Realms of the OSR

Snarkscorn let us go, but confiscated my heavy shield and the religious relics we had acquired from the abbey. We needed the money from selling those; the crookhorns won't do anything with them except desecrate them. St Clewd means nothing to me, but the money would have. He also claimed a prize from each of us, and offered to return it if we completed a task. There would be gold in it for us as well, 1000gp each. But the mission was to kidnap a local noble, Lady Harold, and bring her to his camp alive. None of us were enthusiastic about that, but perhaps we can find a way to double-cross the crookhorns.

The sailors wanted no part of any plan that involved fighting, once they heard there were a dozen crookhorns on the bridge. We had the captain drop us off on the east bank and proceed upriver in his barge. Our new plan was to find the path back to the crookhorn camp and set up an ambush for the leader when he returned. While traveling back to his camp, he would presumably leave some of his guards by the bridge, and be more vulnerable. I was able to find their trail and set the group up in a safe spot to await the targets.

Something followed u-Heury and I up the stairs. I still cannot name it. It was a cloud with tentacles, and ominous crackles of lightning, like a storm cloud only smaller and much closer. Plus the tentacles.

We investigated the skeleton found at the bottom of the tower where Violet, Lady Harrowmore's daughter, had been abducted from. It was badly damaged, perhaps from a fall. A dosh of embalmer's whiskey made it talk; it admitted to abducting Violet on the orders of Mister Rag-n-Bones. It claimed the girl had been taken to "the abbey". I looked for tracks and found little, just a hint or two of something heading southwest. The lady suggested there were old religious buildings near a river to the southwest of her domain, which could be the abbey it referred to. We decided to travel there to look into it.

I woke to Frisky pulling a massive thorn bramble out of my throat. That hurt, but everything else felt better. Our surroundings had changed completely, so I surmised I had been knocked unconscious and my companions had dragged me to safety. A very close call. I thought it over carefully and decided I was done for the moment; learning the spell would be beyond my ability for some time, and I had almost died. We would need to deal with the guardians somehow, and then I would need to return -- perhaps years later -- to learn the spell.

We told Aspith about the ghost at the lake, who is known as the Phantom of the Lake. Aspith reacted strongly to the mention of the Druune, who wear tall black robes with cowled holds, smelling of mold; Aspith believes the Phantom is likely a divine figure, trapped by the Druune to guard the place. The Phantom is likely associated with a saint from the local church, Saint Waylani, in Brackenwood. Brackenwold is the capital of the area, and Mr Underhill runs an inn that Aspith recommends. We learned about the difference between craghorns (bad, diseased) and brilleaghs (good).

We found some langswith herbs that Nara claimed would cure the strange disease, burned the bodies, then spent the night at a camp. In the morning, Sanfire had recovered from immediate danger. He headed back to Prigswort to convalesce on his own. We discussed other possibilities. Apparantly there's a ghostly lady in the lake at a place called Gorthstone insisting that the staff of the apostle must be restored. Gorthstone itself is a black obelisk in the middle of a circular, placid pool of water.

Sanford and I took in an exquisite dinner at Raptallen's in company with Aspith Raptallen, the proprietor. We discussed matters of the fae with the lady Aspith, who told us of the nag-lord to the north and his goat-men threatening Prigswort. We told her about the hole in the oak with the cannibal goat-men, and our adventures near black mirror lake with Lady Ygraine. Aspith also mentioned the lady Harrowmoor, who normally trtaveled regularly to Prigswort, but had not been seen in some time. Aspith requested we take her card to Harrowmoor keep, also to the north, and make inquiries as when Harrowmoor would next return to Prigswort. She promised us a month's lodging for us and our companions in return for this favor.

I was wandering the Dolmenwood trying to get as far away from vengeful vampires as I could when two new members of the Glorious Blades asked for my help dealing with a carrion worm. Nara was a barbarian of some kind, and she had a friend with healing magic that could cure paralysis. The halfling Sanford was also along. They had been hired by an alchemist to collect the worm tentacles as ingredients. Those things are dangerous, but I had seen one before, so I might be able to offer useful information. And money to fund my magic studies (and lifestyle) never hurts. We left Prigswort and Nara found a nest of worms.

As we waited for a passing person to bring the canoe, Ygnas convinced one of the supplicants to devotre his life to St Anya instead of giving up everything to become a candle. He went off to devote his life to St Anya. The rest of us split up what proceeds we had gathered and returned to our own affairs for some time. The tower of abraxus would have to wait.

When Pusha came running out of the southern corridor yelling about a cleric with a corpse crawler for a pet, we decided the better part of valor was to retreat and possibly come back later. Those crawlers are no joke; we heard about them from Feverborne when he was going after the sewer rats. And getting caught between the cleric and the trogolodytes likely already on their way would have been very difficult to escape.

Feverborne called me in to help with selling three books in elvish the group had recovered some time ago and wanted to read before deciding whether or not to sell. I read a chapter from each, and decided two of them were worth reading more thoroughly. Worlds Beyond described alternative planes and dimensions, and Libraries of the Ancients was all about libraries and why elven libraries were better than all the others. Since some of the Glorious Blades have repoorted strange things happening in libraries, there might be some useful information. The third, Sense of the Beyond, was a fictional account of a romance with a ghost. That one we sold. I'll read the other two over the next few days.

There were three trogolodytes, one for me, one for Punchman, and one for Pusha. Verminbane sliced mine in half deftly; I took only a small scratch in return. The others did not fare as well, both falling to their opponents quickly. Morin, however, struck from the shadows and killed one. The remaining creature fled down the ladder into what I assumed was their hideous larder of rotting flesh. Trusting Morin to hold the lantern and watch over our friends, I followed the creature down the ladder, hoping to slay it before it could find reinforcements. My luck was no longer with me, however, and the thing escaped. A quick glance around showed a circular chamber filled with carrion, larger than expected. I swiftly ascended the ladder to help revive my friends, and by the time I finished -- healing Pusha through Clocea's grace -- there were more trogolodytes climbing up out of the pit.

We spoke with Bryce and Tristan, getting directions to the place their friend went missing. I took the opportunity to buy a bullseye lantern and oil, hoping that the longer range would help our explorations, and the ability to close the lantern to shut off the light would help us avoid notice.

The amulet and potion turned out to be magical under Pish's examination, the rest did not. We estimated the value of the dagger at 1500gp, but determined that no one is Eastdale would want to buy such a thing after Retep the antiquities dealer lowballed us. We determined that the best chance to get full value was to travel to a larger city, either Threshold or Prigswort, and determined to go to Threshold as I had other business there. We took a caravan to Threshold and managed to sell the dagger for 2000gp, with Nifty claiming the magical amulet for "testing".

Somehow we managed to escape the supernatural pull of the henge, and decided it was time for a break from adventure after that close call.

We traveled further towards the southwest, but ended up walking in circles. I made the best of it and hunted up a small fox. There wasn't enough left for a hat.

We went to the Wrinkled Medley to further the investigation into Mr. Klepp. My finely tailored weatherproof cloak and an outlandish haircut got me in past the generally hoity-toity doorman. The bard Hugh was auditioning for a musical act of some time, and the rest of us were tagging along to get information

I'm going to need some more parchment and twine to properly chronicle all these clues- man this party needed an elf. It seems these folks have just been holding onto a mysterious letter- that they didn't even open?! It seems they got it with a bag of gems from a (deceased?) courier and didn't realize the real treasure is the written word, and the secrets it can tell us. There was the symbol of the Cobbsworth brewery. (you don't need a 17 int to be curious, but it helps) Obviously, we had to open it, which I did with only a slight injury. I did end up with a -1 to hand stuff from that- might that be enough to discourage hooking me up with his racist son?

After a misspent youth as a seafarer on some, let's say, less than reputable vessels, I was ready to get my land-legs back under me and spend some time doing some good in the world. I'd traveled about as far inland as I could stand (I still miss the smell of the salty sea-air, and can hardly sleep without the lapping of the waves against the boat) and found myself in a township called Prigswort. A sizable city, bigger than most of the port cities I'd spent time in, though not as big as the occasional coastal capital city. The whole place was buzzing with activity, as I seemed to arrive on some sort of festival day. I was low on funds and food, and hoping to find a way to make some gold appear in my pockets. A couple of nights in an inn where I could play for some locals for some spending cash and maybe a night in a cozy bed would be a good start, but I was thinking I'd need a bigger stake to breathe easy and figure out my next move. One of the things my minstrel instructors did manage to drill into my head was that if you were looking for work you could do worse than to find something like the Gray Company and ask about adventuring jobs, so the first thing I did was figure out where a Gray Company headquarters was in town and head directly there. There was a man there sitting at a table just inside the door. Bald, hair sticking out of his ears, nose like a bulb of garlic, he gave no credence to my existence, despite my saying hello, good morning, and excuse me, in that order. It was like whatever he was looking at on the piece of paper he had in front of him had transfixed him. Or he'd fallen asleep. I took the lute from my back and tried playing a tune. An ascending arpeggio from C-minor up got me nowhere. A quick double-time through a classic sea shanty also brought no attention my way. Finally, practically flummoxed, I pulled my hands together, tightening them on the strings, and let out a sustained discordant note that got him to jerk his head up and snort through his nose. He looked me over, leather jerkin, all-weather poncho, wild brown hair and unshaven face and frowned. "What do you want?" he asked in a voice as gruff as a billy goat's. "I'm looking for work." "Isn't everyone?" I didn't know whether everyone was or not so I simply stared back at him. After a few seconds he said, "We don't book musicians, kid." "I'm not looking for-" "There's a few inns up and down the main street, there's, uh-" "I'm looking for something more interesting than that." He looked me over again. I turned slightly so he could see the sword strapped to my thigh, and the quiver of arrows on my back. He squinted at me and said, "Hm." A woman came dancing from somewhere in the back, slightly older and said, "Are you bothering this young man?" It took me a moment to realize she wasn't talking to me, but to the man at the table. "I've come looking for work." I said. "And you'll have it." She answered back. "Try the Clashed Antler." "Is that an Inn?" I asked, crestfallen. "Yes." She said, in a lilting voice. "I'm not looking for music work." I said. "Nor should you. But there's a group of adventurer's staying there called the Glorious Blades. They may have some work for you. And if not, take this." She shoved a crumpled piece of parchment into my hand. "It's not much but it's a start. Now go. Go on. I've got to get this one back to being useful." She looked into the man's eyes, he'd fallen asleep again. As I left the Gray Company's office I heard her shouting, "Coffee! You need coffee!"

Somehow a bunch of fresh faces from the Glorious Blades joined us out here. How they found us I have no idea. Pretty sure I don't know where I am at this point. But Rowen must have had something to do with it, since she wandered out of town muttering about ley lines about the same time. I let her go without comment. I don't need ley lines, I need my arm fixed. I did ask Kiba if she brought my wardogs from camp. This was supposed to be a quick excursion to help u-Heury with his winter princess before a quick trip back to base to figure out a plan for the hag. Somehow we skipped the back to base part. She denied having the dogs. Oh well. They might have come in handy.

The "not that simple" part started when Rowen burst through the door. We explained what was happening with the mossy dwarf, and trekked back to Blackeswell, passing a strange black iron cauldron on the way. Someone had hidden it next to a wolf's den. When we woke up in the morning, it had moved closer to me, apparently by itself. Creepy.

u-Heury finally made his wish: "I wish for my beautiful princess, who remains loyal to me through time, to come to me, riding on her mammoth when it is time to form my kingdom." The kid spent a mighty long time thinking to come up with that. He seems to think he deserves a kingdom, a beautiful princess, and a mammoth. The loyal bit was an interesting twist, and I'm curious how tall his princess and her mammoth will be seeing as he was about 6 inches tall when he made the wish. That part, at least, wore off eventually.

When the ancient fortuneteller in Cloacina's congregation told me I had to leave right away to save my friends, I didn't ask many questions. She said to go to the manse of the lady Ygraine, near Westkeep, and I was familiar with the place. More, I knew Bern had been sniffing around that area -- probably literally, he's as much beast as man -- in search of a cure for his withered arm. So I set off immediately on my trusty horse Antipesto.

Shortly before we left the rebel camp, a young man named Gareth asked to join our group. He felt that leaving in our company might give him a better chance of escaping whatever curse held Meagre's Reach in thrall. We agreed, having no real reason not to allow it, and set off at dawn. Despite the dire warnings and Gareth's presence, we had no problem departing the area, and made our way to the manse of Ygraine. After a brief discussion, and observing a slow approach of swan boats carrying people we presumed to be guests, we chose to approach and find out what we could.

We didn't make it back tomorrow, or the next day. We dragged our coin, poorly hidden, past a traveling caravan; we paid extortion money to a gargoyle with two mossy statues; we suffered through blood rain and invisible hail and the worst cold I've ever had. We did finally make it to town, where absolutely everyone wanted to know what we had in the urns.

Rather than return to town immediately, we investigated some of the nearby barrows. While we walked, Rowen had the bright idea to put on the wight-making necklace we found in order to "make sure we kept her safe". I'm not sure where she got this obviously bad idea but she should stop listening to them.

We made our way back to Thatchem on birdback. The wizards of matwoob were willing to buy what we managed to recover, and expressed some dismay at our description of the current occupants of "their" tower. They did offer us a magical staff that would enable us to climb to the floating island via a stairway to heaven for future trips. Elvinia agreed to take charge of that on behalf of the group.

I pulled myself to the top of the plateau just as Seleana was promising the ravens we had brought food. Just in time, too; one of them had given the druid a nasty peck on the shoulder that nearly tore her arm off. I laid the seed out according to the directions, while Selaena made silly caw caw noises. I can't criticize too much, I'll be doing the same thing later. They ate, and 7 of the ravens seemed amenable to becoming our companions. Which was good, as two new adventurers had joined the knight Stavros at the bottom of the cliff. Selaena and I struck a holy bargain of healing, and Denara smiled upon it enough to bless u-Heury for bravely keeping between the druid and the ravens.

A note from Feverborne brought me to Thatchem. He has been flirting with the new goddess of clensing lately, and frankly it seems to be good for him. I sense a new confidence and strength of will in his manner, though the world seeks to test his faith. While Cloacina is clearly no match for the significance of Denara, even a bathhouse must engage in commerce. Mmhmm. At any rate he had found mention of the floating tower my church had requested I investigate some time ago. Important note: this tower floats on air, the previous tower floats on water.

We found Thatchem to be very inviting. Their local temple even has a small shrine for the lesser known divinities. I made an appointment with the local priest (following the ritual clensing rites) and had a symbol of Cloacina the Clenser added, so those of my faith would have a place to express their veneration. It's small, but a beginning.

I discussed the matter of what to do next with Forrest, and we decided to explore to the north where Verminbane and Cloacina sensed a threat. A town there known as Thatchem was reputed to be only a few miles away from the danger, so we planned to buy horses and scout the road there. Forrest agreed to lend me Verminbane for a week - whatever I chose to do with the blade during that time. Scouting out the threat that Cloacina sensed was the best use of that time, I felt, so we spent a day packing and preparing and then set off. Rowen and Ygnas joined us for the trip, Kiba staying behind to train Kiki.

The dwarves melted down the Squeeblade while I watched, after which the high priest thanked me for bringing it to him and conveyed an invitation to see the dwarven king after lunch. I accepted, and arranged to meet with Hammerick on the way out. Hammerick agreed to find Mindy a safe home with a dog just like Kiki.

u-Heury and Kiba chose to accompany me to the dwarven town of Hamelet to see the Squeeblade destroyed. This actually caused problems. Hammerick the dwarf refused to allow Kiba's dog to ride in the carriage, which offended her. u-Heury's uncivilized nature presented a similar problem. We did eventually resolve the problem by using two separate carriages.

With my soul in a better place and a fresh herbal cleanse, it was time to seek out Forrest and my sword. He was surprisingly eassy to find, having set up a temple to Cloacina in the poor district. He actually seemed sincere, and after we had conversations about the matter, agreed that if the sword found me worthy, he would pass it over to me and focus on administering the church he had founded to spread Cloacina's glory. The sword Verminbane agreed to try it, feeling there was still a need for Cloacina's cause to be advanced in the world, over and above her newly founded church.

We made our way from the temple of Doghma to the Happy Cow Inn, bumping into Sanfire in the process. The halfling offered to join us for the evening, even rented a room, but left to use the outhouse early in the evening. He didn't return. Rowen and Lyrian were drunk, so I loaned them spikes for their door and went to check on the halfing. I didn't find the halfling, but someone else was there. He claimed not to have seen any halflings. I puttered around long enough for Sanfire to make some sort of noise if he was being held captive in the outhouse. Nothing. If he was in there, it was consensual. Or he was unconscious. But I wasn't going to just bust in without something. What if there was no halfing there? I returned to the rooms, finding Lyrian and Rowen still drinking, but only Rowen actuallu drunk. I stayed the night in their room and we all traded watches.

Gradually, very gradually, we regained movement. When most of us had recovered, we moved to the southern room, where Thomas had befriended a kobold. We set the kobold to digging out a new sewer entrance from that room and explored a little to the east, finding a watery area we weren't ready to explore further. It might still connect to the temple room to the north, but not that we could see from the shore. We also managed to search Squee's body, finding his short sword (which I immediately dubbed Squeeblade). It looked to be of dwarven make, with an octagonal hilt. I'll have it checked for magic later.

I slew the wounded rat I was facing with one swift blow, but the big fucker stepped in to take it's place. I gave him as nasty cut with my Yggian borrowed blade, taking a blow in return that destroyed my shield. Kiba stayed long enough to pull some spikes from my backpack to secure the southern door, but then fled. That rat bitch Vee joined the big rat, waving some sort of censor filled with toxic gas. Little does she know my pinkie ring from the sauhaugin protects my sense of smell; I f0ought on, undeterred. She tried a spell, but I shook it off and struck her in return, another solid blow. She fled, and another wererat joined Burly. That one died too.

With purses fattened by wererat gold, we set our plans in motion. Ygnas held a party announcing her vacation to Candletown or some such place, honoring her bargain with the rats but leaving the gold they paid her with us. Rowen did the same with a different destination. Pluck was still detained. Old friend Lyrian and new friend Kiba with her dog Kiki joined us from the Glorious Blades. Rumor has it Kiki used to run a delivery service. We hired on several new mercenaries, including a wizard Golson, and shared out silver daggers among them all. One got to borrow my longbow and 10 silver arrows. Another got 10 silver bolts for his crossbow. We spent the night at an inn. This was all very expensive, but it was rat gold buying it.

Joined by Rowen, Clubeck Pluck, Ygnas, and our three bandits, we descended once more into the sewers. I consulted Oscar's notes and set the valves to drain the swamp around the base of Cloacina's shrine. I would say vows before her image, and hope for her blessing to bring with me against the rats.

We explored the sewer systems thoroughly, looking for any changes from the previously unknown configuration, but found nothing changed in the sewer layout. Except, possibly, the cow-eating tentacle monster was gone. We did happen upon two wererats carrying a young man names Giles (clearly destined for a life of vampire hunting) into the sewers. He called out for help, and we arrayed for battle. But our new friend Clubeck cast some sort of spell to knock them out without a real fight. We woke up Giles and tied up the wererats thoroughly, briefly discussing how to handle them. With the sewer rats watching the discussion was brief; we took them back to the surface and to the temple of Dogma.

Free! I'm finally free of that damned ooze! (Probably).

We set off towards Threshold, planning to cut through the forest to make better time. Our plan was foiled by the mold, or pudding, or ooze, or slime, or whatever it was. It simply moves slowly. So slowly that it took days to travel a few miles. And every single day was a nervewracking exercise in wondering if the spell had worn off yet, not to mention watching it all night to make sure it didn't eat Rowen, Sanfire, or Stria. The magic protects me, not my companions, apparently.

Seasons passed. I had greenleaf tea with Selaena on the regular, after a chance meeting in the woods outside Eastdale. She was talking to the farm cows, which I found charmingly naive. (What could they possibly say that would be interesting?) Turns out they actually did have something interesting, complaining about giant frogs eating their friends. Maybe we will look into that later.

Ygnas got bored and left to pursue her newfound obsession with the language of the fire creatures. She contacted a friend of hers, a druid named Selaena, to help us out. Selaena was not impressed with any of us. Also, it turns out the bugbears are actually hobgoblins.

Me and Barbarian Boy whispered together, trying to figure out how to get Feverborne out. Or whether to leave him there. Ultimately, we decided to try to get him out, but we couldn't see any way to get his gear from by the leader's tent. Definitely not the sword, which was strapped to the lead centaur. The kid can be sneaky. I wasn't willing to take off my armor and try to sneak into the camp to get the gear, risking getting attacked without my armor on. And the timing would be tricky. Someone could notice the gear gone before Feverborne was freed, and vice versa.

We made out way to the wagon, which had of course been pilfered. Finally, we camped. I healed Feverborne. Our supplies in the wagon now gone along with one of the mules, we decided to head south to the closest town for supplies. After more rest and prayers and healing along the way, we were all almost as healthy as we were going to get. We had a disturbing day during the trip huddled in my tent under both tarps, waiting out acid rain. I prayed during the whole thing, because it wasn't natural, but I had a niggling feeling Zuul was testing me, and I shouldn't have cowered away from it.

We fought the ghoul, but the fae blade couldn't touch it, and I couldn't attack anything else -- it was like I was possessed, even though I kept my head for the first minute or two. I'm getting more and more reluctant to draw that damn magic sword, especially since it couldn't even hit the damn thing I was so focused on. The sword just passed right through despite perfect form. It was the most frustrating fight of my life, as the thing's summoned minions choked me with their boney fingers. Last time I go with the kid on one of his personal quests, I swear. Ygnas managed to scare off the first three undead minions, which probably saved our lives, but the ghoul struck her down and summoned three more right away. At least they weren't all attacking us at once.

(Interlude)

Through rain, through mist, through flood and foul weather, we finally made our way to Threshold. U-heary and I camped outside while Stria went to find Basil, and we arranged to meet at the gate in case the guards had awkward questions about our exotic zoo animal. They did, but after taking our names (I gave my real name, and my companions did not) and paying taxes, they let the creature into the city and into Basil's hands. I was very careful to describe it only as an exotic beast, so I was completely truthful. If the guards wrote down that we brought in a panther, well, that's not on me. And if a gibbering mouther escapes into the sewers, I won't be blamed, because I brought in a panther according to the official records. Bureaucracy is a wonderful thing when you know how to use it.

Before we could use the entrance we found, a crazed halfling called to us from the other side of the moat wanting a boat ride. We brought him over to the island once we realized it was Sanfire, a fellow member of the Glorious Blades And Hammer. We descended into the area below the floating tower.

Of course, as soon as we opened the east door, we were attacked by giant rats driven by a (presumed) wererat with a set of pipes. We fought them off at the cost of all but one of the hirelings; I was out of spells, the two new folks from the Gray Company were badly hurt, and there were more rats on the other side of the door and a wererat we hadn't even seen yet. Going to mark this one up as a failure; too wounded to continue with a reasonable chance of success. Why Stria and u-Huery ditched me in this sewer I have no idea, but their replacements lack a lot in the toughness department and numbers just aren't helping. That said, we did clear out quite a few rats. Attrition will have an effect on the enemy too.

A strange man named Roger joined us in the sewers. He seems pleasant enough, and a fine warrior, albeit short a few of his marbles. We told him of our plans for the crocodile and he was in favor.

So it turns out the knights were in fact bandits; they demanded a toll of three gold each to cross their ford. Honestly, I never knew trolls could be knighted, nor fit into a suit of heavy armor. They complained about barbarian attacks in the area, and questioned u-Heury closely, but I vouched for the boy and he was not of the same tribe causing the problems. They let us pass without issue once the toll was paid.

Go to Threshold, they said. Bring your wagon, they said. It'll be fun, they said.

I write once more with a heavy heart. The dwarf Girm, accompanied by friends Stria and u-Heury, brought me the ashes of Denara's paladin Frederick. I knew Frederick but little; we rarely adventured together, fearing that two servants of Denara in close proximity would be too much risk of an irrepairable loss to our goal of founding a temple in this region. I'm inforemed those who knew him better referred to him as "The Apocalypse", and he certainly lived up to his name, if the tale Girm told is even a little bit true. And the dwarf has the fire of some kind of passion in his eyes when he talks about Frederick.

My plan worked! I took off my armor, lay down my weapons, and armed only with two vials of holy water, snuck up on the ghouls as they feasted on the (relatively) fresh corpse of one of our guards. Invoking Denara, I threw the vial and hit one of them right between the eyes! It screamed and gave chase. I ran all the way back to the rest of the group, who had set up an ambush around the teleporting rug. At least three of them followed me, but I was faster. I made it all the way back to the rest of the group, who waited with missile weapons. I jumped over the little table we had set up, only stumbling a little, and the ghouls ran into a hail of arrows -- and, after a moment, my second vial of holy water. Another deadly throw to the face of the enemy! The ghouls who followed me fell, save one who stepped on the carpet. No doubt that one will reappear at the worst possible time.

We headed north, finding another beach along the underground river. This one had a gnome tending fish traps. He said there are big lizards that take a tithe of his fish catch just to the east of his Beach, and we saw them for ourselves. Probably basilisks because they have weird swirly eyes. Ogbond the gnome introduced us to Grim, another gnome, who promised a 159gp gem if we killed two basilisks and a treasure map if we got all four.

We discussed whether to return to town immediately or proceed northwest to investigate the strange pointing, ectoplasmic hand that Ygnas had reported. I believe she reported something similar in the hollow oak, pointing in roughly the same direction. I wonder if they were the same entity trying to communicate with her, or if she is simply hallucinating. As far as I know, Zuul has no doctrine on recreational use of hallucinogens, neither for nor against.

When I saw that thing with too many mouths behind the secret door, there was only one thing to do. I braced myself to resist it's gurgling and slammed the door shut, then took a good look around me.

I spent the off season profitably poisoning farmers who had mistreated their wives. Bern said he had a lead to possible profit, so I tagged along with him after we decided there was no emergency requiring us to look into acquaintances missing behind a mysterious door in the library. We hired a naive fighter named Bran for the trip. He got off on the wrong foot with me by insisting on 3 gold a day as his fee, just because he didn't like the look of us.

Met a new feller today. Short and stocky, grunted a lot. Asked his name, he grunted. Asked how he got 'ere, he grunted. Ask where he wanted to go, he grunted. Asked if he wanted ya pay me ta guide him into the forest and find treasure and kill monsters. You guessed it, he grunted, so off we went.

So we decided to stop sniffing around doors and start opening them.

After my brief foray into the world of the adventurer, the rest of the year seemed to just fly by. I had much to learn from the near death experience at the fangs of a two-headed snake, and indeed spent many days and nights in contemplation, filing form after form with the goddess Denara seeking a boon of her wisdom. Eventually I received her insight; I must work on a series of stretching exercises every day, to improve the flexibility and strength of my lame leg; it will likely always be a weakness, but even a little improvement could save my life. I was diligent and meticulous, every day filing form 47a ("Report of Daily Exercise For Physical Therapy"). The goddess approved, and blessed me with improved range of motion by 15 degrees in the knee and ankle. I shall be better able to duck in the future. Praise be to the lady of letters!

After spending the night camped in a secret room, we took stock of our gains and losses and decided it was time to return to town and reprovision. Having scouted the ruins (and more importantly the path to and from) we could plan more effectively for our next expedition, and with more funds to boot. Buying a mule to carry provisions for example. Though I hear rumors of a mule thief in town lately..

North of the portcullis were two doors, both closed. We listened and they were both silent as well. Opening the one to the north revealed a closet full of skeletons; someone's family has a lot of dark secrets. Well, actually zombies. But I couldn't resist the turn of phrase. There were about 6 of them but they didn't move when we opened the door. Huh.

We broke camp after a night of bitter cold at the edge of a field of strange black sand. It seems the rumors of an ancient magical disaster there are true. That, or it's just black sand. u-Heury threw a fit when it was time to go in, and refused. He was packing his bags to head back to Eastdale. I wasn't having it; it would be desertion in the face of the enemy and I said so to his face. He didn't care. (Neither would I, if it's the smart thing to do, but this is just sand and we supposedly make a living doing this).

After the pink slime disaster, we decided it was time to head back to town. We had found some items of value and quite frankly we were all a bit shook up by seeing one of our compatriots have his face eaten. Not to mention the ordeal of puzzle-solving overnight from the fisher king. But our first stop was to fatten our purses, so we headed to Retep's antiquities... But only after checking them ourselves, of course.

I gave Ahnjela a resounding slap across the face with my gauntlet, and it seemed to sober her up. But it didn't make the skeletons any more inclined to let us pass. We did establish that they only guarded two of the three doors in the room, leaving the middle door free if we wanted to go that way. We also established that pink would help us kill green if we wanted to go through the green door, but pink skellie is a mean bastard and I would hate to trust his word. We agreed to examine the other doors before provoking the skeletons.

When u-Heury was finished playing doctor with himself, we decided to clear out the two fishy folk playing handsy behind the door before going deeper into the cave system. We set up an ambush outside the door while u-Heury taunted them and tried to get them to come out. It didn't go well. I continue to prefer a more aggressive approach to take advantage of surprise. We should be listening at doors and kicking them down, then swarming inside to take advantage of surprise. No intelligent creature will walk right into the formations u-Heury sets up. Even if they are effective should the fisher-village idiot stumble into one.

We managed to break Ahnjela out of the weird trance she was in by dragging her away from the crystals. She woke up and didn't seem to recognize us, but after about ten minutes she was no more (or less) paranoid than usual. No doubt she'll murder us all in our sleep later.

I met some new adventurers today. Seems one of St Ygg's bunch had a vision or something and realized they were stuck in the wilderness, needing help, or maybe just an infusion of courage. I'm a fighting man and got no lack of that, so off I went.

I resume writing after a very long day of events both chilling and deadly!

We started where we left off -- sitting in a wagon full of offal, plus a crate of iron ingots marked with the mark of the Silver Citadel. We had just reclaimed it from a band of orcs outside their cave (without actually dealing with the orcs), and then fleeing. The horse was exhausted, as were we, but we chose to press on back to Eastdale. We were delayed by the need to bypass round a field of some reddish flowers. The horse didn't want anything to do with the field and we chose to defer to it's animal cunning.

Ten of us and a rented mule set out to discover what befell a missing caravan. The local church leadership believed the caravan had been raided by orcs. Our task was to find out what happened, recover the cargo if possible, save the men if possible, and destroy whoever was responsible for the attack, presuming there was one.