why he is traveling. Tigerseye will then ask
about what kind of creatures that they can expect along the road.
"Ahmed is from dessert land," the big man replies. "Much sand, little
water. Ahmed tired of tending camels, fighting dessert bandits, sand
worms. Master find Ahmed when Ahmed is near death from battle with sand
worm. Master nurse Ahmed back to health. Ahmed work for Master ever
since. This trip, Ahmed think we see animals like wolves, maybe spiders.
Could see bear-owl. Orcs, Goblins, Kobolds, bandits. Nothing guards
cannot handle."

After speaking for a time with Ahmed, Tigerseye makes his way by the
horse coral, watching as a drover finds himself very much out of work.
Considering his options for a moment, he makes his way over to Twilana,
impressed by her obvious skill with horses. Catching Twilana's
attention, he introduces himself in a soft, formal and polite tone.
"Greetings, Horse Mistress Twilana, I am known as Tigerseye and recently
signed on to this caravan as a guard. I could not help but hear of your
troubles with your former associate, and while my knowledge of horses is
thin at best, should you have trouble finding a properly qualified
candidate, I would be glad to assist as much as possible. While I lack
experience, I think you will find I can pick up new skills quite
swiftly."

She looks Tigerseye over carefully before asking him, "And are you not
afraid to get dirty? Tending to horses is not clean work. And you'll not
ride them. None save their eventual owners may ride these horses. Are
you still willing?"

"Learning a new skill is rarely easy and as for the dirt, well, there
are plenty of far less pleasant ways to get dirty. I planned on
availing myself of any open water we came upon during our journey
anyway. I understand completely about not riding another's steed,
though, I would be interested in learning more on how to ride at some
point, perhaps on one of the caravan's horses in the evenings?

"We shall see about that," Twilana says. "But first, we must see how the
horses accept you."

After providing him with more appropriate clothing, Twilana then leads
Tigerseye into the exercise ring. Tigerseye isn't a small man, but this
horse towers over him. She hands him a long lead-line and says, "Any
horse, but especially a war-horse, must be exercised daily. It must be
groomed and cleaned and fed. If you hold fear in your heart towards a
horse, he will sense it and he will take advantage of you. Once that
happens, it is almost impossible to gain the horse's respect. Some then
resort to cruelty to impose their will upon the horse. That may seem to
work for a time, but the horse will be resentful and looking for a
chance to get even. Now, take the lead line and begin to walk Tanist,
here. Walk him first in a tight circle. As you feel comfortable, let out
more lead line. Try not to get dizzy when he picks up the pace."

Everything goes fine for a while. Tigerseye has let out most of the lead
line. Tanist is moving at a fast trot. Then, Twilana whistles sharply
and Tanist starts running much faster. Tigerseye struggles to keep up,
but he is eventually tripped up in the line and sprawls face-first in
the mud.

As he reclaims his feet, the echoes of laughter ringing in his ears,
Tigerseye notices that Twilana is not laughing. Instead she is studying
him carefully.

Tigerseye brushes off the mud from his face and clothes carefully.
Glancing first at Twilana, he gives her an amused smile at his own
predicament, and then walks over to pick the line up again, checking to
see if the horse appears calm. As he's munching an apple given to him
by Twilana, he does seem rather calm, if perhaps a bit smug. For the
remainder of the exercise time, the incident is not repeated.

For the remainder of the day, Twilana shows Tigerseye the basics of
grooming, brushing, cleaning, hoof care and how to feed the horses.
Despite the chill in the air, he is a sweaty mess by the time they are
done. Twilana appraises his work and ability to learn and responds with,
"You'll do. But your stench could kill a dragon." Digging a silver out
of her pouch, she tosses it to him, saying, "Take this to the innkeeper.
Have him wash the clothes and run you a hot bath. Don't dally over your
breakfast in the morning. I expect you here before the other guards.
I'll square things with Ahmed, but I want you to consider protection of
the horses your number one priority in case of an attack."

Tigerseye makes his way to the inn, and the hot bath. When he makes his
way into the common room, it's already pretty full. His fellow guards
are there, of course, as are the rest of the caravan workers and it
seems just about everyone in town.

The reason for the crowding is soon obvious. There's a bard passing
through. She's come up from the lands to the south and is heading east
from here (you're heading west). It's a rare occurrence that a real bard
passes through this hamlet. There's fresh sawdust on the floor, the
candles are neatly trimmed and the food is actually good tonight. Lamb
stew, not some mystery meat for a change.

The bard's name is Destiny. She appears to be human. She starts out her
performance by juggling knives while relaying the regional happenings.
She starts out with two knives and ends up with 7. At one point, a local
says loudly, "Ya, I bet they ain't even sharp." She responds by throwing
the knife, sticking it in the stool right between the local's legs.
"Shaper than that and longer, I'll wager," she grins.

The news out of the south is not good. King Nesor is trying to expand
his kingdom again. He's attacked neighboring kingdoms and sent a flood
of people out of their homes. Rumor has it that he is also looking for
some artifact that will grant him immortality. Destiny believes that
this place is safe from Nesor, as there likely isn't anything he wants
here; unless it's to control the pass and that could be done much closer
to the pass itself. But such a move would take a great deal of time and
resources. First a garrison would have to be established.

After her "news report" she uncases her lyre and tunes it. With a clear,
strong voice she sings several regional favorites and some of her own
songs as well. One that goes over quite well is a story about a band of
adventurers who find what they believe to be the Head of Vecna. (As
novice adventures, you've heard dark rumors about powerful relic /
artifacts called the Eye and Hand of Vecna. These relics grant their
owners terrible power when used to replace the body part they
represent.) In the song, the adventures argue over who will get to
"wear" the head of Vecna. Since they were all evil, they didn't care
that - if such an artifact actually existed - it would be terribly evil.
The argument comes to blows and all but two of the members are slain.
One finally convinces the other to lop off his head and replace it with
the Head of Vecna. Surprisingly enough, this does not restore the
beheaded adventurer to life. The loan survivor is easily picked off by
the bard the party had left for dead after robbing some time earlier.

After the applause, a bowl is passed around the common room for people
to toss coins in. Destiny pays no attention to the bowl as it makes its
way around the room, instead crying out, "By Wotan One-eye, singing is
thirsty work! If I don't have a pitcher of wine in front of me soon,
I'll likely never be able to sing again!"

Nagel roars, "That cannot be! Tap your finest barrel, innkeeper. I'll
not see the world deprived of this voice."

Twilana, also sitting at Nagel's table, rolls her eyes at this but
remains silent as Destiny makes her way to the table. Before she sits,
she says, "I'll sing and perform more later, after my throat is eased
and the front of my belly not meeting the back of it. I suggest you all
eat, drink and be merry."

During this lull, Ahmed gathers all the new guards at one large table
and sets a tall mug of beer before each of them.
"Now," he says. "We will talk of what you do and how Ahmed may use it to
defend caravan. What are your skills?"

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

All in all, Tigerseye could not remember a bath that had been more
blissful that the one he was in right now, his feet and hands dangling
over the sides and his face peaking just enough out of the hot water so
that he could breath. He certainly had bathed in far larger tubs in the
past, with far more luxurious surroundings, but the combination of how
long it had been since he had been able to have a proper bath in warm
water, (compared to, at best, a quick dunk in a freezing cold lake,) and
how filthy he had been after working with the horses all day resulted in
a sense of complete and utter euphoria. If he wasn't feeling so darn
hungry he probably would just stay here until the water was ice cold.
With a mournful sigh he pulled himself out of the water, reaching for a
towel to dry off.

As he makes his way into the common room he watches the bard curiously
as he makes his way to the table with the rest of the guards. Pleased
to find a free seat at the table, he calls over a server and requests
the same stew and ale as the rest of the group. Sampling the
surprisingly good stew, (still a little bland to his palette but tasty
none the less, and he happily mops up the last of it with a chunk of
bread) he looks over the group, curious to see what manner of people he
will be traveling with for the next few weeks.

He listens to the "news report" with interest, not knowing that much
about local politics, Tigerseye is mainly interested in hearing where
trouble might be brewing. Though he doesn't show it all that much, he
finds the story about the head of Vecna strangely amusing and when the
bard sits down at the table, waiting for her meal, he grins at her in a
friendly fashion and says, "So the bard saves the day, hmm? I hope that
the bard of the tale pitched that head into a nice deep dark hole
somewhere."

In reply, Destiny reaches into a sack at her feet, seems about to pull
something out and then grins and says "Now that would be telling,
wouldn't it?"

Tigerseye listens as Ahmed asks for all of the guard's various talents,
watching the others with interest as they describe themselves. At his
turn, those who study his appearance would see a youngish man, who looks
most probably human, with warm light brown skin and long, pitch black,
hair, (currently rather damp and in a tight braid that goes down to his
waist,) taller than most, (almost six foot,) and lightly built. Those
with any knowledge of other, more exotic cultures would probably guess
that he, or at the very least his ancestors, hailed from a land close to
Ahmed's, but more jungle than dessert. While Tigerseye speaks common
very well, he has a definite light accent and a tendency to speak in a
formal and somewhat archaic form, like he had learned the language
primarily from old books some time ago. The others can also guess that
the probable source of his unusual call-name, has its source in both his
delicate, somewhat feline facial structure, and very unusual golden hued
eyes. Currently he is dressed in his spare traveling clothes, which
look to be of quality, but definitely starting to get very shabby -
though well maintained, the colors seem to have been once black and dark
brown, but the black has faded to a dark grey. Another thing which
stands out is his sword, a long, thin, curved blade that looks local to
neither his possible homeland, or to these lands. The weapon has no
visible markings upon it, but looks to be of a high quality and well
maintained.

"My skills? Well, I am quite reasonably well versed with a blade, and
almost as good with a bow. Mistress Twilana," he politely nods his head
towards her, "has generously given me the opportunity to learn something
of her craft and so I will be also assisting her with the horses. I
also have some knowledge of the arcane arts and some ancient lore, but,
at this current time, my skills in such are not yet practiced enough to
be truly used."

Ahmed says, "Then you guard horses. You must keep them calm and safe in
attack. Calm not problem with war-horses, but draft horses can panic."

After Destiny, the bard, finishes her set, Silent claps along and grins
foolishly. He drops a few copper in the bowl as that is all he can
afford.

During this lull, Ahmed gathers all the new guards at one large table
and sets a tall mug of beer before each of them. "Now," he says. "We
will talk of what you do and how Ahmed may use it to defend caravan.
What are your skills?"

Silent mimes sword, spear, bow, throwing ax, including a comedic bit
where he pretends to throw an invisible ax and then pantomimes he is a
bandit and it sticks in his chest. He signs that he's killed 2 foes and
he's more than a match for what they'll meet on the trail. He also lets
Ahmed know that he is willing to be in first in battle or guarding the
gnome mage if necessary.

Ahmed laughs at the antics but says, "You are fighter. That no doubt.
Where you go depends on what is attacking. Animals and dumb monsters
will almost always go for horses. They go for draft horses first, then
war horses. Smarter creatures try for wagons to find loot to carry off.
You see where need is, go there but listen for other attacks. You have
whistle. Blow hard if you overwhelmed and Ahmed help if can.

Silent watches and listens attentively at what the others say. At the
earliest opportunity, either tonight or later on the journey, he tries
to get Tigerseye to spar with him. Then after that, he tries to get Gord
or Padraic or even Pirrik to spar, to see how they fight.

Padraic says "I am able to hold my own with a blade, but my devotion to
Heimdall grants much more impressive abilities. How would you like me
to help defend the caravan?"

Ahmed says, "You are cleric then. Follower of a warrior god. This is
good. Ahmed can use. We discuss prayers you can give that increase our
chances. You know Bless? Can you make Light? These help us defend
caravan. Also, healing of wounds helpful. If you know Command prayer,
use it to make key enemy trip or fall. Otherwise, same as fighters.

Pirrik is draining his mug when the eyes of the assembled turn to him.
He eventually notices this from around the rim and through the glass
bottom of the huge stein. He makes a complicated series of eye and brow
movements by way of begging pardon, and finished the draught. Finally,
he plunks the stein down, belches, and clears his throat.

"Ah, fine ale. Fine. Thank you, Ahmed. Well, my name's Pirrik, as I may
have mentioned, and I'm an elf, as may be obvious. Um, well," he falters
for a moment, perhaps trying to remember what stories he's told the
various members of the caravan. "I'm not a toe-to-toe warrior, like some
of you, though I know which end of a sword goes where. I work best when
I can get the drop on the enemy, so I tend to try to choose my moment.
You might see me hanging back during a fight, or not see me at all, but
trust that I'm just looking for the right opening. And when I find it,
you can expect results."

Pirrik pauses and realizes that he has stood during this little speech.
He sits down.

"Uh, I'm also handy with a bow - but what elf isn't, right? If it's a
fight I don't think I can enter, I'll do my best to pick off who I can
with a shaft or two. If you're in the mix with someone - or something, I
suppose - and need it softened, call out. I'm a good shot, but I won't
risk hitting one of you unless you ask me to."

"I hope that sounds useful." He reaches for a new mug, when something
occurs to him. "Oh, I should mention that I'm a bit of a hobbiest - a
tinker, so to speak. I delight in figuring out mechanisms, and clever
puzzles - challenges, you will - that require close inspection, a steady
hand, and a keen eye. Even language puzzles, like old scrolls and such
are not outside my interest. So, you know, should you run across
anything like that on the... road, through the...snowy... mountain
pass.... Well, okay, not all that likely I suppose. Still. Give me a
shout if you trip over anything like that, right? Cheers."

Morlan enjoyed the Bard's tale and hopes the Destiny plans to continue
on with the caravan, but is looking forward to hearing more of his
companions so quickly joins Ahmed.
((OOC: She isn't planning on going with you. You folk are traveling
West. She's heading North.))

Morlan takes a long pull on his glass, appreciating its size. Yes, the
big people DO serve it in pints. "I am by profession a leather smith,
and will help of course help you friends with your equipment. And as
you can see, I'm a Gnome and like all my kind know up from down
anywhere. But I suppose most you will be far more interested in the
studies I undertook with my uncle."

Morlan takes several items out of an odd though ingeniously constructed
leather backpack laced with ties, pockets, and individually padded
compartments. "You see I'm interested in how magic is stored,
transferred and lastly expressed, and I was encouraged by my uncle.
These are some of the results."

"For example here are two little surprises, I've loaded these two darts
loaded with mystic energy I can throw with little chance of missing and
believe me they pack quite a punch. And here is a flask that releases a
gas when it breaks that will put a group out cold. I can make more of
both, but it will take me a little time and I'm also working on other
fun"

"Now, I can't let them get too far, nor too long away from me, less they
fail, but in a fight, a flask or two targeted by one of you with
better/bigger arms might be more helpful. Now, which of you thinks your
arm the best?"

Morlan watches the group hoping to have generated a little friendly
rivalry.

Gord lets you all know that, as a ranger, he is more than comfortable
with scouting ahead and determining what threats could be laying in
wait. He is comfortable with a bow and sword and also enjoys a bonus to
damage when fighting various monsters.

Elrohir Elensar tells you that his skills are mystical in nature and
related to more changing the perception of reality as opposed to
actually effecting change in the environment.. Ahmed suggests that the
spells cast be used more as a diversion than anything else. "When you
use the Fantom Force spell, do not try make big dragon attacking. Make
small changes that are easy to accept. Like a pit of spikes that opens
under charging monsters."

When Silent offered to spare with the others, Destiny began to grin
wildly. She spoke to the innkeeper and had him clear off a space in the
center of the room and brings out a set of wooden swords.

Destiny says to you all, "Here's a chance to make a little extra coin,
boys. These swords can raise a nasty bruise, but they're not likely to
cause permanent harm. I've got songs that can soothe any minor wounds
you get and what I can't handle, I'm sure the cleric here can. I'll be
playing something appropriate on my lyre, so the betting should be
brisk." She grabs Silent by the bicep and says, "My money's on you,
big-boy!"

She explains the rules - First to score 3 hits on their opponent wins.
As "bookie" she takes a percentage of the bets and shares it with the
winner of each match. (The loser still gets something, just not enough.)
She's putting up a matched set of throwing daggers as the grand prize.
To the spell-casters, she says, "Sorry, gentlemen, but no magic in this
contest. It scares the locals."
If you do NOT want to take part in the sparring session, let me know as
soon as possible.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Tigerseye's smile broadens as Destiny almost pulls something out of her
bag, "Yes, I suppose that it would be telling, though I would hate to
see the effect such a thing would have on your travel rations and the
like in there, though, I suppose rations tend to have an evil and vile
taste no matter what is done to them."

He observes the other's descriptions of their talents attentively, and
seems relatively pleased with what he hears. Before Destiny suggests
the sparring competition, he tells Silent that he would be honored to
spar with him both later on in the evening and during their journey if
he wishes. He stretches with a small wince before apologizing with a
half smile that he would not be at his best tonight, exercising the
caravan horses seem to have made him use a few muscles he must have
previously been neglecting.

Tigerseye seems quite fascinated by Morlan's backpack, tilting his head
to one side and leaning in closer for a better look when the said object
is opened up. In answer to his question, Tigerseye shrugs, "I think I
am probably better with a blade, and such things would probably spook
the horses, so I am sorry to say I will have to pass up the opportunity.
However, if you have some time during our journey, I would greatly
appreciate it if we could discuss how you go about creating such useful
tools, unless is it some kind of trade secret of course. Being somewhat
of a scholar of the arcane, I must confess your darts have tweaked my
curiosity." He gives a toothy grin while indulging in what must be a
pun on his own nickname, "Curiosity may kill this cat, but they also say
that satisfaction brought it back."

When Silent offered to spare with the others, Destiny began to grin
wildly. She spoke to the innkeeper and had him clear off a space in the
center of the room and brings out a set of wooden swords.

Destiny says to you all, "Here's a chance to make a little extra coin,
boys. These swords can raise a nasty bruise, but they're not likely to
cause permanent harm. I've got songs that can soothe any minor wounds
you get and what I can't handle, I'm sure the cleric here can. I'll be
playing something appropriate on my lyre, so the betting should be
brisk." She grabs Silent by the bicep and says, "My money's on you,
big-boy!"

She explains the rules - First to score 3 hits on their opponent wins.
As "bookie" she takes a percentage of the bets and shares it with the
winner of each match. (The loser still gets something, just not enough.)
She's putting up a matched set of throwing daggers as the grand prize.
To the spell-casters, she says, "Sorry, gentlemen, but no magic in this
contest. It scares the locals."

While Morlan is a bit grieved that's it's going to be bashing rather
that the throwing he was trying to suggest he's happy to see a "bit 'o
game" in the makes. Though swordwork's not for him, wagering is. He
looks form Tigerseye to Gord and back again. And decides to place a
gold piece on Tigerseye, he walks up to Destiny and says "I'll place a
gold piece on the Cleric", not sure himself why.

"One on the cleric it is, Master Gnome," Destiny says, taking his coin.

When the bard suggests the "competition," Tigerseye only ponders for a
moment before nodding his head in agreement. Not only would a bit of
extra coin be very welcome, maybe he could even consider splurging and
having another bath before they set off if he did well, but, unknowingly
echoing Silent's inclinations, also it would give him an excellent
chance to see the capacities of the rest of his new companions. If it
all possible, he tries to have his first bout with Silent, after all,
who knows if both of them will make it past the first round, and he
would like to keep his promise if at all possible. Considering the
half-orc's impressive muscles for a moment, Tigerseye does have to admit
that probably does greatly reduce his chances to have Silent in the
first round... he shrugs, ah well.

Padraic smiles to himself after hearing the challenge. He knows that he
most likely will not fare well over Silent, and quite possibly many of
the other participants, but it has been a while since he has been able
to test his skills. The other inhabitants at the Sanctuary of Heimdall
respected his combat prowess, because of his speed and experience, but
it would be interesting to test himself against others. He is excited
about the opportunity and it can be seen in his whole appearance. His
eyes, normally a deep blue, look as if they could glow if there were
less light. His back straightens and although he has rings under his
eyes his face looks much more energized than it has since anyone has met
him. There is even a small curl to the edges of his normally stoic
mouth.

Anyone who notices the normally quiet unassuming cleric for the first
time can see that he is tall for an elf, fare of skin and hair. He
wears clothing in red and green that fits well to his body, although it
can also be seen that it has been travel worn, and could use some
repair. He wears a necklace with the figure of a rams head carved out
of wood and stained a rich dark red. After his initial outburst of
emotion he will resume his careful observation of those around him, but
you can still see the light in his blue eyes.

Destiny takes Silent by the hand and leads him to the improvised ring.
She mutters something in a guttural language to him (with so many elves,
you recognize it as Orcish. In response, a silly grin passes over his
face before being replaced by a fierce scowl. He grasps the wooden
shield and sword offered him and makes a big show of biting the shield
and banging it with the sword, looking savage.
Destiny begins to strum her lyre and starts to work the crowd. The
lights in the inn seem to dim, except for the ring. After a short while,
she asks the crowd who they would like to see face the Orc. The crowd
calls for the ranger, the ranger!

Destiny turns to Gord and beckons him to the ring. Though he protests
that he does not fight for amusement or coin, he is still convinced by
the charms of the lovely bard. The two combatants enter the ring and, at
the sounding of a clear, bell-like tone, begin.

With the sound still ringing, Silent rushes his opponent. Gord, however,
easily gets his shield in the path of the wooden sword. In response,
Silent ducks under the return attack instead of using his shield. The
force of the blow leaves the ranger somewhat unbalanced and open. Silent
ignores a wide opening to the head for a more difficult shot to the
ribs. His sword still connects gently but his attack left him open to a
counter-attack which also scores. The crowd eats this all up, roaring
its approval.
For the next 5 minutes, neither party scores a hit as they circle each
other warily. Finally, there is a flurry of blows almost too fast for
the eye to follow. Destiny declares Silent the winner, to which Gord
agrees.
"Don't worry, though," Destiny says. "This is double-elimination. You'll
all have a chance to see the ranger fight again."
Both the victor and the loser of the fight regain their seats and two
new combatants are introduced.

When it is his turn to go, Tigerseye makes a big show of "testing out"
his "new" weapon with a few flourishes, partially to get a feel for it's
balance, and mostly to try and excite crowd a bit to increase the bets
being placed.

When it comes time for Padraic to test his strength, it can be seen that
he carries himself competently with fighting implements. Before he
begins he will kneel and say "Heimdall ykkarr nafns vegr, fregna sem
gefi heill stadhr"
He will then bow to his opponent and say in common "Fare thee well."

It's obvious from the start that both of these men are "thinking
fighters." They both rely upon speed and observation of their foe.
Tigerseye favors a style that involves trying to dart in and out of
range where as Padraic tries to force his opponent to commit to an
attack by seeming to create openings where there are none.

It seems that Padraic has a slight advantage in that he is more used to
the shorter blade of his practice sword than Tigerseye seems to be. In
the end, that advantage seems to be enough as the cleric outscores his
foe 3 to 1. Tigerseye graciously accepts his defeat and congratulates
Padraic before both return to their seats.

Elrohir stands and says, "Though the mystic arts are more my specialty,
I am competent with a blade. The ale having gone to Pirrik's head, he
cheers on the fighters and then somehow finds himself in the ring.
While it's true that Elrohir does know which end of a sword is which, he
finds Pirrik to be much quicker. Pirrik feints and dodges and plinks
away with little jabs in ticklish places. "Hey, you didn't say they had
to be powerful blows!" He manages to land 3 unanswered blows on his foe
and claims the victory.

Two brawlers from the town (Timirik and Ralst) climb into the ring at
that point. It's obvious that neither one of them has any skill with a
sword, but instead use them as clubs. Timirik wins this fight.

Destiny then says, "Round one is over. We have Silent, Padriac, Pirrik
and Timirik as the victors, with Gord, Tigerseye, Elrohir and Ralst at
one loss each."

The next two battles are from the losers bracket. Gord fights Elrohir
and Tigerseye fights the townie Ralst. Unsurprisingly, Gord and
Tigerseye win their battles without problems. 3 silver pieces to each of
the losers soothes their wounded pride, however.

In the next set of battles, Pirrik looses to Silent (though it's a near
thing) and Timirik loses to Padriac.

At the end of round two, the victors are Silent and Padriac with no
losses. Gord, Tigerseye Pirrik and Timirik each have one loss.

In round 3, Pirrik and Timirik are eliminated by Tigerseye and Gord.
Each loser of this round walks away with 5 silver.

Round 4 matches Silent with Tigerseye and Padriac with Gord. Silent
loses his first battle this time, making a grand show of clutching his
"fatal" wound, staggering around and falling to the ground. His
performance draws quite a bit of applause and a fair deal of coin
changes hand. Padriac also loses his first fight to the ranger in a
quick and decisive battle.

Destiny takes the 4 final fighters aside and sings over each one of
them. As the music washes over them, they feel the fatigue and minor
aches of the battle wash away as well. Refreshed, they begin the
semi-final round.

Silent dispatches Padriac in a bout that lasts for nearly half an hour.
For placing 4th in the contest, Padraic receives 1 gold.

In the next battle, Tigerseye gives a good account of himself, but still
falls before the powerful ranger. Tigerseye receives 2 gold for placing
3rd.

The final battle is the same as the 1st, Silent vs. Gord. After a quick
pantomime, Silent gets his wishes across and Gord agrees. This is a
"cord match." Each fighter holds one end of a short rope in his off hand
and the wooden blade in his good hand. The battle ends when the rope is
dropped.

By the time this battle is over, both fighters are dripping in sweat.
Blows and counter-blows come too quickly to follow. At last, Gord slips
in a puddle of sweat and looses his grip on the rope. Silent is crowned
the winner and receives the matched pair of daggers as well as 5 gold.
Gord receives 3 gold for placing second.

Each of you get 15 silver (1.5 gold) for participating as part of
Destiny's "take." Morlan receives an extra gold for his wager on Padriac

Destiny takes her winnings and gives a share to the innkeeper as well.
By now, it's getting rather late and - unless someone has something they
need / want to do before morning, the next post will cover departing
town (At LAST!)

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

The prizes have been given out and you've got a little extra coin in
your purse. Still excited from his fights, Pirrik pipes up "Now let's
have an archery contest!" Despite some half-hearted cheers, it seems
that more people are interested in either drinking or bed at this point.
Destiny lays a hand on Pirrik's shoulder and says, "Perhaps next time,
bright-eyes." With a final song - Necromancer's Lament (subtitle: I
said I'd love you UNTIL the day I died) - she bids you all goodnight and
makes her way to her room. Nagel also has taken a room in the inn, but
Ahmed and Twilana prefer to bed down with the caravan
Padraic is happy that he only lost to the two finalists. He thanks, and
congratulates the fighters, and offers healing to any of them who may
need it (until he is no longer able to heal).
At last, you all settle down to sleep.

For Tigerseye, it seems that he's just laid his head down when he is
awakened by Twilana. A steaming mug of Khaf is thrust into his hand and
he is taken outside where the draft horses must be hitched and the war
horses readied for their journey as well. As the sun begins to peak over
the horizon, the rest of you are roused by Ahmed. "Up, my little lambs,
up you are to be getting! Daylight is already burning, miles are ahead
before our heads may again rest. Gather your gear and report to the lead
wagon for your watch schedule. If you are wishing breakfast, you had
best pack quickly!"

As the caravan began its final preparations Morlan began his as well.
Over the past several days he's been seen writing a long letter,
evidently intended for a family member and even in this backwater he was
able to find someone to send it on its way. Afterwards his spirits were
noticeably lifted. He also spent significant time fussing over his
backpack attempting to ensure various vials and packages would be
optimally protected from falls and jars. Then he took even more care
with the two darts he showed the company the previous night. He
strapped and restrapped them to his belt attempting to keep the pointy
ends directed away from either himself or the direction he supposed the
draft animals would be in while he was seated. In the end he came to a
compromise and then sought out Ahmed to determine the watch schedule.
After determining he was not on watch headed for Denko's wagon to begin
the journey.

When you finally make your way to the wagon, you find the watch schedule
has been laid out. As "primary spell-casters" Morlan and Elrohir are
exempt from what is called the "circle watch." This watch walks at the 4
compass points around the caravan (unless the path is too narrow in
which case East moves to South and West moves to North). While they are
exempt from this watch, they are expected to make their way to any
trouble location at the first sign of danger.
Gord, Silent, Padraic, Tigerseye and Pirrik (along with three permanent
members of the caravan - 0 level fighters: Tomas, Nars and Lars) will
walk the Circle Watch. The schedule for that is 5 hours on, 5 hours off,
4 people on watch at any time. (Gord, Padriac and Pirrik + Tomas for 1st
watch. Silent and Tigerseye with Nars and Lars for 2nd watch.)
While setting up camp, all newly hired guards are expected to stand
watch (except for Tigerseye, he'll be tending horses.) Night watches are
broken down into 3 shifts: Morlan, Gord and Tomas, 1st watch. Elrohir,
Silent, Padriac and Nars 2nd watch. Tigerseye, Pirrik and Lars for 3rd
watch.
The first few days of your trip are fairly easy. Being in good shape,
the walking isn't hard on you, the wagons don't move faster than a brisk
walk anyway. You find that Denko is an excellent camp cook, the food is
filling and good.
After the first night, Ahmed chastises those of you who have blades,
bows, and armor,
"Not a single one of you are bringing whetstones for your blades, extra
strings for your bows, oil for your armor! Ahmed is most upset. Most
upset with you all. You are lucky Ahmed thinks of these things. One hour
each night you must spend taking care of the equipment. It is not just
your lives that are depending on the sharpness of your blades. It is
also Ahmed! Each of you report to supply tent and take whetstone. If you
have bow, take extra string, if you have armor, take oil. If you are not
knowing how to care for your equipment, ask Ahmed. Mor-lan can also show
you how to care for leather."

For these first few days, you're mostly in farm land. You camp on farms
and Nagel barters for fresh produce and such. Soon, however, the
farmlands give way to more wild lands.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

While the group was still at the inn, Tigerseye approaches Destiny and
asks if she has some of those practice weapons that she would be willing
to sell, if she does not, he then goes on to ask if she knows where he
could possibly get hold of a pair of them along the way to the city.

"You can have these," Destiny replies, handing him the swords used in
the contest. "Wooden swords are easy enough to craft. You may want to
invest some time in fashioning a set of bamboo practice weapons, if you
come across some bamboo. Take several bamboo rods, lash them together
and affix them to a handle. The resultant weapons will do less damage
than a plain wooden sword should you 'slip' in a duel and they produce a
nice sound when you hit your foe."
Tigerseye thanks her for her help with them, and politely incline his
head, saying, "May our paths cross again in the future."

"You can never tell," Destiny replies. "Though it seems doubtful, as our
directions from here are different. Still, stranger things have
happened."

Pleased with both how well he did in the bout, and the obvious skills of
his new companions, he settles down to sleep.
At Tigerseye's awakening by Twilana he thanks her sleepily for the Khaf,
half in common, and half in his own soft native tongue. Grabbing up all
of his gear, he follows her out to the caravan to tend the horses.
While they are journeying through relatively "safe" lands, Tigerseye
will try and talk with the others, both the guards like himself and the
regular caravaneers, when he is off guard duty and not tending the
horses. He would be most interested in talking about the other's
homelands, and interesting places or people they had seen.
Tomas, Nars and Lars are fairly new to Nagel's service, having joined up
at the previous stop the caravan made. They have very little experience
as fighters but are anxious to learn the trade.
Also, if the others are interested, he would not mind taking part in
some practice sparring along the way as well, he would especially offer
this to Silent since he had already asked about this back at the inn.
Silent will likely take him up on his offer, as will Ahmed. As a matter
of fact, Ahmed decides to run these sessions as training each night. He
insists that Tomas, Lars and Nars attends and strongly suggests that all
others who use a blade attend as well. He'll also set up targets for
archery practice.

When Ahmed chastises the group for not taking care of their equipment,
Tigerseye apologizes to the master and arms, and says that he will not
get so distracted again. After fetching a whetstone, bowstring and oil,
Tigerseye does approach Morlan on how to care for his leather armor.
While he does know weapon care for bows and especially blades, he had
only been trained in how fight in armor, not in the specifics of its
care.

Morlan pipes up with some questions and comments early in the trek:
"Ahmed, will there be a signal to wake the rest of the caravan if we're
attacked a night?"

"Ahmed thinks that the signal will be much yelling," the large warrior
says. "If my little lambs listen for Ahmed's voice, they will know where
to go. Also, whoever is closest to the campfires is to toss large bundle
of kindling on fire to provide light for those who cannot see in dark."

"And during the day will we use the same signal?" Morlan asks.
"Yes," Ahmed responds. "Ahmed has loud voice, he will direct you where
you should go. If Ahmed is not seeing danger, let he who sees it first,
make others aware. Always act to protect the horses first, then the
wagons. Do not give chase unless Ahmed or Nagel say it is allowed."
"Will we keep a watch fire?" Morlan asks. "I ask because I notice that
most of the guards you hired see by heat at night and that may give us
an advantage."
"More creatures will be scared off by fire," Ahmed says. "Some guards
not able to see in dark. Keep fire to your back when on watch, not spoil
night-vision."
Finally, Morlan asks, "Ahmed, are both magic users always "on" during
the day?"
"Everyone is on call at all times," Ahmed responds. "Even when watch is
over at night. During the day, when magic users ride in wagon, there is
some slack time. You can study spell books, meditate, or whatever you
need to do, just be ready to respond if you hear shouts of danger. Same
goes for fighters when not on watch during day or night. You can care
for weapons and armor, or sit in wagon and nap so long as you are ready
if there is attack."

"Gord," Morlan continues. "You fought well the night before we left, I'm
glad to be on watch with you. You are certainly the better fighter so
I'll take my lead from you when it comes to that. But I'm thinking that
if we're fighting a group I'll start by putting as many to sleep as
possible with this flask, I have to warn you that it'll cover quite a
bit of area, so you should stay clear. I won't use it if you're already
too close. Next I'll go after the biggest one's with my darts, I should
be able to easily avoid you with those. If at all possible I'm going to
try and avoid closing with any attackers and I'll use my sling once I'm
out of my magical equipment. I'll let you and Tomas take care of that.
I do have to warn you though not to get too close to me, if it does come
to that, I'm hoping that before we have to fight I'll have a pair of
gloves, that will give anyone who gets to close a nasty burn or shock,
and I hate it if it was you. I'm that since we're the better fighters
we should have Tomas sound the alarm while we're taking care of the
initial rush with bow, sling and magic."

"Elrohir," Morlan says. "Fine try in the ring the night before we left.
Apparently while we won't be wearing out our boots we will be on watch
all day. Also It's likely we'll be getting to the fight a little late
since those on circle watch will, hopefully, be getting in the first
blows. I'll try and get my darts in first unless I can see a group off
on their own in which case I'll try and put them to sleep with one of my
flasks. If your phantom force could be used to break off a group from
those we were fighting that would give me a chance as well."

(To Tigerseye sometime in the first couple days travel) "You seemed
curious about my backpack and darts. I can tell you the backpack is
entirely non-magical, but it is very valuable to me being a going away
gift from my uncle specially constructed to let me carry on my studies.
The darts are entirely of course magical as I explained that night.
They take me only a few minutes to enchant and hold their magic quite a
while, but I can only do a couple a day and I can not trust their magic
once they leave me. Is there more you would like to know?"

As the Caravan moves through the quite country side Morlan spends his
day light hours examining the country and either chatting with Dinko
about Food, Elrohir about Illusionist magic especially about how it's
practiced among the Gnomes, Gord on the plans for the night, or anyone
who'd is willing on the merits of Gnomish Beer.
He also spends much time writing. When not otherwise engaged, he also
attempts to engage Nagel in conversation regarding the route and,
unsuccessfully, the Oath Stone.
After his evening watch he spends at least a hour going through his
books, mumbling waving his hand and often creating small puffs of flame
as he practices his studies. Do to the late nights, he's often see
nodding off when he's "off" watch during the day.

Silent takes guarding very seriously. He keeps an overall lookout and
usually moves around quite a bit in order to make a more difficult
target. He also looks ahead and behind. He's not afraid to use the
whistle to warn people of possible danger and often checks his six.
Otherwise, he helps around the caravan when he isn't sleeping and is
friendly to everyone. He listens anytime Padraic talks about Heimdahl.

Pirrik will keep his bow strung, his eyes peeled, and his ears perked.
Assuming that his imposing presence will be redundant next to some of
his new friends, he'll glide surreptitiously into hiding if danger rears
its head - or heads. Not out of cowardice, but to hide the party's true
numbers and to get ready to flank if necessary. He'll inform the party
of his plan in case they have a better idea.

Farmlands have given way to wild country. Ahmed tightens up caravan
security, keeping the wagons closer and sending Gord out further in his
watch.
Gord comes back at a dead run during one of his circles, telling of
horizontal lighting strikes on the trees as well as burn marks from
fire. When he checked further, he found two humanoid bodies at the
bottom of a small valley between hills. They look to have been there
since before the snows.

Ahmed and Nagel consult for a time and then direct Gord to take Padriac
and Pirrik and Tomas as well as Morlan to investigate. A halt is called
to the caravan and the remaining guards are set on high alert while the
investigation is taking place.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

When Gord returns with the news, Tigerseye goes over to the horses,
ready to calm and protect them if something should take this opportunity
to attack. He even goes as far as to take out his bow, with an arrow
notched, though he keeps it pointed towards the ground for now.

Roughly half the guards have left the caravan for a jaunt into the
woods. They've been gone for about half and hour when someone spots a
wolf, walking very slowly towards where you're camped. It's obviously
making no attempt at stealth, nor does it seem to be stalking anything.
Lars notches an arrow and appears to be ready to let fly when Ahmed
says, "Where you see one wolf, a dozen more are hidden. It is the shank
of the day. They could wait until nightfall and attack. Ahmed thinks
this one wants to parley.
Nagel approaches Twilana and speaks with her in a soft voice. You hear
her reply, "No. I have told you. I no longer walk that path." What Nagel
says in turn is not loud enough for you to hear. "Gaea curse you,"
Twilana cries. "You do not know what you ask." Nagel gestures at the
horse and again, his words are too soft to carry. Twilana's reply is
soft, but still audible. "Very well, master. But this is the last
journey I shall make with you."
She approaches the wolf, and the two exchange snarls, growls and barks.
After a moment of this, Twilana says, "Smoke-tail here says that hunting
in this region has been much worse than usual lately. His pack believes
it is the fault of other 'two-legs' and that we must pay a toll if we
wish to travel unmolested through their land. Smoke-tail says that his
pack could slay us all, but they would suffer losses in the process. If
we hobble one of the draft horses and leave it here, he swears his pack
will let us be and that they will howl our might to any other packs that
could hear."

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Tigerseye eases the tension off of his bow as Twilana speaks with the
wolf, slowly and carefully placing the arrow back in his quiver. While
he is obviously fascinated by the conversation, he does not appear
bothered at all by the sight of someone having a conversation with a
wolf. Upon hearing the translation of the conversation, Tigerseye walks
slowly forward, just close enough so that he does not need to shout to
be heard, and asks if he may speak with and ask questions of "Sir
Smoke-tail."

Twilana answer tersely, "Ask, but make your questions simple. It will
aid in the translation."

First inclining his head respectfully, Tigerseye asks, "Sir Smoke-tail,
you mentioned other "two-legs" in this region, are they still here and
are they a group like ours. Or perhaps, do they prey upon ones like
us?"

Reply: Other two-legs fought each other. Made fire and death from the
sky. Rabbit, deer, other animals fled this area

Tigerseye ponders this for a moment and then replies, "I see, that would
explain a few things... may I ask how many passings of the moon have
occurred since this battle?"

Twilana tells you that wolves don't consider time the way that we do.
She tries to get the idea across but all she can come up with in return
is that the snow still lay on the ground.

Tigerseye nods, "Quite understandable, it does sound like it has not
been too long though, could you ask him if they are still in the area?"
He also briefly turns to the caravan master, "Does the caravan have any
meat foodstuffs that we could offer instead of a draft horse? We may
end up having to hunt more for our supper later on, but it may be a
better option for us than the loss of a horse."

Smoke-taill says, "They made much noise, many lights in the sky and fire
touching the ground. Then all was still. Now the region smells of death
but not decay. Decay is part of life, it brings the scavengers. With
death but no decay, the small and timid stay away. No food for
Smoke-tail and pack. Smoke-tail thinks two-legs killed each other.

Nagel says, "If we're looking at equal amounts of meat, we could leave
three hogs behind. That will put us on short rations. If the wolves
haven't been lucky hunting this area, we might not have any better luck,

"Hmm, death but no decay," Tigerseye says. "That sounds like it could be
magic of the darker sort, not pleasant at all. At least it sounds like
that there either are no survivors capable of such things to attack us
anymore. Does Smoke-tail have a way to tell us for how big of an area
the prey animals are spooked?" Speaking to Nagel directly again, "That
would give us an idea of how long we would have to go on short rations
if we go that route, I assume it would be hard on us to give up a draft
animal."

Twilana says that you would need to travel hard for 2 days to be out of
the range of the average wolf pack. Nagel says that the loss of ONE
draft horse wouldn't be terrible, but there would be no spare should an
animal become lame. And, he says, "I think this beast knows exactly what
we can afford to lose. I'm not totally convinced he leads a pack and not
just himself."

Tigerseye muses, "Hmm, a difficult proposition on all sides. Perhaps
Sir Smoke-tail would be willing to introduce us to his compatriots as a
gesture of good faith?"

"A risky question to ask," Twilana says. Wolves are very prideful. If he
thinks you are calling him a liar and he DOES have a pack, it may entice
him to attack. On the other hand, if he's bluffing, he'll laugh it off
and praise our wit."

"Could we ask if any of his pack are injured? We could offer healing as
part of our payment, and thus be able to see if he is telling us the
truth as well."

The last communication is relayed and Smoke-tail sits back on his
haunches and looks at Tigerseye for a long moment. Then Twilana
translates: "Well played. Perhaps the size of my pack is over-stated.
Still, in exchange for one of those hogs, I'll promise you no wolf
attacks for this side of the pass. The other wolves far and near will
hear my cry as to what mighty hunters you are and leave you alone." At
your current rate of travel, that's about a week.

Tigerseye turns to Nagel, "Would you consider this a fair offer, Master
Nagel? I would think, that if he would be willing to tell us some
details of this area, and perhaps warn us if he sees something new
approaching us while we are in his range, in addition to what he has
agreed already to, it could be quite a good deal for all of us."

"Aye, that works for me. When we leave this place, we'll stake a hog out
for him to kill and eat. Go and tell Dinko to see to it while I confer
with this extortionist wolf via Twilana."

Tigerseye courteously nods, "Of course sir." And begins to make his way
to Dinko.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Between Tigerseye's questions, Twilana's translations and Smoke-tail's
hunger, you have managed to strike a deal. In exchange for one of the
live hogs, Smoke-tail has promised that no wolves will attack you on
this side of the pass. He can't say anything about the wolves on the
other side. He's also promised to warn you if he detects anything
dangerous between here and the top of the pass.

Silent watches the exchange with interest, yet he remains vigilant and
constantly on the move on his side of the caravan (presumably on the
opposite side from the wolf). At the sign of any other wolf (or
creature) he'll signal the others and point them out.

If asked his advice, he'll sign that a toll is not out of normal
operation in civilized areas, and to ensure safe passage, a reasonable
toll is OK. He visibly admires the wolf and it's behavior as (mostly)
honorable and wonders/muses about Twilana's ability to speak wolf. At
the first opportunity he'll sign to Morlan asking if he knows how
someone can speak to wolves and what sort of magic that is.

Morlan and the others still aren't back from their investigation. That's
not unusual yet. The exchange with Smoke-tail didn't take very long.

Afterwards, Twilana glares hotly at Nagel before storming off to be with
the horses.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Gord, Padriac, Pirrik, Tomas and Morlan return from their investigation.
Morlan is looking more than a little fatigued, while Pirrik is
practically bouncing as he walks. Morlan explains,
"We marched for a little ways and came to a small valley between two
hills. At either end of the valley was a dead human. The one closest to
us looks like he died of old age or maybe a heart attack. He had blood
on his right hand and sleeve but no visible wound. The one at the far
end of the valley had stab wounds and a knife in his back. In the center
of the valley was something glinting in the sun. When I went forward to
investigate the first corpse, the gerfriggen lotstenabbussen little
piece of Glint levitated up in the air, spun around a few times and then
fell back to the dirt. And all my magic was gone! All my stored spells
in my magic darts, my gloves, my boots, all gone AND my ability to cast
spells for the day gone too! It felt like I'd cast every spell I knew
how to cast and was drained for the day. I retreated and told everyone
to be damn careful. Padriac heeded my warning and didn't venture in.
Pirrik, not being of a magical bent, examined the corpse and the
do-hickey in detail. He took some stuff off the corpses and looked at
the do-hickey. It's about the size of a cantaloupe, has runes on it and
spun in a clock-wise direction. It looks somewhat like a child's toy, a
top. Pirrik thinks he translated two of the runes to read 'MAGIC' and
"DEPART.' If I missed anything, maybe one of the others can fill you in.
Me, I need a nap."
Thus said, Morlan climbs into the back of a wagon and starts snoring.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Lars and Nars take turns telling those of you who went to investigate
the battle site.
"On high alert, we was," Lars begins. "Watching for enemy presence when
I spotted a great big wolf and sounded the alarm."
"Yer daft!" Exclaimed Nars. "'Twas me who spotted it! I was all set to
take it on with naught but me dagger when Ahmed said to parlay with it."
"Set to take it on?" Lars cries. "You was set to wetting yerself! If
Ahmed hadn't called ME off, I'd be wearing a wolf-skin coat right now."
"Aye," replied Nars. "You've got that partially right. I guess you could
say you would be wearing him seeing as how the wolf would have ate ya."

Eventually, the boasting and bickering of the two brothers gives way to
a mostly factual telling of what happened:

A large wolf did approach the camp and seemed to be in no mood to
attack. Nagel ordered Twilana to speak with the beast. She did so, under
great protest claiming that she had "given up that path." The wolf
claimed to represent a large pack of wolves who demanded tribute in the
form of one of the horses before allowing the caravan to pass
unmolested. The wolf claimed that due to a "recent" wizard war, the
local game had been scared off and his pack was starving. Nagel admitted
that the caravan could make due with one less draft horse, but it would
be risky. The wolf countered with an offer to just take the hogs that
had been brought along instead. As this would put the caravan on short
rations, Nagel wanted other options. Tigerseye (with Twilana
translating) called the wolf's bluff and it was found that the wolf was
without a pack. However, the wolf, named Smoke-tail, bartered for one
hog in exchange for a promise of no attacks by any wolf and early
warning of any dangerous creatures that approached the camp from here to
the top of the pass. Those terms were deemed reasonable and the wolf
retreated to the woods.
Meanwhile, Twilana still seemed most angry with Nagel and spent some
time in quiet conversation with Tigerseye.

Nagel has Tomas tie a rope to the neck of one hog and attach that rope
to a stake pounded n the ground before the caravan moves onward. Shortly
after you round the bend, you hear frightened squealing behind you that
is quickly cut off.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

When last we left our band of adventurers, some of you had investigated
the outcome of what appeared to be a wizard duel. Upon investigating
said site, Morlan had his spell potential for the day and his charged
magic items he'd created drained by a strange device. While Pirrik
wanted to bring said device back with him, a healthy respect for the
potential damage it could cause outweighed his natural curiosity in the
matter. He instead satisfied himself with removing what items of value
the corpses had (After all, THEY wouldn't need them anymore) and sharing
his findings with the party. Said findings included 105 gold worth of
misc coins and a couple of non-magical yet obviously valuable rings.
Meanwhile, the remaining party members encountered a wolf who wasn't
above a small amount of extortion in exchange for a promise of immunity
from lupine attacks for a few days. Lars and Nars greatly played up
their part in the encounter with the wolf, despite it being mainly
Twilana talking with the beast.

Silent listens attentively at the news from the exploration group. As
the two brothers describe what happen at the caravan, Silent with
pantomime and sign all the action - in a deadpan manner. He'll listen to
any stories being told about these past few hours. In an effort to
create an esprit d'corps, he will challenge the other guards during
off-hours to training/sparring, with an effort towards improving
everyone in fighting skills. In fact, if given the opportunity, he will
set up regular training sessions as well as "group" mock battles of 2 to
4 or more people with the goal in mind of creating a coordinated
response to attack. The worst injury that is expected is a few bruises,
hopefully everyone will be careful enough not to hurt anyone. He'll also
be deadly serious in this regard and will not screw off or go dramatic
like the sparring in the bar. Lars, Nars and Tomas readily agree to the
practice sessions. At first, they were wary of Silent - if not somewhat
afraid. Soon, however, they spend more of their off time with him both
in practice and general camaraderie.

The adventures of the day keep Silent more watchful and serious. He'll
be more reserved and probably smile less (as he is concerned about the
coming days). At the first opportunity, he will sign with Morlan to find
out what happened to his powers and ask him about talking to wolves.
Morlan tells him that there are spells that can allow a mage or a priest
to talk with animals and that some orders of nature priests have that
ability naturally.
He'll also sign to Twilana about talking to wolves and will stop
apologetically if he gives offense. Twilana has become quite reserved,
she is not hostile with Silent, just seems unwilling to talk about the
incident further.
Silent isn't the only one for whom the recent events have caused a
change. Tigerseye also spends the next few days on high alert. When on
guard duty, he strides through the camp, peering at everything, seeming
more high-strung than usual.
Morlan's usual good mood is slow in returning as well. He spends his off
hours with his portable lab, enchanting anew his potions and items which
were drained by the device. It isn't until he has several of his
favorites again ready that he relaxes slightly.

You've camped for the night near the top of the pass. You know that
tomorrow, you'll start your way down the other side and the wolf,
Smoke-tail, will no longer be shadowing you.
It's late in the first watch of the night. Gord, Morlan and Tomas are on
watch.

You hear Tomas scream in terror. A map of the camp is attached (http://1001nightsand1night.110mb.com/PDF/Camp.pdf). The red blob is the campfire.

Those people on watch can act now. The rest of you will have 1 to 3
rounds before you can act, depending on what sort of preparations you'll
want to make before charging in.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

In response to Pirrik showing off his "findings," Tigerseye suggests
that the group of hired guards, <<i.e. the PC party,>> keep at least
part of the wealth and other such items in a group pool for major
purchases, at least until they reach their destination. He also checks
the rings and gold over to see if he recognizes any markings or styles
on them.

Tigerseye agrees with Silent's request to step up the group's training
regimen, offering up both the use of his practice swords, and suggesting
that either sheathed weapons or braches could fill in for the rest of
the "weapons" for the group bouts. He also asks Silent if he thinks
that expanding the training to mix in other weapons and tactics might be
an idea, perhaps they could use a few arrow shafts with cloth bundles
filled with sand or dirt instead of arrowheads to add in ranged weapons.
They could also consider bringing the spellcasters abilities into the
training with similar kinds of substitutions to get the group used to
their effect upon combat.

As you've been practicing for a few days now, you're well on your way to
learning how to attack and defend as a team. Ahmad is proud of you all
for the progress you've made.

Now, on to the attack!

Just to confuse things even more...
You hear Tigerseye shout out "There's one I can see coming in from the
West!" (Tomas screamed from the East side of camp)

Round 1:

Gord has his sword and shield out and has charged to the east where the
scream came from. With the fire at his back, he sees a large creature
that looks like a demented giant snow owl mated with a bear. His ranger
training identifies it as an Owlbear. Tomas is in it's grasp. Gord will
reach the creature next round.

Meanwhile, Tigerseye, who had been sleeping by the fire, jumps up and
strings his bow. He scans the campsite has he does so and finds another
of the creatures has approached from the west. His shout notifies all as
to that fact.

Morlan, who had been running to the East, stops and turns about,
spotting the creature. Looking at its size and the distance involved, he
decides against using one of his sleep gas bombs and instead casts a
dart in its general direction. Despite the fact that the throw doesn't
get the dart anywhere close to the beast, the dart still manages to
correct the trajectory and land in the creature's side, causing it to
roar in pain.

Other actions this round: Lars and Nars have awakened from their place
by the fire and are throwing dry wood on it to increase the visible
light. Padraic, who was jolted awake by Tomas's scream, quickly slips on
his boots, grabs his sword and dons his rams head necklace. He begins to
run towards the sound of the scream, trusting his elven vision to guide
him.

Silent slips out of the wagon where he had been sleeping with his sword
in one hand and axe in the other. He is unarmored except for his helm.
Since the creature on the West side of the camp is closer to him than
the other, he heads that way.

Elrohir Elensar stumbles as he's attempting to cast a spell, fumbling
his roll (sometimes you just roll a '1'.) Fortunately, all that happens
is he loses the spell point. Nobody sees Pirrik in all this. Ahmed has
emerged from his wagon with a massive crossbow. He is franticly turning
the crank on it to get it cocked, all the while berating his slowness.
"Ahmed must hurry, his brave little lambs are already fighting!"

The Owlbear to the East, squeezes Tomas in its grasp. Tomas has stopped
screaming.

To the West, the beast there focuses its beady eyes on Morlan and
charges at him, eliciting a yelp from the gnome.

Round 2:

Tigereye has his bow strung and fires off two arrows at the creature
that's now charging Morlan. One arrow hits and bites deeply.

Silent tosses his axe at the same monster, also hitting. He continues to
run at the beast.

Gord has closed with his monster and attacks its flank. Despite the fact
that the monster is occupied with crushing the life out of Tomas, he
still misses.

From out of the darkness comes an arrow. You catch a glimpse of Pirrik
as he looses the shot which strikes the Owlbear in the neck, a critical
hit! It drops Tomas who falls to the ground in a heap. It slaps at the
barb sticking from its throat, trying to dislodge it.

Padraic rushes in with his hands outstretched to grasp Tomas, intent on
bringing forth the healing power of his god. One look at the broken
body, however, tells him that he is too late.

Elrohir concentrates harder and smiles as a wall of thorns seems to rise
out of the ground between the Owlbear and Morlan. The creature barely
stops in time to avoid running into it, loosing it's action for the
round.

Ahmed, moving towards the action, stops as he hears a sound from the
Southeast. It's another of the monsters. He whirls to face this third
creature's charge, firing his crossbow at it. He hits, yet does little
damage despite the force of the bow. From the adjacent wagon, Twilana
emerges with a dagger in her hand. Deciding that she appears tastier
than Ahmed, the monster switches targets.

Round 3:

Gord finishes off the owlbear with a well-placed stab.

Wrenching his sword free, he scans the surrounding area for other
attackers before heading south towards the newly arrived monster.
Morlan has pulled on a pair of gloves and shoves his hand palms out at
the owlbear near him. A jet of flame erupts from his hands and strikes
the already wounded beast yet doesn't manage to set it's hair or
feathers on fire.

Tigerseye has closed with the same monster, dropping his bow and drawing
his sword in a smooth motion. Perhaps too smooth a motion. A loose rock
on the ground causes him to stumble and fall almost at the creatures
feet. Silent fares little better with his sword attack, failing to hit
the monster.

To the south, Ahmed is knocked aside by the creature on it's charge
towards Twilana. However, with a fierce growl, a wolf with a tail the
color of smoke launches itself at the owlbear's throat. The attack hits,
but the creature's claws savage the wolf's belly in return.

Back up north, Tigerseye is clawed for 5 points by the monster attacking
him. Luckily, it misses it's second claw, therefore Tigerseye is not
grabbed.

Two arrows from Pirrik miss the mark this time.

Lars and Nars arrive at the southern monster and try to find an opening
in which to strike that won't hit the wolf.

Round 4:

Gord is in motion towards the monster facing Tigerseye and
Silent. Despite being prone, Tigerseye does get his sword to bite deeply
into the beast's hide. At the same time, Silent also hits, his blow
finishing off the wounded monster.

To the south, Ahmed has dropped the crossbow and has his massive
scimitar out. Between him, Lars, Nars and the damage the wolves jaws
did, that creature also falls.

Taking stock:

Tomas is dead, beyond Padraic's ability to help. Tigerseye
is wounded but still alive. 3 owlbears are dead and the wolf known as
Smoke-tail is badly wounded, perhaps dieing. He lies panting on the
ground, his head cradled by Twilana.

Nagel, who is seen pulling a dagger from the southern monster (even
though nobody saw him throw it) examines each of you for injuries. When
he finds that Tigerseye is hurt, he cleans and bandages the wounds which
restores 2 points.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

In the moments after a battle, you find the silence to be oppressive. It
is only broken by the sound of your ragged breathing and the involuntary
whimpers of a wounded and dying wolf.

Ahmed and Nagel see to the two-legged members of the party, checking you
out for wounds, applying bandages where needed. Nagel tells Gord and
Pirrik to backtrack the creatures BRIEFLY, no more than 200 yards from
camp and check to see if any others are in the area. Ahmed, torch in
hand, takes the third trail.

As soon as the bandage is tied off, Tigerseye and Padraic go to where
Twilana is cradling the wolves' head in her lap. It's belly has been
ripped open and it doesn't have much longer. Padraic looks at the wolf
and says "I am sorry. There's nothing I can do. The curative prayers my
god gives me will not work on this noble beast.

Silent, when he hears this, drops his sword and rushes forward. Catching
Twilana's eye, he signs rapidly that he desires to help.

"I can't help him," she says to Silent. "Once, I could have, but I have
foresworn the path of druid priestess. By even speaking with him
earlier, I wrote my own death sentence. The story is too long to tell
now. But perhaps you can help him."

She stares into the half-orc's eyes for a moment.

"There is an air of...holiness about you," she says. "If I am any judge
of these things, you are not the simple fighter you pretend to be. Will
you prove me right and save this brave creature?" You're not sure, but
you think she might have added "and me as well."

Silent nods without hesitation or question. He places his hands on
Smoke-tail, near the terrible wounds.

Twilana prays, "Gaea, Earth-Mother. Spirit of all that is good in the
Land. Accept this servant into your care and heal this noble creature of
yours."

Things become...blurry for a moment. When your vision clears, Smoke-tail is standing, but much larger than before. As a matter of fact, those of you who've been around orcs before, now know that Smoke-tail isn't a wolf any longer, he's a Warg. (AKA Dire Wolf or Worg).

He looks easily large enough for Silent to ride. Silent is standing next
to him, a HUGE grin on his face as one hand rests on Smoke-tail's
shoulder.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

To recap: Caravan master Nagel has sent various individuals with some
amount of tracking skill out to at least see where the owlbears came
from. Also, Silent after some interaction with Twilana seems to have
affected some sort of change in the wolf Smoke-tail. This is generally
considered to be a positive thing by those present, as said wolf was
clearly dieing before his change.

Gord returns from his scouting and says, "I suggest that tomorrow, we
track the bears to find their cave. These bears appear smarter than the
average bear. The bears might have killed others with treasure. This
will let the wounded people rest for one day also." Nagel agrees to
this, with the provision that people don't travel too far from the
caravan. He will plan on getting a late start tomorrow, to give time for
a funeral service for Tomas.

Tigerseye stills upon hearing first Padraic and then Twilana say that
they cannot help Smoketail. Not only had the wolf been enjoyable to
banter and test wits with days before, albeit through a translator, but
then he had gone well beyond his bargain and obligations, aiding them
against their enemies. Such things are rare in this world, and death an
unfair reward for loyalty.

Standing aside when Silent rushes forward, he watches what unfolds with
utter fascination. When Silent first lays his hands upon the wolf, and
then the not only transformed, but healed Smoke-tail rises, Tigerseye
just stares for a few moments, head tilted to one side with an odd,
unreadable expression on his face. Those somewhat close to him can hear
him softly say one word to himself in another language with a
questioning lilt in his voice.

With a quick shake of his head Tigerseye breaks his revere, smiles
softly, and give a slight bow to Silent and Smoke-tail. "Good it is, to
see you well and whole, Sir Smoke-tail, my thanks for your coming to our
aid." Turning to Silent and inclining his head once again, "You are
indeed a man of many talents my friend."

Silent's happiness over Smoke-tail's revival is brief as he turns to
look towards where Tomas has fallen. A fellow warrior has gone to meet
his ancestors and must be honored.

Silent turns to Smoke-tail and gently puts his hand upon the Wolf's
head, in a gesture that looks like a benediction. He then quickly
recovers his sword and approaches the Owlbear that killed Tomas.

With gestures, he explains that for Tomas to enter the halls of his
ancestors, he must go with tokens of his bravery. Silent calmly removes
the heart of the Owlbear (he gestures "for courage"), as well as tufts
of it's hair ("for strength"), one of it's claws ("for fighting
prowess") and a few silver coins ("for passage through the gates").
Wrapping them carefully into a bundle with a strip of cloth, he anoints
Tomas's forehead with Owlbear blood and places the fetish onto Tomas's
chest, crossing his arms to hold it in place. He then gestures that
Tomas is ready for his journey.

Silent will help bury Tomas or help prepare a funeral pyre for him.
After the funeral ritual, Silent will help butcher and eat the Owlbear
(if it is edible) and also feed Smoke-tail if he's hungry.
Dinko, the dwarven cook, pronounces the owlbear edible, if it's stewed
long enough. Though he understands if none wish to eat it.

So, who volunteers to go with Gord to track the owlbears to their lair?

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Silent has gone off a short distance with the wolf. When he returns, he
points to the wolf's tail, then to some smoke from the fire and shakes
his head "NO." Then he points to the fire, and then the wolf's tail and
nods his head "Yes." You think he's renamed the wolf Flametail to honor
its more youthful appearance. The wolf seems amused by this
Tigerseye smiles and says to Silent, "You are indeed a man of many
talents my friend."

Silent simply shrugs at Tigerseye's comment, as if to say "I am what I
am. No one here is what they appear to be."

Dinko, the dwarven cook, pronounces the owlbear edible, if it's stewed
long enough. Though he understands if none wish to eat it.

Owlbear stew sounds pretty good to Silent. Flametail prefers his raw,
however.

When the call for volunteers to go with Gord to track the owlbears to
their lair goes out, Silent will arm and armor up and join the party.
"I'll go," says an oddly subdued Pirrik.
After watching Silent creating the fetish with the same rapt attention
as before, he offers his own assistance with the funeral of Tomas. He
does suggest that they either build a cairn with stones nearby or
consider a funeral pyre, otherwise the grave will probably be desecrated
by animals. He ponders for a moment before saying, with his accent
coming through a little more strongly than normal, "This one has always
preferred the thought of a pyre, I have seen... dark forces use the
bones of the fallen for their own purposes a little too often to be
comfortable with sleeping in the earth. Safer by far, to drift through
the world as ash on the winds, though not even that is enough at times."
At the suggestion of owlbear stew, Tigerseye grins, flashing his teeth.
"Eat the ones who would have devoured us, fitting, very fitting. A fine
tribute to our survival and quite practical with foes such as these."
When the call goes out for those who would be interested in
investigating the lair of these beasts, Tigerseye offers to go if
needed.

Nagel says that he hadn't known Tomas all that long and that he isn't
sure as to his religious preferences, but he seemed to respect Padriac
well enough. Nagel asks Padraic to set up a pyre.

In the final tally: Gord, Tigerseye, Silent and Pirrik decide to track
the owlbears to their lair.

They're easy to track. Easy, at least for Gord. The rest of you realize
you would have lost the trail a couple of times. But Gord points out
where a crushed twig indicates passage of some huge creature or some
other spoor. Finally, you come to a cave enterance. Pirrik hears noise
from within.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Before setting out for the owlbear lair, Tigerseye will first help
Twilana check on the horses, and while he already had his armor on, he
will check over the armor and try to quickly patch up the rents left by
the owlbear, as well as finally putting on his boots. He will be
traveling with his sword properly sheathed instead of being tucked into
his belt, and for now he will have his bow out and ready, with a quiver
of arrows on his back.

Upon arriving at the cave, Gord calls the party to a halt, whispering
"We need a plan to surprise them. There is probably more than one of
them in there."

The terrain is rocky. You are above the tree line with only small scrub
brush around. There are a number of large rocks in the area. Not much in
the way of dry wood / shrubs for a fire, however.
You are on what appears to be a game trail. The cave opening is a large
hole in the ground - roughly 15 feet across. You think the cave entrance
slopes down instead of going straight down. There is a good deal of
disturbance to the area around the entrance; as if there has been a lot
of material dragged into the cave. Oh, it smells pretty bad here. The
smell of rotten meat and of feces combines to a lovely perfume.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Present: Pirrik, Tigerseye, Gord, Silent and Flametail

As everyone is attempting to get into position, Tigerseye steps on a
seemingly solid patch of ground only to have it give way beneath him. A
rather large section of dirt and rock slides down into the now wider
entrance to the lair - along with Tigerseye.

As the slope isn't great and the distance not terribly far, he is unhurt
by his fall. Looking around, he finds that the movements detected
earlier were caused by a hatchling owlbear. There are also three eggs
which have not yet hatched. The hatchling seems to have come out of its
shell within the last day at the most. It does not appear to be a
threat.

The floor of the lair is covered with shed fur and feathers and a fair
bit of feces. There are also bones of animals and the remains of two
humanoids.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

As Tigerseye skids downward into the lair, he tries to remain as quiet
as possible. At the end of his decent and upon seeing a current lack of
visible threats, he darkly mutters one guttural word in another
language. After first checking to see if he still has his bow and
quiver, along with his sheathed sword, he carefully gets up, slowly,
watching the newly hatched owlbear. He then scans the room more
carefully to see if he missed anything, with his bow readied. Finding
nothing new posing a threat, he softly calls out to the others, "The
coast is clear down here." Upon their arrival, he mutters something in
Common about, "Only this one's pride is hurt." After this, he will
begin to explore the area starting with the humanoid remains, keeping
watch for any new and unexpected arrivals.

You find a number of silver coins amidst the muck around the humanoid
remains as well as some pieces of jewelry.

The hatchling owlbear, detecting your movement and noise, begins to make
squawking noises.

Tigerseye asks Gord if there is some way he can calm the owlbear
hatchling so that it does not draw unwanted attentions on them.


Gord does his ranger thing and tries to calm down the hatchling. He
finds that feeding it is the only thing that calms it down enough to
make it stop squawking.

He then asks the group "Do you guys want to kill the hatchling and
destroy the eggs right here? Or should we take them back to camp? Do
people buy owl bears or owl bear eggs? If we leave them be, when they
grow up, they'll ambush some other travelers."

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============


After first showing the rest of the group what he has found so far on
the bodies, he crouches down near the eggs, out of biting range of the
hatchling. As he ponders, he runs a fingertip gently over the closest
egg, his eyes narrowed. "In this one's humble opinion, I think we
should take the eggs to Mistress Twilana first, she will know if she can
train the hatchlings, and possibly if there is a market for them. Since
one has already hatched, I would guess the others will soon follow.
Failing that, Nagel should know if mages, some religions or others
desire owlbear-based... components." He looks up and smiles slightly at
the rest of the group, "At the very least, we will have more fresh meat
for our stews, and possibly our canine ally."
Pirrick offers, "As long as they don't bring more adults down on us, I'm
content to leave them. Nature will take care of them, one way or
another. Let's take the few coins we've found and get back."
Silent will proceed into the cave, following Gord. He signs that killing
the Owlbears hatchling and eggs would be best, but capturing them for
sale could be good, too.
Once in the cave, he switches to sword (better use than spear). After a
moment of concentration, he signs that there does not seem to be any
more adult owlbears in the area.

Now, are you going to search through the muck and ick to try and find
all the coins / jewels that may be there or are you going to content
yourselves with what Tigerseye has stumbled across?

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Gord says, "Unless Silent violently objects, lets leave the hatchling to
nature like Pirrick said. Based on my effort to calm it down, it'll be
a pain to get it back to camp. And we'll be attracting lots of
attention from its howling and complaining. However, lets bring the eggs
back to camp. Lets spent some time searching for additional loot but
leave enough time to return to camp before dark. I don't want us to be
surprised so I can keep watch while you guys search. If one you guys
get tired of the yuckiness, switch guard duty with me."

Silent nods agreement to that and signs that he'll stand watch while
others search.

Tigerseye offers his own assistance in the search, and suggests that
perhaps they all take turns keeping watch and searching.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

(The following takes place at night, once you make it back to camp: )

The mid-watch is roused from their rounds by the sound of approaching
bells. Soon, the people on watch wake the rest of the camp. Everyone is
ready and dressed when the sleigh appears. It is pulled by two teams of
4 powerful stags. Holding the reins is a person of obvious advanced
years, his long beard and hair are both white, yet he still seems to
radiate strength and power. He pulls the sleigh to a halt in the center
of your camp. There he dismounts with a quick and graceful leap and bows
deeply to you all.
Laughing, he says, "I've had the very devil of a time finding you
children. None of you were in your homes. So I apologize that Christmas
comes late this year, but late is better than never, eh? "Tis the spirit
that counts, I always say. A small something I have for each of you.
Seeing as how it's arriving late, you get to pick one and one only. Now
don't worry that I'll run out of a particular item - I've still got some
magic left this night."

You may pick ONE from the following list. You must decide now which one
item you'll pick, but you can use that gift at any time over the next
year (game time). You need not tell the others what you picked unless
you're so inclined.
* One roll of a natural 20, used for any purpose (or whatever
would qualify as critical hit / success)
* Maximum damage from any one attack that hits
* One attack of any kind against you misses totally
* One UNDO any action you have made (If you pick this, there is a
logical time limit on how far back the action can be.)
* One question answered by the DM (What is this magic item, what's
behind that door, that sort of thing)
Remember, you only get ONE gift and you must decide what the gift is now
(those of you who are OOF, let me know when you get back.)

After passing out his gifts, Father Christmas leaps back into his sleigh
with a laugh and drives off. You notice that the sleigh does not leave
any tracks in the dirt.

"Luck-Uncle! Gift-Traveler! Fir-Watcher!" laughs Pirrik, helpfully
interpreting his own language
and myths into something the non-elves might grok. "It's been too long.
Doubtless my numerous good
deeds have taken time to reach your ears. Or one of your gnomes has made
an accounting error in my
favor. In either case, thank you for the present!"

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============


With Gord and Silent standing guard (and eventually taking a turn in the
search unless they state otherwise) the search of the owlbear lair is
accomplished. The prospect of gold is enough to send Pirrik diving into
the muck with - well, not gusto. Call it anosmiac greed. Tigerseye shows
a tad more restraint and a reluctance to subject himself to the layers
of filth but - after finding the first gemstone - overcomes his
aversion.
The final tally you scrounge out is:
4000 Silver
Gem 1 - Amber
Gem 2 - Coral
Gem 3 Onyx
Gem 4 Agate
And the prize of the bunch:
1 bracelet - wrought platinum

Of course, all who searched are covered at least up to their elbows in a
mixture of feathers, fur and feces.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

I honestly can't remember if you decided to take the eggs or leave them.
And I'm too lazy (read: busy) at the moment to go back and look at past
emails. So, I'll assume you bundled up the eggs with the rest of the
stuff you got out of the cave before you make your way back to camp.
Tigerseye lets the others leave the cave first, calling out that he will
follow in just a moment. It isn't long before you see him, wiping his
hands as best he can on what was once a clean spot of his otherwise
filthy cloak.

Assuming nobody has any reason to stick around...

You make your way back to camp where the smell of owlbear stew cooking
doesn't quite cover the smell that sticks to you at the moment. "My
little lambs," Ahmed cries. "More like little skunks you now are. We
sent you to find the lair of the beasties, not to roll in their
droppings! Still, my lambs must have had a reason for this. Ahmed trusts
his lambs. Mistress Twilana, the brushes, if you will. Master Nagel, I
think this calls for the good soap and, finally, Dinko, your largest pot
of water to heat over the fire, please. Off with those clothes once the
water is hot, down to your small-clothes, my lambs. See Morlan if
instructions in caring for your leathers are in order."

Nagel approaches Gord (from upwind) and says, "Report, please. What did
you find? (Assuming he tells him about the hatchling, the eggs and the
fact that there were no further adults to be found. Also, if told about
the gems and jewelry he'll offer to appraise the stuff accurately - for
a fee.)
If asked the fee, he'll tell you that appraisers in the city will charge
10% of the sales value. He'll charge you 5% and claims he's much more
accurate.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Gord tells Nagel that this is the group's loot, and he'd like to wait
until tonight at the campfire for the entire group to determine what to
do.

After dinner, at the campfire, Gord makes the announcement to the group:
"Our group fought bravely to defend the caravan and defeated the owl
bears. Here is the loot that we found at their cave. I propose that
everyone who fought the bears and/or travel to the cave gets an equal
share. Nagel has offered to appraise them for 5% fee, which he says is
less than the 10% fee in the city. Do you agree with the fee so we can
quickly determine how much they are worth and distribute the wealth?"

Silent agrees but also gestures there should be an additional share to
go to the family of Tomas, if Nagel will agree to get it to them.

Nagel replies, "Alas, I would, Lad and add a share of my own as well.
Yet brave Tomas had no family that he ever spoke of."

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============


Walking into camp and listening to Ahmed, Tigerseye visibly sags with
relief upon hearing talk of "the good soap." Before starting his own
cleanup, Tigerseye asks Twilana if she believes that the unhatched
owlbears could be trained and, if so, how best to store the eggs for
now. He then enthusiastically starts stripping off his armor once the
hot water arrives, along with his boots and all else that has even a
spot of that muck left on it. After liberally washing with the warm
soap and water, he dresses in his spare clothes, and gets to work on
cleaning all of his gear. He also sees about replacing those arrows he
had lost.

At Gord's suggestion, Tigerseye looks up from cleaning his gear. "This
one's vote would be to follow Gord's suggestion, a fair distribution of
the treasures gained. Also, it would be simpler to tally in the gems
now, and I do believe that Master Nagel would offer up a reasonable
price for them. However, the bracelet, I would be interested in both
having our mage friend see if there is any sign of enchantments upon it,
not to mention, since we have better light available to us than in that
cave, I would like to see if there are any marking of note upon it. It
may have more significance than it's monetary worth, a worthwhile thing
to check, this one thinks.



Twilana says, "You can pack the eggs in snow to delay hatching, but I
don't think that's going to get us all the way to the city. Those who
have treasure they wish guarded by beasts such as these generally insist
upon their beastmaster imprinting on them the moment they hatch. Despite
our best effort, these will hatch along the way. While we may be able to
sell them regardless, we'll still have to feed them. Any of you want to
give up your meat rations for the prospect of making a few gold? My
advice is to feed them to the wolf."

None of the spell-casters think that the bracelet is magical. It's also
lacking any markings of ownership.

Since there were only a couple of yes votes to have Nagel appraise the gems and no no votes, I went ahead and had him do so:

"You've found some worthwhile items. You've got 4 gemstones:
A nice amber, worth about 100 gold
Some coral, worth about 60 Gold
An onyx, worth about 50 Gold
and an agate, worth maybe 10 gold.
Total for gems, 220 gold or so.
The real prize is that bracelet of wrought platinum. I'd say it's worth about 3000 gold.
I can arrange to sell the lot for you once we get to town and not get charged the import fee that you, as foreigners would see. You've got about 3220 gold worth of precious stones and jewelry here, my appraisal and sales fee would be 160. That still leaves you with 3080 to split amongst yourselves."

You finish your cleanup chores and bed down for the night. Silent mimes that Flametail would be happy to eat the eggs. Unless someone speaks up, I'll assume he does so. Otherwise, I need to know what you're planning on doing to keep them from hatching or to care for the hatchlings.

Morning comes without incident and you pitch camp. It's a solemn moment as you pass by the cairn dedicated to Tomas, knowing that it could as easily have been one of you.

Then it's back on the road. Before long, you crest the pass and begin your trek down the mountain road.

Anything special anyone is doing?

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Upon hearing what his share of the loot is from the appraisal, Pirrik is distracted somewhat performing mental calculations on what he'll be able to purchase. He quickly shakes this off, however, and shows even greater levels of alertness in his daily duties.

Morlan spends quite a bit of time re-enchanting his various items which had lost their enchantment due to the magic-draining device they found. After that has taken place to his satisfaction, he returns to his normal, social self.

Temperatures begin to climb slightly as you work your way down the switch-back trails. Eventually, you begin to re-enter the tree-line. Shortly thereafter, Nagel takes Ahmed aside and Ahmed then gathers you all.

"Most delighted Ahmed is with his little lambs. You have shown responsibility and courage. But now extreme care must be taken lest you end up as lamb stew. The master has told Ahmed that this region is known to hold hobgoblins. Therefore, for the next three days, no-one will be riding in the wagons, all will be on mobile watch. Weapons out and bows strung at all times. This is the most dangerous portion of our mountain trek, my lambs."

Tensions remain high for the entire first day and into the night. Late the next morning, Gord returns from one of his scouting trips at a dead run. He reports to Nagel and Ahmed and the caravan continues on until you come to the scene.

You come across the wreckage of two wagons. They are not blocking the trail as they have been pushed off to the side. Examining the wagons shows that they are empty. The wheel axles are cleverly constructed to allow the fitting of ski-runners in place of wheels. At first, it looks almost like the wagons lost control in a turn and crashed. After much searching, however, you find some scrubbed bloodstains and one broken arrow, identified as hobgoblin.

Nagel addresses you all:
"A master trader takes certain binding oaths. Some have to do with profit and loss margins, taxation and such. The one that concerns us here is that a master trader must render aid to other members of the guild wherever possible. You see here the wreckage of Junior Trader Mjahn's caravan. I know Mjahn. I know he was anxious to get certain items delivered to the city, so anxious that he didn't want to wait for the snows to melt in the pass completely. Hence the strange rigging of his wagons. Were this an actual accident, there should be bodies, at least of his tow-beasts. No, this was a raid by Hobgoblins. But there's some other element here. Hob's normally don't take prisoners. There's no bodies here. I can't believe Mjahn's entire crew was killed and carted off for the cookpots. Not without taking a Hob or two with them. And the Hobs don't bury their dead, they leave them lie where they fall. Something went to some difficulty to make this look like an accident of some sort. That tells me Mjahn might be alive. And that binds me to render aid, even if he weren't my friend. But my other oaths bind me to the safety of my caravan. Here's what I propose. There's a good, defensible spot a couple of miles back the way we came. Ahmed, Lars and Nars and Twilana and I can hold off a sizable force there. We retreat to that spot. The rest of you investigate. See if you can detect the Hob's back trail. Find Mjahn and his crew. Full combat bonuses for the lot of you, plus whatever booty you can take from the Hobs. What say you?"

Silent will sign to the group the following while still at Mjahn's wagon:

Flametail says There was blood here, but I cannot tell you the race.
Two-leg blood smells alike. When it is fresh, I can say sometimes what
made it. But I smell something... off here. Like elf but not elf. It
is very faint. But I can track the blood to where the wounded was
taken.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Tigerseye thanks Nagel for his appraisal of the gems and says that his preference would be to have Nagel go ahead and take care of the sales.

In the morning, a few minutes before the caravan sets out, Tigerseye stops in front of Tomas's cairn, head tilted slightly to one side, the fingers of his left hand running along the hilt of his sword, with a contemplative expression. With a little sigh, he crouches down before the cairn, and lightly touches the fingers of his right hand over the stones. Those close to him could tell that he is saying something almost conversational in another language, possibly his native tongue, but it is hard to make out anything. Then, pulling the still sheathed sword from his belt and holding it hilt up near his chest, he utters some solemn words what could be a different language, soft and pleasant. He then abruptly stands, turns, and walks back to the caravan.


<the wagon is discovered>

After listening to Nagel, Tigerseye ponders for but a moment and then states, "This one is agreeable to this task. I also humbly concur with Master Nagel, this does indeed look to have been no mere raid, too much care has been taken, too much work done to be simple banditry. It makes this one wonder what motive or being could be controlling these "hobgoblins." Master Nagel, do you know of any enemies this Junior Trader Mjahn could have had? Also, is there any form of slave trade in this region? Finally, can you tell us what these "certain items" were? It could be a potential motive for this attack, and it would be good to know if it were something that could be turned against us."


"Mjahn has no greater or fewer members than any other member of the guild, lad," Nagel answers. "He hasn't been at the game long enough to greatly annoy anyone of consequence. There is one item I'm certain Mjahn was carrying. 'Tis a matched goblet and plate along with a plain silver ring. Any food or drink containing ingestive poison placed in these dishes is not only neutralized, but the reaction causes the ring to emit a painful pulse. They were to be a gift to Lord Hammerson of Mithraltir. Anything else in his cargo would be whatever he picked up along the way. The dishes and ring are a secret, known only to the master traders. Not even Mjahn knew their full portent. I'll pay a recovery fee for them, if Mhahn cannot himself."


Looking to all of the group, Tigerseye says, "If there is time before we set out, I would like to know more of these creatures called Hobgoblins, habits, tactics, talents and the like. They are not native to my homelands, and I have heard only a little of them before this . It is a good thing, after all, to know one's enemy."

Tigerseye asks Nagel if there is any sort of a slave trade in the area of which he is aware. Nagel replies that slavery is outlawed in much of this part of the world but that doesn't mean slave traders NEVER raid here. Still, it would be a long trip and the number of survivors that could have been taken would not make it a profitable expedition.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Here's what the party knows or think they know about Hobgoblins:

Description: The hairy hides of hobgoblins range from dark reddish-brown
to gray black. Their faces are bright red-orange to red. Large males will
have blue-red noses. Eyes are either yellowish or dark brown. Teeth are
yellowed white to dirty yellow. Hobgoblins favor bright, bloody colors and
black leather. They keep weapons well polished.
Tribal bands of hobgoblins are likely to be encountered nearly anywhere
as these creatures are equally at home in sunlight or subterranean setting.
They fight well in full daylight and can see in complete darkness due to magical herbs they consume

The better known (more infamous) hobgoblin tribes include: rippers, leg
breakers, skull smashers, lawyers, flesh renders, marrow suckers, flayers, and slow-killers.
Hobgoblin lairs are underground most of the time
As they seek to build on the ruins of human or other more
sophisticated creatures, a hobgoblin village may be of better construction
than indicated, possibly having solid stone works, buildings or a keep.
If the lair is underground, there is a chance that there will be from 2-12 war dogs as guards.
Hobgoblins typically use swords and bows
If elves are nearby, hobgoblins will attack them in preference to any other
troops because of the great hatred they bear. They tend to add elves to their cookpots whenever possible and the most prestigious tribes also have a captive dwarven cook.
Most hobgoblins speak goblin, orcish, in addition to their racial tongue. Few Hobgoblins can speak common.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

Morlan, after checking the contents of his unique backpack, announces to the group, "I think we should go. They're hobgoblins! How much trouble could they be? I've got two of my sleep bombs, that should take out a dozen or so. Plus, we'll be bound to smell the horrible creatures long before they see us. And we've got a ranger with us!"

Pirrik says, "Wait, _HOB_goblins? Yeech, what a brutish bunch. I'd relish the chance to put paid to... well, as many of their kind as possible. It would be enough to draw me out from the shadows and go toe-to-toe with them, just to see the expressions on their ape-faces when they're skewered by an
elf. Ptui!"

Padraic will say nothing, but he will start getting ready for the trip.
Tigerseye gears up as well in his full armor. He has his bow strung and ready with his sword in easy reach should he need to drop the bow and switch to hand-to-hand fighting.

The rest of you are also well armed for this potential confrontation. You set out with Gord in the lead, ranging somewhat ahead. Silent and Flametail have requested the second spot. That puts the magic users and cleric in the middle of the pack with Tigerseye brining up the rear.

True to his word, Nagel turns the caravan around and heads it back up the pass to an area he believes is better defensible by his small remaining force. The last to leave is Ahmed, worry in his eyes, as he watches you depart.

You've put in a little distance from the road along what could charitably be called a game trail when Flametail stops at a tree. It's taller than the ones around it. He circles it, sniffing deeply before sitting and looking at Silent, his mouth open and tongue hanging out. If a dog took that posture, you would say it was grinning. With Flametail the effect is more chilling than that.
After some small difficult in figuring out exactly what his companion meant, Silent pantomimes that there either is or was a creature in the upper branches of the tree, one of the same species that attacked the earlier caravan.

When you draw closer to the tree, Silent pantomimes that Flametail smells Hobgoblin all over the tree. Gord sheathes his weapons and grabs a handy branch and begins to climb. He is roughly half-way up when he stops abruptly, as he was reaching for the next branch, the only one within arms reach.

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

As Gord begins his climb, Tigerseye mumbles something in a language nobody comprehends and moves forward quietly, pointing his bow and arrow at a spot above Gord.

Meanwhile, Gord ceases his climb about half-way up, looks around and then gestures down to the group. Finger over mouth. Next he points up and mouths "hobgoblin" 3 times.
Then he slowly climbs down to not disturb the branches. When he gets down, he gets the group together to whisper to them what he found
"About half-way up, I heard a a faint snoring above me. And the next highest branch, the only one I could really grab and use to continue my climb, has bells attached by some kind of silk thread. If more than a stiff breeze moves that branch, the bells will jingle."

Tigerseye turns to Morlan and whispers, "In your magics, do you have ways to deepen the slumber of others, or perhaps also some way to silence or otherwise negate those bells?" Turning to Gord, he continues quietly, "If it cannot be done by magic, Gord, can you reach the bells, could one fill them with leaves or mud to muffle their song? It also would be good to be able to bind the one in the tree somehow before attempting to get the sleeper down, that way, even if the hobgoblin awakens, there is naught he can do. Also, what kind of weapons did one see, if any?


Morlan rummages in his backpack bringing out a pair of gloves and a glass vial. He whispers, "the gloves enable one to climb as if they were a spider for a time. Alas, I do not think they would fit Gord, his hands are rather large. In the vial is a liquid that will turn to gas when the vial is broken. All who breath it will sleep very deeply for a few minutes. Elves, for some reason, are fairly resistant to it. The further away these items get from me, the greater the chance they have of malfunctioning, I'm afraid. Still, if I were to stand under the tree, that should be sufficient. I have no cone of silence, at least not yet. Interesting idea..."
Gord tells you that there are a fair number of bells and that getting to some of them would require hanging on the branch on which they're attached. That's sure to set them to jingling. He never actually saw the hobgoblin, only heard it's snores so he doesn't know what, if any, weapons it has.

The others turn suddenly at the sound of Pirrik's barely-muffled scoff. He doesn't turn to look at them but continues peering into the branches. "Ridiculous," he mutters. "About whom exactly did they think that contraption would warn them? They've left copious slack in their line, and run it near lots of little places where it could accidentally - or purposefully - be snagged. And their noisemakers - half of them are too heavy to move, the other half could be easily snipped off, and most of them are already muffled by green branches anyway. Those stupid apes. I'm embarrassed for them. Really."

Pirrik finally looks at his companions, all of whom are looking at him. One raises his eyebrows. Another smiles, a bit awkwardly.

"Oh. Right. Half a moment." Pirrik scurries up the tree.

Tigerseye moves in to try and quietly stop Pirrik with a gentle touch with his hand to the man's leg. He whispers softly, with his accent getting a bit strong and his grammar a bit atrocious since he is in a hurry, "Tigerseye appreciates enthusiasm and skills of Pirrik. Quite right, quite right, skill these brutes do lack. However, this one asks you to wait but a moment, placement of this would-be watcher tastes strange to this one. Trap of magic this could be. This one thinks, let our mage ally search for the scent of magic upon the bough's first. See if Tigerseye simply paranoid be. No scent, then we bring deeper sleep to the would be watcher with friend Morlan's own fine talents. Bind them fast in their slumber with strong rope. Then bring dreamer down, wake the gob, find answers to questions at leisure."

Gord whispers to the group:

"I have assessed the surrounding area. The sentry is in the tallest tree around. You can see that there are signs that some of the trees have been topped (the upper portions trimmed down) in the area between the pass and here to give an unobstructed view of the pass road from the sentry position.
Looking Northeast (the direction the tracks lead) you can see where other trees might have been treated the same way. Off in the distance, however, you can see another tree, taller than the rest. That tall tree may be another sentry post.
There isn't a lot of covering brush around for us to sneak by.
Before we can get to the goblin camp, we need to take out these sentry posts - one way or another"

[BabbageCliologic]

============
GM POST
============

It seems some clarification is in order. As this is most likely my fault (I should probably have drawn the map of the area out on graph paper, scanned it in and then emailed you all a copy. However, my home machine is being cranky in talking with the scanner and I’ve been too busy to troubleshoot that problem.)

To recap: You’ve found a busted up wagon but no bodies on the pass road. Your ranger has found tracks and signs of Hobgoblin attack. The warg in your party smells some trace of something “elf, but not-elf.”

You’ve followed this trail about ½ a mile from the road. You have come to a tree, the tallest in the area, which smells of Hobgoblin. The ranger has noticed that some trees between where you are and the road have been topped. There is a platform high up in the tree upon which rests a sleeping hobgoblin. (It’s around noon, by the way. You don’t think that Hobgoblins are nocturnal.) The position of the platform relative to the pass road indicates that it is possible someone on the platform could monitor the pass road.

Climbing the tree is easy. However, the branch just beneath the platform, the one a NORMAL climber would HAVE to use to get to the platform is festooned with twine and bells. Anyone jarring that branch would set the bells to clanging.

Some distance away (about half a mile as the crow flies, further if you follow the trail) there’s another tall tree standing alone. You cannot tell from this distance if it also has a platform.

You have several options. Most (if not all of these) have been suggested by one or more party members:

1) Pirrik climbs the tree and uses his Find and Remove trap skill to remove the bells. He then climbs up onto the platform and ties up the still sleeping Hobgoblin and then lowers it to the earth.
2) Pirrik uses the gloves of spider-climb and climbs up the tree. He then tosses up the sleep-bomb Morlan made before ignoring the bells, climbing the rest of the way and capturing the heavily sleeping Hobgoblin.
3) Substitute Silent for Pirrik in option 2.
4) Pirrik scouts ahead to the other tree, trying to avoid being seen.
5) The party splits into two groups, one to each tree.
6) You put a wig on Silent and dress him up like a girl hobgoblin, devise a crude winch and somehow lower him onto the platform from above and have him seduce the hobgoblin there into stepping off the platform and falling to his death. No wait, that was on a Bugs Bunny cartoon I saw…

[BabbageCliologic]

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Quick as a bunny, if bunnies wore leather armor and could climb trees, Pirrik begins to climb the tree again. Disdaining any magical assistance in his task, Pirrik quickly makes it to the branch with the bells.
For the next 10 minutes, he diligently plies his craft, snipping the twine and catching each bell before it could make a noise. The bells seem to vanish from the branch as he continues to work.
Suddenly, you hear a faint clanging noise from the branch! In one fluid motion, Pirrik grabs the branch and flips himself up onto the platform. For some reason, the name Jackie Chan comes to your mind but is quickly forgotten.
You hear the sound of a brief struggle before you see a figure falling from the platform above you. Morlan gasps and tries to get something out of his pack, muttering something about "Where did I put that feather?" However, you notice two things. 1) It's not Pirrik. 2) The falling creature stops, it's nose about 6 inches from the ground and rebounds half the distance back up the tree before starting to fall again. You then see it has some sort of cord tied to its ankle.
So far, there's been very little noise. Things have happened too quickly for any yelling to take place. You can't see how that would possibly last.

Pirrik had gained the platform upon which a hobgoblin had been sleeping. While he woke the creature in the process, his quick action prevented it from attacking, injured the beast slightly and caused it to fall off the platform, with a cord attached to its ankle and to the tree.

Pirrik looks over the edge of the platform to see the hobgoblin dangling from the end of his rope.
Grinning wildly at the twisting beast-man, the elf uses one hand to wave goodbye to him and the
other to cut the rope loose.
As fate would have it, Pirrik acts first, beatng the rest of the party on the initative roll by a wide margin. Therefore, he begins sawing through the cord shortly before Gord takes his best shot at the Hobgoblin's head. Gord rolls a critical hit. Now by my rules, this would cause AT LEAST double damage. I rolled a d100 and got an 89. I'm going to leave out the gruesome details, but suffice to say it was a head-shot.
How this works out: Pirrik was cutting the rope and Gord hit the Hobgoblin. Due to the time it takes to cut the rope and the delay between Gord's swing and Pirrik's start of action, the blow lands just as the rope is cut through. The Hobgoblin, both parts, end up several feet away from the tree.

Silent was ready with sword and had intended to signal Tigerseye to help him grab the figure on the second bounce with his other arm, using his weight to hold the figure down. Obviously, this cannot take place now. He does manage to get out of the way of the ranger's flashing sword and the spraying hobgoblin.

Tigerseye watches for anything coming to investigate the ruckus, with his bow drawn & ready.

Morlan - acting dead last in this round - holds his sleep bomb and says "Looks like this won't be needed right now. Of course, there's not much left to question either."


The round ends with Pirrik still up in the tree on the platform his dagger out. Everyone else is loosely grouped around the tree base. Several yards away are at least two pieces of hobgoblin. There wasn't much ambient noise here to begin with, just some birds. It's now gone rather quiet.
On the plus side, the hobgoblin never had a chance to scream.

[BabbageCliologic]

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After a few more seconds of watching the surrounding area for anything approaching due to the recent commotion, Tigerseye turns his attention back to the situation at hand. He sighs quietly to himself, looking at the hobgoblin's corpse with a rather frustrated expression.

"Indeed Morlan, Questions, that one will not be answering for us all today." He pause for a few seconds, perhaps collecting his thoughts, and then continues, "There was mention of another outpost in the boughs of a tree such as this? Perhaps another like the recently departed could be found there, though quite possibly not one deep in slumber, though," he looks over at Morlan, "such things could be arranged of course. This one humbly suggests that all quickly look over this site, see what, if anything, may be learned here. Then, we make plans and plots, all move as one, and then, perhaps at the other watch post, with another of these "hobs," answers to questions can be found. Much we need to know, are prisoners still alive, how many enemies, of what nature are they, fortifications they hold, what allies can they call upon? We cannot go blindly into this friends, else all face an increased risk of failing in this rescue, or even meeting our deaths."

"With the next target, we could first use Morlan's talents through the hands of Pirrik, bind the hob first and then bring it down to us all. If the creature wakes, Silent's thought of us all pinning it down and trying to bind it then is a sound one. Perhaps it would be wise to see about finding something we could use as a gag? We need the next one bound, silenced and alive if we are to learn our enemy's secrets."

Gord agrees saying "Let's search the platform and the dead hobgoblin for anything useful. Then make plans to attack the next watch tower."

Padraic quietly unsheathes his sword, and quietly asks Morlan and Gord if there is a way to get to the other tree without being seen
You make a quick search of the dead hob. Nothing useful is found. It had a sword, but an average quality short-sword. It wore leather armor.

Just then A strange bird calls from the lookout tree. Its call sounds like "Hey! Hey! Luk-oop-ere! Luk-oop-ere!" Anyone who can pull himself away from picking hobgoblin bits out of his clothes looks up to see Pirrik with his eye to some weird metal tube he's holding to his face. He's peering in the direction of the other lookout tree with a wide grin on his face. Through the grin he says, "The oth-er ha-gahlin can see e. Get. O'er. There. I dis-tract hi." With that, Pirrik thrusts his free hand forward, his fingers arranged in some arcane symbol that perhaps only makes sense to elves and hobgoblins but would likely get Pirrik's mother to slap him.

[BabbageCliologic]

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After hearing Pirrik's "bird call," Tigerseye whispers quickly in his accented tone to the group again. "Chance is, before all of us could get the next watch post, whose distance is not small - not a matter of a few moments dash, alarm will be given. Perhaps better it would be for those who are more woods worthy to quickly go, see if aught can be done to stop alarm, failing that, to report back with what manner of patrol now comes this way. This one thinks that Gord would be best suited to this task, and perhaps he could take another of his choosing, perhaps Silent and his fine friend Flametail, along with him for back up. The rest of us, ambush we could plan, both potentially remove future foes and perchance gain us a prisoner that way. I do not like splitting the group this way, but, if we all rush ahead, both slower we all will be, and most likely we will be forced into a battle in a place and time not of our choosing. This place not bad for ambush, the trail is not wide, perhaps two hobs side by side at most, and there is some cover. Or maybe we set something up a little way up the trail, hit foe when not as expected. Most likely our foes now know someone is here, or soon will, so surprise is probably lost, but for now, they only know of one for certain, this, perhaps we can use. Worst case, if Gord brings word of too many coming, retreat for now we could, though last resort that be."

Gord says

"If we rush an attack the next tower, chances are the alarm will be set. Then we'll surely have the entire camp of an unknown number of hobgoblins on us. Right now, the camp is not aware of our presence. I like some team members' idea that we capture a hobgoblin to gather more information. So I propose an alternative plan. Sooner or later, there will be one or more replacements for the deceased sentry. I suggest we set up an ambush using the tree, platform, and surrounding terrain. If it's one hobgoblin, we'll try to get him alive. If it's a group, then it's a full scale battle with us having the advantage of surprise. From the platform, we should be able to see any incoming enemies and assess their number and strength. If the enemy is stronger, then we'll withdraw back to the caravan. "

Just about then, you hear from above you, "He's not going for it, team. The hob sentry over there has reached for a lantern of some kind and some colored glass. He's ignoring me and my fine theatrics."

Gord yells up:

"Is he trying to send a signal back to base? If so, which way is he pointing the signal toward?"


Pirrik replies that his best guess is that, indeed, the hobgoblin is sending a signal back. Pirrik has also found a lantern (shuttered bullseye) and some pieces of different colored glass up on the platform.

Some info:
The two platforms are about 1/2 mile apart as the crow flies. The distance along the trail is probably more than that.

The trail is somewhat overgrown and narrows to the point where it would be hard for two hobs to march / fight abreast. The platform is a collection of branches that have been looped together with vine / rope. It's not very stable once you get more than one person on it. It's also fairly easy to spot...once you're close to it / underneath it. If you're up on it (greater than 30 feet in the air, less than 50 feet) you can then see rather easily the road behind you and the other sentry post. It's obvious that trees have been topped to provide a good view from the sentry points but to hide them unless you know where to look (or are a woodland ranger).

The other sentry is pointing to a spot roughly in the same direction that the trail is heading. I don't have my map here at work but I think the pass road you've been on runs East to West and the trail you're on travels roughly North. Therefore, it's a good assumption that the Hobgoblin stronghold would be North of your current position.

[BabbageCliologic]

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Tigerseye pauses a few long moments before answering. When he does, his words seem a tad bit slower, but clearer, with far less of an accent. It is like he is taking extra care with his speech at this point than normal.

"Friend Gord, an ambush would indeed be a superior course to follow, as I had just suggested, we could set up a fine ambush either right here, or perhaps slightly further up the trail to the other watch post where we may be less expected than at this location. I would, I admit, greatly like to have foreknowledge what comes our way, that is why I had suggested that perhaps you could scout ahead and bring us word of what comes. To do this action or not, however, is entirely your choice."

As Tigerseye continues speaking, he beings to pace back and forth in front of the group, ticking each item he brings up off on his fingers as he walks.

"I do not believe that we will be only seeing one or two replacement sentries however. The other hobgoblin has already given a signal to his people, more likely than not, a full patrol will probably be sent to investigate the sighting of a single elf, who they will probably think to be part of a larger group, or at the very least a scout for one."

"I do believe that we should stick to the trees and undergrowth for cover, and avoid using the platform. The hobgoblins have already seen Pirrik from there, placing others at that location will only increase their knowledge of our forces. As far as the ambush goes, my thought is that when we spring this trap upon our foes, we let the mages among us use their most powerful magics to take out as many of them as they can, supporting with our bows at first, and then the better warriors of our group moving in with their blades after the first volley or two. The mages and perhaps some of us still with bows in hand could continue to support the others. Leaving one or two back with our mages could also provide them with protectors in case the hobgoblins try to focus on them."

"Morlan's sleep spell could come in very handy here, not only could it take out several of the hobgoblins, but give us a few to question later on. If they have any users of magic among them, I think we should take them out as soon as possible, while they would probably know more than simple hobgoblin warriors, they would probably prove too dangerous to hold and question."

"As for a retreat back to the caravan, if possible I would like to avoid bringing the hobgoblins attention their way. We can move far more quickly than wagons if overwhelmed, and we do not know how large the full forces of this group is. If we find we are loosing, or realize that we are facing a truly enormous force, I do agree we should consider falling back, perhaps switching to hit and run tactics to wear them down. If we are victorious, and gain ourselves captives, then I would recommend we take them, as well as any other things we gain from our fallen enemies, to a more secure location for our interrogation."

"More captives are better if possible, though no more than three, more would increase the chance of us gaining a prisoner who knows the same tongue as one of us. Does any of our group know their language?"

Tigerseye stops pacing, turning to face all of the group.

"These are simply my recommendations, what are all of your thoughts on this matter?"

Making every effort not to seem as though he's talking to anyone - and especially not to an anti-hobgoblin squad directly below him - Pirrik says, "The talking and plans of the hobgoblins are going to be succinct and to the point. Grunts, mostly. Let's pick something and get going. I vote for Tigerseye's plan. I'll stay up here and shoot at the hobs while you lot ambush them."

Padraic listens attentively to everything that Tigerseye says, and after Pirrik puts in his two coppers says: “I believe that what Tigerseye says is true, and that the position up the trail is more advantageous to us. Pirrik, is there any way that you can point a signal in the same direction as the hob is pointing, but with another color. It couldn’t hurt to confuse, and possibly split the enemy. When we attack I can ask Heimdall to bless our party making us more effective in combat, and more resilient. After that it would be better for me to save my magic to keep our party in good health. I will volunteer to protect the other spell casters, but I am available wherever needed. Whatever the choice, I agree with Pirrik: we must hurry to our plan.”

Just so you know, wherever the other Hob is pointing his signal too is out of line of sight of the platform upon which Pirrik perches. (OK, alliteration isn't dead yet.)

[BabbageCliologic]

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Padraic listens attentively to everything that Tigerseye says, and after Pirrik puts in his two coppers says: “I believe that what Tigerseye says is true, and that the position up the trail is more advantageous to us. Pirrik, is there any way that you can point a signal in the same direction as the hob is pointing, but with another color. It couldn’t hurt to confuse, and possibly split the enemy. When we attack I can ask Heimdall to bless our party making us more effective in combat, and more resilient. After that it would be better for me to save my magic to keep our party in good health. I will volunteer to protect the other spell casters, but I am available wherever needed. Whatever the choice, I agree with Pirrik: we must hurry to our plan.”

Pirrik explains that wherever the other Hob is pointing the signal is out of his direct line of sight. He's slightly out of breath from all his gyrations in attempting to keep the other sentry Hobs attention focused on HIM rather than on using his "magic far-see tube" to scan the ground. So far, it seems to be working rather well. When he isn't engaged in signaling back to wherever he's signaling, the Hob sentry keeps watching Pirrik.

Silent smiles and signs his agreement with Tigereyes plan. He also gestures
that Flametail can smell better than us and that he and I could go on
a short scouting run, to see where/when the hobs arrive. Possibly
drawing them into the trap as well if we're spotted. "I'm sure
Flametail's up for a run!" *grin*

Gord says:

"Not knowing how many hobgoblins we're up against, I'd rather not split the party. What if there are 30-40 of them? We can't win even if we surprise them. I like to fight here with our full strength.
The trail is somewhat overgrown and narrows to the point where it would be hard for two hobs to march / fight abreast. We can easily pick such a spot close to where we are. When the trail narrows down, it stays narrow for several paces and then widens out again. All we have to do is position the fighters at one end of the bottleneck and hack at the hobs as they clear the bottleneck. If they are led on the field by an intelligent commander, he will either attempt to flank by cutting through the underbrush (at LEAST 7 minutes to get through the area around that bottleneck) or will pull back and try to lure us through. If they pull pack, we'll shoot them full of arrows. Pirrik will be on the tower to snipe the gobs and watch enemy movement for us. Pirrik can see them coming and tell us their number and give time for Padraic to bless us right before combat.
That being said, I'll go along with what the party votes."

With the party pretty much in accord, I've decided to speed things up a bit. Silent and Flametail do some scouting, that's how Gord is able to pick out his ambush spot. Flametail decides to stay in the woods near the trail to do a little hit and run as needed. While he feels more than capable of standing up to a Hobgoblin or even 2 or 3, he knows his skills are better used nipping at their flank and perhaps taking out a straggeler.

You array yourselves at the point closest to you where the trail bottleneck widens out. Gord and Silent stand side by side, swords out. Morlan has a sleep bomb ready to cast between the two of you to hopefully take down a few marching Hobs. Tigerseye stands ready to replace either Gord or Silent should they tire or should a Hob get past them.
Elrohir Elensar has a spell in mind that will give the Hobs reason to fear.
And Padriac stands ready with his sword should the spellcasters need protection.
Pirrik decides to stay in the tree as he can call out to you what he sees and possibly rain arrows down on the Hobs as they engage you.

Speaking of Pirrik he calls out, "Best get on your toes. We've got something heading our way. I'll be able to give you numbers as soon as they pass through a clearing...Looks like 10 Hobs or so. I don't see any dressed in robes so there's probably no shaman with them. Can't tell if one of the buggers has better armor than the others. Not sure who's leading this bunch yet. Soon as I can, I'll see if I can't skewer him with an arrow or two."

Padriac gets all of you together and calls forth the power of Heimdal to bless you in the coming combat. You are plus one to hit and save and enemies have a minus one to hit you. Pirrik and Flametail are not covered in this blessing as they are too far away.

[BabbageCliologic]

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Prior to round one:

as the hobs get into range, Morlan tosses one of his sleep spell bombs into their midst. 5 out of 10 of the hobs go down. Morlan says "They will only be out for the next 5 minutes. Elrohir casts a spelll and the foliage at the other end of the bottle seems to grow inward, blocking off retreat.
Pirrik fires two arrows from above, missing both times.

Silent throws his axe at one of the approaching hobs and hits, killing him. Not having anywhere to go but forward, the remaining 4 hobs press forward, one coming into the gap. Gord swings at him but misses.

Round 1:

Pirrik fires off another two arrow, one missing and another killing a rather weak hobgoblin.
From the snaps and growls, it would seem that Flametail has found the sleeping Hobs and dispatched two of them.
Gord swings and nearly beheads a Hob. Another one pushes into the gap and deals a strong blow at Gord, striking him for 4 points. Silent kills that hob in return.
At the end of Round 1, one hob is conscious and 3 are sleeping.

Round 2:
Again, Pirrik fires off two arrows, striking one hob but doing minimal damage. That hob surges forward and strikes Silent for 2 points. Gord and Silent swing at the same time and kill the hob.
Flametail has ripped the throat out of another sleeping hob, leaving two unconscious.
The brief battle is over and you've managed to capture two sleepers. They can easily be bound. Now, whether or not they speak common is another story

[BabbageCliologic]

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Gord approaches Padraic and requests healing for the wounds he has taken.

After the battle, the first thing Tigerseye does is move towards the two remaining hobgoblins, looking them over and asking the group in general who thinks they are best at binding prisoners. Morlan offers to use his skill with leather and some leather strips he has to fasten the Hobs wrists and ankles together.

Next, Tigerseye calls up to Pirrik, asking, "What is the other sentry doing, does it look like he saw what happened and ran off or is he still there?"

Silent also wants to know if the hob in the tree saw the battle? Silent signs we should go after him next.

Silent thanks Flametail for his battle skills.

Also, Silent and Flametail will wait for the spell-choked foliage to subside then back track the hobs just a short distance to see if any more are on the way.

Pirrik calls down, "The other sentry isn't on his platform. I can't spot him anywhere.

Quick recon by Silent and Flametail does not discover any other hobs in the area. Also, the foliage that had seemed to become overgrown appears never to have actually grown.

What you know once you have a moment to confer:
1) It is 1/2 mile from one sentry point to another, as the crow flies.
2) Pirrik brings the lantern and far-seeing tube with him. Morlan examines both and determines that the tube is not magical, just a clever application of ground glass lenses. The lantern is another matter. It has a VERY bright light inside, but does not give off any heat. Padraic gueses that there is a continual light spell inside. He admits that such a spell is beyond his current abilities to create, as does Morlan.
3) Between the moment the sentry hob gave the signal and the moment when Pirrik noticed that there was a patrol coming was 10 minutes. (YOu guys did stand around and debate tactics for a while, you know.)
4) It's not unreasonable to assume that either there's another sentry post or the main lair of the hobs 1/2 mile out from the sentry post Pirrik had been observing.
5) Pirrik doesn't know how much of the battle the other sentry saw before taking off or how much he COULD see. The far-seeing tubes only seem to work up to about 1/2 mile. And there was a fair bit of overhead growth were the battle was. However, the sentry almost definiately saw Pirrik shooting arrows down at the hobs.
6) 3 rounds have elapsed since the end of battle. (tying up prisoners, recon, and conversation If Padriac choose to heal Gord, that could also take place during those three rounds.

Here's how things work: General questions for me regarding what you can see through casual observation do not take any time. If it's something that would require you to search a bit, such as run up the trail a ways, I'll factor that into the time required. Talking amongst yourselves will take some time. However, since I really hate splitting the party into two or more groups, I'll usually be generous in that regard. But if you say something like, "Silent pauses several moments before answering" then I'm going to assume you're spending at least a couple of minutes in thought.

[BabbageCliologic]

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To heal Gord's wounds Padraic prays to Heimdall saying in a quiet voice "Heimdal ykkarr nafns vegr, fregna sem fylgji thissi slatr"

DM Note: Gord is healed to full hitpoints.

Padraic then says, "With the other sentry missing, we again need to hurry to our course of action. Morlan, can this sleeping spell be negated so that we can question these prisoners? We may have time to wait for them to wake, but shortly after we could have the enemy on us. Most likely the other sentry will be able to direct other forces to this spot. I think that we should move from it as soon as possible."

Morlan replies, "They should be coming out of it any second. If not, a slap in the face would wake them right quick."

[BabbageCliologic]

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Tigerseye responds to Padraic suggestion while starting a quick search of the fallen hobs looking for anything of either value, or that gives some hint of what the group may be facing. "Since the other sentry is missing, and it is possible another patrol is already on the way, I agree we need to move very swiftly."

*He flips a dead hobgoblin body over to rummage through any pockets or pouches.*

"I don't believe we have time to interrogate the hobgoblin prisoners here. Perhaps, after ascertaining which if either of the two know common, we take only the ones we can actually interrogate with us to a secure looking location further back. Not the caravan though, far too risky in this one's humble opinion. Morlan, since the sleepers are so close to waking up, lets get them well bound now. Would you need any help?"

*He peers at a hob for any identifying markings as he says the last and then moves on to look over the quality of it's weapons.*

"Gord, do you think in your professional opinion that we have time to cover up our tracks here? Not only might that slow the hobgoblins down while they try to follow our trail, but if we have Silent's good friend Flametail maul the bodies somewhat, especially around and blade or arrow marks, the conflict between the evidence and the sentry's tale might confuse them somewhat. After all, from what I have heard, they don't sound that bright, and might even think the sentry is lying. Or..." Tigerseye grins towards Pirrik, " they may think have just a crazy elven druid out here alone with a large canine ally or two as backup"

*He shrugs at the last suggestion as he moves to look over the next hob.*

"Might be worthwhile, but only if it could be done quickly, it would only work if these fellows are very stupid. But confusing one's enemy is rather handy, makes them slow. At the very least, that way they will have less of an idea of our numbers."

*He looks up towards Silent.*

"What would you think of the idea of sending Flametail to watch for another approaching patrol, to give us a heads up if they are getting too close?"

One of the Hobgoblins laughs loudly, obviously fully awake, but bound. Searching the hobs you find average quality short swords, shields with a sort of spider-marking design on them and not much else. They are not carrying any money.

The Hobgoblin who laughed says, "Release now you die quick. Not release you die slow. Much torture."


Gord says:

Thanks Padraic. I suggest that Pirrick and I scout to the next tower and keep watch from there while you guys conduct the interrogation. If Pirrick sees them coming, he'll make a special signal noise, and we'll make haste back here. Otherwise you guys move up to the next tower after you're done with the prisoner.
(Turn to Pirrick) So Pirrick, what special signal do you want to do?


Silent places his hands on his own wounded body and you see his wounds close. Silent also claps Gord on the back for a good battle.
Silent and Flametail will watch the direction the hobs came from, standing a little apart from the group.


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Ok, we have some conflicting strategies but not by much. The general consensus is that you question the Hobs while watching out for another approaching patrol.
All things being equal, this would happen rather quickly as the sentry at the further tower had taken off towards to Hob camp sometime during the battle.
Fortunately, all things are not equal and you have a Warg with you as an NPC. Rather than wait around and watch as ordered, he took off after the sentry, trusting his ability to move through the brush faster than the Hob can travel down the trail. Flametail returns to the party with a rather satisfied look on his face and licking fresh blood off his snout. You take that to mean that the sentry has been taken care of.

Logic would then dictate that you have a bit more time than you had originally thought. What you don't know is whether or not the sentry had sent a signal before he booked out or what signal he sent.

You have one Hobgoblin captive who hasn't said anything and one that's shown at least a minimal knowledge of common. You've got weapons and shields from 10 hobgoblin soldiers (and their clothing if you really want it.) You manage to recover 3 of the arrows Pirrik shot. Pirrik has brought you a lantern with a continual light spell in it, a metal tube that allows you to see distant things somewhat clearer. I'm going to assume someone looks at the other sentry post, if for no other reason than to get a glimpse of where the Hobs are camped. In the other post, you find another lantern, more colored glass, another metal tube and a "book." This book is made of wooden planks held together by leather straps. Each "page" has different colors painted on it with some sort of scratching that is probably Hobgoblin writing.

Looking towards the Hobgoblin camp, being careful not to be spotted, you find some amazing sights:

It looks like the major pass road used to run a bit over a mile north (I think that's the direction you've been traveling in since leaving the caravan. I haven't transfered my maps from my home machine to my new work machine) from its current position. You can see further East of your current position where it looks like there was some sort of rock slide that blocks that road totally. You can also see the remains of a stone keep. The quick look you take (you don't want to spend too long looking as you don't want to risk being seen in return) gives you the impression that the building is quite old but there are signs of recent repair. It appears to have been hewn from the stone around it. Perhaps it existed as a way-station or border guard post many years ago. ROUGH guess is that it could house 25 to 30 people.

[BabbageCliologic]

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"So," says Pirrik, breaking the silence. "Hobgoblin fort? I'm ready whenever you lot are."

Tigerseye practically beams at Flametail's return with blood on his snout. "Beautifully done friend Flametail, wonderfully, beautifully done!"

His good mood continues as he examines one of the hobgoblin's shields, turning around in his hands, tilting it this this way and that to get a good look at the spider symbol crudly painted upon its surface. He goes very still, the pleasant mood fading away as he softly mutters, "An elf but not-elf scent at the caravan site..." He hisses slightly under his breath.

He slowly turns to the hobgoblin that spoke, a faintly grim and vaguely sinister smile on his face, "This one thinks that it is you who should be thinking of their long term fate, slow death and much torture, hmm?" He chuckles softly to himself, shaking his head slightly, and goes back to looking at the shield, lightly drumming his fingers on its surface.

Pirrik's comment seems to break him out of his revere. "Yes, we definitely need to see this fort, and soon. Let us first quickly see what we can get out of our brash and foolish little hobgoblin, and then carefully make our way there. But first, friend Pirrik of elven blood, tell me if this symbol looks familiar to you? It makes me think of legends and stories of my people, dark tales all. Stories that I do not think are pure fantasy."

[BabbageCliologic]

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Silent pulls Gord and Pirrik aside, out of sight of the live hobs, and signs "now is the time to do some deception. Follow my lead." Pirrik and Padraic drag the hob who doesn't seem to speak common away, just out of visual of the other hob and the dead hobs. With the non-common speaking hob's back turned, the others drag a dead hob nearby. Silent and Gord kick and throw the other hob down next to the dead hob until the live hob cries out. Then Silent jumps on him and gags his mouth and pushes him out of the way.
Then Gord, Silent and Flametail butcher the dead body. While this is happening, Pirrik is asking the common-speaking hob, who can only see Gord and Silent
chopping at the out of sight hob, about how many other hobs there are, are there any holes in the tower wall, and anything else he can think of. Silent then with bloody sword and a hobs head with it's face ripped off, walks toward them slowly, with angry eyes. Pirrik plays this up, I can't stop him. Fear should inspire him to talk. Then we knock them both out (Silent will not kill them bound).


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The common-speaking hob seems about to pass out and has soiled himself in fear. He answers the questions first in Hobgoblin before calming himself slightly to be able to remember common.
"Many hobs dwell in old human keep with dwarf tunnels below. About fist of fist of warriors. Have some prisoners still. You take, promise me me get set free, me show you back way in keep. Must climb rocks. Hob guards have still, make moonshine. Bosses not know."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

During the pantomime Silent performs to get his point across to Gord and Pirrik:
Pirrik says, "You want me to... put on a puppet show? While you... make a... salad?
No, no, wait, I get it. Sure, sounds good, though it's more effort than necessary to trick one of these troglodytes. Uh, no offense to any actual troglodytes who might be listening."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

Tigerseye slowly walks over to the hobgoblin prisoner, with malevolent grin upon his face, still carrying the shield. He speaks with a slow, soft voice, with very little trace of his usual accent but with a slight hiss, "The 'bosses,' hmm? Tell us more about your Masterssss little one, and then maybe we will feel more, ah generousss with you than we were with your poor, unfortunate fellow. What do they want, what do they look like, what... talents do they possessss?" He holds up the shield with the spider symbol upon it. "Is this their symbol?" He asks as he scraps one nail over the surface of the shield. "Speak quickly and true hob, your... long term welfare depends upon it."

Racial difference aside, the look of fear on the Hob's face is obvious. Yet, somehow, you get the feeling that he isn't nearly as scared of you as of someone or something else.
"Bosses? Not b-b-b-b-betray Bosses! NOT! NOT! NOT!!!!"
He slumps against his bonds, muttering and whimpering in his native tongue.

Tigerseye tries a different subject, "You mentioned that there were some prisoners left, what kind of condition are they in, little hobgoblin? And what... pray tell, happened to the other prisoners you took?"

"One prisoner left in keep. Dwarf. Him fight good, maybe we turn him. Some prisoner killed after going through arch. Some sent as slaves or to trade for ransom."

"What is this 'arch,' you speak of hob," Tigerseye asks "And who did you send and trade the slaves to?"

"Arch uncovered in old tunnels. Is magic. Not tell where slaves went. NOT! NOT TELL!!!"

Tigerseye responds, "Hmm... that is, most, unfortunate, that you will not tell. Perhaps you are not useful to us, if you are not, ah, cooperative. Well, hmm, what else do you know of the arch, perhaps I would find that useful."

"Is magic. B-b-b-bosses say 'not touch, not go through.' Bosses want study. Many squigles on arch rim. Slaves walk through arch get different. Sometimes look different, sometimes act different. Sometimes nothing happen. Arch make bosses angry."

Tigerseye asks, "What do you mean by different, simple things like hair color, claws or fangs, or a completely different kind of creature? And what about the personality changes, elaborate further."

"Huh? Me not understand."

"You said the slaves who went through the arch looked different, what kind of changes did you see?"

"Me not see many slave go through. One slave go through look human. Go through arch change to not-human. Skin darker, tougher, with scales. Bosses kill it quick."

Tigerseye ponders a bit then asks, "Hmm, and what did you mean when you said they acted differently?"

"One walk through was scared. After walk through, not scared. Laughing. Bosses send slave away.."

"Intriguing. Now, let us return to the other matter, what your "bosses" did with the slaves they sent away."

"NO. Me not tell. NOT!!!"

Tigerseye tries to appeal to the hob's sense of mortality, "Now now, your Masters are not here, and we are. Your fate, is in our hands. What if I told you we would not tell your bosses that you had spoken to us?"

"They know! Bosses know. You just kill. Bosses kill me deader!"

"Oh, but little hobgoblin, how do you know we would just kill you, hmm? How do you know, that we, are not far worse than you Masters?"

"But me make oath! Oath on lady boss ring..." The hobgoblin then lets out a horrible scream as you see...things...begin to writhe under its skin. Within the space of the next two heart beats, the creature is consumed from within by a horde of spiders. The spiders ignore you all and scurry off in different directions.

Tigerseye's expression flickers for only a moment in surprise as the hobgoblin is devoured from within by the hoard of spiders. He gives out a small weary sigh, but doesn't look as surprised as would normally be expected. "There are tales that I have heard in my homeland, you know, of an old, powerful race who venerates spiders. Beings who live deep within the earth, jet black skin fellows of elven stock. Have others of you heard of such a people, and if their legends reaches this far from the lands of my birth, tales of ones known as the Drow..."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Pirrik says, "Well, this just gets better and better. First hobgoblins, then Drow, now a dwarf? "Drow? Yes, I've heard of them. They're a degenerate cousin-race of elves - or, hear them tell it, the unsullied progenitors of the entire species. That's delusion, of course. For their greed and arrogance, they were cursed by the Sun, the skin of their kind burnt coal-black, their hair bleached bone-white, and their eyes painfully sensitized to any pure light. Naturally, they're relegated to the shadows and the depths under the ground. Not, hem, that there's anything wrong with hanging about in the shadows, mind....
"As our hapless friend just demonstrated, the Drow venerate the spider: her webs, her venom, her hairy legs and her general vileness. If they've set up their larder in yonder keep, then we flies should be cautious about entering it. As for that, I don't know that I care particularly about a Dwarf - unless he's our employer's friend - or magical, skin-twisting arches, but I wouldn't mind putting a blade or an arrow in between the ribs of a Drow or two. Foul they may be, but their greed for magic and wealth could help us weigh down our packs in just the right way."

Padraic says, "From all that I have heard about the Drow we must be extremely cautious if we are to battle them. This 'boss lady' will most likely be a Cleric of their goddess Lolth. The women of the Drow lead, and are considered superior to their males, so this woman is most likely one of their leaders. The Drow are extremely intelligent and ruthless, but as Pirrik said they are vulnerable to the light of the sun."

"Are there any suggestions as to how we should proceed? I for one would love to find this back way in that the Hob mentioned. It will probably be away from the eyes of many, and allow us access to their lair without too many problems. However, it may prove too difficult to find."

Silent signs that he's sure between Gord's Ranger abilities and Flametail's tracking/smell abilities (with Silent along to "translate" between them), we should find the back way.

Gord says:

I don't think we are "experienced" enough to take on the Drows. Our mission is to recover any captured raiders. I think we should go on at least far enough to ascertain the fates of the missing traders. Based on what's been said so far, we should be safer if we stay outside and in the sunlight, i.e. don't go underground
=========================================

Note from the DM: While it's true that you will sometimes be presented with challenges that are beyond your current level of experience, I will do my best to place MANY in-character warnings to you that you shouldn't attempt a particular adventure. If you decide to ignore those warnings...so be it.

In this case, however, I have run 1st level characters through this particular adventure and had an acceptable survival rate.

That being said, I won't force you to take this adventure. Neither will I sit at my desk and pout if you don't. I promise I won't toss unreasonable random encounters at you along the way to your destination either.

However, I do promise that none of the rewards I've placed inside will appear elsewhere. <evil laugh>

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Pirrik says, "I'm all for finding the backdoor. My guess is that we won't even encounter any Drow. They're not like to leave off their spider worship and prisoner torture to bother policing their own property.
That's why they cow lesser races, like these hobgoblins, into working for them. And with the hobs
too frightened to report failure immediately, we could be in and out with the prisoner before the
Drow even know about it."

Padriac says, "I agree with Pirrik. Even though this mission was asked of us, not given to us, I for one could not live with the guilt of knowing that I could protect a soul from the machinations of these evil creatures" Gesturing toward one of the dead Hobs, "or their masters."
*more quietly* "Even if that soul is a Dwarf."

Morlan weighs in on the issue of facing the Drow. "In my homeland, we've dug deep. Sometimes too deep. One tunnel reached what the dark elves call the Underdark. The first indication we had that something was wrong was when our tunnels began to show signs of cave spiders. Loathsome beasts, but easily enough dispatched. We were suspicious that such creatures would be found so deep where there is scarce prey for their tastes. Our suspicions were well founded. Before long our mining operatives were victims of sneak attacks - usually darts from their infernal crossbows. We gnomes are resistant to the poison they dip their quarrels in but get pricked enough times and the venom can have an effect. So we developed an antidote for it. It's a simple formula and one I am happy to say that I know by heart. I'm pretty sure I've got the ingredients I need in my traveling lab here and I can whip up enough to dose us all while we're walking, provided someone makes sure I don't walk into a tree or the like. You drink it down and you'll be immune to the poison for one hour. After that, you'll be somewhat resistant for another hour. Of course, it would be better not to be hit by the darts in any case but a little insurance couldn't hurt, eh? And I'm assuming we go in. After all, where there's one prisoner there's the chance of another. Our captive could have lied or been in error. I don't relish the thought of leaving any sentient being in the captivity of the dark ones."

Tigerseye nods quietly with the preceding comments, agreeing with most of the points. "I do believe that it is worthwhile to proceed with the rescue attempt, if we are cautious we stand a reasonable chance. We must take special care with any priestesses we find, they sound powerful... hmm, better to avoid them if possible, the last thing we need is the ire of some dark deity. I do wonder if we can make use of the surviving prisoner to find our way to that little 'back entrance?' Hopefully we should be able to get the one prisoner out, and, who knows, perhaps others as well. At the very least, we can try to discover what happened to the survivors that were sent somewhere else." He pauses for a moment, and then adds very softly, "And let us not forget about that fascinating archway..."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Tigerseye said, "I do wonder if we can make use of the surviving prisoner to find our way to that little 'back entrance?'

Pirrik replies, "Give it a try, but don't be surprised if he goes to spiders on you.
Ick.
"If the back entrance is concealed, we elves should be able to suss it out. Elves couldn't live for centuries without knowing a little about the ways of concealed passageways. And if it's not concealed, well, it'll probably just be guarded. And no one can live for long without knowing a little about the ways of guards."

The surviving Hobgoblin shows no understanding of anything you say in Elvish, Gnomish or any of the common tongues of man you all speak. If anyone wants to try pantomime to get your point across, please state exactly what you are going to do to convey your question / demand.

However, what you do know from your previous captor - the one who became spider-chow - is that the "secret back entrance" is a bit of a climb on the rocks behind the keep right next to the "hidden" still. You do have amongst your party someone with a nose many times keener than anything that walks on two legs. Flametail is sure he can find anyplace on the rocks above the keep where wood, coal or charcoal is burned with any sort of regularity.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Silent observes the hob getting eaten by spiders with a raised eyebrow and a gesture to banish evil. He follows the conversation about finding the back door and agrees that helping free prisoners and fightin' baddies is a good idea.

Pirrik says "Lead the way then, Flametail."

Pirrik will help the group take the stealthiest route up to the keep and will keep an arrow nocked to silence anything that looks like it might raise an alarm.

Tigerseye also has his bow out. You've decided to leave your hobgoblin captive behind, tied up and gagged rather than risk him setting off an alarm somehow feeling that any help he could give would be limited at best.

Deciding that speed is of the essence and wanting to get inside the keep before the last patrol is missed, you hurry to the keep, skirting the outer edge of the walls in favor of the rocky slope above it.
Those of you with an eye for such things believe that this is an example of human and dwarf working together. The stonework itself is obvioulsy dwarven yet many of the decorations look human designed. Morlan thinks the keep itself is around 500 years old. That makes it older than the great war of the underdark - the last time the races of light banded together to battle the drow.

Up on the rocks behind the keep, Flametail sniffs the air repeatedly before moving off slowly. You follow him upwards on an easy slope and come out above a level area upon which has been constructed some sort of apparatus. You see copper tubes, a boiler above a coal firebox. At the end is a glass dome with a spout that is dripping into a clay jar. You also see two hobgoblins taking turns tending the fire. The also look at the jar longingly.
Morlan whispers, "I would love to have a closer look at that still. It would be very useful to refine the antidote I've blended up. Also, if it comes to combat out here, do try not to disrupt the still too much. Those things tend to explode if you're not careful."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Tigerseye suggests that, rather than risk an up close engagement of the Hobs that instead everyone with a bow fire off a volley of arrows at the two hobs visible . Then, the fastest fighters can finish off any survivors.
Pirrik indicates that he's fine with that idea, stringing his bow and notching an arrow.

Pirrik whispers confidently "I can skewer one of those hobgobs, if
you give me half a moment. Someone will need to take out the other, though."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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A question was asked about paths leading out of the area. If the hobs were charged, where could they run to?

They could certainly scamper over the rocks and try to escape into the woods. You've taken a somewhat curved route so as to come down on them from above. This has also allowed you to see them unobserved for the time being AND to see the "secret entrance" into the keep, a hole in the ground near the rear wall. Obviously, the hobs could retreat there if given the chance.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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The way I always try to look at it is that it's best to get the bad rolls out of the way early. Small comfort, I realize.

You find a good ambush spot easily enough where you can get the drop on the two hobs tending the still. Gord, Silent and Tigerseye prepare to send a volley of arrows down there while Pirrik and Flametail make their way under the available cover to be on hand to administer the final touches.

And it's a good thing they did.

Of the 6 arrows fired,2 hit, wounding one of the hobgoblins (as I said, the dice gods...) Pirrik slides his short sword into that wounded hob (it was closer) and ends his misery. Flametail connects with a bite on the other hob, causing it pain and fear but not killing it.

On the positive side, there was very little noise. On the not-so-positive side, you've got a live hob on your hands who hasn't screamed an alarm...yet.

In the second round of combat, the hobgoblin who had been held by Flametail struck at the wolf, doing no damage but gaining his release. Able to breath at last, the hob drew in a deep breath, as if to fuel a scream or shout, only to let it out in a soft hiss as 3 arrows slam into him, ending his life instantly.
Since I know you're going to search the hobs and the area, here's what you find:
On the hobs, One short sword, one crude bow, 12 arrows, a nice sling (obviously NOT hob made) and 10 silvered lead bullets. About 5 gold worth of copper and silver coins and a spiked mace.
In and around the still you find 6 clay jars with a pungent liquid in them, the same liquid is dripping from one end of the still into a catch basin. There is a small length (about 8 inches) of spare copper tubing that matches an area of the still that seems to have been replaced a time or two. You also find a flint and steel and some neatly stacked firewood. While you are searching, Morlan has purged the still (taking great care not to let the liquid land on the fire) and begun heating up his potion. "Five minutes more," he whispers. "Then the brew will be at full strength. Soon as it cools enough, drink it down...except for our lupine friend here. I don't know if drow poison effects wolves and I can't be sure my brew will not harm him."
Opposite the still is a hole in the ground. Taking a quick peek inside, you find that it is a short passage into a larger corridor. This looks like a natural fault that was exploited to provide easy access to the surface.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Pirrik says, "I'll replenish my arrows, if no one minds. Then I'll scout ahead down that hole. Just keep an ear cocked in case I need a hand up in a hurry."


Tigerseye nods in agreement to Pirrik's suggested scouting mission, softly adding, "This one wishes you good luck, little elf. How long should we give before we mount a rescue, should the unexpected occur?"

"Oh, uh, I'll be trying to keep the opening in sight. Shan't be gone more than a few minutes."

After Pirrik departs, Tigerseye will softly approach Morlan when he not busy with the potion, and, after glancing over towards the six clay jars, will quietly ask, "Friend Morlan, does one think we can possibly make use of the hob's brew? It smells quite strong, and something of that strength could possibly burn quite well. Perhaps a rag stuffed into the top of the jugs, that could be lit shortly before being thrown, could turn our enemy's "entertainment" into a weapon? What are your thoughts on this, is it too dangerous or perhaps do you, as an alchemist, have a more efficient idea of how to make use of them?"

Morlan stops to consider for a moment, "I certainly wouldn't recommend drinking the stuff. It would likely burn your gizzard, if you've got a gizzard to burn, that is. You can rub it into a wound and reduce the chance of infection. As to burning it, It's likely got a pretty low flash point. It's going to vaporize pretty quick on contact with air. The problem with stuffing a rag into a jar is that you've no longer got nearly as airtight a seal as you had before. The jar would be just as likely to explode when you bring a torch to the rag as it would when the jar hits the ground. I'd suggest one of two uses for it if you want to weaponize it. Use it as an explosive if you need to blow up a stationary object or smash the jar on the floor under your enemy THEN apply flame.At the least, the flash may daze them and it may set their clothes on fire."

Silent smiles at the thought of "boom!" and signs that it may be good
to hide some of them, ready to go, in case we need to make a run for
it. Taking a few with us would be good, too.

Morlan looks over at the cache of weapons you've found and says "I could put that sling to good use if none of you want it."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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After a few tense moments where you waited to hear his blood-curdling scream, Pirrik makes his way out of the hole and reports, "No sign of any more hobs or anything else. The tunnel comes to a corridor within the wall of the keep. There's a door to the west - no sound beyond. To the east, the hall goes south toward what might be stairs down. I didn't take a close look. "I suggest we find out what's behind the door, first."

Silent signs "what order shall we go in? I'll be towards the front,
with sword and shield."

Pirrik says, "I'd like to stay near the shadows, away from our torches. I'll take point, a few dozen steps ahead, with an option to retreat behind Silent."

Tigerseye smiles back at Silent, and agrees with the idea of leaving a set of the clay jars right by the door so that they can use them should the group have to make a run for it. He suggests that they leave four of them here, pre-positioned, for that purpose, taking two of the jugs with them. Tigerseye will then ask Morlan for recommendations on how best to safely carry the two jugs. Morlan replies, "Keep the lids tight. If we're going to be in a hand-to-hand fighting situation, toss the jars. It would be better if they broke away from us than all over us."

At Morlan's request, Tigerseye says that he would have no issue with Morlan make use of the sling. He will also suggest to Morlan that he save the silvered ammo if possible and use small rocks on the hobgoblins instead, since there are some things that are particularly harmed by such things.

You all make it down the hole, including Flametail. There was a moment where it seemed as if Flametail would not enter, but Slient and the wolf seemed to come to an understanding.

Once you're in the corridor, you take up the following marching order (this is based upon several emails, some of them contradictory to each other and some assumptions on my part).

Point is Pirrik. He is several feet ahead of the group both to remain silent and avoid your light sources.

Next is Silent and Flametail.

Padraic says, "Although I can fight, I am not the most effective, perhaps I should take rear guard. As light will be needed, I will let you know that I am able to call upon Heimdall to create light on an object for a time if no other source is available."

Padraic and Tigerseye bring up the rear guard. Unless someone else comes up with a light source Padriac will cast a "Light" spell.

Gord takes up the second row with Morlan and Elrohir Elensar behind him.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

"Pirrik, why did you stop?"

"I- uh, nothing, nothing. No problem...." Pirrik appears to be some sort of figuring in his head,
then reaches a more or less firm decision. "_That_ is west," he says, pointing at the door. As the
party proceeds, one or two members hear the elf mutter something about it being too soon to get
turned about.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

You scramble quite easily down a hole at an angle that levels out. You think this mostly natural tunnel (you see some signs of "improvement" but none that indicate the use of pick axes or other mining techniques) that goes for about 20 feet in total before letting out into a stone corridor. The stones of the wall from which the tunnel leads are neatly stacked. It looks like they could be easily replaced to fool the casual observer. You have entered into the north wall. The corridor extends east about 20 feet before turning south and 30 feet west before ending in a door.

Seeing the lack of light in the corridor itself, Tigerseye tells Padriac,
"Save your prayer, I learned a cantrip for improving my sight in dark places at a young age from an older brother. As the only member of the party who does not naturally see in dark places, it would seem the perfect choice for this situation."
Suiting actions to words, Tigerseye chants briefly and then sighs contentedly. With that taken care of, the party advances to the door Pirrik noted earlier.

'Tis better to light one candle than to curse the darkness is probably what's going on in Pirrik's head at the moment. He's approached the door in usual stealthy fashion, his picks and probes out when he realizes that infravision isn't sufficient to check for traps and such. He is about to look for a means of providing illumination when Tigerseye speaks up.
"Perhaps this one can be of some assistance here. When we had the interesting encounter with the bouncing hobgoblin, we retrieved a hooded lantern with no discernible fuel. Inside was a glow of high magnitude. Perhaps it can be used to shine light upon the door so as to allow one such as you access to whatever secrets the door might hold. It is fortunate that curiosity prompted me to take one such lantern when we left the area."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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It's hard not to notice a little disappointment in Pirrik's voice when he announces that the door is "just a door. No traps, no poison, not even a bell. I'm tempted to put one of the hobgoblin bells on it, just to give the lonely thing a little purpose. Oh, and it's not locked, either. Shoddy, I tell you."

Assuming you open the door as Pirrik had listened at it previously and determined that he couldn't hear anything inside, you are greeted by a room devoid of obvious occupants. But not an empty room.

You have entered into the room from a door midpoint in its east wall. The wall extends north and south of you 20 feet on each side. It extends roughly 50 feet to the west before reaching another wall. It is uncertain if there are other doors due to the lack of extensive light.

There are torch scones at regular intervals on the walls here. As you shine the lantern into the room, light reflects in a dull glint from the north and the west. With the exception of the area closest to the door, a thick coating of dust covers the floor.

Nearest the door, looking south, you see footprints in the dust leading to a shelf on the south wall. It's obvious to Gord (and the rest of you) that these are hobgoblin footprints.

> There are torch scones at regular intervals on the walls here.

Pirrik's stomach rumbles at the sight of the scones. He skipped breakfast.

<You hear a faint voice cursing spell-checkers that balk on the word "sconces">

As you shine the lantern into the room, light reflects in a dull glint from the north and the west. With the exception of the area closest to the door, a thick coating of dust covers the floor. Nearest the door, looking south, you see footprints in the dust leading to a shelf on the south wall. It's obvious to Gord (and the rest of you) that these are hobgoblin footprints.


See the attached Bitmap file Dusty_Room.BMP. The gray areas are where the light reflects slightly. The black rectangle represents the ONLY door in the room. The brown rectangle represents the shelf with footprints leading towards the shelf and back again.

Tigersye pats Pirrik gently on the back and say very quietly, "There, there, I am sure we will have to run into something you can play with at some point. Even if these hobgoblin's don't, I am sure their Masters will make use of something tricky to keep their valuables safe."

Holding the lantern up and looking across the dusty floor and the associated footprints, Tigerseye sighs and continues softly, "It looks to this one like we would not be able to conceal our passage by walking in the hob's old footprints, too much difference for many of our feet and gaits to make it practical." He shrugs, "The best I think we could do is sweep away all of the tracks when we are done, that way an enemy coming upon this would at least not know how many of us there are. Unless of course, someone else has another suggestion?"

Tigerseye will offer to walk behind Pirrik with the lantern during any detailed investigation of the room for any hidden compartments or traps. He will be ready to tuck the lantern away should there be any sign of approaching enemies.

Pirrik will move forward (carefully and quietly as always) to verify the existance of other portals and run his checks on same (with an eye toward the one from whence the footprints come). Then he'll inspect the shelf, followed by anything else of interest in the room. Are there also footprints leading _away_ from the shelf?

Small misconception - the footprints and you all both enter from the same door. They do also lead back to the door.

With that in mind, Pirrik approaches the shelf and finds some interesting items on it. You find a few sacks of corn, some bags of sugar, a large pot with some wet corn in it, some rather dirty linens, some yeast and some mashing tools (think potato masher only about 3 times the size). The tools look professionally made.

Crumbled in one corner of the shelf, you spot a bit of parchment.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

Dusty Room map (http://1001nightsand1night.110mb.com/PDF/DustyRoom.pdf).

The character of Elrohir Elensar, the elven illusionist, is now being played by someone else. The person who created the character was not posting so he has been dropped / replaced.

It was either that or have Elrohir throw himself on top of a grenade and we're not playing that kind of game.

-----------------
It was requested that I give a brief recap of the characters in the game:
Morlan - Gnome alchemist. He has some of the abilities of a magic user but imbues items with spell effects. These items are temporary in nature and sometimes not terribly stable. He's a good-natured sort that does his best to get along with everyone.

Pirrik - Elf. Everything is ok in a world in which Pirrik is a part. Nimble, quick and skilled in the way of locks and sneak attacks.

Silent - Half-orc. Massive young man who, as of yet, hasn't uttered a word in the party's hearing. He communicates mostly via pantomime. A skilled fighter, he recently answered the request of the mysterious horse-mistress, Twilana, to become something more and to save the live of the noble wolf, Flametail who has become his mount.

Gord - Elf. A ranger who has proven his worth in battle against owlbears and hobgoblins. Skilled as a tracker and a tactician, he generally takes point guard position as the caravan travels.

Tigerseye - hailing from a country far across the world, this seeker of knowledge speaks common with - at times - a nearly incomprehensible accent. Equally at home with a bow or sword, he is fascinated by all things magical in nature.

Elrohir - an elf. Not much is known about this character other than his class of Illusionist. He has shown his effectiveness in casting an illusion of a wall of thorns against the hobgoblins.

Padriak - Elf. He is a cleric devoted to the Norse god, Heimdahl. He has acted as spiritual adviser to the party as well as adding his skills as a warrior.

NPCs:
Ahmed. A massive human who hales from the eastern deserts. He is the master-at-arms of the caravan and a loud, friendly person. He considers the caravan guards as his little lambs and strives to guide them as best he can.

Nagel. A master trader and professional man of mystery. He owns the caravan and its contents.

Twilana, Human female. Her position with the caravan is that of horse mistress. She has a somewhat murky past and has, at great distress, shown some of the abilities of a higher level druid.

Caravan guards: There were 4 human 0 level fighters when you started your trip. One fell to owlbears. Now there are 3. I'd look up there names, but I don't have the time at the moment. :)

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

Pirrik, upon seeing the shelf and it's contents says, "Ah, the closet for their brewery supplies, I'm guessing..." regarding the parchment he says, "...Say, what's that? Maybe just an inventory list, but...."

Silent and Flametail seem to converse and then Silent signs that Flametail smells 4 individual Hobgoblin, all ones he's smelled before.
This seems to gibe with Gords assesment of the tracks. Silent will follow along, with axe in one hand (to throw) and sword in the other to switch to for battle. Silent will continue to remain mostly silent (except for the creak of his gear) and keeps himself ready to assist Pirrik at a moments notice, with Flametail at his back. Silent grins at Tigerseye when he produces the lantern and smacks his head like "I shoulda thought of that!"
Silent signs "the two at the end of the party line should shuffle their feet to obscure our tracks." Silent points out the parchment and signs "it could be important." Silent gestures about the linen on the shelves "could be useful for wicks for the booze bombs!" Silent offers Pirrik a scone, but it's a rat-jerky scone, so I'm sure that Pirrik will choose not to eat it.

By the way, the Hobs all wore a type of sandal.

The attached file contains the contents of the wadded up bit of parchment that you found stuck in a corner of the shelf. The language is Elven, but a very, very old form. There are blotches on the parchment where stains obscure the words.

Scroll PDF (http://1001nightsand1night.110mb.com/PDF/Scroll.pdf).

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Tigerseye grins back at Silent and responds sheepishly, "I almost didn't think of it myself, actually. I must be getting rusty..." He nods at Silent's suggestion of the wicks, taking the linens, and unless there are any objections, setting the lantern on the ground while he quickly cuts the linens into enough strips for each of the jugs with his dagger, adding them to his belt pouch before taking the lantern up again.


The linens, by the way, are of a very fine quality, at least they were before they were used to strain the corn mash. Not something you would expect a hobgoblin to use. You can see a design remains on them, however it is quite faint. It would appear to be some woodland scene.


If Pirrik doesn't take the scone, Tigerseye will politely ask if he could have it, a good rat-jerky scone is hard to find in these parts.

Tigereye peers over Pirrik's shoulder at the scroll, tilting his head to one side, "Hmm, can anyone in the group translate this, it looks vaguely familiar, but I just can't place it?
"This parchment looks fairly old," he continues. "Perhaps it was written by an original inhabitant of this place, though it does look like the hob's have been using it as a rag..."



Here's what Padriac was able to glean from the scroll along with some ideas as to some of the missing words.

Out of the ----- that covers me,
Black as the Pit --------- to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconq------- soul

In the fell clutch of circumstance
------ not winced nor cried aloud.
----- the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but un-----

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the mena---------------
Finds and shall find m-----------

It matters not how strait the gate,
--------ged with punishments the scroll,
---------master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Padraic says, "It seems to me that the author of this verse was set upon by a serious misfortune, with all the talk of 'the bludgeonings of chance' and 'Horror of the shade,' but that they were not going to give up, they were 'the captain of (their) soul'

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

Pirrik grins at the ancient scroll and the initial thoughts regarding it, "Maybe he accidentally drank some of the hobgoblins' liquor and wrote this before his innards dissolved. Anyway, he didn't die suddenly - if indeed he died at all.
Pirrik then takes a look around the far corners of the room, making sure there are no hidden doors and inspecting whatever it is that has been glinting in the corners, opening up the lantern.

You find that you got the dimensions correct. And there are no other doors that anyone can detect. As to the glint of metal, you see several suits of armor, in pretty sad shape, in a rack on the far wall and a rack of weapons in equally sad shape against the other wall.

Tigerseye politely thanks Padraic for his translation of the scroll, and ponders its meaning for a moment. "This one does think it is strange, and perhaps significant that we find a scroll in ancient elvish in the middle of a now hobgoblin infested stronghold that was originally built by humans and dwarves. While this place itself looks to be roughly 500 years old... I am no expert by any means, but this scroll looks far, far older than that. Possibly even as old as 3,000 years, though I cannot be utterly certain of that. That makes this one wonder... wonder if perhaps this is not linked to the keep above, but to the ancient archway mentioned by the hob before he expired. That one mentioned that those that passed through it were changed, in mind, in body or both, perhaps the author was an elven or at least scholarly victim of this arch in millenia past."

He pauses there for a moment, staring at the scroll as if that would somehow impart greater understanding of this to him. "This one has some thoughts on this, strange and wild, probably not truth, but... The arch that the hob's Masters are trying to comprehend, what if in times past it was not random, but something that could be controlled by one who understood its workings? Or is it even random now or specific depending on what passes through. What if... it could be used to change an entire race? And the ones now interested in it may be the dro..."



Tigerseye seems slightly excited, as if he is simply enjoying the scholarly pursuit of an ancient riddle.

"Does anyone of this group happen to recall how far back the legends of the drow may be, how ancient their race is? For some reason, this one recalls that it may just be three millenia. I am a person of the scholarly bent, and, I rarely believe in coincidence"

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

Regarding Tigerseye's earlier request for the rat-jerky scone that Pirrik scorned, Silent gives it to him signing that it is his mother's recipie.

When the contents of the scroll is read, Silent stands with legs spread apart, arms akimbo, gesturing at the heavens at appropriate moments, clutching at his chest at others. Flametail will sit and watch Silent, tongue lolling out, until he is finished, then he'll rise like he is applauding and wag his tail. Silent will bow slowly, then get back to business.

While Tigerseye muses about the origins of the scroll and the drow themselves, Silent will keep watch but will shake his head "no" about the drow question. He'll turn to Flametail, has Flametail heard anything about drow? Or are they just another two-legger to wolves? If a wolf could shrug, Flametail would do so.

Elrohir says "I've always been told that the Drow became the way they are because they delved too deep into the underdark and, well, mated with the servants of the spider-goddess. But perhaps that is a tale used to scare children. If your right about them, Tigerseye, then perhaps they may be trying to find a way to transform others to increase their numbers, or perhaps looking for a way to alter their own make up so they can exist in light and dark."

"The stories I heard speak of a time 'long ago', but might be utter," Pirrik spits an Elvish syllable, "for all I really know. I figure any story about drow contains lies disseminated by the dark-elves themselves and propoganda by the more 'noble races'. The truth is probably far stranger."
Pirrik gently sets aside the chipped and pitted broadsword he'd been examining. He is about the suggest moving on when further examination of the room and its contents provides the following: The dimensions of the room are as you first determined. There are no other exits that you can detect. Most of the armor and weapons are rusted or otherwise useless except for the following:
1) A suit of ring mail - it looks to still be in very good condition, despite the layer of dust on it.
2) A shield, also in very good condition
3) A dagger, the hilt is in the shape of a silver stallon.
4) A Bastard sword


Silent grins (with a merry glint in his eye) at Pirrik as Tigerseye openly eats the scone in front of everyone. He then pantomies Morlan examing the items that do not seem destroyed by the ravages of time.
Morlan looks at what Silent is doing and says, "You want me to try these items? I'm afraid the sword would be much too large for me as would the armor and the shield. Wait, no, you want me to detect magic upon them? Splendid idea, Smart chap, that Silent. Doesn't say much but he gets the point across, eh?"

Morlan thinkgs for a moment, scratches his head and then chants and waves his hand. As expected, the dagger, sword, armor and shield glow briefly as his spell passes over them. Since it's a duration spell, he spins around to see if anything else is magical. The scroll with the poem glows as do the lanterns you picked up from the Hob lookout.

Elohir nods as Pirrik's commentsabout the Drow, "Many legends are based on a combination of myths, stories, and truth. The reality is often times somewhere in between."

Seeing the dagger, Elohir expresses interest in it and examines the handle and scabbard closely before sliding the dagger out to examine the blade.
As noted before, the handle appears to be in the shape of a stallion. The placement of the legs would make it difficult for a larger person to handle the blade. But an elf, dwarf, gnome or hobbit could weild it with ease. The blade itself, once removed from its scabbard, has elven and dwarven runes upon it. The elven runes read "Take courage."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
============

You make your way out of what appears to have been, at one time, an armory for the keep and head back east. You pass the hole that leads to the surface and glance at the natural light somewhat longingly. The corridor extends east about 20 feet before turning south. Shortly after the south turn, you see stairs leading down. Being no where else to go, you take the stairs. You find that they end in a blank wall.

Everything about this wall screams "Secret Door." Including the crude common letters scrawled on the wall, "Push here to open." After listening at the door and performing a standard check for traps, Pirrik pushes it open and waves you all through.

The cavarn you find yourselves in is vast...and dark. Your infravision doesn't begin to penetrate its depths. Still, the area nearest the door seems clear so you make your way west, following the natural wall of the cavern.

All goes well until Pirrik, in a loud voice, says "Now!"

Harsh light,piercing yet somehow casting more shadows than it should pins you. Beyond the light you see shadowy figures, figures that become clear. Their elven features twisted into cruel lines, their skins black as coal. And behind them, you see other figures, figures you don't want to focus on but your eyes seem hesitant to obey. Half drow and half spider, they scitter on many legs and glare at you with evil intent.

One of the drow, darkly beautiful in her jeweled armor and her cloak of shadows moves slightly forward from the rest and addresses Pirrik, "Is this all of them, slave?" Pirrik replies, "Oh my mistress, this is all as I promised when you captured me when I scouted ahead. I brought them to you as I promised. Am I not worthy of your mercy?"
As she turns away she says, "Where there any mercy in my heart, it would be yours, sweet slave." To the assembled drow and driders she says, "Take them. Perhaps one of them will provide the key to understanding the arch. If not, they will feed the babies."

In the blink of an eye, they are upon you.

In



The




Blink




Of




An




Eye



You



Realize




What



Day


of


the



year




this



is.






























April Fools day.

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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Tigerseye thoughtfully chews the scone, with an occasional, "hmm." He pauses for a moment to pick a rat tail out of his teeth, twirling it around in his fingers. "Not bad, not bad at all, especially for trail food, this one thinks it could have been better warm with butter though." He grins, "Or perhaps cheese would be more appropriate."

Tigerseye looks the weapons, and the now glowing scroll over with interest. "I have no need of any of these items, a new bow would have been nice, but as for the blades, I prefer my own sword. I will admit the dagger is tempting, but somewhat small for this one to grasp. This one does think that we may wish to use caution with these enchanted weapons though, they may have been left here for a reason... not all magics benefit the wielder... I have run into cursed artifacts before in my existence, they are not... pleasant. It is very, very interesting that the scroll itself is in fact enchanted as well, though it does support how it could have lasted for so long... this one definitely believes we should keep that scroll with us as well."

After studying the dagger further Elohirplaces it back into it's scabbard, and, if nobody objects, he begins to attach it to his belt. (Objections can be raised here retrocativly. We'll get back to that.)

Now, much of what I said in the earlier post was true, up until the point where you opened the door. So, yes, the corridor leads to stairs going down, and yes they dead-end in a secret door (secret from the other side) with crude common chalked on the non-secret side to remind readers of the fact.
But what happens when you open the secret door in THIS post is considerablly different than in the earlier post...

The secret door opens into another east-west corridor. This one is lit with torches. You are on the south wall. The corridor extends 10 feet to the west and ends in a door. There is a door directly opposite of you with a small barred window. The corridor extends east of you at least 60 feet. There are doors with barred windows on either side ever 15 feet.

From the door directly to the west of you, you hear a gruff voice say in common, "You boys no bringy me drinky-drinky, I no givee you formula for new magic juice called rum!" Then, in a softer voice, as if he were speaking to himself, "Disgusting savages. To reduce me to this state. If my arms were just a little longer, I'd wring me some necks for sure."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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I have a confession to make. I'm a comic-book junkie. The reason I bring that up is to help explain a term from comic-books: Retcon. It stands for Retroactive Continuity. What it means is when some event is inserted into the world's time-line and all events flow mostly naturally around that event.

Case in point here: Before you leave the abandoned armory room, Silent takes the ring mail, shield and bastard sword. Removing his armor and discarding his shield, he dons the magic armor and shield.

Second bit of retcon:
I had said:
The secret door opens into another east-west corridor. This one is lit with torches. You are on the south wall. The corridor extends 10 feet to the west and ends in a door. There is a door directly opposite of you with a small barred window. The corridor extends east of you at least 60 feet. There are doors with barred windows on either side ever 15 feet.

From the door directly to the west of you, you hear a gruff voice say in common, "You boys no bringy me drinky-drinky, I no givee you formula for new magic juice called rum!" Then, in a softer voice, as if he were speaking to himself, "Disgusting savages. To reduce me to this state. If my arms were just a little longer, I'd wring me some necks for sure."

I SHOULD have said that the voice came from the door nearest you to the east. Therefore, that's where the voice DID come from. The wonders of retroactive continuity!!! :D
(One of these days I should learn how to read a map, especially one I drew.)


Now, back to the present time:

You've come through the secret door and heard the gruff voice emanating from behind a door directly to the EAST.

Pirrik then whispers "Be ready. More brewers may be on the way."

If nothing comes through or sounds like it's going to come through the western door, Pirrik will perform his standard checks all the doors in this hallway starting with the western one. While he's at it, he'll peek through each of the barred windows.



No movement is detected in the corridor.
The door to the west, at the end of the corridor is locked. There are no windows in that door. It does not look like a complicated lock.

The other doors in the corridor are doors to prison cells. Most of these cells are unoccupied. There are two exceptions. The cell directly east of you (from which a voice issued) is occupied by a dwarf. THe other occupied cell contains an unmoving body, on the floor, facing away from the door.

The cells are 5 feet by 5 feet. They are not designed for comfort.

When Pirrik looks into the dwarf's cell, the dwarf calls out, "Yer not one of the stinkin' hobs. I never thought I'd be so happy to see an elf face in my life. Get me out, lad, if you please and we can check on his lordship over there."

[BabbageCliologic]

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GM POST
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When Pirrik looks into the dwarf's cell, the dwarf calls out, "Yer not one of the stinkin' hobs. I never thought I'd be so happy to see an elf face in my life. Get me out, lad, if you please and we can check on his lordship over there."
Pirrik has the following questions. The dwarf's answers may inspire more.
"Are you with the caravan that was attacked?"
"Doesn't all that facial hair itch?"
"How many hobs are around here?"
"Who's in the other cell?"
"Do you really know how to make rum?"
"What else can you tell us about your captors and this place?"
"What's that smell?"
After he's reminded a few more times, he'll get to actually opening the cell, but he won't stop asking questions. He'll also open the cell of the other captor and any others the party wants open.

The Dwarf supplies the following answers:
"Yes. Never seen anything like it. Hobs were organized, smart. They were prepared for us, just waiting for our wagon to round the bend when they caused a rockslide. Knocked out his lordship and his lordship's sister in the process. Took the rest of us without much trouble, I'm sorry to say. We were aiming for speed when we set out, didn't take along a lot of guards. Figured we could outrun trouble, the master did. Rest his spirit in the land of the gods."

"Right now it does. I haven't had anything close to a decent comb for the last however long I've been in this cell, thank you so much for reminding me." He begins scratching furiously at his chin beneath the beard.

"I don't know how many hobs there are. I never seen 'em all at once. I've got 3 or 4 of them that comes by to have me teach them distilling. I think that's why I'm still alive that and I puzzle the dragon crap outta the drow. I didn't seem to change in the slightest when they shoved me through their arch. But suddenly I could understand every word they said. 'Course, I wouldn't let on to that. I still played like their language was a bunch of hooey. Before you ask, I think there's only three drow here. 'Course, that may change. The boss-lady keeps talking about having to report back her progress or lack of it. That is when she lowers her self to talk to the two males she's got with her. One's a mage, the other a fighter. She's a cleric, of course. But I don't think she's as tough as she likes to make ya think she is. I've watched her when she does her biggest cleric spells. She don't chant the same way and the ring on her finger glows. I think it's a spell-storer and she can't have too much juice left in it."

"That would be his lordship, Ambassador from the elves to his majesty Grayhelm Hammerson of Mithraltir. His Lordship's name is some elven mish-mash, Turgon Tulcakelumë. I just call him lord TallCake, myself. It seems to amuse him. He's a prince himself or whatever rank you elves hold to with royalty. He ain't dead, neither. Least ways he wasn't a couple days ago when they took his sister. The dark one came for her. His lordship didn't much like it and he tried to stop them. But he's been outta spells for a while or doesn't have none in his memory or something like that. So they took her and he sent his what-ya-ma-call-it, asteroid form after to watch her. Said he would look like he was dead until someone shook him and said in high elvish "Awaken and take your freedom." He didn't figure no drow would say something like that."

"sure and I do know how to make rum. But as much as I'd love to sit drinking some with you, I think our time would be better spent getting me and his lordship outta these cells, don't ya think?"

Pirrik takes the hint and starts to work on the dwarf's cell door. It's a near thing, but he's able to unlock it after a few tense minutes. When the lock finally clicks, the dwarf staggers out of his cell and puts his hands on Pirrik's shoulders (or as high as he can reach) and says, "Lad, you've got my gratitude and my respect. I am called Bazgrim Delnore, but you can call me Baz."
Pirrik then goes to work on Lord Tallcake's cell. This one proves even harder for him. Minutes tick by before you finally hear the click of the lock. A sweat-drenched Pirrik finally stands up and opens the door.

By the way, a quick check of the other cells shows them empty. There is a closed door to the west, but Baz says that's the way to the hob quarters and beyond, to where the Drow are.

Tigersye politely introduces himself to Baz, and then glances over to where the elf prince lays. "Perhaps we should move Lord, ahem, "Tallcake" back into the hidden rooms, that way, we are somewhat more protected against surprise while we awaken him. Not to mention, we don't know how noisy he is going to be when he awakes, we have no idea what he has seen. I would also recommend that Pirrik, Padraic and Baz be well in his sight when the trigger phrase is used, it would be best if he woke to faces that would be more familiar to him. Hopefully he will be able to tell us more of what lies beyond, if there are others still left to in fact rescue, and perhaps, some more about that archway."


Since this seems like a good idea, I'll just assume everyone goes along with it. Otherwise, we can "retcon" it later

Tigerseye then quietly asks the following with barely a trace of his usual accent "Sir Bazgrim Delnore, this one has heard some tales of the effects of the archway from captured hobgoblins, it gave you the ability to comprehend their speech, what other effects have you observed this fell artifact inflict? Also, do you know of the fate of any of the other captives, we were told that some of those who were not slain were sent... elsewhere."

"Most of what I know about that arch, I know from the hobs and they aren't exactly the most honest creatures that ever walked the face of the planet" Baz says. "I do know that whenever someone is passed through the arch, the drow are always ready with their crossbows and their magic to slay what comes out the other side. It's a strange device, that's for sure. There's words all over it in the ancient elven tongue, I can read them since I went through. I don't think there's any language I can't read now. But they are all in a jumble. The drow try to arrange them in some sort of order, but they are just guessing. They call the thing 'The Chaos Stone' and when they say it, it's like that's supposed to mean something, you know? The hobs said that when they passed my caravan master through it, he came out the other side much bigger, like a small giant. But he fell before their poison darts and their magic. The hobs say the drow sent some of them through it but stopped that because it was obvious to them that they had no control over what happened to the hobs and that it was too dangerous not knowing. The way I see it, if I came out and the only change was my knowledge of languages, there's no telling what it could have imparted to others."


So, was there anything anyone wanted to do before you tried to wake up the sleeping elf? He doesn't seem quite dead, by the way. He takes about one breath every 15 minutes or so. It's faint, but you can see it if you try.