Session III
The cast:
- “Poor Unser” Unser, Elvish Spellsword: probably an alcoholic
- “Gaz” “Gazebo” Gazorpazorpfield, Dwarven Craftpriest
- Sinbad, Venturer: novice gambling addict
- Borgnar, Mystic: total straight edge
- Gnarrr, Thrassian Gladiator: vicious, uncouth, and ready to party
- Aladdin, Elvish Nightblade: definitely a lightweight
Our heroes were spread between the keep Türos Tem and the nearby city of Cyfaraun. In the former, Sinbad lay recovering from a poisonous spider's bite. In the latter, Unser, Borgnar, Gnarrr, and Aladdin had been crushed to discover that their dear friend The Good Doctor Senor Foggy would never be restored to life. Having until just recently been very dead, Borgnar needed some time to recover. As such, Unser, Gnarrr, and Aladdin found themselves flush with an excess of both time and loot. It was thus time for some casually excessive revelry and debauchery. When the heroes ended their long sequence of benders some two weeks later, they discovered that they had at some point in the interim made the acquaintance of a dwarvish priest with an inexplicably long name. This Gazorpazorpfield and Unser became fast friends. Nursing hangovers together, the two discovered that they had, whilst under the influence, funded construction of a school for the underprivileged urban youth of Cyfaraun.
Gaz hailed from the nearby dwarvish enclave of Azen Radokh. He had fled his ancestral home because it had recently come under siege by a dreadful army of giants. Having had difficulty fighting mere kobolds and goblins, the adventurers vowed to stay far, far away from Azen Radokh. Gaz assented gladly to this decision.
Their numbers and morale restored, the five companions returned to Türos Tem. There they found Sinbad, looking rather more attenuated than he had when they had left for Cyfaraun. It turned out that the venturer had begun his stay in the keep's infirmary with only fifty-nine copper pieces to his name. To make ends meet, he had been gambling excessively with the local soldiery, and the meager profits had barely covered his sustenance. He had made a discovery, though: some years back the Borderlands had experienced an earthquake, and this earthquake had just preceded the increase in beastman attacks. The temple they had discovered in the Viaspen had been enclosed by a cracked black granite dome. So perhaps the earthquake sundered the temple's dome and allowed its malicious inhabitants to lay waste to the surrounding area.
Wondering what dark evils such a dome must have been put in place to imprison, the adventurers once again traversed the Viaspen Forest and arrived at the mysterious temple. The temple's factional dynamics had undergone significant change since their last visit. By the entrance where once lazy kobolds could be found now stood two fierce brigands. From these brigands, the adventurers learned that Drusus had expanded his power to take advantage of the kobold's removal. He was now perhaps the premier power in the temple. Also in this confusion, the hobgoblins had moved to eliminate their goblin brethren in a bloody struggle.
The natural course of action seemed to be to engineer the mutual destruction of the brigands and the hobgoblins. Hoping to manage just that, the adventurers continued their delving. In a more frequently traveled portion of the temple, they encountered and defeated two orcish patrols in rapid succession. The first demanded a toll of 140 gold pieces to avoid a fight. Sinbad took a gamble and threw the orcs a pouch with 14 copper, that being all he had. Perhaps the orcs would be not think to count their new earnings. If his goal had been to start a fight, he succeeded admirably. In the second encounter, a lucky orcish spear thrust severed one of Gaz's fingers; he was otherwise no worse for the wear. Borgnar acquitted himself most admirably, slaying five orcs with his enchanted mace that hence bore the name Orcslayer. He then thought back to his monastery days, remembered he had never been trained in the wielding of a mace, and quietly passed Orcslayer over to Gaz.
Knowing that strength could be found in numbers, the party made common cause with a group of three brigands. Yet this was not a lasting alliance. The augmented group's next encounter was with an unholy monstrosity: twelve giant rats that had been somehow fused together to act as one by methods most arcane. The brigands refused to approach the creature. “Ammonar's tits!”, one swore. Another took the opportunity to void his stomach of its the contents. After the fight, Gnarrr castigated them for their cowardice. “We signed up to fight beastmen, not abominations” was the defense proffered. “You're an abomination!” the tactful yet honest lizard-man responded. Brigands are normally used to a certain coarseness of language, but, for whatever reason, the day found these three feeling rather more sensitive, and they promptly departed from the adventurers' company. To hear Gnarrr talk about this encounter after the fact, he had never trusted them and just wanted them to leave. Accusing them of being abominations was certainly a way to do that.
The day's slapstick was not over. Another orcish patrol was encountered and another orcish toll demanded. Sinbad again tried his coin substitution trick, this time offering silver and claiming it to be platinum. Yet luck continued to rule against him, and another battle was joined. Its noise brought another group of orcs, and things began to look dire. A well-placed sleep spell evened the odds, but in the battle's closing moments a lucky orcish spear thrust lamed one of Gnarrr's legs. Their strongest fighter in need recuperation, the group began to beat a hasty yet careful retreat. But in an eerie parallel to their last withdrawal, a pursuing band of orcs caught up to the adventurers just before they reached safety. Ultimately, victory was achieved. But without Gnarrr's indomitable fury, it came only at great cost. A vicious slash by a jagged orcish blade lamed both of Aladdin's legs; the assassin was in a stroke made bereft of his elvish grace. And after being rendered unconscious by a brutal attack, Poor Unser took a heavy fall and lost six teeth. Half of the party was now incapacitated.
Their wounds tended to as best could be managed, the adventurers took refuge from the beastmen in Drusus' camp. They planned to rest the night, and thence to Cyfaraun. There their broken bodies might be restored. But perhaps this was merely a shift from one danger to another. For the weakened heroes were now surrounded by almost two dozen lawless brigands. And they could not help but mistrust the avaricious gleam the bandit king's eyes took on when he considered his new guests and the wealth they might have.
Mortal Wound Count:
- Gaz, one missing finger
- Gnarrr, one lamed leg
- Aladdin, two lamed legs
- Unser, six missing teeth
Death Count:
- None! (For now.)
Tampering with Mortality Count:
- None!